When It Rains

After checking myself over in the bathroom mirror I released the grimace I held. Still too dainty, but nothing I had tried over the last few years made any difference. Working out, running, protein shakes, you name it, not even a hint of masculinity arose from the effort. I was half tempted to try anabolic steroids save two reasons: I had no idea what would happen to my body, considering my condition, and the more important reason, I couldn't afford to buy them. That's why I went out and found a job.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title page image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Chap. 01

Being seventeen, and officially out from under my father's thumb seemed like a dream come true for any teenager, more so for me considering I wasn't the son that my dad always wanted. I didn't play football and could care less about watching Sportcenter or drinking beer while sitting in front of the television. My body took care of that for me. At five foot-ten inches tall I topped the scales at a measly one hundred and thirty pounds, and that was after gorging myself during dinner when the human body was supposed to weigh its most.

I tended to wear loose clothing to make my body look bulkier, but that was problematic at times. Depending on my color coordination it made me look even skinnier.

Double checking my backpack for a change of clothes, a book, and a sack lunch, I set it by the door so I wouldn't forget to bring it to work. Generic Wal-mart brand pop-tarts was my breakfast afterward, that and water.

With only two hundred and sixteen dollars to my name I took the first job that presented itself to me: a gofer. My job consisted of running errands for my employer, a fashion photographer; whatever he wanted, I was supposed to make happen. It paid my bills and left me enough money to save for my operation so I would bear through the humiliation, whatever it was.

A glance at the microwave clock which let me know I was running on time, but considering the look of the weather I wanted to get there a little early. Always making a good impression was my only chance to get ahead since college fell through. Dad wasn't going to fork up the money for me to go, and my grades in high school weren't good enough to get a scholarship, so I was out of luck there.

When I opened the front door to the apartment I noticed the dark clouds overhead and gave a silent prayer for the rain to hold off long enough for me to get to work. Considering I was riding a bicycle, this was a really important prayer. I locked up and made sure my backpack was secure before pedaling my butt off down the street.

I really should have saved the prayer on something else. Within five minutes I had entered a torrential downpour. An additional five minutes later I had been splashed no less than three times by passing cars. Needless to say I was a complete mess by the time I made it to work.

I received looks of sympathy from the two guys that were leaving the restroom as I pulled a boatload of paper towels from the dispenser and darted into an empty stall. Stripping out of my shirt I wrung the rainwater out into the toilet and hung it up on the broken hook on the back of the door. Patting myself dry was almost a work of futility, but I was less wet than I started out.

My next surprise was what was waiting for me inside my backpack. I unzipped the pack and was stunned to see the hole at the top that had worked its way open baring the contents to the elements. My brown sack lunch was soggy, my book was swollen and sodden, and my spare set of clothes had soaked up all the remaining water that had made its way inside. I was well and truly screwed.

Biting my lower lip seemed to be the only way I could keep myself from just sitting down and breaking into tears.

I shrugged my soaked button-down back on and dried my hair as best as I could with the hand blower mounted on the wall. Without my brush I knew it was going to be frizzed all over the place as a result. It was long, my hair. Cutting it short only led to my head looking tiny. Leaving it long at least let me pull it back, adding a little body along the way giving the illusion that I wasn't a pea head. I didn't have enough time to dry it all the way, so it looked curled up and damp by the time I decided it was enough. Leaving it out of my normal low ponytail was my only choice if I wanted it to dry by lunch time.

With a final frown in the mirror at my even more feminine appearance I grabbed my dripping back pack and made my way to the elevator.

"Hey Tanner, I'm here."

My boss, Tanner Hamersley was setting up the lighting for the morning shoot when I walked in. He threw up a single hand in greeting without even turning around. Counting my blessings I took the chance to ask him about my last chance of saving my modesty for the day. "I got drenched on the way in. Mind if I raid the wardrobe?"

I cringed when he turned around. A smirk rose on his face. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Yeah, thanks," I snarked back. "Do you mind?" I thumbed toward the adjoining room.

"Go ahead. Pick out something nice today, would ya? Emerson's coming by. I want to make a good impression."

Carter Emerson's firm supplied most of the high end models for the majority of the city's photographers, so having him impressed with our shoot was a pretty big deal. "Got it."

I disappeared into the wardrobe room and started going through the clothes. I had only done this once before, a year ago, when I'd slipped and landed in shrubbery planter outside in the smoking area. I'd only had to borrow a shirt then and it wound up being from the young teen collection. Most of the models had their pick of whatever clothes they wanted after a shoot, but a lot was left behind and there was always a need to have extra clothes. I was one case in point. Another would be accessories that were forgotten by the models or costumers. We always had what was needed. It was one of the reasons Tanner was becoming well known. Having a reputation of always being prepared for any contingency tended to make you look good.

I flipped through the kids section with a frown. Most of it was girls clothes, which was out of the question, and the boys clothes were geared toward shorts and sporting outfits. There wasn't really anything I could use that might be considered appropriate wear for impressing a client. I knew it was pointless, but I gave a cursory glance at the men's clothes. I didn't have a male model's build. Any pants I chose were way too long for me, and I already knew that they wouldn't fit over my girlish hips without looking totally ridiculous being bunched up with a belt at my overly trim waist.

"Any luck?" Tanner asked.

I turned to him at the doorway and shook my head. "Nothing."

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. I watched as his eyes moved to the women's clothes and that made my stomach roll. "You know it's your only option." At the look on my face he edged his idea along. "Mac, it's not like you couldn't pull it off."

Tanner pushed away from the wall and walked over to flip through the blouses. My face heated in embarrassment. Yes, I knew I could pass for looking like a girl. It's not like I hadn't been mistaken for one for most of my life. However, having him throw it in my face like that wasn't doing my ego any good. "Nothing revealing," I insisted.

He shook his head. "I'm looking for a professional look, Mac. Don't worry."

In the end he set aside a white button down cotton blouse and a loose black calf-length skirt. Even I had to admit that it was the most conservative outfit in the bunch. "Try these on and let me see." After a brief pause he asked, "What size shoe do you wear?"

"Five and a half." Even my tiny feet mocked my masculinity. I took a hold of the hangers and watched as he chose a pair of black two inch pumps which he handed to me as I glared at him.

"Sandals wouldn't match and you know it." He said it with no humor, so I didn't snap any nasty retorts back at him. "Check the bin for underwear."

Sure, make my overture into women's clothing complete with lingerie. Biting back a smart remark I sifted through opened set packages of unused panties until I found something that didn't scream Victoria's Secret: a black pair of boy shorts. Bras I was already familiar with. I was well versed in my band and cup size as I suffered from gynaecomastia, meaning I had my own set of breasts to tend to. At work I kept them bound, but at home I normally wore a comfortable bra. My life sucked so incredibly hard it was pathetic.

A privacy screen was my changing area where I said goodbye to the now freezing wet male clothes and a grumbling hello to a fluffy towel that Tanner tossed over the top of the screen.

"I don't know why you insist on trying to live like a guy, Mac. You could have such a cush life as a girl."

I pulled off the binding and dropped it to the floor before toweling my breasts off. "Being intersexed does not automatically make me a girl, Tanner." He's known about my sexual ambiguity since a week after I started my job as his assistant. "My chromosomes say I'm X,Y. That means male."

I almost felt warm again by the time I dropped the towel to the floor and slid my legs through the boy shorts.

"Well there's not a lot of guys that I know that are hotter than most of the chicks I know. And considering I photograph models for a living I think I'm on the inside track as to differences between the sexes."

I really hate it when he did that; comparing me to the models was one of the things I didn't like about my boss. "Cut it out with the hot chicks talk. I'm not hot. I'm a guy!" I said as I donned my white satin bra to support my B-cup breasts.

"What ever you say, ma'am."

Bastard. I'd toss the skirt and heels at him if we didn't need the Emerson contract so bad. Bagging Emerson meant more jobs with big name models, which meant more money for the firm, which meant more money for me. This in turn meant that I could finally afford the male hormones to make my body do what I want it to for a change. It also meant I could get breast reduction surgery and have that little opening underneath my penis closed up and sealed forever. I could be a real guy.

With the blouse buttoned up to the collar I slipped my legs into the skirt and pulled it up to my hips where it obviously wasn't meant to be. A tug high, and still higher it finally fit just under my ribs accentuating my twenty three inch waist. Wonderful. This looks ridiculous. "Tanner, I need a belt."

He was waiting for that one… again, Bastard.

A very wide black belt slipped over the top of the screen. I took it with a snap and slipped it around my waist, buckling the gigantic brass colored buckle. My last indignity were the heels, which of course, fit perfectly and added two more inches to my lanky looking frame. I took a minute to acclimate myself to the additional height and the odd feeling of standing with arched heels before revealing myself.

A smile graced Tanner's face before he beckoned for me. "Come here."

The clicking of the heels on the hard wood floor was a new experience for me. Well, the whole thing was new to me. The slight stretching of my calves, the breezy feel of open air between my bare legs, standing in front of Tanner while I was wearing a bra, which by the way lifted my breasts to new dimensions.

He grabbed my sleeve and gave it two fashionable rolls upward, above my elbow, before doing it to the other as well. A quick glance at my legs and an approving nod later he backed away. "It is so weird that you don't shave your legs and they look so good."

Before I could tell him for the fifth time about my messed up hormones pretty much deleting body hair from my genetic make up, I heard the front office door open and the sound of our make up artist arriving. "Everyone relax… I'm here!"

"Idiot," I commented.

"We're in the wardrobe, Irina," Tanner called out.

He was forty, his name was Irina -- Robert really, but he insisted being called Irina — and he was so fearsomely gay it was pathetic. He embodied the flaming homosexual stereotype to a tee. Loud colored clothing, flamboyant hand gestures, and a exaggerated sway in his walk brought him through the door and to a jarring stop when he saw me.

"Finally!" He sashayed quickly to my side and took my hands in his so that he could see the full effect. "You've come out of the closet and have been replaced by Marlene Dietrich. The look is totally yours, schatzi." He twirled his finger in the air. "Spin for me, butter-muffin. Let Irina get the full show."

I let my hands drop by my side and gave him my most lethal scowl. "I'm not out of the closet. I was never in the closet. I'm only doing this because Emerson's our client today and I was drenched by the storm this morning."

Irina's perfectly tweezed eyebrow arched with doubt clearly etched on his face. "What storm?"

I actually heard my teeth grind. Spinning in my heels I turned around and disappeared behind the privacy screen for a moment. I almost wound up on my butt as I bent over and temporarily lost my balance. Correcting, and squatting with my knees and picked up my sodden clothes. "The storm that did this to me!"

Irina's eyes widened in exaggerated shock. "Oh kitten! There isn't a cloud in the sky out there."

God hates me. It's the only thing I can think of.

I fetched the Art Director his flute of champagne and made sure there was a fresh pot of coffee for Tanner who was still looking at me with a bit of annoyance because I wouldn't let Irina slap a coat of her make up slop on me. I looked fine. I didn't need any make up and the natural look was still in, so it didn't matter anyway. With a glance at the clock above the door I saw that the model was already five minutes late and Tanner was starting on a slow boil. Nothing ticks off a photographer more than people being late; it throws his schedule completely off.

The jasmine scented incense that the model insisted on having lit exactly fifteen minutes before her arrival was starting to get on my nerves. I have nothing against jasmine in specific. I just hate things burning without me watching them. You won't find a single candle in my apartment. Plus the weird things famous people make us do just gets on my nerves. Take Bianca for example: Her pre-shoot list requires the following items: 3 quarts-sparkling water (sealed), 1-hot dog (with French's brown mustard), 1-4.5oz package of peanut M&M's with the blue ones removed (boxed, not bagged), 1-family sized bag of Cool Ranch Doritos (not sealed, but fresh), 1- half cut seedless watermelon (w/rind cut away and cubed in half inch chunks in a covered bowl accompanied with a plastic recyclable spork). I shit you not.

The messed up part? She winds up bringing her own drink, usually a bottle of Johnny Walker Red, and she doesn't touch a single item on the list. However if we mess up any one item then she walks back out the door and we have to pay for the day's shoot as per contract. It's the price you pay for shooting the popular models.

My attention was brought back to the present by the entrance door opening and admitting our client, Carter Emerson. Being in his mid-forties did nothing to take away the air of power he emitted. He was casually dressed, meaning he was sans his normal two hundred dollar tie. His lips pressed together with irritation. My guess was that he was pissed because there was a shoot with no model present. Before I even had a chance to greet him, he produced a cell phone and started in on a call. I took this time out to pour his Earl Grey tea, one Sugar in the Raw only.

I gave him some space to have his call in semi-private while I stood there holding his cup and saucer giving him the once over. His black hair had recently started to salt a little and his face was barely showing tell-tale lines of age, but it wasn't a bad look on him. Men aged gracefully; it was the trade off of the sexes. By the time I met his eyes I noticed he was staring at me, or more to the point, my body.

The clap of his cell phone closing timed with his brown eyes meeting my green. "Bianca is in the elevator."

I nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Emerson. I'll let Tanner know." Holding out the cup and saucer I added, "Earl Grey, one Sugar in the Raw."

He accepted the tea with a slight tilt of his head. I didn't waste any time turning and heading to update Tanner. However for some reason my butt started burning like someone was staring a hole through my skirt. I threw a look over my shoulder and sure enough it was Emerson. Great, I sighed to myself. He had a reputation for acquiring his models through extensive couch interviews. In short, he was a womanizer. Hell, he could afford to be. I had no desire to be one of his interviews not to mention one of his models, so I planned to stay well out of his line of sight unless absolutely necessary. I didn't need this job that bad. Well, maybe I did, but there was no way I was going to play sex bunny for a horny rich guy.

Before I could get the words, 'Bianca's in the elevator,' out of my mouth the door burst open and three giggling girls stumbled inside, one of which fell flat on her face. Bianca wasn't the faceplant. Emerson's fists clinched and then released with a slow breath. Four steps closer to the tardy model and he leaned into her. Sharp words were exchanged five of which I could make out. It was good because those were the most important ones of the bunch. 'You're released from your contract.'

"What!" Bianca screeched. "You can't fire me!" She threw her head back along with her frizzy hair. Looks like I wasn't the only one caught out in the rain. "I made this agency!"

Security was called shortly thereafter. It's not pretty when a stoned model loses it. I'm not usually one to judge, but I never really understood why people take illegal drugs, and by illegal I mean anything more than weed. Bianca was coked up so much that she didn't bother to wipe it off her nose. That's what got her fired. There were rumors a year past that she got in trouble and disappeared for about two months. Rehab I assumed. It looked like the rumors were right on the nose. Pun thoroughly intended.

Making myself relatively comfortable while Tanner and Emerson sorted through the aftermath was boring to say the least. I zoned out, thinking about our lost chance with the agency. So much for a raise, exotic location shoots, traveling overseas, a bigger apartment, a car.

Then a flash went off and I blinked away the sudden brightness.

Tanner stood back up from a squat, smiling at me. I looked over at Emerson sitting on a stool in front of the computer where I knew captured images were instantly displayed.

"Hey. What the hell?" I stage whispered at Tanner so the client couldn't overhear.

He just shrugged playfully at me and went over to Emerson. "Can't help the shadows. Bad lighting in the area."

Emerson's eyes were glued to the laptop in front of him for a few moments and then flickered up to me, again sweeping in my entire body.

Oh no.

"Give me a working port in two days. If she's as good as I think she's going to be then you've got the contract for St. Petersburg."

Oh nononono!

I sat up, noticing for the first time that the top couple of button on my blouse had worked themselves loose. Emerson's eyes locked on the exposed skin and then he made his way out the door.

"What did you do!" I accused Tanner.

He totally ignored my question and instead held his hands up in a placating gesture. "How would you like to earn five thousand dollars for three days work in St. Petersburg?"

To be continued
(chap. 1 of 28)

Continuation of the theme.

When It Rains, And Then It Pours...

I give Tanner a look that could kill... just before he qualifies what he said moments before.

“Mac. Believe it or not I just saved your bacon. Emerson was hell bent to take you to a casting couch and have his way when I told him you were signed exclusively with me...”

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

I begin to sputter and walk in his direction in as threatening a manner as I could adopt considering he outweighs me and I’m tottering on 2 inch heels, the extensive use of which I have been woefully unprepared for.

“Tanner, you can take your ‘exclusive contract’ and stuff it. I’m not a girl. I’m not even interested in dressing like one and I’m not going to pull you out of this jam by acting like one.”

“Mac. Simmer down. Easy, Mac; just let me talk for a minute. I promise if you do it I won’t let anything happen to you. This could be important for both of us and you could pull it off without half trying. Come over and look at the pics before you slit my throat.”

I still give him my best ‘I’m really pissed off’ expression even though he has picqued my curiosity bug which causes me to go over to take a look. He shows me the pictures on the computer. Somehow he had taken a half dozen from various angles but they all make me think of me in a skirt. The only redeeming feature is my breasts which, if I have my way, will go the way of the DoDo as soon as I have the money to do it.

“So I’m looking. All I see is me in this ridiculous outfit which I wouldn’t even be wearing if that storm hadn’t drowned me.”

“I can’t believe you can’t see it.”

“See what? I see me just fine and I look fuckin’ ridiculous in these clothes.”

“You just saying that because you are afraid to admit you look really great as a woman. Think about Ms. Fancypants who Emerson just fired. How does she look to you?”

I didn’t quite see where Tanner was going with this line but I didn’t intend to buy into it. Still if it hadn’t been for the drugs, Bianca was pretty hot.

“Well?”

“Well what? You want me to say she’s hot? Well she is, except for the drugs.”

“Hey, Irina. Who looks better, Bianca or Katrina here?”

“Katrina? Who’s Ka... Oh Schatzi, you ARE coming out. Katrina of course... There’s no comparison. Bianca is pretty, but Katrina is wholesome.”

“You’re both crazy. I’m getting out’ta here.” I turn and walk back to the privacy screen to change to my wet things so I may leave.

As I walk, Tanner is snapping more pics.

“Cut that out!” I spin and shake my fist at him so he takes a picture of that and I see it pop up on the computer screen a split second later, except that what I see on the screen is some young woman shaking her little fist in the air with her other hand on her hip and a slight sway in her stance. This isn’t good. Then again, I want to see that pic again and Tanner has been snapping several more by now.

“Tanner, wait a second... No really, wait a second. Back up the pics, I want to see the one where I was waving my fist in the air.”

He goes over to the computer and soon the picture is on the screen. I stare at it from a distance then walk over and take a closer look for probably a minute while he snaps a few more before walking over and talking to me quietly.

“As I said, how would you like to make five thousand just for the St. Peterburg shoot? And you’ll still receive your normal pay as well. You will be there with me and I won’t let Emerson get to you. Five thousand would go a long way toward helping you get to wherever it is you want to be. College tuition, Retirement fund. Whatever.”

I’m still looking at the picture. That’s the first one I’ve seen that actually looks like somebody else.

“Mac, come sit over at make up and let Irina do a little light makeup on you. You certainly won’t need much. Then we’ll shoot a few more pics so you can see how you look. That’s all. Just a little makeup and a few more pics before you decide.”

I lick my lips and wonder if I’m making a big mistake but, yeah, if they can make me look like a girl then five thousand for three days work is a hunk of change. If Tanner and Irina are there to protect me all the time it might not be so bad.

“All right. Irina can make me up and we’ll shoot a few pics then after I look at them I’ll decide.”

“Thanks, Katrina.”

That gets me to scowling again but... what the heck... Okay; for five thousand dollars temporarily I’m Katrina.

~O~

Well, it wasn’t a few pics... It was closer to a hundred photos with me modeling three different outfits. That’s all Tanner had on hand that were in my size other than the strapless gown and there wasn’t a bustier in the wardrobe, nor any of the other undergarments I would need for the gown. We were running out of time since Tanner has another gig coming up in a half hour. We cut it short and plan to take more tomorrow after we go out and purchase me some more clothing tomorrow afternoon.

“I’ll take the clothing expenses out of your profits from St. Petersburg but some of it the business will provide since it's necessary for your portfolio. When you finish with the stuff you may keep it or donate it back into the business wardrobe.”

That sounds fine to me as I’m not planning on remaining female for any stretch of time. I could just picture going home to Mom for Christmas as Katrina. Not a pretty picture, even if I managed to live through saying “Hi Dad.” Just for grunts and giggles Tanner sets up a contract with the name Katrina Van Derholt on it and I sign it the same. It is back dated by six months so if Emerson wants proof I was already signed to Tanner, we had it. Tanner offered to be my agent but said I should probably get someone else if things continued to percolate.

“You know, if you were to remain wholesome and not become stuck on yourself like some other model I could name, you could pull down a pretty big bundle of cash in the next year or two.”

“Yeah? And all I have to do is be a girl for a couple of years, right?”

“Yes, but would that be so bad? Think about it. Who would know besides Irina and myself? We’re not going to tell anyone because we would be slitting our own throats. Face it, you could make a bundle and we could make a bundle and then we would almost have enough we could all retire. Since your contract is with me, we won’t be limited to shooting solely for Emerson although he might try to force it. That means we could take on other contracts as well.”

If it wasn’t for the money I wouldn’t even be considering his proposal but... “How much do you think I could make in a year or two?”

“I don’t know. Not a lot the first six months or so until your pics begin to hit the market but after that the offers would begin to pick up. The second year would be the big gravy year. First year... maybe fifty to a hundred grand; second year — at least a couple of hundred after taxes. After that would you even care? You could retire somewhere and take it easy. You’re young, you would still have your life ahead of you whichever way you wanted to go. Maybe finish college and go into something else.”

Tanner has a way of making the most ridiculous seem normal. A quarter million AFTER TAXES for two years work? That’s almost inconceivable.

“Well? Do you want to go shopping tomorrow and we will create your portfolio to send over to Emerson? We can pick the best shots out of a few hundred and send the best fifty or so over. We could go for ten or twelve different looks in a dozen outfits. What do you think of that gown? Want to try some while wearing it?”

Irina has to get in his two-bits, “Do it, schatzi. You can pull it off. And we’ll make so much of that wonderful green stuff, too. Besides, I always wanted to visit St. Petersburg, all expenses paid.”

Tanner looks at me and adds, “And we could take more photos for your portfolio while we’re there so I may write off the trip and a tour of the city as an expense if I can’t get Emerson to pay for it outright. His pockets are a lot deeper than mine.”

I produce one of Bianca’s flourishes trying to place her accent and tonal inflections into my voice, “That would be wahnderful, dahling, but there must be a luncheon. I shan’t go unless I am fed.” Then more seriously, “And that gown is nice but the colour is definitely not me. I’m more into greens and blues, not hot pink.”

My imitation of Bianca cracks them both up and they start laughing. In moments I join them and the three of us are laughing so hard I almost fall down. After that we spend our last twenty minutes selecting some of the photos taken of me as I petulantly wandered around trying not to look feminine before the models arrive for the next shoot.

After the shoot, which lasted nearly an hour and a half, we break off for the morning since we have some more sessions to handle this afternoon.

We had successfully used up the remaining time which had been allotted for Emerson’s shoot in trying to convince me to do the St. Petersburg gig. In a rare display of largesse, Tanner takes the three of us to lunch with me, of course, still dressed as a female. I didn’t have much choice, I’m hungry and my lunch was destroyed by the storm. Tanner intends to write it off as a business expense since we will be discussing my portfolio and the clothing he wants me to model for it. He’s pretty good to work for but he’s always looking for an angle. At least he’s always been on the up and up with me. We discussed the ‘look’ we want to try for in the portfolio and decided on ‘wholesome’, whatever that is.

~O~

At lunch I’m shaking like a leaf, at least until Irina brings up Emerson and how he viewed me, “He thought you were a woman, schatzi. Didn’t you see him licking his chops? We thought he would devour you on the spot and he probably would have if Tanner hadn’t told him you were signed to him.”

This whole thing is still difficult for me to comprehend, but at the restaurant everyone treats me exactly like the person I appear to be. By the time we are ordering I’m beginning to calm down. Tanner modifies my order a bit and has me eating a lot more rabbit food and the rat nixes my french fries. He did allow me the meat patty, lettuce and tomato from the hamburger but the bun went by the wayside and he verbally scraped off much of the dressing which would have been used on it. He even gave the shake I managed to order as the waitress walked away to Irina, forcing me to drink water. This being a female model is for the birds.

“Katrina, you need to be much more careful about what you eat. You can’t afford to gain weight now. You must keep your figure just like this if you are going to go to St. Petersburg or anywhere else as a model. Gaining weight just became a big no-no.”

When the food arrived, I took a sad look at my little meat patty and salad. I don’t even get a glass of milk but have water with my meal, which isn’t that big a change since that’s what I drink at the apartment. Milk costs money, and that’s something I don’t have a lot of but I had been savoring the idea of having a shake or at least one glass of that white stuff since Tanner was paying for it. I watch as Tanner tucks away most of a nice top sirloin and Irina is scarfing down the same burger and fries order I had tried to place. My mouth is drooling but after I’ve eaten I discover I’m not all that hungry. Must be something to do with having this tight belt wrapped around my ‘waist’.

We make the arrangements for tomorrow; I’ll come to work dressed like this for the three shoots we have then we’ll all go out and shop for the clothes I’ll wear for the next few days as well as those for the portfolio. Even though I’m not that hungry I wish they would at least let me lick the plates. I manage to snag one french fry from Irina and pop it in my mouth before Tanner gives me a nasty look. I make a point of chewing and swallowing it.

“I can see you’re going to be a handful just like Bianca.”

The smile drops from my face immediately, as I reach my hand over to cover his, “Please say you didn’t mean that, Tanner.” I’m almost apologetic and if I could bring the fry back up whole and put it on the plate I would do so. I just don’t want to be thought of in the same light as that bitch.

“Well, maybe not it’s not as bad as it sounded. You really don’t want to be like her do you?”

I shake my head almost ready to break out crying and I don’t understand why.

“I’m sorry, Tanner. I’m still a little hungry. I didn’t mean to be like her.”

He smiles and cuts a couple of bites of his remaining steak putting them on my plate.

“Thank you.”

I chew them and swallow before he has a chance to change his mind.

“Salads, fruits and some meats won’t be bad, Katrina. You’ll find you will need the protein especially once we get into the shoots and the long hours involved with them. They won’t be like the ones we do in the studio which only last an hour or two at the most. Some days we will be up with the chickens and shoot all day with small breaks here and there. Lots of water, protein, and salads... No doughnuts, bagels, cookies, very little milk or dairy products, maybe an egg and no potatoes. You’ve got a lot to learn and only a couple of weeks to learn it. Not just about what to eat, either.”

I look at him dumbfounded, I hadn’t given a thought to the necessity of changing my diet. I’m beginning to learn I’ve got a lot to learn.

“I’m going to bring in a modeling coach for at least the next week. We need to prepare you for both runway and location modeling so expect me to keep you plenty busy even if we have no contracts for you to work. You will need to be as professional as possible before St. Petersburg and, if possible, before we hand Emerson your port in two days time. The next day and a half I’m going to run you ragged to prepare your port. Let’s get back, my early afternoon client will be arriving in about fifteen minutes.”

~O~

The next three hours go by quickly with two models arriving for their sessions along with our clients who hired them. The one girl is from an agency and hired by that client, the other is one of the ones contracted to Tanner. The sessions do go fairly smoothly and I watch the girls ‘strut their stuff’ as I try to learn pointers by watching them. I’m beginning to understand it isn’t as easy as they make it seem. About the only good thing, if you can call it that, I learned was that the models seem to consider me to be competition which means they accept me as being a female. At first I was appalled but then I began to think of it as a complement. I was passing as a woman right in front of these gorgeous women and they are becoming jealous of my looks. That’s kind of a trip. Be humble Mac... Be humble.

One of the clients asked Tanner about me and they discussed my availability for a few minutes. Thankfully this was done after the model finished and departed so she didn’t come over to tear my hair out. Now there is another client who wants to see my portfolio. This has me a little worried but when I look at Tanner all I see are dollar signs in his eyes. I think I need to have some serious alone time to think about this.

The clients have gone and left a few more items for us to add to our wardrobe. Tanner is looking at one of the business suits and asks, “This might fit you. Would you give it a shot? That would give us some more shots for your port and another outfit for your normal clothing if it fits.”

Going behind the privacy screen I change and find the suit to be a little loose but generally okay. I come out from behind the screen and am nearly blinded by the first shot he takes before he has me go over and attempt to pose much like the model did who wore it earlier.

“Okay, turn more this way... that’s good, hold it.” SNAP, SNAP, “ Head back a little... fine.” SNAP, SNAP, “Now turn to your right slightly, good, now profile your head... raise your chin, good.” SNAP, “Adjust your feet, that isn’t the way a model stands. No not like that, hold it. Remember how your body is positioned.”

He comes over and shows me how to place my weight on the hind foot and heel while placing the forward foot at a angle allowing the toe to heel line to cross back through the heel of the rear foot. “That’s good. This is how you would generally place your feet during a static shot. Now give me the body position we had before but with your feet properly aligned. Great...” SNAP, SNAP, SNAP. Toss your head so your hair flies ba...” SNAP.

This goes on for about five minutes before he announces we are going to go out and shoot some shots in the park before it begins to get dark. We take his RV so I have somewhere to change into another outfit or two and we drive out. Irina follows with his car with the makeup kit.

It takes about twenty minutes to set up the strobes near a fountain in the park. Nearly half that was spent lugging the stuff to the fountain area and deciding which side of it to set up for the shots. We go through a couple of dozen shots before I’m escorted by Irina back to the RV to change. We repeat it all again. By my second change I’m beginning to think the glamor of this sort of thing really isn’t all that great. I feel like I’m a piece of meat or a clothes rack. No wonder so many of the girls begin to fuss a bit or get into mind deadening pharmaceuticals. If I can just hold it together for two years then I’ll have all the money I’ll need to be able to eliminate these unwanted accessories attached to my body, finish college in style and then some.

By the time we pack everything back into the RV and retreat to the studio again it’s beginning to get dark. The pics have transferred, as we arrive in the studio, from the camera to the computer via the wireless memory chip and are now ready for us to review them. Tanner runs everything through his photo enhancing program and stores the enhanced photos in a separate folder. Looking at the photos is quite an education for me. I don’t see me in them at all. There is this model called Katrina showing off the clothing and she looks much like the other models I’ve seen here strutting their stuff. I don’t know if I’m glad I am able to do this or if I’m frightened. At this point the only thing keeping me going is the thought of all that nice money. I’m not afraid someone will start pointing at me and yell, “BOY!” but I am afraid I might begin to like this. Stay humble, Mac stay humble. It’s only for two years and then your body may be repaired and your college education will be awaiting. Two years is beginning to seem like an awfully long time.

By now it is dark out. I go check my male clothing only to discover it’s still damp. Duh, of course since I dumped it in a pile instead of laying it out to dry. It also has a particular odor which is not all that appealing to me.

“Guys? How am I going to get home? I can’t ride my bike like this, and my clothes are still damp and smell pretty ripe.”

“Are you nuts. You’re not going to ride a bike any more. We will have you riding around in a limo. It’ll be a small one for now, but a limo. A model doesn’t walk or ride a bicycle or drive her own car. There’s too much invested in her looks to chance anything. And you, young woman, are going to be a hot property.”

I’m not certain if I like that idea or if I’m frightened of it. I should be angry about all this but the two hundred thou or so still has that nice attraction for me. I hope I don’t become someone like Bianca. I’ve got to remember everyone is important and not let the boredom get me down.

Tanner pulls me out of my deep concerns once again, “I’ll have Irina show up at your place tomorrow morning to do your makeup before you come in. You can ride in with him tomorrow. Hopefully the three sessions I have scheduled here will all complete quickly so by three, or at the worst four, we may go out and purchase you some clothing. After all you can’t wear the same thing around day after day. We also need to get some things for you to wear under strapless or nearly strapless gowns. As a model you would have a large wardrobe and a lot of lingerie.

The more shoots you do the larger your collection will become. Of course some of your pay is taken in the clothing you keep but that’s a small part, seldom over ten or fifteen percent unless it is something really pricey and if that’s the case they usually don’t leave it behind anyway. After all, you need to have good clothing in the event you happen to go out to some special event and the designers will receives kudos for the design if you are wearing it so in effect that is free publicity for their design and for that reason they are usually more than happy to just give you any clothes that you might want to retain.

The agency will get you a new place as soon as the contracts begin paying so you wont need to worry about that for too much longer. We need to place you somewhere you will be better protected. We can’t have you mugged while traveling to or from work. Or anywhere else for that matter. That’s the reason most of the limo drivers are also licensed armed bodyguards.”

I hadn’t given that any thought. I now begin to understand how it could become easy to see oneself as far superior to so many others due to all this special handling. Maybe since I’m a guy masquerading as a model I’ll be able to keep it all in some sort of perspective. I know I always appreciated the few models who treated me like I was a real person.

~O~
~O~

To be continued
(chap. 2 of 28)

Neither Rain, nor snow, nor sleet nor hail...

I stuffed my wet clothes into my equally wet backpack and Irina graciously took me home, threatening to begin teaching me how to do some of my own makeup.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

“Oh Katrina, it would not be as much makeup as that which you will need for the photo shoots but just a little to bring out your looks for just going out.”

“Irina, thanks. I appreciate the offer but I’m still not certain I’ll go through with this. While the idea of the money is great, I don’t feel comfortable with this whole thing.”

“But Schatzi. You look so good. Even those models were eyeing you and I thought that one would come over to pull out your hair, she was so jealous of your body. And then all that wonderful money... Would you do that to poor Irina?”

Another guilt trip, first Tanner and now Irina.

“All I can promise is I’m going to think about it.”

Irina sighs, “Please don’t think too hard. I need a new car and would love to be able to put a little money away for my old age. You could skyrocket and Irina would love to ride your skirt-tails. Besides, you make a beautiful model.”

I sigh and twitch my eyebrows. “I promise I’ll give it a lot of serious thought.”

I figure his previous statements have provided three of the negatives in my tally of pros and cons. Skirts, makeup and beautiful. Which reminds me, he plucked my eyebrows during my makeup session.

He sighs again and I can see the dollar signs which were in his eyes floating away as his eyes turn from the colour of greenbacks back to their natural hue.

“The first shoot is at nine. Tanner wants us there by seven to look at the photos some more and perhaps take a few more shots. I’ll be here about six to do your makeup and then we’ll go in. Please Schatzi, take pity on poor Irina and at least do Saint Peterburg. That will help me a little and give you a better feel for what it will be like if you do decide to do it some more. For Irina? Please?”

“No promises. I’ll think about it, that’s all I’ll say at this point.”

He grimaces but doesn’t say anything more and I thank him for the ride home getting out of his car then watching him drive away before going in to climb the stairs to my apartment. The heels are now becoming a nuisance since I’m not accustomed to doing stairs in heels. I’m afraid the staccato tap of the heels will attract every red-neck staying here but I managed to make it into my apartment unmolested.

Once inside, I take off the heels and quietly move about my apartment first changing out of the woman’s clothing then into something more masculine before washing out my wet clothes and laying them out to dry. My soggy mess which was supposed to be my lunch is dumped and my book is steamed on very low in the microwave for seven or eight one minute sessions before I place it on a towel under several other large books in an effort to keep it from warping too badly. In an hour I’ll check to see if I am able to separate the pages without destroying the book and maybe microwave it some more.

Now I fix myself a TV dinner in the microwave and ten minutes later sit down to eat. I have shoveled my first bite of mashed potatoes into my mouth when I realize potatoes are one of the things I shouldn’t be eating if I’m going to be a model. Looking at the dinner for a minute I finally make a point of finishing the mashed potatoes first before starting in on the turkey, peas and cranberry muffin. After all, it’s a Hungry Man dinner and I’m a hungry man!

Having finished the meal I feel unpleasantly stuffed. That’s new, as I usually finish a HM dinner and look around for a snack half an hour later. Must be because I didn’t eat much at lunch. I can’t believe I ate all that rabbit food. Hell, I can’t believe I spent the day dressed as a woman. I can’t say I liked it, it was just different and I expected someone to begin pointing and yelling “boy” at any second. I won’t miss wearing those clothes. I try to read another one of my books for a half hour without a great deal of success before finally hitting the sack.

I’m tossing and turning and generally having a rough time going to sleep. I can’t get this whole thing out of my mind and visions of some of the problems I had at home pound through my head almost as painfully as the physical and verbal beatings I went through. It wasn’t bad enough that the kids at school would do it. My Dad was just as misunderstanding. Of course it had to be Mom’s and my fault that my body looked like it did. Couldn’t have been anything he contributed to the cause. More than once as I was growing up in grade school he would take me and have my hair nearly sheared off, leaving just a stubble. Even that didn’t help. It just made me look like a girl who’s hair was missing, like maybe I had leukemia or something and the Chemo caused me to lose my hair.

The boys at school would pound me nearly every day once they found out about my shape. Then Dad would pound me at home for not being able to defend myself. It’s a wonder I survived. I began to think I knew more about the hospital rooms than I did my own bedroom.

You’d think my sister or my brother would take the time to at least try to understand or maybe even play with me? Fat chance. My brother treated me like some kind of freak and took just as much pleasure out of pointing me out to the bozos who then pounded me into the pavement as they did in doing it. My sister wouldn’t have anything to do with me because I was, “prettier than her.” Thanks loads. Just once I thought she might be trying to understand and she convinced me to try on some of her old clothes.

“Maybe you really should have been a girl.”

That was short lived. Mere seconds after she had helped me dress up, had fixed my hair and let me look in a mirror, she was screaming her head off, “Mom... Mom... Mac’s wearing my clothes.” That went over like a lead balloon and of course Mom wouldn’t believe me that it was all Sis’ idea. Then when she wouldn’t let me change back until Dad saw me that was almost a death sentence.

So now what? Because of a freaking storm I spent a day in girls clothes and my boss is trying to convince me that I should do it for a couple of years? I wander out to the kitchen and open a package of pop tarts, drop them on a paper plate (clean up is a lot easier that way — I never need to wash dishes) and go back to the bedroom to nibble and worry.

The money would be great. Enough to have the operation and go to college. Maybe do something about my figure too. The downside is spending a couple of years as a girl in order to earn that money. I don’t know if I can do that. Today wasn’t bad, except maybe for Emerson, but I don’t know if I could do that every day for a year much less two. And how could I go home to see Mom at Christmas? Maybe I could have her come to me for Christmas. Oh right... She won’t go anywhere without Dad and the moment he sees me, I’m in the hospital again; if I survive. Tanner and Irina can’t be with me every second of every day.

I wish everyone would just leave me alone and let me live my life. What the hell is this fixation with wanting me to dress like a woman? I mean, there ARE other guys who look a bit like this without people shoving them into girls clothes or using them as punching bags or anything.

I awaken the next morning having finally fallen asleep sometime during my mental gymnastics and consider my options which aren’t all that swift. One thing I know for sure, I’m not going to wear those women’s clothes into work this morning. I can see it now. Irina arrives and does my makeup then we walk out of my apartment, which nearly everyone in the building knows is rented to a guy, they spot me in a skirt, blouse and heels accompanied by a “flaming homosexual stereotype” and he gets pounded into the ground and I get murdered. No, thanks anyway.

I get dressed and fix my lunch shoving everything into my backpack which is still a little damp, must be because of the heavier material. Then I remember I need to take the women’s clothing back and go find it all, carefully packing it as well, the shoes on top and the pack zipped and buckled shut. Irina shows up promptly and is a bit disappointed to see me dressed in trousers and shirt rather than skirt and blouse. I don’t say anything but I’ve got to accept the ride since my bike is at work and it’s either accept the ride or walk.

We show up at the studio only to find Tanner already there scrolling through the images he processed of me in women’s clothing. He takes a look at me and grunts, “Okay, so the Emerson account doesn’t matter to you?”

“Yes it matters. I’ll do St. Petersburg, but I’m not going to be a woman except for that shoot. You have other models, use one of them for the rest.”

“That won’t work. Emerson called bright and early this morning. He won’t settle for anyone but you pending review of your portfolio which I’ve been busy dummying up half the night. He said either you do all thirty of their presentations for the year or he’ll go elsewhere. And if he goes elsewhere then I don’t need the extra help so you’ll be out of a job. Sorry kid, but I just don’t have enough going without him to be able to keep you on.”

“So it’s either I spend a year or two as a female model or I don’t have a job?”

“Afraid so kid. I really am sorry. I’ll give you good references but I can’t afford to keep you on if I lose Emerson.” While we are talking the phone begins to ring and Tanner ignores it letting the automated system pick it up. The conversation begins somewhere in the background and Tanner suddenly pauses in our conversation and begins listening more closely to the message being placed on the automated system. After the caller hangs up he turns back to our conversation.

“Sorry. That was the client who talked about you so long yesterday. He wanted a copy of your Port but that call was asking if you could do a shoot today. Too bad. I call him later and let him know you’re not available. I know it doesn’t matter now but would you like to see what I worked up for your portfolio thus far?”

I shrug my shoulders. It won’t make much difference one way or another. If I won’t pose as a woman for a large chunk of my life then I’m not working anyway. It might be interesting to look at just for grunts and giggles. I remember the women’s clothing in my backpack and begin to take it out so it won’t wrinkle badly. Tanner can put it back into the wardrobe. The PresentationsTM program comes up on the screen and music with voiceover begins as various photos of me modeling different outfits in several poses each go by. It’s actually pretty good and Tanner says it is backed by a printed copy of the images in a folio which allows them to be taken out and examined individually. I’m impressed. I’ve never seen a portfolio before and this contains a lot more than I thought they did.

“You need to remember that this is a gimmick because Katrina really doesn’t have any jobs under her belt so I had to ‘make up’ a few plus the normal agency photos which would be a part of it. If you had taken the job offered today I could have added some of the photos for that shoot into your port and that would have strengthened it in Emerson’s eyes. Well, guess we don’t need any of this, do we? Let’s get ready for the first client. Will you hang those things while I telephone Reed and let him know we need to pass on the job?”

Tanner wanders off toward his office and Irina takes the makeup kit to the corner where everything is set up for that purpose. I stand there thinking then rush to Tanners office and attract his attention while he is still waiting to get past the secretary.

“Tanner, what is this shoot Reed wants Katrina to do?”

“I don’t know. The message didn’t give any details.”

I lick my lips and lower my eyes, my voice drops to about a third normal, “If it’s just for a couple of hours today then tell him I’ll do it.”

Tanner hangs up the phone, “What?”

“Just today. I’ll do it.”

“There isn’t much point to that. If they like you then one day won’t work for us and could do my agency more harm than good. Thanks, kid; but no thanks.” He starts dialing the phone to Reed again.

Aww shit. I can’t be out of work. Quietly, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Kid, I know you really don’t want to do it. I don’t know why I even thought about it. You just look so good and... I don’t know... I thought it would be a trip... to pull it off without anyone being the wiser. You’ve got to know that if we were able to do it for a couple of years and make all that money then just disappear again, it would really be a mystery in the modeling world. People would talk about the top model who appeared out of nowhere, rushed to the top and then vanished. I should never have dragged you into it. You just look so hot dressed like a female.”

Once again my pride gets my anger up a bit at his comment but this time I control it without a quip and stay quiet as he answers the phone which began ringing while he was talking.

“...Hamersley agency. Tanner speaking... Hi Reed, yes I called but something came up and I had to break away for a minute...”

I feel like I’m letting everybody down as I listen to the conversation. Finally I begin waving my arms to attract Tanner’s attention.

“... Could you give me a moment, Reed? Hold on...” He makes a point of putting the phone on hold so we may talk without this Reed guy hearing him.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what exactly?”

“I’ll do the whole thing. Two years but there are a few conditions. One of which is that you NEVER leave me alone with ANYONE for ANY reason.”

He punches the button on the phone, “...Reed. She just walked into my office. Could I call you back in ten? Thanks.”

“All right. I understand that condition and agree with it, especially if we are on a shoot for Emerson. What are your other conditions?”

“One is that no one ever learns I’m not female. If that happens, I walk and you still owe me for everything.”

“Define everything.”

“All that I have earned as Katrina prior to the time I’m discovered and the full amount for the specific shoot we are doing if I’m found out while doing the shoot. In turn, I’ll damn well do everything I can not to be discovered.”

Tanner laughs at that, “I agree with that condition too. What else?”

“I don’t know but as I think of them I’ll let you know and we can work something out. I don’t want to be unreasonable like Bianca but I don’t want to have any future career destroyed by bad publicity. And I don’t want my parents to know.”

“Okay. I’ll tell Reed you’ll do the shoot today. Go change into that skirt suit and have Irina make you up while I call Reed back. Mac... Thanks. This is really important to my agency and the money won’t hurt you either.”

“I’ve got to be crazy agreeing to this. Stark raving mad.”

“I don’t think so. You’re a good person and you care about everyone’s needs. As long as you stay like that you’ll be a great model and people will like working with you. That can mean a lot long term. It could also mean your value as a model could go up too. The better models who work quickly and treat everyone well are always in demand much more than the difficult ones however good they may happen to be. Go on Katrina, go change and get made up lightly. Tell Irina it’s an outdoor shoot so the makeup should be for the kind of sky we have right now.”

“Okay. Sorry I’m so difficult.”

Tanner winks his eye at me and gives me a thumbs up with the hand that’s holding the handset even as he is punching the buttons to dial Reed back. I go tell Irina that he will need to make me up for a daylight shoot this morning and then rush off to put on the skirt suit. Just before I return to Irina, I spend some time brushing out my hair which has decided it is going to hang straight down my back this morning. It isn’t especially long but when straight it almost reaches the middle of my shoulder blades.

Irina is overjoyed to be making me up and carefully covers the suit before starting on my face. Shortly after finishing my face he does my fingernails and pushes my hair into a French curl which doesn’t look so good since I could use some more hair. He continues to fuss for about ten minutes before we go back to check in with Tanner.

We find him checking the digital cameras and he has the logging cameras out as well. I’ve never seen him use them but he explained them to me when I started here. The cameras may be set to take a shot every few seconds and are capable of nearly two thousand very high definition photographs each, more if they download to a computer on the fly. At one every two seconds, 1800 photos may be taken by each camera in one hour. There is a remote which can activate or deactivate them so they may be set for up to five shots a second and then triggered to begin and stopped when necessary allowing the capacity of the memory to extend well beyond an hour. They will continue to download to the computer all the stored shots taken until all memory is released again for another session.

Sometimes the cameras capture shots from their angles which otherwise would be lost. That gives Tanner the option of moving around to take his shots knowing that most of the time the other two camera will still be snapping away. The only drawback is the need for three sets of strobes one set for each of three cameras. If the strobes happen to go off at the same time it’s no biggie because the cameras will cut off when they have recorded enough light from the scene. Good system but expensive. There are not a lot of studios or photographers who use the system as a result. Tanner is probably the best with it. Now I get to see it in action, not quite from the viewpoint I had previously expected but still...

Another of Tanner’s models arrives shortly before the shoot. This one is all legs. The client shows up a couple of minutes later along with a rack of clothes and two of his hanger’s on. The first shoot of the day goes well and I wind up assisting the model with her changes since I’m a ‘girl’ too. She’s a talker and I find it necessary to invent a little of my ‘past history’ to keep her happy. Now I need to tell Tanner about my ‘past’ so he won’t be blind sided. This is becoming more difficult. There are a lot of little things about which I haven’t given a thought but which could trip me up big time if I’m not careful. Like my last name, which I had nearly forgotten. To make it even worse, I don’t know Dutch.

When the shoot finishes and everyone leaves I give Tanner the information about my ‘history’ what little I couldn’t get away from revealing. I also tell him that my ‘name’ has now been placed out into public view, “... but I don’t know Dutch and that could become a bit of a problem. There’s just one other little thing... I don’t have a passport and even if I did, it wouldn’t be in the name of Katrina Van Derholt.”

Tanner obviously hadn’t thought about that. Irina and I can see his face screw up like it does when he is confronted with a difficult problem and his thinking cap begins to smoke. “Okay... I don’t know if we can fix that in time. All we can do is try. I need to save these pics to a folder and make a couple of phone calls while you two put this place back together for the next shoot. We’ve got twenty minutes.”

Tanner spends the first four preparing his folder and transferring the high definition pics into it then creating a disk to accompany the eight by tens he will be sending to the client. Finally he sequesters himself in his office with the door closed. The new client and his model appear just as we finish hiding away the few clothes that were left behind from the previous shoot. The previous client took about half of them away with him and the model selected two sets, the remnants now hang in our modest wardrobe.

With the client and model here, I continue to put together the little things they like to have on hand as three guys bring in a set on wheels. I’ll bet they’re glad we’re on the ground floor. I manage to break away to let Tanner know the client is here and feel my butt burning once again from this client’s gaze. How many of them are like Emerson? I glance back and he averts his eyes so I guess he isn’t quite as bad. Emerson just continued to look and I could have sworn he licked his lips as he looked at me. This one seems a bit embarrassed that I realised he was looking.

I knock and slightly open the door to Tanner’s office poking my head inside. He cups his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and looks at me.

“Tanner, eleven o’clock is here. They brought in some sort of set to use in the shoot. Where do you want them to place it?”

“I’ll be out in a second to take a look. Thanks, Katrina.” Tanner gives me a wink and uncovers the mouthpiece again saying something into it as I close the door and return to the client.

“He’ll be right out. He is wrapping up an important phone call. How large is your set?”

“Not too big, but I would prefer the background for it to be neutral. I would have sent it over yesterday but it wasn’t finished.”

Tanner has exited his office and walked up to us hearing the client’s reply. “Not a problem, Tom. Now, what exactly is this?”

“Our cosmetics spread for the Fall and Winter. Tanya here, is wearing our Fall makeup and perhaps Irina could help us with the change to the winter look, when we’re ready?”

“Sure thing. So neutral Fall for the first background?”

“If you could. I gave you all our info on the phone and we would like photos of both Tanya and the cosmetics and then some of both together with her pretending to be doing her face herself.”

“Sure thing. Irina, give me a hand with the background drops, would you?”

Five minutes later the client’s set is in front of a backdrop showing a Fall scene and Tanner is beginning to snap away. He gets the model in some distant shots but mostly close ups, changing the lenses on the digital while still observing the subject and telling her when and where he wants her to move around or turn her head to better advantage to bring out the make up, less is more look. Now he is snapping the set with the makeup alone then a dozen or so with the model pretending to be touching up her makeup before sending her to Irina to have the Fall look removed and the Winter look added. While that is happening he goes off to view the photos with the client at the computer and I take a flavored water over to the model who smiles and thanks me.

Irina even gives her a moment to sip some of it. The near continuous lighting warms the models thus the need for the water, and it also provides composition light even though it drops off as soon as Tanner slightly presses the shutter button. The multiple strobes flash to take the picture and then moments later it all reverses again so the continuous lighting is present. If this were a Summer scene then the continuous lights would remain on to add more red and a little yellow to the photos.

The Winter scene will require some blue gels on the continuous lighting which will, once again, remain on but reduce in intensity during the shots. The overhead lights are doused because they are the wrong colour temperature and are used only so we don’t crash as we walk around due to lack of light. Five back lights which are covered in diffusion gauze provide a flooded haze which helps separate the model from the background and makes the overall photo look more realistic. These can’t be too bright or they will cause a halo around the model which makes the background look fake. Balance between the model and the background is important too. Diffused photo floods illuminate the background scene behind her to remove any shadowing which could taint the lie. It’s all about sales and perceived reality.

All these changes to the lighting and the careful preparation to the overall shots are what take most of the time. That’s why there may be an hour or two required just to produce a couple of dozen pics from which one or two are chosen by the client. It’s nothing like school photos or those taken of a dance class where the background is set up and then the students are herded through in an assembly line for the dozen or so quick poses each producing photos from which proud parents may choose.

I’m thinking about all this and wondering if I’ve made a mistake saying I would do it. At least walking in heels is becoming easier.

(chap. 3 of 28)
to be continued.

Half a league, half a league

With two of the three shoots finished we break for lunch and I wind up eating more rabbit food. This time I know better about the meat and order a small steak for the protein since we are going to be doing a shoot with me a bit later..

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

.

We couldn’t make the morning slot with the client since we had prior engagements but he is okay with an afternoon gig so we are going to spend my shopping trip time shooting on site somewhere. I don’t know how this is going to affect our shopping for my clothes and I’m hoping we will still have some time to do at least a part of the shopping. Getting paid for a shoot has me happily nervous so I’m a little mixed up having psyched myself for shopping and now needing to change that to playing clothes rack for a client.

On our way back I ask Tanner if we could make a quick stop so I may buy a little fruit to take back to the studio. I would like to have something I could munch during the shoot which won’t make a mess and will allow me to nibble without adding weight. “When I’m nervous I need to nibble.”

He smiles and even pays for the three apples I pick out. That was good since I don’t have any money or ID with me. I need a purse. Not having any money or ID on me also makes me nervous. I’m accustomed to having a wallet with everything in it on me at all times. This thing about abandoning my money and identity as well as my apartment key and everything else makes me feel terribly vulnerable. Almost as bad as walking into the house on a school day when dad was home early.

We make it back without some cop asking for my ID on the way, and begin to set up for the third shoot of the day. Once that is completed we prepare to go out ‘to the location shoot’.

Finally arriving at the client’s choice of location we meet up near the waterfront and walk out into the marina. A changing tent has been set up on the shore near some club buildings and I am sent over to it while Tanner and the client discuss the shoot. Irina takes his makeup box with us and we are met by two assistants inside the tent where they begin preparing me in the first outfit. Irina changes my makeup to better fit the daylight and the outfit and soon we are back out with me tottering on 3 &  ½ inch heels. The shoot goes well, at least I think so, and I only had one frightening moment when I thought the heels I was wearing with the cocktail dress were considering pitching me over the side and into the harbor. Of course Tanner caught that precious moment ‘on film’ so to speak and the client liked the shot which he could view on the notebook computer Tanner brings along to capture the outdoor shots from the modem in the camera.

An hour and a half later we had gone through four outfits and we needed to change the lighting since it was beginning to become a bit darker. Now, too, I was wearing longer dresses and heels and we were taking shots on board a stadium sized yacht. Okay, so it isn’t really, but it seems that way to me. I’ve never been on a yacht before. Most of the shots were taken with me leaning near the stern or up on the... ‘flying bridge?’ The client really loved those since a small breeze has the gowns flowing out while I’m freezing. I don’t know if ‘flying bridge’ is the right name since I don’t seen any resemblance to flying nor to a bridge but who am I to argue? I didn’t know bow from stern until someone explained it to me. Port and Starboard still have me confused.

Anyway, we finished the shoot and the client is pleased and I earned close to $850 before taxes for my part in the whole thing. As far as I was concerned that made up for these past two days. And to think this all started because I got soaked in a brief rainstorm. I’m changing back to my skirt suit while Tanner and Irina are packing everything. The client comes in and thanks me for a job well done which at first panics me since I’m in there alone, but a few seconds later Irina is there pretending to pack his makeup kit but apparently he is there to chaperone me. The client offers me any two of the outfits from the rack and I select the black cocktail dress and the one filmy outfit for casual occasions. I ask if I may have them and the client is surprised I didn’t select the more expensive dresses.

“I couldn’t do that, Sir. I wouldn’t have much opportunity to wear them so you really wouldn’t receive much publicity for your clothing if I selected one of them. The cocktail dress I will likely wear far more frequently so you would receive greater market value from it or the casual gown.”

He looks at me with increased appreciation for my honesty even as Tanner rushes through the flapway into the tent.

“You’ve got a good model here, Tanner. She doesn’t take the most expensive clothing and considers whether we will receive sufficient publicity from her wearing our things out in public. We have a sales tour coming up in the spring. Do you think she will be available to take a whirlwind five week set of runway showings? There will also be dinners and photo opportunities as well during that time.”

“Send me the details, will you? I’ll see if I can work them into the schedule. She has some overseas commitments so I need to see how it all fits together.”

“I’ll do that. Since it’s a traveling runway showcase we could use four girls, but I want her to be one of them.”

“I’ll see what we can do. Did you want my agency providing them all or do you have them coming from somewhere else?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, we have an ongoing contract with George to provide three girls. The other may come from anywhere. As the showcase goes around the country we don’t always have enough girls. If you’ve got them then they could come from you and you also will have the marketing photos and the business catalog to play with so most of it would be yours.”

“Send me the details and I’ll see what I can do and get back to you. If we sew this up pretty quickly then I may be able to move around the overseas stuff a little to accommodate you. How’s that sound?”

“As good as I could expect at this point, Tanner. She’s pretty good. Could use a little polish but she’s good. How long has she been doing this?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The client smiles, “That long, huh?”

“Yeah. She signed with me a bit less than six months ago.”

The client turns to me, “Young lady. You continue to learn and yet stay the same as you are now and you will go far in this business. Good Luck.” He holds out his hand so I take it daintily in mine and he leans over and kisses the back of my hand. As he straightens he gives me a wink then turns to Tanner, “I’ll contact you tomorrow after I courier the details to you first thing in the morning.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be looking forward to it. Oh... I’ll be out for a few hours tomorrow. Katrina has a couple of issues with Immigration we need to take care of and the appointment is tomorrow.”

The client’s smile drops from his face, “nothing serious I hope.”

“No, just a few little details about her work permit and passport. Nothing serious. They probably forgot to stamp something, you know how those bureaucrats are.”

“Yeah. They tried to tell me I wasn’t an American citizen when I came back from my European trip last year. This whole Homeland Security thing has gotten way out of hand. I had to threaten them through a couple of friends of mine who are on the oversight committee before they would back off. If you go overseas more than once in a blue moon they think you are either a terrorist or a citizen of some other country. If you need some help let me know and I’ll sic my friends on them.”

“Thanks. If we need it, I’ll let you know.”

We make our way out with me carrying my two new acquisitions and the matching heels out to the RV. Irina takes his makeup kit to his car and our two vehicles start back to the studio.

Tanner is bubbling the whole way back. I’m bubbling because I just earned nearly my whole month’s salary in a few hours. Then I remember the conversation in the tent.

“Tanner? What’s this thing with Immigration?”

“Just a smoke screen. We actually have an appointment with a judge friend of mine who will help us temporarily change your name so we may get you a passport in the name of Katrina Van Derholt.”

“CHANGE MY NAME?”

“RELAX. Yes, change your name. You’re the one that brought up the fact you don’t have a passport and we can hardly have a male name on the passport with a female picture can we? If we change your name then we can get you a passport in the proper name and everything will go nice and easy. Two years from now when this is all over we can change it back and you may go your merry way.”

“I never bargained for this.”

“As I said, you’re the one who brought it up.”

“Don’t remind me. This is getting out of hand. I didn’t bargain for any of this. Why do I need to travel as a woman?”

“What did you expect to do, dress like a hippie guy to travel from country to country and then check into a hotel in order to change to Katrina? Then change back after the shoot, check out and fly to the next country to do it all again?”

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

“Not a thing except it won’t work. Emerson will have someone accompanying you virtually every second. There will be no time when you will be left alone to make the changes and your passport will be given to each hotel when you check in. Don’t you think it will be a bit funny for them to have a guest that has no passport and to have a passport which is missing a guest? You’re the one who didn’t want anyone to know you are impersonating a girl.”

Shit. This is just one more complication I don’t need.

“So I have to be a girl 24/7 for two years?”

“That was the deal YOU set up,” he reminds me.

“Fine.” I turn away from him and begin to pout as I look out the window of the RV.

“Is that ‘fine’ yes, or ‘fine’ no?” he says jokingly.

“Just — fine!” a tear begins to find it’s way out of my eye and down my cheek where Tanner can’t see it. I hear him chuckle.

We pull into the studio garage and meet Irina who luckily found himself a permit parking place nearly in front of the studio. Tanner and I walk in and Irina goes ballistic.

“What have you done to my makeup? You look like a wild animal.”

Tanner hears Irina’s outburst and grabs me turning me around so he may look at my face. The tears are obvious even as I turn my face away from him and try to pull away.

“Damn. This was a bad idea.”

He doesn’t get any argument from me and Irina takes my arm and leads me over to the makeup station to clean off my face and redo the makeup.

Tanner meanwhile has plunked himself down in front of the computers and is going through the motions not really thinking about it as he watches Irina working on my face , trying to clean the few spots where tears and makeup have deposited themselves on my blazer and blouse.

Fifteen minutes and I’m presentable again. Tanner is still sitting in front of the computers thinking. It must be some serious stuff, we can see the smoke coming out of his ears. As we watch he shakes his head no for about the umpteenth time and continues thinking. I start in his direction but Irina stops me saying quietly, “No schatzi. When he’s like this don’t bother him.”

Twenty minutes later he says, “Damn. Why did my best opportunity have to be her... him?”

Now he is looking at the screen again and actually going through the photo files. He continues to shake his head ‘no’ gently as he goes through the photos. He swears a few more times before standing and walking over to me.

“Okay kid, you win. Change to your male clothing and I’ll get your check for you including today’s stuff. That should give you enough to live on for a while as you try to find other work.”

“What will you tell the clients?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you suddenly had to return home and you doubt you’ll be coming back much less going back into modeling. I’ll figure out something. I’m not going to put you through this since you obviously haven’t thought it out and aren’t prepared to handle the changes. It isn’t your fault, I should never have pushed it.” He laughs a small self depreciating sound as he shrugs his shoulders, “I’m a jerk. I think of myself rather than the other people. It just that there are so many out there who are depending on me to provide them with a livelihood and sometimes it gets to me. When I see an opportunity to really make some money and get out of this whole mess I forget someone might be hurt in the process. Sorry kid. I’ll figure out what I owe you and cut you a check.”

He walks away going into his office and shutting the door. Irina just sits down at his makeup station leaving me wandering around trying to decide if I should take this chance to get out of this mess. I sit down at the computer and after a minute or two have that portfolio presentation back up on the screen watching it. That Dutch girl doing the modeling actually looks almost as good as the ones I’ve seen here in the studio. I’m impressed. I leave the computer and go over to my male clothes, standing there looking at them for a couple of minutes before turning around and walking over to the office door which opens as I reach it. Tanner comes out holding a check which he hands to me, I don’t even look at it but just fold it and continue to hold it as I stand in front of Tanner. I glance over at Irina who is still sitting at his makeup station looking blankly into the mirror.

Finally I look back, Tanner hasn’t said a word.

“Tanner, I’ll try to make this work. I just feel like I’m disappearing and someone else is taking my slot in the world and she is quite different than me. I’m not a girl. This whole thing bothers me and I’m not a girl. But for two years I’ll try to make it work. Just don’t leave me alone like you did today when that client popped into the tent. I feel terribly vulnerable and that felt like a betrayal to me more than anything else.”

I hand him back the check, “Is this enough to get me the clothes I need?”

Tanner looks at the check in his hand and at me, Irina has turned around to watch us and to see what the final result is going to be. Tanner pulls me into a hug, “Sorry ki... Sorry Sis. I’ll try to take better care of you in the future... Especially around Emerson.” He kisses my forehead steps back and winks, “we have a lot of shopping to do and we’ve lost most of the day. We better get going. Tomorrow morning we need to see the judge and take care of your name change then get your birth certificate changed and a passport on fast track. We don’t have a lot of time.”

The shopping was fun, I tried on more things than I want to think about before settling on a few of them. More shoes and a pair of boots as well plus matching handbags. Some jewelry for when I’m out in the evenings. I won’t need any during the shoots because any jewelry I should be wearing would be provided as a part of the ‘look’ the client desires. Tanner makes one point however. We purchase a wedding set for me to wear most of the time. He hopes this might slow down Emerson a bit since he seems to, “mostly hit on the single girls.” We manage to close the mall at it’s ten o’clock wrap up time.

So... now I’m ‘married’ to some nameless individual who is supposedly still back in Europe somewhere and tomorrow we hope to be able to fast track a name change and the acquisition of a number of other documents then apply for a passport so I may actually be able to travel overseas. To top it all off, Tanner decides I better at least have some idea of being able to speak or understand Dutch, “just in case,” so he orders one of those Rosetta Stone courses for me - shipped overnight. I still feel a bit like I’m standing at the base of a huge mountain watching an avalanche coming at me with the speed of an express train and I have nowhere to run. It probably wouldn’t do me any good to try.

“...rina? Katrina? You okay honey?”

“I come back to reality and look at Tanner, “I’m fine. Everything is still just coming at me ‘faster than a speeding bullet’. What were you saying?”

“I’m going to drop you off at my place for the night. It’s in a better neighborhood than your place, especially for a woman; and it has an alarm system connected to ADT.”

Suspicious, I ask; “Where are you going to be?”

“Here. I need to finish your Port after I add today’s shoot to it. I have a small studio apartment in the back. I’ll be fine. More importantly, you will be fine. Irina told me he thinks so little of your present neighborhood that he wouldn’t consider allowing his own daughter to live in the area much less you, so we need to get you out of there pretty quickly. You’ll learn that lots of times guys are okay where women are at risk. We can’t afford to have anything happen to you.”

“Thank you. It didn’t seem all that safe to me as a male either.”

He smiles and points toward the door, “Scat Kat. Here’s the key for the place and the code is 7743. You have 30 seconds to enter it on the keypad after you open the door. It’s Asterisk, 7, 7, 4, 3, pound. After you’re in and everything is closed up just press the asterisk and then 7 and it will rearm. Before you go out in the morning enter the entry code wait a minute and then push the asterisk and seven. You have 30 seconds to leave and close the door before it arms. Understand all that?”

“Yes. I’ve got it. 7743; and asterisk 7. No problemo.”

He smiles at me then leans over and kisses my forehead again, “Go on Kat, I’ll grab your stuff and we’ll use the car.”

I pick up my bags and he takes my two long dresses in their closet bags out to his Beemer and we spill everything into the back before I get in and we pull away. We go in a completely different direction than we would have gone to get to my place and in twenty minutes we pull up at a small house in a fairly nice looking neighborhood. Compared to where my apartment is located this looks like paradise.

I go to deal with the door and the alarm system panicking at first because I don’t find a key pad. The smart aleck who installed it mounted it so the front door hides it when you open the door to enter. I manage to enter the code just a split second before the alarm begins to go off so there is a single chirp before it clears. I walk back out and help Tanner to bring my things into the house. He checks the place to be certain everything is locked before he departs for his studio again. I wait at the door until he drives off before I close and lock it, arming the alarm system again.

After several trips I have all of my stuff in what appears to be a spare bedroom and am hanging much of it in the empty closet. That finished I change to something comfortable and go to search his refrigerator to see what’s available for supper. After considerable examination of the foods there, I opt for discretion and pull out a large TV dinner promising myself that I won’t eat the mashed potatoes nor the dessert. There are two chicken fried steak patties and corn, I hope that will be enough.

The microwave is large enough I could probably put a whole turkey in it. Yeech, microwaved turkey... not appetizing. Seven minutes later I am sitting down to eat, after a short search for silverware which I finally found in a dresser which is occupying part of the hallway near the kitchen. He needs a maid or a girlfriend who is willing to take care of his place. This is obviously a bachelor pad, and has been for several years by all appearances. I finish off the meat and corn and place the dinner on the kitchen counter while I wash the knife and fork then waste five minutes hunting for towels to dry them before giving up and spending an equally frustrating time in fruitless search for paper towels. None of this makes sense. He has all these nice appliances but doesn’t have kitchen towels or paper ones for that matter?

Sliding the dinner tray back into the box, I go to examine more of the house. It smells dusty and there must be an eighth of an inch of dirt on nearly everything in the living room. Surely he doesn’t sit on this stuff to watch TV. The couch is disgusting. After another exasperating search I finally come up with a vacuum cleaner which, when I check the bag, appears to be hardly used. I take it to the living room and begin to clean up after my absent host. Forty minutes later things are closer to sanitary but the dust in the air has given me three or four sneezing fits. At least I would consider sitting on the couch now. I give it another once over just for general principles. Since I’m at it already I continue in the hall and then in my bedroom and the bathroom just as a precaution concentrating on the area around and on my bed.

An unpleasant thought crosses my mind and I check the sheets and blanket before wandering into the laundry to see if he has laundry soap. He does, some off the wall generic but that’s better than nothing. I wash the bedding and run it through the dryer then remake my bed. While the washer and dryer were running I vacuumed most of the house. The bag in the vacuum is now half full and YES, there was that much dirt everywhere.

Before I realise it I have once again returned to the kitchen and raided the remains of the TV dinner scarfing down the dessert which was a chocolate brownie. My craving for an after dinner snack and for chocolate now satisfied I search for some sort of cleanser for the wooden furniture but find nothing. I make mental note to obtain some pledge, paper towels and at least four cloths to use for cleaning the furniture... Oh and some kitchen towels to dry the silverware and dishes should I use any. Another thought, does he have any pots and pans and even dishes... I don’t remember seeing any of those either. I finally find the dishes in what is supposed to be a pantry but there are no canned goods in there nor are there any fruits or vegetables anywhere that I have found. There is one bag of potatoes which are well on their way to growing a new crop along with the fungus which has found a nice home. Tanner needs to get married to someone, either that or he needs a nursemaid.

I look around for a book to read and don’t find much. It’s obvious he doesn’t spend much time here. This is a place where he may crash but it isn’t a home not that I’ve ever really had much of one myself. I think Mom might be okay - I’m not certain; Dad?... certainly not. Sis neither, as she’s been brainwashed by Dad and my dear brother. I can imagine him even now. He somehow manages to pilfer copies of some of the women’s magazines which show models and fashions. I could just picture my brother’s eyes bugging out, tongue hanging down and drool coming off his mouth as he looks at Katrina modeling a skimpy bikini one day. He needs electric shock therapy and I would love to administer it. Dad? He’s just a plain old religious bigot. Don’t confuse him with someone who cares. If Pastor Richards doesn’t say it’s okay then it’s an act of Satan. I know Mom doesn’t believe a word Richards says but I think she has given up trying to talk sense into Dad.

After putting the vacuum away and dropping the remnants of the TV dinner into the trash can out back, I go into the house once more and set the alarm again then retire to my room putting a chair up against the door under the knob just as a secondary precaution before changing to my nightie and slipping into the clean bed. I love the smell of freshly washed bedding. For some reason I’m really tired and checking the clock I find it is nearly two. Cleaning the house or at least vacuuming it has taken a lot out of me. I make a mental note to me to get some more vacuum bags, just before everything fades into oblivion.

Sometime during the night I wake up sweat pouring off me. My dream still fresh in my mind as I search for the injuries Dad has inflicted upon me as I was dreaming. How he ever realised Katrina and I are one and the same I’ll never know. But then in dreams or nightmares nothing ever needs to be logical, just scary. It was really weird, Dad and Emerson were both there. Emerson was all for yanking my clothes off and making me pregnant and Dad was all for yanking my clothes off and beating me with a razor strap. Oh, yeah... He uses a straight razor to shave. I hate that strap. Sis and Bro were there too, pointing at me so the hordes of illiterate brutes known as our high school football team could come thundering down on me. That probably wouldn’t have bothered me so much if I wasn’t the only person on the opposing team. Mom was in the stands waving some school pennant but I couldn’t see if it was for them or for me.

Tanner was there too trying to convince me to get into his Beemer so he could drive us to Timbuktu for medical care concerning my unborn child which was a product of some European gigolo’s amorous advances. How so many concerns and fears could wind up in one illogically connected series of events in one dream escapes me.

I probably lay there for an hour just trying to get my heart rate back down before I drop off to sleep once again. Moments later I’m awake with the sound of Pastor Richards ranting about morality and the sins of the daughters as he points directly at me. I tried to tell him I wasn’t a daughter, I am a son but my father immediately yelled out, “It’s no son of mine,” so there you are. According to them there is no in between; just black or just white and only white was going to heaven. Of course I don’t believe him concerning that since I know a lot of people who are not white and whom I am convinced will make it into heaven. Did I mention that Pastor Richards is also a racial bigot?

Any way, much of the rest of what’s left of the night goes pretty much the same way with me waking at least a half dozen times. Thinking back upon that I don’t understand how I could fall asleep and wake up so many times in only four hours or so.

The alarm drags me out of my comatose state and I discover I cannot open one eye which has apparently glued itself shut from the same tears which have soaked my pillow. I manage to stumble my way into the bathroom and the shower, which is separate from the tub, and after a few minutes have both eyes open if not wholly functional as yet. God, I hope Tanner has coffee here.

(chap. 4 of 28)
to be continued.

Half a league onward.

That morning Irina picks me up at Tanner’s place. I’m in another one of the skirt suits and before we leave, Irina does my makeup and hair.

“Your hair isn’t perfect, but then you are going to see a judge not do a photo shoot so a few imperfections are permitted. Be certain you have your male ID with you. I'm so proud of you, Schatzi”

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

“I do. It’s all in my purse. And thanks, I guess.” I shoulder my bag and Irina goes out the door while I set the alarm and then exit. Checking that the door is locked and waiting for the chirp which tells me the system is armed then going down to Irina’s car.

We drive to the studio, arriving at the same time as an early courier. Irina lets him in and we follow. I click my way over to Tanner’s office since he isn’t sitting at the photo computer, “Your Courier is here.”

“Thanks, Kat.” He picks up six large envelopes and brings them out to the Courier before receiving a receipt for them. The Courier is departing even as another arrives to deliver an envelope.

“You guys are pretty busy for so early in the morning.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Tanner replies, signing the book showing receipt of the delivery. He gives the guy a tip and finally we are alone.

“Kat, we go see the judge at nine. We’ll leave here about a quarter past eight so we have time to park and get inside before our appointment. I figure that will take us a bit of time since your ID doesn’t match your appearance. They’ll probably have you sign a piece of paper so they may compare your signature before they let us in. Worst case we call the judge and she tells them to let us in. You’re looking good today, by the way.”

I smile, “Thank you. And thanks too for letting me stay at your place. I slept better last night than I have in several months. That alarm system gave me a secure feeling. What’s on for today?” There was no need to tell him about my nightmares nor cleaning part of his fricking house because I was afraid to touch anything.

“It’s pretty light. I’m hoping we may finish the things we need to do quickly and come back to shoot some pics of you in your strapless gown.”

“Oh no. I didn’t know. The stuff is at your place, I didn’t bring it back.”

“Oh...Kay...” Well, we’ll see how the time goes. If we have enough we’ll go pick up the stuff we need for the shoot otherwise bring it in tomorrow and we’ll work it in. So, how are you holding up Sis?”

Again I smile at him, “Better. It helps when you call me ‘Sis’. I feel a little more protected.”

“I was afraid you would be pissed off.”

“I was. But if I’m going to be Katrina for a while then I’ve got to let go of the macho male attitudes or someone will figure out what’s really going on and I don’t think that would help your agency or me one bit.”

“True enough. I’ve got some work I need to finish before we go so make yourself a list of everything you need to pick up at the house and if we haven’t purchased everything yet, make a list of what we still need and we’ll get it while we’re out.”

“Okay, big brother. Yell if you need me.”

He winks at me and I go out as he closes the office door. I’m just walking away as I hear the phone ringing. Tanner answers and it’s quiet for a short bit before I hear him answer, “We shot a few pics in a yet another ensemble to allow you to see how she is with evening clothes. That took a little longer than I thought. You should have the package within thirty minutes. It went out the door about ten minutes ago.” I figure it is Emerson calling about the portfolio.

There was a bit of a pause as Emerson is obviously talking then Tanner answers, “That much, huh? No thanks. I know a hot property when I see it. Her contract’s not for sale. And before you ask, I won’t go exclusive either. We’ve had other offers and I didn’t think you would be interested otherwise I would have asked you earlier, you never seem to like the models I have so how was I to know. Her other offers are non-exclusive and at this point she won’t consider anything else.”

Again there must have been considerable discussion from Emerson’s end.

“Wow. That is quite a bit. I’ll talk with her but I think she will want to stay non-exclusive... What?.. Yes, I know that isn’t normal but neither is she and she is in demand.”

Emerson talks again for a minute before Tanner appears to interrupt him. Knowing Emerson this probably didn’t go over too well.

“Most of the work she’s done has been recent so none of it will likely hit the market for a bit yet... I’m glad you think so. I’ll let her know the offer... Yeah, see you next week Emerson. I’ll get the sizing information and fax it to you in the next day or two.”

I hear him hang up the phone and I knock on the door. He says, “Come in,” so I open the door and look in with the question, “Emerson?”

“Good guess.”

“Do I really want to know what he said and what you just did?”

Tanner answers, “We need to get your measurements and send them over to Emerson. He wants a photo shoot early in the evening at the Gardens with you modeling three gowns on Tuesday. He offered twenty five hundred for the shoot plus modeling fees up to fifteen hundred and I intend to soak him most of that so you stand to make around nine to eleven hundred after taxes for about three or four hours work. I know that isn’t anywhere near as much as Bianca was making but it’s nothing to sneeze at.”

I’m stunned. I just sit in the chair across from Tanner and think about what he just said even as he starts talking again.

“As you probably heard he wants an exclusive contract and I’ve already told him you are doing shoots for other clients so you don’t want an exclusive contract. He even offered to buy out your contract and believe me you don’t want to know how much money I just turned down nor do you want that to happen. At least not with Emerson. He would have you on your back before you could say ‘Carter’s Little Liver Pills’. Go on out and take care of those lists so we may pick up your clothes after we take care of the other stuff. I want to get some more looks into your port as fast as possible.”

He pauses a bit eyeing me speculatively, “Do you think you could do the Tart look as well as you do Wholesome?”

I glare at him, “Tart, hmm? No, thank you.” and I walk out closing the door behind me.

I hear Tanner beginning to do whatever it is Tanner does in his office and I go off to create my clothing lists and to help Irina prepare for our solitary shoot scheduled for this afternoon. This morning’s meeting with the judge is troubling me a bit. Mostly I think it is the gauntlet which ‘my big brother’ said we will go through in order to get inside the building. I’m really not looking forward to showing my male ID while looking like a woman. Visions of handcuffs and violent interrogations are parading across my mind’s eye. I’ve learned not to trust other men... well... most other men.

Most of the work at getting ready has been completed when there is a knock at the door and another Courier pops his head into the studio reception area. I have been out at the desk for a few minutes working on my lists so I greet him learning that Tanner apparently called for another Courier.

Knocking at his office door I poke my head inside, “There is another Courier here. Did you call for one?”

“Yes. Could you have them deliver these four envelopes? All you need to do is give them to the Courier and accept the receipt.”

“Sure. By the way it’s nearly a quarter after eight and you said we should leave about this time.”

Tanner looks around at the clock and blanches even as I am closing the door and walking the envelopes over to the Courier. A minute later he has produced a receipt and is on his way. I hold onto the receipt to give to Tanner when he comes out of his office, which he does a few minutes later.

“Ready to go?” he asks as I hand him the receipt and he stuffs it into a pocket of his coat.

“I just need my purse. Be right back.”

We walk down to his Beemer and he opens my door for me allowing me to slide in as modestly as I might. It isn’t as easy as girls make it look. He shuts my door for me and goes around to get in. Soon we are attempting to merge into uncooperative traffic and finally are on our way. Parking at the courthouse is a bit easier as there is a parking garage about a half block away and we accept the ticket from the dispensing machine which in turn opens the barrier allowing us entry to search for a nearly non-existent parking space. They need some means to determine if there are any spaces remaining before they issue a stub.

We walk across the pedestrian bridge and into the check in area of the courthouse. They process us through the metal detectors which beep at me until I take off my heels. Apparently there are some steel inserts in the shoes so they will maintain their shape as well as support my weight. I manage to pass through the detector with flying colours and they give me my shoes back when they have passed through the X-ray. I also receive my purse back and soon Tanner and I are on our way again. I’m thanking God that I didn’t need to show my ID.

We go to the elevators and ride up to the fourth floor where we walk down a long hallway and encounter another metal detector and two more sheriff’s deputies. This time I do need to show my ID and that causes a bit of a problem since my male name isn’t on the list but Tanner’s name is. We ask if Katrina Van Derholt is on the list, which she is but I have no ID in that name. Tanner asks me to wait here while he goes to have me cleared. The two deputies are just gawking at me. Apparently all they see is this woman and the ID has them doubting their own senses. I’m trying to decide if I want to run or have a nervous breakdown. Soon Tanner is returning and a moment later the judge’s assistant is there clearing the way so I may accompany them. It was embarrassing but not the deadly encounter I had been visualizing.

In the outer office we meet Tanner’s attorney who has prepared paperwork which I need to sign as Mac. After four signatures and a couple of witness signatures each by Tanner and the judge’s assistant, the attorney pronounces the papers ready to be seen by the judge herself. We wait another ten minutes before we are allowed to trespass upon the renown presence of the judge. Again my preconceptions are shattered as I expected someone in black robes and hair drawn tightly back into a bun. She actually is wearing a nice business suit sans blazer, which is on a hanger over at a clothes tree in the corner. Her hair is down across her shoulders and back and she is wearing flats not pumps. She shakes the men’s hands and gives me a woman to woman hug before we all sit, her behind her desk and us in chairs before her.

“All right, Tanner. What sort of mischief have you gotten into this time?”

“Nothing much, Jenny. We just need a fast favor or two.”

“How fast and what sort of favors?”

“Well it has to do with Katrina here...” as he points at me.

“Tan, if you’ve gotten her pregnant I’ll personally lock you up and throw away the key, brother or not.”

“Easy Jen... It’s nothing like that. We, er... Katrina needs a special sort of name change.”

At this point the attorney hands the papers over to Jenny who accepts them and motions for us to wait while she reads them. Several times she looks up at me before continuing. She finishes the papers and looks up pointing at the two men, “You two out, and wait in the other room. You...” she points at me, “stay. We need to talk. And close the door behind you, brother. All the way.”

After we are alone she asks, “Okay. What’s this really all about?”

I explain the whole sodden mess beginning with the rainstorm and continuing through the photo shoots, portfolio creation and Emerson. My chance to make a bundle of money which would help me to take care of the ‘little’ problems with which my body chose to bless me and finally my college education which would also be dependent upon these next two years.

She has been studying me the entire time I’ve been talking, like a bug under a microscope. I finish and she asks a few rather pointed questions. I can see she isn’t convinced.

“What would you do if I don’t sign these papers?”

“I don’t know. My chance at a college education will pretty much be out the window and I’ll need to find a new job. I’m beginning to think I might stand a better chance at finding one that pays more than minimum wage if I remain a female so I will likely give that a try. The one modeling job I took paid really well but I needed to purchase some more clothes with most of it. If I can get one or two more jobs like that I’ll have enough to last a month or two which will let me possibly find a job in the meantime.”

“So if I don’t sign these then you will continue to dress as a woman and try to live as a woman if you can get work?”

“Pretty much. I might even go to college like this because changing back and forth is too difficult and I’m tired of trying to live up to other people’s expectations. Once I have a degree and a better paying job then I may begin to save some money to take care of everything.”

I didn’t understand at the time that what she thought I meant by ‘take care of everything’ and what I meant were really quite different.

She appears to be giving the matter a great deal of thought, “And this modeling job overseas... how do you plan on getting there?”

“If you sign those documents we are going to try to get my driver’s license, social security and birth certificate changed quickly so I may apply for a passport in the Katrina name and then I’ll travel on it.”

“So basically all of your future rests on me signing these documents?”

I am so truly screwed... “I guess that pretty much sums it up.”

“Have you been seeing a doctor about this?”

“A Doctor? No. There hasn’t been time.”

She begins looking around the room rather than at me and then she finally gets up and goes over to some of the books on a shelf, her finger moving across them before finally pulling one of them off the shelf and leafing through it. Finally she brings it back to the desk and continues to read.

I fidget in my seat as the minutes wear on until she reaches over and calls someone, “James... Jennifer Hamersley... Pretty good, yourself?.. That’s good. Say hi to Laurel for me, how’s she coming along by the way?.. That soon? I’m losing track of time. Tell her I want to know the second she heads for the hospital so I may be there... Thanks. I need a very fast favor... You may not think so when I tell you what it is... Thanks again. I need to send someone over to see you. I need a full eval and probably Bill will also need to see the individual today, give him a heads up would you? Yes, I need results before one o’clock... Yes, I know that’s pushing things but this individual is scheduled to leave the country for several weeks and this stuff needs to be done pronto...

Of course it’s very important... Thanks James, I owe you one. And would you please call Bill right away? Whichever of you can see this person first that is where they need to be going. This needs to be very fast track. I need your impressions before one. Thanks James. Call my brother at his cell and let him know which one of you to take this person to see first... I know, if you knew he was involved you would have run the other way. It isn’t like that. He sort of fell into this and you will understand better when you see the paperwork and the individual... Good. Thanks again James... Yes, bye.”

She now dials another number and after a few moments, “Tell those two reprobates to come back into my office.”

Less than five minutes later we are going out into the hallway and the attorney rushes off to obtain a couple of dozen registered copies of the first of the papers. Tanner’s sister is holding the second set without signing until I’ve been taken to see the two doctors. At least the name change stuff is signed and the attorney will take care of most of it then help us through the license and passport stuff.

Tanner’s cell phone rings and I can tell he isn’t too happy with what the person has to say but finally they hang up and we are on our way with papers in hand. The attorney goes one way and we go another finally parking under another tall building where we go up to the third floor and down to see a receptionist. The place smells like a medical clinic or something. We check in and the receptionist hasn’t a clue until he mentions Judge Hamersley. Within a couple of minutes I’m in an examination room with one of those stupid little gowns and told to “remove your clothing and put on the gown. The doctor will be here in just a few minutes.”

This whole thing seems a bit funny to me. What does this have to do with my name change and getting a passport? Tanner’s sister already signed those papers and it’s in the works. Less than a minute after I have finished changing to the gown the doctor comes in and begins to give me a physical.

“What’s this all about, Doctor?”

“All what? Oh, the exam? I understand you are going to Europe in just a few weeks and there might be a few issues with going to portions of Eastern Europe that could adversely affect your health. This is to determine if you are healthy and we will be giving you a few inoculations today and again next week which are a requirement for going there. You almost waited too long for these. If it had been another few days you could not have obtained the necessary papers for your journey. Are you tender here?” as he palpitates part of my body.

“Tend... er... No. I feel pretty good, I don’t think I’m sick or anything.”

“Where will you be traveling?”

“I’m not certain. St. Petersburg for one. I think someone mentioned Paris so maybe there also. There are likely a number of other places but I don’t know the itinerary.”

“Ah. If you go to St. Petersburg you need to visit the Peter and Paul Fortress and the Cathedral. It’s quite stunning.”

“Peter and Paul... as in Peter, Paul and Mary?”

He laughs, “Hardly. That was an excellent joke.”

Now I’m completely confused. There’s another Peter and Paul?

“I need to send you over to the imaging center near the hospital. I want some scans done of you and I’ll be right back with your first immunizations. Don’t go away.”

He’s a strange old duck. Scans near the hospital? What the heck is all this? That must be why the judge wouldn’t sign the second set of papers and rushed me over here. I could have become quite ill if I wasn’t properly immunized before traveling into Europe. As I don’t need to become ill, I’m glad she caught it.

The doctor returns with four syringes and I’m about to pass out looking at them. Fortunately he is quite good with a needle and I really didn’t feel a thing although anticipation is at least 80% of the pain. Even though it was relatively painless, the scare still brought tears to my eyes. My second fright occurred when he stuck me to remove several vials of blood. Needles petrify me, but my own blood nearly causes me to pass out. He placates my bruised mind for a bit before telling me, “All right, get dressed and I’ll meet you up front with the paperwork for the imaging center. I’ll try to get you in right away but they usually have a terrible backlog. We’ll know better after I call them. See you out front.”

He takes his instruments of torture and goes out the door. I change back to my suit and finally make my way out to the lobby again. Tanner is paying for the visit and the doctor is hanging up the phone even as I arrive.

“You need to rush right over to the imaging center. They have an opening for you in just under a half hour. I want to see you back here next Wednesday for the boosters. That will only take a few minutes unless the scans show something. Cathy will give you an appointment time. Cheerio.”

We take the papers for the scans and the appointment card and are rushing off again. Tanner is apologizing about the doctor, “Sorry. I didn’t even think about you needing immunizations. I’m glad sis caught that.”

“That’s okay, Tanner. I didn’t know about them so I guess it was a good thing. I’m just puzzled why I need the scans.”

“I have no idea. Maybe he found something he is curious about, or maybe he just likes to be thorough. This is your first time out of country, right?”

“Yeah, My first time out of State too.”

“There you have it. First time they always check a thousand things which really don’t matter. Sometimes it makes a difference and sometimes it doesn’t. I remember my first time... they found some little bug in my system and kept me from going to Europe for three weeks until they were certain I could handle it. I’ll bet I could have gone and never had a problem but unless all the i’s are dotted and the t’s crossed they can stop you from entering one country or another. It can be a pain sometimes.”

My reservations temporarily addressed we finally pull into the parking lot for the hospital and imaging center. Going into reception we give them my name and very soon someone comes to take me back where once again I change out of most of the clothing and put on another gown. (I hate these things)

I drink some chocolate chalk about the time I’m putting on the gown (I hate that stuff too) and then sit around for ten minutes. A quick scan is done of my abdomen and half an hour later a much more detailed scan is done of my breasts and chest, my abdomen and down at my genitals which once again scares the crap out of me as my mind works overtime figuring they are making me sterile with their scan. After voicing my concerns they too assuage me and confirm that the scans they are doing cannot render me impotent. The one nurse quips, “Unfortunately if you already are impotent, the scans can’t make you fertile. If they could we would have thousands of people standing in line at the door.”

It must be some kind of medical humor as the others chuckle at the comment which I take pretty much at face value.

They finally let me go back and change again then lead me through the maze and back to the lobby. Tanner pays for this too and once again we are off. Now to see the other doctor.

(Chap 5 of 28)
to be continued

The round peg really doesn’t belong in the square hole —
even if it fits.

Tanner finally reaches the location of the next doctor and I just go along for the ride. Obviously Tanner and this guy have some old history because Tanner is grimacing and his unease is spilling over onto me. We have gone from supportive and happy to angry and cynical.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Even so he escorts me into the office before flopping into a chair leaving me to fend for myself while the receptionist seems to be eyeing Tanner much in the way one would look at an uncaged tiger in their livingroom.

My appointment confirmed, I am asked to take a seat and fill out five pages of trivia about my life. Again this seems very strange to me but so did some of his sister’s questions. It dawns on me that this may have something to do with me dressing like a woman for this trip. I’m beginning to wonder if traveling in other countries as a man dressed as a woman might not be a problem beyond just passing as a woman while modeling. The more I think about it the more I begin to think this might not have been such a good idea. Then again, think of all that nice money and after a couple of years I’m free once again and can become me.

They call me to come in and take the clipboard and papers which I have not yet finished.

“That’s okay, hon. You can complete them during your next visit.”

“My next visit?” nets no response from her. She just leads me to an office where the doctor is seated. He jumps up like a jack-in-the-box and comes around his desk to shake hands with me, “Katrina?”

“Yes?”

He looks at the papers and scans through them quickly, “I have a couple of little tests I need for you to take. They are timed and won’t require more than fifteen minutes and then we may talk for a bit after I look at them. Is that okay with you?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I suppose so.”

He takes me through the tests and then does some association questions before he stops and we just begin to talk. Before I know it he is telling me we have finished and he guides me out to the lobby again.

“I would like to see you once more before you depart for... Europe is it?”

I nod yes.

“Okay. Barbara would you set up an appointment for Katrina for next week? Thank you. See you then Katrina.”

“Thank you Doctor.” I’m not certain why I’m thanking him... In fact I’m still in the dark as to what all this means to me.

We begin to discuss my next appointment and I manage to schedule it an hour and a half before I need to see the other doctor for my booster inoculations. Tanner comes over and pays for my session then leads me away as I do my impression of a ‘deer in the headlights’ still trying to piece together what happened all morning. Everything was pretty much fine up until the judge and then I lost track of everything.

We are in the Beemer when I finally come around to thinking about what is going on around me.

“Katrina, we’re pretty close to my house so let’s stop there and pick up the stuff you need from your list on the way back to the studio. We should have enough time to do that before the shoot. If you need to purchase some other things, they’ll just need to wait until we finish the shoot then we may go pick them up.”

“Okay.”

We are stopped at a light so he leans into my field of view a little, “Are you okay, kid?”

“Fine.”

“Yeah, and I’m a monkey’s uncle. What’s wrong?”

“I... don’t know. That last doctor... it just seemed a bit strange. I don’t see what possible bearing it has on my doing any modeling.”

“If it had been up to me you would never have gone there. It wasn’t my choice.”

“Then your sister wanted me to see him for some reason?”

“Probably. She probably wanted some sort of evaluation when she saw how feminine your body looks. Some countries can be a bit off the wall about that sort of thing.”

“Oh.”

“She might also have wanted to be certain you weren’t a ‘gender bender’.”

“A WHAT? Are you being racist?”

“Prejudiced.”

“You’re prejudiced?”

“No, the word you meant was prejudiced not racist; and I’m as understanding as the next guy. In fact a couple of my models are guys who are becoming gals and they look and act the part very well. More power to them.”

“Then why do you use offensive slang?”

“I don’t mean it that way.”

“Then how do you mean it? How do you see me? Am I a... a... ‘gender bender’ as you put it?”

“I don’t know, are you?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

“No wonder.”

“Come on Katrina...”

“MAC. My name is Mac. Remember?”

“Actually, it was just changed to Katrina.”

I look daggers at him, if sheer will could kill he would be six feet under.

“I should never have let you convince me to do this.”

“I thought it was all that nice money that convinced you.”

I close my eyes trying to pretend he isn’t here. The car pulls up to a stop and he shuts off the engine. I open my eyes and the first thing I see is that damn wedding ring on my finger along with the nail polish and two dainty hands on the lap of my skirt. I close my eyes again.

“Come on. We need to get your stuff and make a quick stop on the way back to the studio.” he says to me as he opens my door.

I sit there for a few more seconds before getting out and marching up to the door of the house, taking the key out of my purse and unlocking the door. Then I march on toward the room where my things are hanging. I let him deal with shutting off the alarm system.

He just comes into the room when I dump the soft case holding the gown and the petticoat, and a bag containing most of the things I will need for under the gown into his arms. Then I pick up my purse once again and the three inch heels which match the gown before marching back down the hall and out to the car, opening my own door before getting in then slamming it closed. A minute or so later he is at the trunk and carefully putting my things into it before coming around and driving us off again. The ride back to the studio goes silently.

On the way, we make another stop which has me confused for a few seconds until I remember he said we would need to stop on the way back. He leads me in before he goes up to speak with one of the associates who is standing around looking lost. He rushes off while Tanner starts looking in one of the showcases. I’m about to walk up to him when a lady comes out from the back and goes over to talk with him for a moment before pulling something out of the case. They then beckon me to continue my slow walk toward them as they both begin to approach a chair which is located over in the corner.

I reach them just as the lady turns on a couple of lights and picks up and fiddles with some sort of strange thing from the tray next to the chair as Tan tells me to, “take a seat.”

She swabs my left ear with what smells like alcohol and something else then continues to fiddle with my ear as I turn my attention back to Tanner who is still talking to me. I’m in the middle of trying to understand a question when something goes ‘pop’ and I feel this momentary pain at my ear. I’m reaching up even as the shock registers on my face and she swats my hand away from my ear.

“Don’t touch it. You don’t want to contaminate it. I’ll give you something to take with you to keep it clean while it heals.”

As she said all this she and Tanner exchanged places. I’m reaching up carefully to my left ear even as she is swabbing my right ear. I find something which doesn’t belong in the lobe of my ear and am just begin to ask, “What’s going o...” when that ‘pop’ occurs again but in my right ear. Suddenly I figure it out, Tanner distracted me while she pierced my ears.
That sneaky rat just had my ears pierced.

“...a second one in each ear?”

The shock must have registered on my face since Tan laughs even as I’m cupping both my ears in my hands as I nearly yell, “NO... one is quite enough.”

He pays for my new diamond studs, she gives us a little bottle of some liquid to use several times a day on my ears, and we are on our way out as I seriously begin to consider paying better attention to everything going on around me... Especially when Tanner is involved.

At the studio, I let myself out of the car and march in ignoring Tanner. Irina starts to say ‘hi’ but takes one look at me and opts for discretion as the better part of valor. Tanner finally comes in and shakes his head at Irina who purses his mouth, wiggles his fingers, as he raises his hands in an “I don’t want to know” expression before retreating to his little corner of the world.

The client and models show up a few minutes later and this is probably one of the quietest sessions we have ever had. I do a lot of soul searching during that session. Two hours later it is all over and they have gone. The photos went well as did the client and model care, courtesy of moi.

“Katrina could you get over being angry with me long enough to put on the gown and do your shoot?”

“Why these?” as I point to my earlobes, “and which models?”

“Pardon?”

“Which models? You said some of your models were guys who are becoming girls. Which one’s are they?”

“I don’t know that I should break their confidences like that. If they want to tell you then that’s fine but it isn’t up to me to give them away.”

“In other words, there aren’t any.”

“Schatzi,” Irina breaks in, “Yes, there are a couple of T-girls working for Tanner but like he said, it isn’t our place to out them.”

“Irina. Is that what I am? Am I a T-girl?”

“Only your hairdresser knows for sure... In other words, you must examine your own soul for the answer to that. The rest is just plumbing. It may be difficult plumbing and it may cause you a lot of heartache, especially if the world views you as your plumbing but you view yourself as someone else. Who are you, Schatzi? Who are you deep inside?”

“I... don’t know. I’ve tried so hard to be Mac but my body is saying Katrina. My DNA says Mac but my soul... I don’t know... I just... don’t know. I’m afraid to find out. I’m afraid I won’t be who I really should be. What is a T-girl anyway?” I direct at both of them in general.

They ignore my question and Tan retaliates with one of his own, “Who should you really be?”

“That’s what I don’t know.” I wail, “I mean, sometimes I know I’m Mac yet other times I know beyond a shadow of a doubt I’m Katrina, or at least female rather than male and this war inside me scares me. I wish I could just go to a doctor and he or she could put a thermometer in my mouth and when it comes out it says boy or girl and the decision is made. I mean... look at me... I look like a girl, I have breasts but I also have a penis and scrotum. I don’t know if I have girl parts inside me and this whole thing is so frightening to me that I’m afraid to find out. I’m a freak, an aberration. Something which should never have been born but still... I’m me. I have needs, I have feelings, even though so many have repeatedly hurt me so badly.

I don’t know who I am any more. Oh not just because of these past few days but because of years of verbal abuse and self incrimination. People who don’t understand attack me physically and verbally. People who claim to be so righteous and understanding knife me in the back when I’m not there to defend myself. And there are some who take pleasure in doing it even while I stand there. In school there were times when I thought dying would be preferable to what I was going through, and that was just from the other kids.

Why am I doing this... this... dressing as a female and the whole modeling thing? I need to know who I am. Yes, the money is a great attraction but, I NEED to KNOW who I am.”

I collapse in tears as Irina holds me and even Tanner is moved by my outburst. For me... it’s just one more log in the bonfire.

“Maybe all the world is misinformed and I am confused. I don’t think so, but then again my body is flying against popular opinion and I’m getting so tired of pounding my head against a wall, not to mention placing the rest of my body in harm’s way. Some day, somehow, I’ve got to figure out what’s real. This job as a model will earn me enough money that eventually I may learn more. Can DNA be the whole answer, or is there more to it? Oh hell, I may as well be searching for the meaning of life.”

Tanner comes over and takes me from Irina. He holds me close and just lets me lay my head against him my tears soaking his shirt as Irina rapidly rushes off to get a box of tissues before I stain Tan’s shirt with my make-up mixed with tears. He quickly returns with them so they may absorb my tears and then fresh tissues will allow me to let me blow my nose.

Tanner speaks over my head, “Kid, please don’t take me wrong when I say — you’re a girl in my book. After seeing your tears and hearing all you had to say and the way you said it. Well, not just the way you said it but your body English as you said it. You are as much a girl as any I have seen come through here and I’ve seen quite a few. If I ever say something heartless like I did earlier you have permission to slap me. Just do it a little softly though, okay? I’m kind of sensitive.”

That gets me to laughing while I’m crying and soon I begin choking but the tears become a thing of the past and I’m still being held and comforted by Tanner. How did I ever luck out enough to find these two? The phone rings and Irina answers it speaking for a minute before coming back to tell Tanner that it’s his sister on the phone.

“Hey little Sis, my big Sis wants me to talk with her. Will you be all right for a minute or two?”

I nod yes then he leads me over to the couch where I sit before he rushes off to his office to take the call. I can’t believe I came apart like that here at work. I’ve done it often enough when I’ve been alone but the only other time it happened was when I was at home with Mom and Dad several years ago. Things went from bad to worse when it happened. Now Irina and Tanner both are supportive and concerned and apparently want for me to find my answers just as much as I do.

After ten or fifteen minutes Tanner returns. I look expectantly at him but he says, “They really don’t have a lot of information yet. The scans won’t be back until early next week despite the rush. And the doctor who ordered them won’t have the blood work results until tomorrow so we probably won’t hear anything tomorrow. It looks like we are going to be left hanging through the weekend. Since tomorrow is a quiet day here at the studio, how about we go get your identification changed and get a start on your passport. Then we could go shopping for anything else you might need and come back and do the gown shoot tomorrow late afternoon. I’ll carry the camera while we are shopping so if you wind up trying something on which looks really good I’ll snap a few pics before you change. For lunch today, why don’t the three of us go out for a nice meal and just relax a bit. Tomorrow is another day.”

Irina looks at Tanner, “You’re buying AGAIN?”

“It sort of looks that way, doesn’t it?” he shrugs and smiles.

“Schatzi, I don’t know what you’ve done to him but he’s a changed man. Two meals in two days. I’m shocked.”

“You can pay for your own, if you want to.”

“Are you kidding? You offered, we accepted. End of story. Isn’t that right, Schatzi?”

I smile at Tanner in an impish sort of way then slip my arm around his about to let him lead me out toward the Beemer then remember I need my purse and rush off to grab it before returning and latching onto Tan’s arm again. Irina locks up quickly before setting the alarm then follows us moments later.

We ride to another nice restaurant, arriving long after the lunch bunch have departed and well before the dinner rush thought of occurring. We are shown to a table shortly after we arrive even though we have no reservation.

Tanner seats me and then he and Irina both sit down and he looks around, “This must be a first. No reservation and we seat within three minutes.”

I look around, “In case you haven’t noticed, only three of the tables are occupied. I think we made it in during a lull.”

“I’ve noticed more than that. I’ve noticed that over the past few days your choice of words and speech patterns has become more refined. That tells me you have a pretty good intellect as well as excellent verbal skills which you tend to hide as Mac but rely upon as Katrina. Not to be a pain in the ass but, I think I prefer Katrina.”

I’m not certain if he just complimented me or insulted me. I think about it and decide to accept it as a compliment since I am Katrina at the moment. My mental battle of the sexes is still going strong. Does God know who I am, and what happens if I make the wrong choice?

The waiter arrives to take our order and I ask for “an 8 ounce sirloin, medium well and a tossed salad with Italian. Water to drink.”

Tanner orders a large 14 ounce sirloin and Irina copies him, they both go for coffee as their beverage. Tanner then orders a glass of wine for each of us. After the waiter departs I whisper, “Tanner, I’m under 21. I can’t drink.”

“You look twenty one to me, Sis. You need to learn to sip just a little with your meal. In Europe the wine will be important to your health, so you’ll probably have a little with most of your meals... don’t trust the water and bring purification tablets.”

I must have looked shocked.

“What? You don’t have any purification tablets? Irina, remind me to lay in a supply for us to take with us.”

“Schatzi, he’s joking. Some places the water is not safe but there is always bottled available somewhere. It isn’t like thirty years ago after all.”

“You are playing on my naivety aren’t you? Just because I’ve never been to Europe. Do you like to frighten me?”

“I’m sorry, Sis; it’s a brother’s duty to give his little sister a hard time.”

“If I wanted a hard time, I would have walked nude through the streets during rush hour.”

“Now there’s a picture.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

I’m still trying to figure why Tanner has changed so much toward me these past couple of days. One minute he is trying to help and the next he is scratching at me as though I am a scab he needs to remove. Because of the time relationship, I know it must have something to do with me dressing as a girl but the question is... why?

After we finish supper we go back to the office so Irina may pick up his car and go home. Tanner drives us to his place and we go in then talk for a half hour before retiring to separate bedrooms. I make a point of placing a chair under the doorknob to slow entry to the room while I’m sleeping. Oh, I trust him... About as far as I can throw him even though he has always been square with me when I was Mac. As Katrina I am taking a few precautions because he seems to be acting a little different toward me. I’m pretty certain he doesn’t treat his models in the same manner as Emerson does his, but I’m not going to take a chance.

“... Katrina? HEY SIS! It’s time to wake up. Come to the door and show me you’re alive.”

My mind peels open an eye and I begin to look around vaguely aware someone is pounding on the door, “Go away, let me sleep.”

“Come on Sis, no such luck. It’s 6:00 and I need to be at the studio by 7:00 so we need to be out of here in forty minutes. This is the third time I’ve called you. What do you want for breakfast? There’s cereal and eggs and more cereal... milk.” Now he becomes more petulant, if guys can become petulant, “Come on Sis, prove to me you’re up and then I’ll leave you alone.”

I grumble my way over to the door stubbing my toe on the leg of the chair before moving it so I may open the door. I pull it open and stand there looking at Tanner with my eyes barely open. He takes one look at me and then bundles me down the hall to the bathroom and I’m still too asleep to complain. He starts the water in the shower and pushes me in, nightgown and all. Now I’m awake.

“Aughh... Why did you do that?”

“To bring you awake. We need to leave...” he checks his watch, “in about 35 minutes.”

“What’s the rush?”

“We’ve got a shoot at 8:00 and we need to get the equipment and drive to the location. Irina will meet us there.”

“So why can’t I sleep a little while and come in later?” It makes sense to me even though my nightgown is soaked and I’m standing in the shower now nearly awake.

“Katrina, come on. You have a location job and we can’t very well start without you. You aren’t becoming related to Bianca are you?”

“Are you... What? Me? A location shoot? Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”

“Because I didn’t know yesterday. I just got the call for a one-shot about half an hour ago. You’re the only model I have available on such short notice and we may add this into your portfolio as well. I’m hoping for three or four others before we leave for Europe.”

“Okay, Why me? You have a lot of other girls.” I fail to note that I have included myself with the girls without thinking about it.

“Because this job is in response to YOUR port, a dozen of which I sent out to prospective clients. Get a move on we don’t have much time.”

He departs the bathroom closing the door behind him and I stand there a few seconds trying to decide exactly what just happened. Finally I realise I’m being drowned and shut off the shower then peel off my soaking nightgown. I’ll get him for this. Yawning, I snag a towel and pat myself dry after hanging my nightgown on the shower nozzle so it may drip dry while we are out. Fortunately my hair is down my back and I’ve been facing the shower faucet. I’m still nearly asleep.

Wrapping the towel around me I peek out the bathroom door and hear Tanner in the kitchen so I hurry down the hall to my room and quickly put on some things so if he comes to check on me I’ll at least be partially dressed. If I’d known this was going to happen I wouldn’t have spent until nearly midnight reading. I usually go to sleep about nine when I know I need to be up before the sun. After all, a girl’s got to get her beauty sleep... What did I just think? A girl? I question this for a minute before I decide I think it’s a good sign because it means I’m beginning to wake up enough to question my gender again.

I manage to stumble out of the bedroom in time to have a couple of eggs and one slice of toast despite trying to put my shoes on the wrong feet and then deciding the shoes didn’t match the clothing and going to change them anyway.

Tanner bundles me into his Beemer and we are off for the office. Not bad. We’re leaving twenty minutes later than he wanted but he can make up some of that time at the studio when we pick up the RV. Most of his equipment for location shooting is already in it.

“Do you think I could have a cup of coffee before we head out? I need something to bring me awake and the cup I had at your place isn’t enough.”

“We’ll stop on the way and get you a latte.”

“Thank you.”

Tanner glances over at me and smiles before turning back to watch the road again, “You’re welcome. Keep that attitude and you’re going to have the clients begging for you to do their modeling.”

I’m too sleepy to rise to the bait and just remain silent. Soon we are at the studio and he hits the code on his remote, opening the large roll-up door then drives his Beemer into it’s parking spot. I’m getting out of the car before he comes around and when he sees I’m helping myself he goes ahead to the RV unlocking it and beginning to check the equipment before unplugging the RV from the wall socket.

He has quite an arrangement in the RV. All the equipment has specific places it stows and once in it’s spot it is plugged into a power strip which is powered off of an invertor which is connected to the second battery so he won’t discharge the one that starts the RV. Both batteries charge from the vehicle’s charging system when it’s running. When it’s parked here, he may plug it in thus maintaining the second battery’s charge while still charging the packs which run his lights and strobes and cameras. His laptop also is powered from this arrangement as well as it’s own internal battery. He has two of those just in case. Needless to say we seldom arrive anywhere to do a location shoot with dead batteries on our hands. Then again, a lot of location shoots have power so batteries aren’t usually a big problem.

This shoot is down at the ‘Grant’, Tanner told me that much. I still don’t have runway training so I hope it isn’t anything like that. I’m doing all I can just to pull off ‘static’ shots. Besides, a runway would mean an audience. An audience is comprised of people... lots of very critical people and a bad modeling job would mean poor sales. I’m not ready for that sort of pressure. I’m doing the best I can just to be accepted looking as I do with only a dozen or so around. Several hundred would frighten me to death if not get me killed the moment just one of them figured it out. IT meaning ME.

He is happy with the equipment and we lug several of his camera cases over to the RV loading them on board. Next are the three large tripods and the synchronizing computer. That’s the first indication I’ve had that this will be a complex shoot. The computer’s sole job is to assure no two cameras fire at exactly the same time so the strobes won’t provide conflicting lighting and ruin one of the shots. After that stuff is inside the RV he heads for his office and brings out a second laptop. I know this shoot is important if he is going to download the photos to two laptops. He isn’t doing much to help build my confidence.

“Uh, Tanner? Just what is this shoot? I don’t think I’ve seen you take all this stuff except once before.”

“No big thing, Sis. The problem is we have a very narrow shooting window so I’ve got to pull out all the stops and grab every shot I can as fast as possible. We won’t have the opportunity to do it again therefore, four cameras, two computers and the synchronizer. Just try not to look directly at any of the strobes because once they begin flashing they are going to be going a mile a minute for a while. I figure there will be eight or nine hundred photos taken before we finish the session but that will be weeded down to less than a hundred in pretty short order once we get back to the studio. No biggie,” he repeats again.

Easy for you to say.

(Chap 6 of 28)
to be continued

Into the Valley of Death, or... ‘What do you mean... Audience?’

We are in the RV and on our way by 7:30 and Tanner figures we will just make our arrival time to begin to set up. I’m not exactly dressed to help with that and remind him. He again takes this moment to assuage me and to give me a bit of a heads-up as to what’s coming down.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

“Not a problem, I’ll grab a couple of warm bodies to help drag everything in. When we get there the first thing we’ll do is take a look at the room and I’ll plan my equipment locations. You’ll go off with Irina to have your makeup done and when the client and their people arrive, you may change into the first outfit. We’re going to borrow a room which is being set up for a fashion show which starts tomorrow so don’t panic when you see the runway. We’ll use it but you don’t need to do anything special. It’s just a convenient prop, and it will give you a chance to see what it’s like on a runway. Ask Irina and he’ll help you a bit so you may pull it off with a little idea of how things are done.”

When he said there would be a runway, my eyes must have become as big as saucers. I almost forgot I still need coffee.

“We’ll get some at the hotel. Not to worry, Katrina. We’ll take good care of you.”

I hope so. We finally arrive a few minutes before eight and park around the back so the equipment may be brought in without blocking the lobby. As he said, Tanner almost immediately makes arrangements for my coffee but warns me that I need to begin cutting back on it just as I did on potatoes and that other stuff. We finally make it into a large room which could readily handle a banquet and more. There is a low stage and, true to his word, there is a runway extending down from the stage and nearly fifty feet into the audience area reaching about three quarters of the way from the stage to the entry doors. At a guess they could seat about 500 in the room even with the runway sticking out like that.

I see Irina setting up at a remote corner of the stage and walk over to find a way up onto the stage then go over to Irina for my makeup session.

“Good Morning Schatzi. Isn’t this wonderful? I told you we would make lots of that nice green stuff together. Here sit for Irina and I’ll begin your make up. The highlights will need to wait until I see what you are first wearing but we may begin.”

He continues to banter as he works on my face, frowning whenever I need to take a sip of coffee.

The client shows about half past and Tanner is just putting the finishing touches on his equipment placement before wiring everything together.

After Irina finishes his initial work on my face I begin to pump him for information about walking and standing on the runway. He is a veritable fountain of information including how to walk and to place my feet as well as turning and holding my head up rather than watching where I am walking, which shouldn’t be too difficult, plus a lot of other tips. He shoos me over to the runway where he guides me through it several times and it doesn’t seem all that hard except for the one foot before the other but pointed slightly outward. As I don’t walk that way all that much it is something on which I need to concentrate. I find that walking that way tends to cause my hips to exaggerate their movement slightly but I suppose I could get used to it. Thinking back to my memories of most of the models I seem to remember them all walking that way most of the time.

Just one more piece of the puzzle to add to my collection so my actions match my appearance.

The client is finally finished with controlling her minions and she heads on over toward Tanner who sees her coming and breaks away from the setup of his laptops and synchronizer. I can see he is going all out with all his strobes and the three tripod mounted cameras are in place, one of which is on the runway itself pointing back at the stage. The pan and tilt mechanisms are on the tripods and have the heat/motion detectors attached so they will follow me as I walk on the runway. He really is going all out. I see the automatic focus remote zoom lenses are also attached to the cameras and to the detectors. I’ve never seen him use all this stuff at once so this must be an important shoot. Why did he pick me if it’s so important? He knows I don’t have any experience.

“Katrina. KAT, could you come down here a minute?”

I sway my way down the runway with the three cameras tracking me. That’s really scary. Sort of reminds me of the ‘War of the Worlds’ and those tripod machines which were creating such devastation. I almost expect them to start following me walking along the side of the runway.

“Yes, Tanner?”

“Katrina, this is Ellen. Ellen... Katrina Van Derholt. Katrina will be modeling your creations this morning.”

“Katrina...”

“Pleased to meet you, Ellen.”

“Now Katrina, listen closely. After each change, Irina will be adjusting your makeup and hair then when he finishes I want you to walk to the center edge of the stage and stand there ready to walk the runway. When you see the first strobes fire, begin to walk the runway until you reach the point where you are directly between the two cameras which are positioned out to the sides of the runway.” I turn my head and look at the spot he’s talking about then nod as I turn my head back to continue to listen to him.

“Stand at that spot for a moment then slowly turn a full circle until you are aimed back at the stage. Pause again, and then walk back up to the stage and go for the next change. After that it all repeats beginning once again with the next change and Irina. Got that?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Ellen is going to remain down here with me along with a half dozen of her people. There are several others who will help you change and while you are changing and Irina is taking care of things I will download the photos from the cameras to the computers. I’m likely to be almost anywhere with the handheld so don’t be surprised if you see some flashes from anywhere to the sides. The first creation we may do twice. I might want to see what it looks like with the lights up and then once again with the house lights down. That will tell me how I want to shoot the rest. If I do all the shooting with the house lights down then there are little red lights similar to the idea of lights on either side of an airport runway to guide you. They will indicate the edges of the runway. Keep your head up and only look down with your eyes.”

“Okay, Tanner. I understand.”

“Do you want to try it once right now just to see what it will be like?”

“Could I? I mean... Yes, I think I would like to do that. Every place is a little different and a practice run might not be a bad thing for me.”

Ellen smiles, “Why don’t you go back to the stage and then he may start you the same way as if you are modeling one of my creations. That will give me a chance to see you in action as well as allow you to get a feel for the lights and action.”

“Thank you.” I walk back to the stage as the cameras follow my every move. They still remind me of that movie, just smaller and they aren’t walking along with me.

I’m at the stage and ready to walk. A few moments later there is a flash from a strobe out to my right and I begin walking down the runway placing my feet as Irina said to do it, trying hard not to trip myself while also trying to make it look like I’ve done this a thousand times. This isn’t easy. The strobes lined along the runway have been flashing three or four times a second and I don’t understand how they could do that so rapidly without some of the shots overlapping. I reach the stopping point and the flashes continue. I perform my turn desperately trying to remember how the models I’ve watched have done it. Eventually I end up aimed back at the stage, finally walking back before stopping at the stage where I turn to face the seating once again.

I hear Ellen saying something and Tanner replying as I continue to stand there.

“KATRINA. Can you hear me okay?”

“Yes.”

“I’m having the house lights dimmed quite a bit and then I will cue you and I would like you to do it again but in the subdued light. This time there will be several follow spots tracking you so don’t look directly at them either or you may not be able to see the runway and I don’t want you to fall off.”

HE doesn’t want me to fall off? Does he think I want to do it?

“I understand.”

It seems like I’m standing there forever but it is probably only a minute or maybe two before the house lights go out and we are in the dark as my eyes are attempting to adjust then the lights come up just a bit. I can just make out the seats and the cleared area where Tanner has been moving around so this isn’t too bad. The little red lights on the runway are now fully visible to me so I don’t see what the fuss is all about. Suddenly I can’t see a thing and there are several lights trained on me. The area around me is bathed in light for perhaps ten feet but beyond that all is darkness even those little red lights.

I’m still considering this development when a strobe flashes off to my left this time and it takes me a moment to realise that was my cue to start walking. This time staying on the runway is a bit trickier. I have strobes going off all over the place and the spots are cutting my range of visibility down to next to nothing. Before I know it I’m in between the two cameras so I stop walking for a moment posing in place before doing a slow spin and winding up aimed back down the runway toward the stage... I hope. I faintly see the light red lights and begin my walk back to the stage gradually seeing more and more as I leave the strobes behind me and the angle of the spots becomes such that there is more of what’s ahead of me that is visible. I reach the stage and turn to face the audience area with a sigh of relief on my lips waiting for the strobes to stop triggering.

“That was good, Katrina. I like it much better with the house lights down so we will do the whole shoot like this. Go ahead back and change then have Irina take care of your make up and hair and we’ll begin.”

I nod and turn to go further onto the stage noticing someone coming to guide me over to where the clothing is hanging on the metal rack waiting for the human rack on which to hang,

As I turn, I hear Tanner beginning to talk to Ellen and the murmur of a low conversation falls away behind me as I am escorted off stage to change.

The changes take more time than I thought they would since the gowns and dresses are not quite my shape requiring them to be adjusted and pinned here and there to make them more presentable for the shoot. This is new to me as the static modeling shoots were not this particular and the clothing was a bit closer to my contours. I suppose the urgency of this shoot precluded the time to make such adjustments. That’s something else I think is a bit strange... In the couple of months I’ve worked for Tanner, we’ve had some sudden shoots but usually sudden is a day or two’s notice... not an hour or two.

I know he gets a higher premium for unscheduled shoots and usually the models do also so I’m beginning to wonder just how much this little job might pay. Sorry, I’ve got to be practical you know... I’m in this for the money, remember? Those little things like repairing my body and going to college so I may have a career all require that green stuff to begin things rolling.

The two eggs and slice of toast I had for breakfast have long since gone by the wayside, or the runway perhaps, and my stomach is just beginning to complain when the final gown has been reached. This one is really dreamy and I love it. If I could take any of them this would be the one but these are all likely extremely expensive one time creations so I will need to wait until the less expensive knock offs start to show up before I may have one. I’ll bet this one goes for three or four and that’s a little outside my price range... yeah, by about twenty or thirty times. If I want to save money for my operations and College I better stop thinking about buying clothing so often. What am I doing buying so many clothes anyway? It isn’t like I’m going to be wearing them once I get repaired.

A hint of sadness crosses my mind at the thought and I’m not certain if it’s because I can’t fix the problem for a couple of years yet or if...

I realize I’m over at Irina who has been diligently working on my face again making me look as I should for this gown and the event it for which it screams out that it was intended. He finishes and I look in the mirror. Something isn’t right. I stand there for a bit trying to place the nature of the problem.

“Schatzi, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think this looks right.”

“What? The gown, your make up? Let Irina get another look... But you look nice Schatzi. What is wrong?”

I’m still looking and holding my hair and looking some more.

“It’s my hair...” I pull it back hard so most of it is hidden away behind my head. “Doesn’t this look better?” as I turn and face him.

“Here, come sit again and let Irina look.”

He holds my hair a number of different ways before finally drawing it back and piling most of it into a small roll at the back of my head. He fastens it and has me look again.

“Yes... that’s it. Thank you, Irina.” I give him a little peck on the cheek then prance/flow out to my position on the stage.

A few moments later it all begins again. I walk the runway placing my feet just so and the confidence gained during the past five gowns and dresses now wrapped up carefully into the best presentation I may give in order to properly present this marvelous creation I’m wearing.

When I make it back to the stage and the strobes stop firing the spots go out and I’m momentarily blind. Slowly the house lights come up again and I am able to see a bit, looking back to see Ellen’s reaction to the presentation. She and Tanner are in a conference looking at the screen of one of the laptops. I am able to see photos coming up on the screen only to flash away and be replaced by others. My vision has not completely returned but I do see several dozen people out there. Most of them shadows far at the back of the room with about a dozen close in along the runway. It’s funny, I couldn’t see them while I was walking by; the spotlights and strobes blinded me so. Now with the house lights up and my eyes beginning to come back to normal, I can see them much more easily. Most of those in the back are now departing with only three or four still there, some of whom are writing or conferring together.

I go off to change back to my street clothes and when I return to have Irina change my makeup to match those clothes and normal daily wear, I see nearly everyone has gone. Tanner has not put anything away as yet. He is talking with some man who is vaguely familiar. I think about it and remember he looks something like one of the ones who was seated at the rear of the room. Irina repairs my makeup and puts my hair right once again so I don’t “develop a headache from having it pulled back so hard.” Too late.

Walking off the stage as Irina begins packing his kits, I make my way to Tanner who is still busy talking with whomever the man happens to be. They are exchanging cards even as I approach from behind the man who is now walks past Tanner toward the room exit.

“How did I do? Was that all right?”

“It was great, Katrina. So great that both Ellen and Pendercot both want you to model their things over the next three days.”

“Three days?..” The light suddenly dawns, “You mean on the runway??? In the SHOW???” My voice probably goes up an octave or two in surprise and disbelief. “I... I can’t... I mean... I don’t know how. I’ll look like I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing. You saw. This is the first time I ever did this and it was really frightening.”

“You could have fooled me. And both of them and a number of others from their companies. You looked quite professional up there. I don’t think the fashion reporters figured it out either, although if Ellen had realized they were there she would likely have chased them out until the show itself, but a little advance publicity never hurts.”

“But I knew it didn’t matter. I knew if I made a mistake we could do it over. I mean... In the SHO...” I suddenly realise he said ‘reporters’. My voice suddenly becomes very small, “Reporters? There were reporters? Mom will see me in the paper? Oh God, if she tells Dad, I’m dead.”

I’m so stunned I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.

“And in the show??? Oh God, I can’t do it in the SHOW. At best the other models will think I’m pretentious. They’ll think I’m a fraud. And they’ll be right on both counts.”

“Hey, Kat. Better you do it and get paid all that nice money or someone else will do it and you’ll get nothing.”

“But I’ve never... I can’t... They all have years of experience and this show is important. If I mess up then it means a lot of money to the company whose product I’m modeling and that means there could be people losing their jobs just because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Kat, come over here. Look at some of these photos and at the short clips taken by that camera. In fact let’s look at the clip of that last gown you modeled since you had a little experience under your belt by the time you did that one.”

He took movies of me. I didn’t know he took movies of me. The camera on the runway can take movies?

We are about to watch the movie when Irina walks up to join us. The movie begins playing as we silently watch. Yes, a lot of the mistakes I made in the early gowns are gone. I’ve learned a lot and the last presentation looks pretty good. No, I’m not patting myself on the back. I’m trying to remain detached and just carefully observing that which I see.

Irina grabs me in a hug, “Oh Schatzi. You are so good. We will make all kinds of nice money and you will be known all over the world.”

Oops, wrong thing to say. Tanner sees my face switch from stunned pleasant surprise at a job well done, to stunned shock and fright at being a famous or perhaps infamous model should my secret ever get out which, knowing Dad, would happen about thirty seconds after he sees my picture. Or maybe... Maybe it won’t. He might be so embarrassed that he will hope no one recognises me and, if I’m lucky, he won’t say anything but just kill me if I go home. Why am I doing this? Oh, yeah. All that nice money.

(Chap 7 of 28)
to be continued

I walk alone and wonder “who am I?”

The Rosetta Stone program finally arrived, so now on top of everything else I’m going to spend my evenings learning Dutch. Thanks, Tanner. I was hoping he had been joking when he said he sent for the program.

We spent the early afternoon getting my driver’s license changed while Irina was ‘minding the store’ then we went around in circles trying to change my birth certificate.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

It finally took Tanner’s attorney and his sister, the judge, to change the official’s minds. Then they say they’ll send us a revised copy in four to six months. It takes another call with the judge and the threat of the arrival of two Marshals with four John/Jane Doe warrants to convince them they will make the changes now and give us copies immediately. I hope she was kidding about the warrants because if she wasn’t I don’t ever want to be on her bad side.

I think the whole issue was a case of not recognising this was an important and timely concern rather than an attempt at outright defiance of the court. I feel it’s a shame they had to carry it to such an extreme when they could so easily have had one of them spend the twenty minutes accomplishing the job and gone on with other things, instead of three of them spending three hours telling us why it couldn’t be done. Maybe it’s just my math or something but that seems like a difference of 27 to 1 and all waste since they had to do the twenty minutes on top of the arguments anyway. Then again what do I know? I’m not into birth certificates and registrations.

That little delay has now taken us past closing time for the Federal offices so we can’t apply for the passport until Monday since I’m working the show Friday morning through noon Sunday. This modeling business is a lot more demanding than I thought. Waiting until Monday is going to be cutting it extremely fine. Tanner is now much more concerned, enough so that he calls his sister again and asks if she has any pull which could get the passport issued in less than a week. I don’t know what she said but he seems slightly relieved but still apprehensive.

“Tanner, not to change the subject but... how can I model for two different companies in the show? Isn’t that, like, considered a conflict of interest or something?”

He laughs, “Or something should cover it. Ellen designs one of a kind clothing. The styles and products sell for anywhere from eight to fifteen thousand or so and she never makes another of the same design so her clients have one-of-a-kind designer clothing to wear to special functions. The things you wore today are some designs which never sold and she is going to try to market them to people like Pendercot who market to the masses with mass produced copies of original items. Pendercot is the one for whom you will be walking the runway. Probably four, maybe five outfits twice each day of the show. Ellen wants you to spend time in her booth and wandering on the convention floor, showing off some of the same things you did today on the runway. This evening I’m going to be printing poster sized prints of you for her to use in her booth. She was late getting in here this year and normally has the photos taken at least a week or two before the show. That was the reason for the rush. She didn’t have the chance to get in here or to see her normal New York photographer. He doesn’t have any models anyway. We were just lucky that you were immediately available.”

“So she is stuck with me by default.”

“No. She is very impressed with you and with the fact you were willing to come in on such short notice to help her out. I still soaked her eighteen hundred for your fees but...”

“Eighteen Hundred? Dollars?”

“No, peanuts. Of course, dollars.”

“Oh, but that includes your expenses.”

“Katrina, I charged her plenty for my own work and the charge also covers the colour posters I’m printing tonight and which we are delivering to her early tomorrow morning. The eighteen hundred is just the modeling fees. I take twenty percent of each fee you earn and then taxes come out of the balance paid to you so you made roughly a thousand to eleven hundred after taxes today.”

“Holy shit. Oh, sorry. Wow. I made about a thousand for five hours work?”

“Something like that. You have several times you need to be modeling something for her on the convention floor which was included in those fees so probably closer to nine hours work. She especially liked when you changed your hair style for that last gown. She felt you really cared about her creations.”

“I do. I think they’re really nice but I especially like that last one, but at fifteen thousand, that’s a bit steep for me. I’ll wait until the copies come out.”

“Maybe you could ask her if you could wear that one to dinner the first night. It would get her some more publicity and you would have the chance to wear it again.”

I’m a bit excited at that prospect. “I could also get behind the idea of taking it to Europe with me and wearing it there a few times. Do you think she would let me do that?”

“Probably. But if you get anything on it she’ll probably kill you.”

“I’ve had people try to do that before, so what else is new? I can’t ask her to do that. She needs to sell it.”

“She doesn’t really need to sell the gown itself, rather she sells the design. Usually the purchaser wants the gown too but maybe we could convince her to retain it this time so you could wear it once or twice.”

“Tanner, are there dinners at the locations where we will be modeling in Europe?”

“Some of them.”

“Maybe I could wear it there too.”

“You must like it.”

“I do.”

“It isn’t that simple I’m afraid. You’ll be expected to wear something you have modeled for Emerson at the dinners in Europe.”

“Oh.” crestfallen...

“But when you, Irina and I go out to dinners on our own, you could wear it.”

“And if anyone asks then I may tell them about Ellen’s designs?”

“More likely give them a card for her.”

“Does she do business in Europe?”

“I think somewhere around half of it comes from a few European countries. I could ask her.”

“Would you? I’d wear it nearly every night if she would let me.”

“You’re a guy all right. A woman wouldn’t be caught dead wearing the same thing night after night.”

I pout, “She might if it was something as yummy as that gown. Especially when each night is in a different city and the people wouldn’t know she has worn it the night before.”

“Okay, I’ll grant you that. You looked so good in it that I’m adding it into your portfolio, which is becoming pretty impressive. You have a heavyweight under your belt now and after Pendercot you’ll have two.”

“They’re heavyweights?”

“Yep. Ellen is extremely well known in her circles which include some the major political players in the world. Pendercot is also very well known but by the brand name rather than his own. His businesses have a toe-hold in Canada, the US, most of Europe, Australia and New Zealand. He provides fashion for several big name department chains around the world. To model his clothing and get your photos modeling his clothing posted in those department stores could go a long way in making a name for you, young lady. Well, you’ve got some studying to do and I need to spend a number of hours producing the posters for Ellen. We are getting up early tomorrow and leaving by six thirty. Please be ready.”

I look around and discover we are at his house. He lets me into it, disarming the alarm and making certain I have remembered the Rosetta program. He tells me to eat light and to set the alarm after he closes the door, “When I return later tonight, I’ll disarm it when I come in so it won’t wake you. I WILL rearm it after I check everything. Be certain to get to sleep early. ‘Night Katrina.”

He kisses me on the forehead and I don’t protest a blue streak. In fact, I’m thinking about that gown again and didn’t realise he kissed me until he was out the door and down the walk. By then I’m not certain if I’m angry he did it or if I’m secretly pleased. I set the alarm and go fix myself something to eat. It only takes me three attempts to find something in all his TV dinners that isn’t on my prohibited list.

After supper I begin to study the Rosetta Program and two hours later send myself to bed. Sometime during the night I come partially awake as I hear my door open for a moment and then close again. I listen more intently and hear Tanner’s bedroom door close. I try to make out the time on the alarm clock but fall asleep again before I do so.

The next morning I’m awake just moments before my alarm and shut it off just as it begins it’s shrill. I have just over an hour to get ready. I’m not very hungry this morning and find it necessary to force myself to eat some cottage cheese and a peach half. It tastes so good that I have another before we depart for the studio to pick up the posters he produced the night before. We will drive to the show in the RV so he has his equipment and may set up a small photo area at Ellen’s booth. Photo sessions always attract attention at a show. He also brings the one notebook computer and his portable camera with the camera/ lenses case.

We arrive at the show and discover Irina has again beat us and is waiting. Now equipment is carried in and set up at Ellen’s little corner of the world before the three of us move on to the model’s backstage area where all the women dress in the creations and have their makeup corrected as necessary prior to walking the runway. Pendercot meets us and we are guided to his area which has a changing room with four girls, including me, in the room. There is a small area near the room where Irina may touch up our makeup as necessary and he is located next to four others who are doing the same thing. Apparently there are other changing rooms and these are the makeup areas for those other girls who will be showing the apparel of other show participants.

The others are looking through the things on the racks like they know what they’re doing and here I am acting like an illiterate flower girl from the 1840's. Finally one of the girls comes to my assistance.

“First time at a cattle show?”

“Huh?” I do so love to act intelligent.

She smiles, “Have you done runway showings before?”

“Yes — but it was a solitary thing. I was the only one involved and the client had people to help me.”

“You have done private showings?”

“Yes.”

“Well this isn’t much different. Just a lot more hectic. So I take it you have never needed to figure out which item you wear first nor the order in which you wear them?”

“Uh... No, I have not.”

“Did you take any of the clothing off the rack?”

“Yes. I looked at each item.”

“Did you place them back on the rack in the same place where you took them down or did you just put them back anywhere?”

I take a few seconds to think about that and she throws another question at me before I may answer, “Are you having a problem with understanding my questions?”

Well, I’m not stupid honey... “No, I understand.” trying to throw just a bit of accent into it.

“Your first language isn’t English is it?”

By now the other girls have finished their inspection of the things on their racks and are beginning to follow the conversation.

One of them throws something at me, “Parlez-vous Francais?”

The other immediately sounds me out with, “ ¿Habla usted Espaá±ol?”

The first girl just watches me.

I pray to God and take the chance, “Ik spreek Nederlands.”

“What was that? German?”

“I speek...”acting like I’m thinking about words, “Duutch.”

This immediately has a partially desired effect of the three of them reacting with a denial of the ability to speak Dutch to my great relief and the further attempt by all three of them to explain loudly, in English, just how all this works — simultaneously — which almost leaves me more confused than I was when I first came through the door.

“Each of these three days we will be modeling works by the same manufacturer or designer. Each day will be different items and they will be shown in the order in which they have been placed on the rack so it is important none of us remove something and place it back in a different location on the rack. There will be a morning and an afternoon showing since there are not enough seats for everyone to be here at one showing.

I catch this fairly quickly but with all three of them trying to explain, it takes me a couple of attempts to catch the drift. They put it down to language translation problems.

There are seven items on each rack so I take it that I will be wearing seven different outfits and just need to understand the way the whole system works. Fortunately at this point there is a knock on the door and the first girl opens it to allow Tanner to enter.

“Oh, Tan. This girl doesn’t speak English so well and she needs this whole thing explained to her. She needs to be told the order in which to wear the things on her rack and she has taken things off the rack so she needs to tell us if she put them back in the same spot from which she removed them. It looks like she is the third one out in our group of four so she also needs to know her position in this turkey shoot.”

Tanner laughs and looks at me before answering, “Thanks Iris. Girls, this is Katrina; she’s Dutch and has some modeling experience but mostly in private showings and only limited runway experience. The client has expressly asked for her along with a few others so any help you could give her will be appreciated. She’s really pretty smart but as you probably found out the language barrier slows her down a little.”

“No kidding. Okay, Tan. If you could help us out here a bit then we’ll keep her pointed in the right direction.”

The one who asked if I spoke French pipes up, “Oui, we will see she doesn’t trip herself and get her to the party on time. Maybe you could talk with her about her rack and the speed of the show. These things move at a much faster pace than the private showings. She also will need to know where she is to go from this room to have her makeup checked and then our starting position before the runaway and when to begin to walk.”

She looks at the others, “What? Did I switch to French?”

Another answers, “no just a wrong word. It’s runway like an airport, not run away like escaping something.”

“Pas grand chose. Runway ou runaway. Yu understand.”

They hug each other, “Yes we do.”

The girls go back to what they are doing while Tanner begins to explain everything to me and takes me out of the room and down to where Irina will do our makeup checks before allowing us to go on to the starting location. Tanner now leads me through the backstage maze and over to someone with a clipboard where he shows me the spot where I will wait to be given the cue to begin walking. Mister clip board will be sending me out onto the stage shortly after the previous girl has returned to it from the runway. Once out there it will be up to me to walk down the runway, pause for a few seconds with a full turn at about a third and at two thirds of the way then again at the end before walking back down the runway (without any turns) and off the stage to the other side.

Now we go around backstage to that side and proceed from there so I may find my way back to the room where someone will be in the room to help me out of the outfit if I should need assistance. That person will be helping each of us as we go.

“By the way, they said you took things off the rack, did you put them back exactly where you removed them? The order is important.”

“Yes. I still don’t know which item is to be worn first and which is next.”

“They should all be hanging in order. The assistant will tell you which is first.”

“Okay, scat Kat. There’s still a lot of time right now since the program doesn’t begin for...” he checks his watch, “nearly forty minutes but much of that time will be spent preparing for the whole thing. It will be pretty hectic once it gets underway and the assistant will be pushing time at you all. There isn’t any time for restroom breaks or a drink of water or anything else until after this is all over. Figure about twenty minutes off stage max. Nearly all of that will be involved with checking the fit of the outfit, and doing your makeup plus walking from point A to point B. It will all go faster than you expect.” Usually the show goes for about two hours. You okay now?”

“I hope so.”

“You’ll do fine. Just be yourself and everyone will love you. Oh? How did you convince them English wasn’t your forte?”

“They jumped to that conclusion when I was taking a little time trying to understand them. Then they started pushing French or Spanish at me so I said ‘I speak Dutch’ in Dutch.”

“You’re lucky none of them did.”

You’re telling me?”

“You better keep your lessons up.”

“I intend to. It hasn’t been all that hard so far.”

Tanner knocks on the door and one of the girls says “come in” as Tanner acts like he is finishing a sentence, “...and that brings us right back here, Katrina.”

“Dank u wel.”

“You’re welcome. Take good care of her, girls. Ah, hi Sam. These four are your group?”

“Hi Tanner. Yep, I’ve got this group under my wing all three days.”

“Great. Katrina here is a bit new at this. Most of what she has done has been private or single model showings and a lot of static stuff so kind of keep her guided.”

“Sure thing. Is she the one I heard about from Ellen’s shoot yesterday? Pendercot is still babbling about her.”

“She’s the one, but he’s a bit over the top, if you know what I mean.”

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah. Get something right twice in a row and he thinks you’re a pro.”

“Come on, Samantha. Don’t discourage Kat before she’s started.”

“Wouldn’t think of it. Take care of yourself Tanner. You may come claim your little Dutch beauty in a few hours. Now beat it. Go out front and annoy Carl.”

“Carlotta? Is she here today?”

“Oh yeah. Half this collection is her stuff so she’ll be screaming and pulling everyone’s hair out today. Except for the models of course.”

“Tell Kat to watch out for her and why.”

“Gotcha.”

“See you, Sam.”

“Right, catch you later Tanner.”

She didn’t need to tell me, one of the other models did. That’s all I need for three days... a female Emerson.

I was thankful for one thing during the showings today. The house lights were up enough that I could easily see the runway as well as many of the people who were listening to the description of the clothing as we were modeling the various pieces. No one seemed to be aware of my inexperience and nothing was said of it. I hope Pendercot feels he is getting his money’s worth. Occasionally a flash would go off and I saw Tanner take at least two of me in each outfit although girl number four is also one of his and he shot at least two of her each time she was out there.

When I stop to think about it, we have had very little time to change and to have our makeup checked. Each girl is out for about a minute and a half. Couple that with the half minute gap as the girls cross the stage and pose for just a few seconds before beginning the runway and you have about two minutes in the public eye. With sixteen of us altogether that allows me about twenty minutes to change including walking time to depart the stage area and to return to the starting location once again. Rush, Rush. By the time I finish the seventh outfit I am exhausted. I don’t know how they do it. The girls who are sharing the room with me are calm, cool and collected. I’m a nervous wreck by the time I am in my own clothing and Tanner collects me.

He talks with his other girls for a bit and then two of us and Tanner make our way to the convention floor to where the static displays are located. There is a lot more to these shows than just the runway showings. We find Ellen’s booth and Tanner drops me off saying he will return soon. He and the other girl are off to somewhere else.

There in the booth I begin shaking. I don’t know what ever possessed me to think I could do this for a day much less two years. I don’t understand why this seemed so... so... hectic. I’ve seen the news where they show some of the European shows and they seemed so sedate in comparison.

“Schatzi. You were wonderful.” I looked up as I heard Irina’s voice. I didn’t realise he had arrived, trust Irina to always say something positive.

to be continued

Long ago, and oh so far away

A few moments later, Ellen has come over and She and Irina begin speaking. She has a plan... Of course she has a plan. I seriously doubt she intends to pay me money to just sit here. She has some clothing items tucked away and a small (make that very small) changing area for me where I may put on the outfit she has for me to model.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

This will be done in several stages. The first will be a mock photo shoot right here at the booth, which will probably last all of fifteen minutes and then Tanner will follow (or lead) me around the convention floor snapping shots of me as I walk or pose as we go. All I need do is tell anyone who asks that this is one of Ellen’s creations and more may be seen at booth eighty-one. Sounds simple to me. Tanner has some business cards which he will hand out to promote his own business.

The whole time on the floor only takes us about thirty minutes on top of the time at the booth and then I change back. We did another mock photo shoot with me modeling when we returned to the booth before I did my change. We will return again later this afternoon and do a repeat performance then we are finished for the day. Each of the next two days will be a repeat of today except for the dinner tomorrow night. I remind Tanner to ask about that gown and the possibility of my ‘borrowing’ it for the European trip. If, of course, I promote her creations during dinners when I’m not promoting those belonging to Emerson.

“Perhaps we may use a little of the money I am earning and go out to dinner this evening and I may wear that gown if you are able to secure it for me. We could possibly promote her creations and hand out some of her cards at a place right around here where we may attract the attention of some of the buyers.”

“I know just the place. Wait here while I go talk with her.”

I don’t know what he told her but she returns bubbling with enthusiasm.

“Thank you my dear. I would love for you to wear my gown out. I’ll have it brought back here this afternoon. You may wear it this evening. Tanner has told me where you will be going... and I think the opportunity is too good to pass up. Oh, I see... A surprise.” With a note in her voice intimating that he is attempting to woo me. I give him a look which manages to convey that I am neither interested nor amused and make a point of discretely flashing my wedding bands in the hopes she notices.

I did notice Tanner shaking his head as she was speaking, apparently trying to prevent her from giving away the dining location. Except for the opportunity to wear that gown once again, and knowing Tanner and his ‘surprises’ of these past few days, I’m beginning to think this whole idea might just be a big mistake.

We depart the Convention Center and head back to the studio stopping for a bite to eat on the way. More rabbit food... Actually I’m beginning to realise it isn’t all that bad and this time I have more vegetables and no meat. I can feel my arteries clearing even as I think about it. When we arrive at the studio he sits me down to study more Dutch having told me to take that blasted course everywhere I go so I may make the most of every opportunity. Actually I suppose it isn’t that bad and I am learning (at least I think I am). I suppose I’ll never have the opportunity to actually find out but there I am anyway. He, of course, is playing with his photographs and the main computer. After about an hour he calls me over and I happily take a break from my studies.

“Yes?”

He gets up from the chair before the screen and motions for me to sit, “I want to show you your port once again. It’s growing with leaps and bounds.”

We go through it with Irina looking over our shoulders and I must admit, even with only a few shoots under my belt, it is beginning to look fairly decent having seen some belonging to the other girls.

“I’ll continue changing it, gradually weeding out the creative content and putting in more real shoots. Some of it will always remain as your agency photos and there will be a list of more and more clients as you add them. Shows and Locations, too. A few in Europe will add a lot of prestige to your port and we may even gain a few European clients who come to the States once in a while. For the more important ones, we may even go to European locations for the shoots such as for Emerson.”

“Remember you promised never to leave me alone with anyone over there... or over here for that matter.”

“Don’t worry Sis. I’ll go over prepared for battle.”

“Uh huh. And while you rot in prison how do I keep away from Mr. Hungry Eyes? He’s the first time I’ve ever been undressed by someone without them touching me.”

“And you had other times when someone touched you to undress you? Here and it was I thought you were a proper young lady and all.”

“My Mom, when I was a very young gir... I mean, child.” Admonishing myself as I’m getting far too deep into this role.

“Maybe you could consider me to be your Daddy.”

He knows something is very wrong when I get a very frightened look and then scowl followed by tears and I run to the rest room where I lock myself in.

“Katrina? Katrina. Kat, I’m sorry. Kat? Please open the door, honey. You know me, I always put my foot in my mouth.”

“Go away.”

Katrina? Come on sweetheart, open the door. I’m sorry for the ‘Daddy’ crack.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Come on Kat, or I’ll get the key and open the door.”

“You do and I’m out of here.”

“I think that’s the idea.”

“I mean, I’m gone. I’ll go home and I won’t be back.”

Which is beginning to sound more and more like a good idea to me as I give it more thought. This whole thing has gone entirely too far. What the hell am I doing dressed as a female and this whole masquerade and everything? I’m a guy. I don’t need this shit. I’ve got to have earned a couple of thousand by now so I could go back to my apartment and be okay for a few months while I look for work. Work which doesn’t entail me being a female or putting up with leeches like Emerson or Carlotta... Or Tanner for that matter, although he hasn’t really been a leech so much as a jokester.

I open the door and walk out, “Tanner, I want my money.”

“You what?”

“I want my money. I’m leaving.”

“Wait a minute. What do you mean, ‘you’re leaving’.”

“What does it sound like? I’m gone. I’m out of here. I’m not going to be a girl anymore. This was a stupid idea and I was crazy to go along with it.”

I begin to walk away and he grabs my arm, “What do you think...”

I slap his face with my free hand discovering it was almost hard enough to knock him down. He releases my arm and puts his hand up to his face in shock, “Why the hell did you do that? What’s weirded you out?” He thinks for a moment, “All I said was ‘maybe you could consider me to be your Daddy’.”

I slap him again, this time with the other hand and on the other side of his face.

He stands there looking at me like I’m crazy and then the wheels finally come around and he backs up a little, “Sorry. I take it that there is some bad history between you and your father. That was a bit thoughtless of me.”

The wheels continue turning and the look of shock is replaced by one of anger, “Did that bastard rape you?”

“None of your damn business, but NO he didn’t.”

“He beat you for looking like a girl. Kat, I’m sorry. Then what do I do but make you dress like a woman and start modeling. Sorry Kat, I didn’t think.”

“My name is MAC! Not Kat. And no you didn’t think, per usual.” I turn around facing away from him as the tears begin flowing in earnest.

Tanner walks up to me again and gently turns me around holding me close to him like a man would do with a woman. I’m so messed up I let him do it while I cry... like a woman. When I finally come around to that little revelation I’m angry again, this time at myself for acting like a woman. Then I think, why not? I’m dressed like one anyway. What the hell is the matter with me? Dad was probably right, ‘You’re queer, you’re a freak of nature and should’ve been put down when you were born’.

Irina goes and returns with another tissue box. I’m still crying.

Tan leads me over to the chair by the computer again and discretely bumps the screen back to the desktop so the pictures of me aren’t so obtrusive. He’s still treating me like a woman which is doing absolutely nothing to halt my tears. He finally gives up and just allows me to cry on his shirt as I lean over to him, while he holds me gently. I don’t know how long I cried. I cried for when I was little, I cried for when Daddy told me I was a freak, I cried for when my sister dressed me and I felt so pretty and happy just before she burst my bubble and I was later beaten for looking so good. I cried because I’m not a girl and because I’m not a boy either even though I’m XY. I cried because I’m an IT... Not really human but still almost looking that way.

I cried because of what the Reverend and Daddy said about me after church. And I cried because I couldn’t grow up pretty like my Sister or strong like my brother. I cried because I cried... ‘Stop that you little freak, boys don’t cry, you want another walloping? I give you something to cry about’.

I cried because he hit Mom, ‘You brought this freak into the world when I should have had a son. One of these days I’ll take him out and drown him like an unwanted litter of pups’.

I was wrong about Tanner. He isn’t heartless, just occasionally misguided. He did spend what seemed like a couple of hours just holding me and letting me cry much of it out. I wish my Dad could have been like that.

When my tears finally slow to a crawl rather than rushing over Niagra, I begin to return to my senses and realise that my future is heavily dependent upon me continuing this charade for two years. I don’t know how I will manage that but if I can’t then my future is screwed. Pardon me... What am I doing? I’m asking forgiveness for swearing in my thoughts? Well, yeah... I guess I should or maybe I might accidentally do it out loud while I’m dressed for this masquerade. At least I got out a little of the pain and Tanner and Irina didn’t make light of my sorrow.

Tanner still looks like he would like to meet up with Dad in a dark alley. I’m not certain I would stop him. At least most of Dad’s tirades were verbal rather than physical, although those times happened too. Sometimes I think verbal is far worse than physical. Verbal never goes away, it just lies there dormant waiting for the worst moment when it can come back at you and hit you ten times as hard as the last time which was ten times as hard as the time before. It makes you always wonder how things could have been if... Yeah, only if.

What if I had been born a girl... What if the sky was green and water was pink... what if, what if, what if ... What if I had taken the path I nearly started years ago, then none of this would have happened and I wouldn’t be around to care. What if, what if, what if.

I’m beginning to like being able to lean against Tanner and just be held. I wish Dad had done that for me. I wish Mom hadn’t been so afraid of Dad and she had told me how pretty I was and after a little while had me change back before Dad got home.

I wish Sis really could have accepted me as a little sister even if it was just for a day and we could have played together. I wish my brother had been more like me and we could have helped each other. No... that probably would have been enough for Dad to decide to drown us both.

It feels really comforting to be held like this. There’s a pile of tissues on the floor, I’ll bet I went through nearly the whole box. I also bet my make up looks something awful. I gently push away from Tanner and he allows me to move back a little. I see where I slapped him and reach up gently to touch his face, “I’m sorry.” I whisper.

“That’s okay. I had it coming.”

I shake my head, “No. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. The problems are all mine.”

I lean forward again putting both arms around him hugging him as I lean my head onto his shoulder, “Thank you Tanner. Thank you for caring.”

“I care about all my g... I mean, all my models.”

“Your girls.”

“Well, yeah. That’s what I was going to say.”

I kiss his cheek where I slapped it and left a red mark. He reaches up and holds it for a moment looking at me strangely before getting up, “I’ll get you a check and take you back to get your things.”

“We don’t have time for that. Don’t we need to be back at the fashion convention almost any minute?”

He looks at me like I’ve got two heads, “I thought you were quitting?”

“Woman’s prerogative. We are allowed to change our minds frequently, and to cry.”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Finally he mumbles something incoherent then looks at his watch, “Uh... yeah. We’ve got ten minutes so I guess we’ll be a little late. I hope you can change fast.”

“Once we’re there just watch me. I mean — no, don’t watch me but ... you know what I mean.”

Irina starts laughing and then Tanner and I do also as we rush out to try to make it in time for the afternoon runaway as the one girl called it. I’m beginning to think she has a better handle on it than anyone else.

We arrive fifteen minutes late but fortunately that means I still have twenty five minutes to get ready. Irina is doing the girl’s makeup, generally making minor repairs and I finally make it out only about five minutes late but still in plenty of time to take my place in the line up. The afternoon goes very much like the morning and after the runaway Tanner once again escorts the two of us to our respective client booths. I find a skirt suit in the changing area which I suppose is my afternoon fashion accessory and that gown is also hanging here. God, it’s scrumptious.

We do the modeling thing at the booth and then wander the floor once again finally returning to the booth. After we finish I whisper to Tanner that I’m, “going to put on the gown and spend a few minutes here at the booth before changing to leave the show. Don’t tell Ellen. Let me surprise her, please?”

He smiles and nods his head so I hurry away before he changes his mind. This is a little difficult with no one to fasten it for me and finally I attract Tanner’s attention motioning for him to come over. “Please fasten me. I hope Ellen didn’t see me.”

“She’s been busy. I don’t think she did.”

“Good. When I come out could we take some photos of me wearing this here at the booth before I change back. Oh.... I’ll need some help unfastening it when we’re done.”

“Sure thing. I’ll go get ready then when you come out I’ll just start shooting. Ellen might not notice for a minute or so. She’s pretty much tied up with a buyer out there.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out in just a minute, I need to put my hair up. Here could you hold the clips?”

He hangs onto the hair clips for me and then when I try to take a clip some of my hair falls down again. He puts the clips down and tells me to put the hair up and then he’ll hold it while I clip it in place. That works out much better.

“Okay, I’m ready.” as I check myself one last time in the mirror.

He winks, “Knock ‘em dead, Kat.” and goes out to get the camera ready.

I peek out a couple of times until I see he is ready and then go out to pose for a shot, slowly working my way in Ellen’s direction. Her back is to me but the buyer sees the outfit and stops talking which causes Ellen to turn around. By then I’m near the poster of me in the same outfit and Tanner takes a couple of shots with me next to it before we move on. Ellen smiles and takes a good look then turns back to the sales job she is pushing on the buyer who by now is talking again but glancing my way as often as possible. I try to make a show of presenting all around the edges of her assigned exhibit area and the booth and manage to attract a fair share of the people walking in the area. That of itself causes a small commotion and soon Ellen’s booth is surrounded with people trying to see what’s going on. Ellen and her crew are pretty busy and it isn’t until the next day I learn that they were essentially taking bids for the gown’s design allowing the purchaser the US rights at reproduction. She retains the European rights knowing that we will be modeling it at a number of dinners while in Europe.

The evening of this first day Tanner takes me out to dinner with Ellen footing the bill since I’m essentially modeling her gown at dinner and we hand out a couple of dozen cards both to buyers and to individuals ladies who are interested in having something unique created just for them.

Dinner, by the way, was wonderful. Nice crunchy vegetables well cooked but still solid enough not to be flavorless mush. An eight ounce very low fat steak for protein. A nice soup before the meal. One glass of wine which I nurse all through the meal not mentioning anything about being under age not even to Tanner who seems to have forgotten. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it, including our departure to his Beemer with me draped on his arm and placing my feet in a model’s walk which I’m sure attracted the attention of a number of red-blooded males who were waiting with their ladies to be seated in the restaurant. As I understand it, the only way one gets in to this place is by means of a reservation. No walk ins. I took a few minutes before we departed to go to the ladies room to touch up my lipstick. When I left there were more than a few envious glances. I’m really enjoying myself.

Tanner drives us home where I retire to my room to once again change. The gown is carefully inspected before going into the garment bag and hanging in my closet. I need to be able to give it back to Ellen without blemishes when all this is over. I make a mental note to ask her exactly how it may be cleaned and then after cleaning up and putting on my nightgown and robe I pull out my language lessons and start in once again. I wish Tanner hadn’t picked a Dutch name as the language makes me feel like I’m clearing my throat half the time. The good thing about it is that I am having very little difficulty with it and almost feel like it is a language I would have chosen for my own if I had been allowed to do so as a child.

Of course Dad would probably have found a reason to pick at me for that too. I don’t think there was one thing I ever did that made him happy, except maybe leaving home but he had to sign a court paper to allow me to make decisions for myself so even that made him angry... ‘why didn’t you ever have the decency to just go away and die somewhere’? What kind of a thing is that to say to your child?

If I had a little boy or girl for that matter, I would love them and hug them and tell them stories. Kiss them and tell them how much they are loved. In other words, everything which never happened for me. In fact, I don’t really remember anyone holding or hugging me for more than a second or two in all my life. Except Tanner maybe and that doesn’t really count. At least I don’t think it counts... well... maybe it counts. It was kind of nice even after I slapped him too. I spend a little more time thinking about that before getting up from the bed where I’m studying and going out in my nightgown and robe to find him. There I give him a hug for more than just a second or two, “Thanks Tanner,” I kiss his other cheek where I gave him the second slap earlier and then retreat back to my room and shut off the light going to bed.

Some time later I come awake as I hear my door open for a moment then close again and moments later I hear Tanner’s bedroom door close just like last night.

I go back to sleep and the nightmares leave me more or less alone for a second night in a row.

We meet Irina at the Show again, this time I have a clue and we four girls are basically gossiping about boyfriends or things we’ve seen in the US and abroad during our travels. Most of what I talk about is stuff I’ve seen on the tube since I really haven’t been anywhere, but I make it out that I visited there and whenever one of them asked if I saw ‘such and such’ I simply say that I didn’t have much time to see anything and was simply in and out so fast I barely knew I was there. I mean, some things you just can’t miss like the Empire State building but in general I didn’t have the time to be a tourist. That reminds me, I need to ask Tanner to help me pick a nice simple digital camera and notebook computer so I may take pictures like any other tourist and save them for printing later when we return home. Thinking about that I realise it won’t take much to make me the most traveled member of the family. That happy thought suddenly gives way to the one where the moment Dad sees me, he kills me. Well, maybe I won’t tell them and they’ll just have to suffer without me. If they even notice I’m gone.

We finish the morning catwalk (sic) and move on to Ellen’s booth where after I’ve changed to the outfit she selected for this morning’s activities, I learn of the productive bidding for the gown’s design. When I sadly ask if she needs me to return the gown so she may give it to the high bidder, I learn that Ellen has not allowed the gown itself to be a part of the package... she gives the original to me. That causes my emotions to fly in the face of the show and I hide in the changing booth to cry happy tears for a while. I don’t know why my emotions are doing this. It’s not like I have hormones to blame it on. Tanner calls in Irina to fix my face again.

“Schatzi, we simply must stop meeting this way. Or perhaps I should order twice as many of your colours.”

I give him a soft slap on the arm.

“Oh right,” Tanner quips, “You cuff him gently and slap me so hard it almost knocks me down. I think I’m offended.”

I look at him with a saucy grin then go over and plant a soft kiss on his cheek just like last night, “there, am I forgiven?”

“How about one for the other slap and we’ll call it even.”

I give him a look like I’m considering giving him another slap then reach up throwing my arms around his neck as I stand on my toes while he flinches at the movement of my arms then I give him a short gentle kiss on his lips before backing off again in time to see the most dumbfounded expression on his face. He just stands there for a few seconds as I look at him from the corner of my eye trying to decide what I did to him. He looks like he isn’t certain if he’s embarrassed, liked it, wants to run or some combination of the above selections. I raise my eyebrow which is nearest him still looking at him from the corners of my eyes then glance at Irina who looks like the cat that ate the canary. My eyes are going back and forth between them like they’ve both suddenly gone mad or something. Finally Irina laughs and Tanner turns scarlet.

“Good for you, Schatzi.”

Tanner turns away and begins to do something with his camera without saying anything. In case I didn’t mention it before, as you know I am tall, and in heels I top six feet. Tanner has a good six inches on that and he is built well. The only reason he doesn’t have a girl friend is because he spends all his time with his business. He’s still fiddling with his camera when I walk around in front of him, look him in the face and kiss him again. This time he turns scarlet immediately and begin sputtering, “Kat... You... I... Geez... Kat?”

I smile at him and take his arm then begin to lead him out of the booth so we may do the tour of the convention floor to attract business for Ellen.

“You... I... Wait! I need to change the battery in the camera.”

Wow, a whole sentence.

As he deals with the camera, I’m looking at the wedding and engagement bands on my finger. “Tanner? Do you think Emerson would still leave me alone if I just wore an engagement band?”

“I guess so. But they come as a set.”

“I know. I was just wondering if maybe you wouldn’t mind if all I wear is the engagement band?”

He still hasn’t made the connection and I’m not about to tell him. I just think it would be a lot better if Emerson thought Tanner was my boyfriend and we were engaged than if I was married to some nameless spouse at some undisclosed distant location. I remove the wedding band and look at my finger where the engagement band now sparkles even brighter, at least in my mind’s eye. I like it. If I was a girl, I’d like it a lot.

“Tanner?”

He looks at me, “Yeah?” Just finishing changing the battery and ready to go on with the assignment.

I hold up my hand and wiggle my finger at him showing him the engagement band.

“If we were engaged don’t you think Emerson would leave me alone more than if I was married to a distant faceless somebody?”

He thinks about that, “Yeah. He probably would. Why do you ask... You’re kidding.”

I shake my head no.

He stands up straight if he wasn’t before and gets this strange look on his face before looking down at me in consideration. “You’re kidding?”

“Not really. It was something which I just realised and wondered if you would mind... just for the trip and the shoots with him that is. It would also explain why you would be very protective of me.”

“It might work. In fact, it might work out pretty well. It would explain why we spend so much time together and it would seem to be a normal thing for two people who are engaged. It would also help keep the other wolves away from you since your ‘boyfriend’ is with you. Yeah, it might work out just fine. You don’t mind?”

I answer him by standing on my toes and giving him another quick kiss.

“I can see we will need to spend a little time in practice so you know how to give a proper kiss though.”

Now I pull back from him and my face blushes. This may not work out quite like I was expecting. I manage to bring my hand up between us and show him the engagement band on my finger. Now I return the wedding band to him and give him a sly provocative glance out of the corner of my eye. That was a mistake, a big mistake.

When we come up for air, I’m limp. I don’t know if he meant it or if it was just for show but right now I don’t want to find out.

“Ummm, Tanner? I think we better be going around and doing that which Ellen is paying us to do.”

“Okay with me, Kat. One for the road?”

I turn away and begin to walk down past the booths leaving him to catch up and take more photos for Ellen. As he passes me to take some from the front, “Did anyone ever tell you the way you walk is provocative?”

“Yes as a matter of fact.”

Hurt he asks, “Who?”

“Emerson.”

“I’m wounded. You would compare your fiancee to Emerson?”

“Only when my fiancee makes lewd suggestions.”

“I thought the way you are walking was the lewd suggestion.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking pictures?”

to be continued

The show must go on

Tanner and I make our way around the floor and he does manage to snap some pics here and there before we return to Ellen’s booth where we take a few more shots using the equipment so the strobes light up the area which hopefully attract even more attention. When the number of people has increased a bit I go in and change back to my own clothing then we leave to find Irina and go to lunch.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Again, I had a small steak for the protein. A nice green salad with red cabbage added and a vinegar mix of some kind which made the whole thing quite tasty. I thoroughly enjoyed the meal and Tanner seemed to once again treat me quite differently. I don’t know just how. He seemed more solicitous and kind toward me. I notice he is more careful about opening doors for me and of handling my chair when seating. I don’t know... It’s almost like he is thinking of me as though I’m really a woman and we are really engaged. It’s kind of nice in a scary sort of way.

I notice he has held my hand a lot more in the past hour or two than he has in the entire time we have been together previously. It’s nice but I hope he remembers I’m a guy. Then again, I’ve got the shape... I wonder how difficult it would be to become one of those... what do they call them? Transgendered? As I asked before am I a T-Girl? Then again, I’m not certain what that really means so I’m running blind here.

Then there’s Dad. Hell, Dad had enough difficulty with me just looking a bit like a girl... if I became one he would really go off the deep end about it. I could picture him talking to the Pastor and the Pastor devoting three or four sermons to the topic, probably damning me to an eternity of hellfire and brimstone if he hasn’t already. Dad, of course, would take his cue from the Pastor and throw his own version of hellfire and brimstone at me. The Salem trials would have nothing on Dad’s treatment of me.

I’ve been trying so hard to be a guy and I took on this two year thing to try to earn the money so I can become a guy but... What if I’m supposed to be a girl? Has everything I’ve been trying to do been a lie? Hell, I’ve got the shape, I’ve got the voice, other than being tall I’m like a willow... slender and light. I let my hair grow and that’s part of what makes me look so effeminate but getting it cut won’t change how I look. In fact if I didn’t have the chromes of a male and the added equipment down below I could probably wear a bikini and get away with everyone thinking I’m a girl. Hell, I already am getting away with it. Randy old goats like Emerson even get the hots for me. Shit. I AM a freak.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

“Tanner, you don’t even want to know.”

“I suspect they haven’t been all that good.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“The tears rolling down your face.”

I grab the napkin and wipe my face taking some of the makeup with the tears. Great. Now I need to go to the ladies room to try to fix it.

“Schatzi. Go wash off your face and Irina will fix it for you when we go out to the cars.”

“Kat, you know if you need to talk about this...”

“I know. The two of you have been very kind. My problems have never really been allowed to surface so much before.”

“We’re both good listeners and who knows, we might be able to help. My big Sis would probably like to help too if you would let her. She’s a pretty astute cookie.”

“Unless she can magically make me one or the other I don’t know what she could do.”

Tanner pauses for a moment to try to decide what I meant before he continues, “You might be surprised. Big Sis is pretty up on things like this. She’s been involved in a couple of cases which got pretty hairy from what little she said. It wouldn’t hurt just to talk. Girl to girl not Katrina or Mac to a judge.”

“I’ll think about it, Tan. I’ll really think about it.”

“She wants to see you again you know. There’s still the matter of the other papers so she will need to talk with you after she receives the doctors’ reports.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“My fiancee doesn’t say ‘yeah’. She’s more refined than that.”

“Up yours, Tanner.”

In mock astonishment, “Katrina, I’m shocked.”

I shake my head, “All right then... Please place an inappropriate item deeply into the most inappropriate location of your body... is that refined enough?”

Tanner and Irina are both laughing.

“I can just picture you as a blue-blood saying something like that, Katrina.”

I’m barely holding onto it at this point and finally begin laughing too. I put my hand on Tanner’s and tell him, “I’m going to the ladies room to cleanse my face. I’ll be back as quickly as I’m able,” and give him a wink before getting up to which he does also then sits again as I walk away.

I hear Irina, “I guess she told you. Didn’t she?”

“Yep. And I’ve got to just sit and take it because she’s my fiancee.”

A chill goes down my spine with that comment and I am beginning to think I really need to talk with his sister. Oh God, If I become a girl and we get married then his Sister will be my sister in law.

I don’t know which would be worse, my Dad or having a judge as my sister in law.

I manage to clean most of my face. It’s a bit difficult with nothing but liquid hand soap and paper towels to use but somehow I did manage. Then the panic begins to settle in... What if she thinks I’m really a girl? Similar visions to those I had the other day with the deputies begin to cross my mind when I suddenly remember she knows because she signed the name change paperwork. That’s almost a relief. My childhood has me so gun shy regarding this that I’m afraid of the slightest comment which could be construed as negative. Except — now I’m not exactly certain what negative happens to be.

The next dark thought is what does she think about it? I mean it’s one thing to understand this sort of thing and something else again to accept it as actually afflicting someone whom you care about, such as her brother.

I don’t have a choice as I’ve got to see her again whenever the doctors give her their reports. God... Where do I go from here? This whole thing is so... Dad has really messed with my mind. He couldn’t see past that little hunk of meat attached to me. Then again neither could or can I. My chromes are XY and that means male. So what happened to me?

“Are you Katrina?”

Someone I’ve never seen before is standing there asking me my name,
“Yes. Do I know you?”

“No. There’s two men outside, one says he’s your fiancee and wanted me to check on you. They’re ready to go back to some kind of convention and wanted you to know it’s time to go.”

“Oh. Thank you. I guess I lost track of the time.” I check my little watch as I smile at her.

“No problem.”

I exit the ladies room and sure enough Tanner and Irina are waiting.

“We were beginning to think you died in there.”

“That would probably solve a lot of things but, sorry, no such luck.”

“Good. I’m beginning to like being engaged. It would bother me if I was so repulsive that my girl friend fainted dead on me.”

“Well, I don’t know. You can be pretty hard to take.”

“Oi. You wound me, Mademoiselle.”

“Don’t give me a knife. Oh that reminds me... Where is this dinner we are attending this evening?”

“It’s back at the Hotel’s center. You go do your thing on the runway same as this morning and then collect the outfit you’re going to be wearing this evening from Sam right after the show or after you finish at Ellen’s. We do our thing for Ellen and then go home where you and I can get ready since I’m your escort for the evening. The dinner arrival time begins at six and goes to six thirty. Then we will have the dinner and afterward we mingle for an hour or so to show off the outfit you are wearing. It’s pretty much an easy evening. Not like last night.”

“Last night was fun.”

“This will be a little dryer. This whole show is more about the publicity to launch the new lines than it is to attract new buyers. Most of the buyers are already sewn up so it’s the public who need to be informed. There are some, such as Ellen, who generally are private producers for the ‘rich and famous’ and who for whatever reason have unsold designs which they are willing to let go to the chain producers. The exposure in the show sells their products and if the news hound fashion reporters really like something then it gets a mention in the trade papers.”

I begin wondering what it is I will be given to wear for the evening. I hope it’s decent.

We arrive back at the convention center and I report to my room. Sam is there but I’m the first model to return from lunch.

“You’re early.”

“By the time we finished lunch we didn’t have enough time to do much else so we came back here.”

“I wanted to complement you on your English. You do quite well for it being a second language.”

“Where I’m from we used English quite a lot as well...”

“That explains it. Sometimes an accent drifts into it. It’s almost as though you learned your English in England and then Americanized it. Since we have a little time would you like to take a look at the gown you will be wearing this evening? It’s a regular gown so I guess Pendercot feels you can pull it off.”

She takes a long gown down from another rack and allows me to hold it in front of myself to get an idea of how it will look.

“There are shoes too. Size five and a half with three inch heels. At least you won’t be doing any dancing tonight so it won’t be too bad.”

“The gown is beautiful.”

“I think you will make it look even better, Katrina. That’s probably why Pendercot selected you to wear it. This one was designed by Carlotta so she will be seated next to you at the dinner.”

“I thought Tanner would be sitting with me.”

“Oh he will. But so will Carlotta. Don’t worry, honey. She usually behaves herself at the dinners.”

She hangs the gown up again and I begin to change to my first outfit for the afternoon run. Soon the other girls are here and we are all getting ready. I go out for my makeup session since my makeup was destroyed at lunch and went unrepaired until now. Irina finishes my cleanup then makes me up new before he continues to take care of the other girls in their order of appearance. It isn’t that long and things are under way once again. Two hours later it’s all over once more and Tanner, Laurel and I are on our way to the showroom floor where once again I am discarded at Ellen’s booth and Tanner escorts Laurel to her working location. By the time he returns I have changed to the outfit Ellen wants me to model this afternoon. He checks on his camera and then on me and we begin the whole game once again.

When we finish, we go back to collect my gown from Sam, along with the shoes. She gets the gown down from the rack and I ask if we could show it to Tanner so we carefully take it out of the garment case. I hold it up before me and something doesn’t seem right. I mention it to Sam and the gown is carefully inspected. We find a torn seam which looks like someone tried on the gown but it didn’t fit and tore the seam. That’s a bit of a discouragement. Sam calls Carlotta who shows up ranting and raving. She tears into me like it’s all my fault. It takes the three of us to convince her that I didn’t do it. The person who caused the problem is just a little larger than am I. After all I do have a very small waist.

Carl calms a bit and a seamstress is quickly called in. Meanwhile I have checked the shoes and found they are still okay. The Seamstress has me put on the gown so she may repair it to my measurements and soon it is ready to be mended. I need to return here to collect it just before the dinner. Nothing is ever simple.

Tan takes several photos of me in the gown while the seamstress is working on it. His argument is that Irina will need the photos so he may do my makeup prior to returning here to collect the gown. The gown comes off and I return to my own clothes and we are out of here to return at a little before six so we may make the dinner about six fifteen.

Carlotta still isn’t convinced I didn’t do the dirty deed until the seamstress tells her that my waist is so small that I could have put on the gown and it would have been huge on me. As proof she shows how much material she may take in and still have it fit me. Carlotta still wants blood but now it’s not mine. She seems driven so if she ever figures it out someone is likely to suffer. It could have been anyone. The other girls from this room are unlikely to have done it so it must have occurred when Sam wasn’t in the room and neither was anyone else. That puts it to some time after the runs and before Tan and I returned to find Sam and go to collect the gown. If I hadn’t wanted to show it to Tanner we would not have discovered it in time to repair it. The window was about an hour so anything was possible. The other girls had already taken their gowns and shoes and were gone. A mystery which is unlikely to be solved.

Because of the fitting, we have only an hour and a half before we need to be back so I may change. This upsets our schedule a bit. Tanner needs to change to a tux and I need to be made up by Irina who will also be doing four other girls. Whoever thought modeling was easy never tried it.

Irina decides to remain at the show while Tanner and I go back to his place so he may change to the tux. Fifteen minutes later he comes out of his room, “Ta da.”

I look at this handsome man and wonder why I couldn’t have been born that way. That’s something I’ve wondered and worried about all my life. I remember as a child... well... as a younger child, thinking about this so many, many times and wishing I could take a magic pill to suddenly become this hunk from which all the bullies would stay away because they didn’t want to be pounded into the ground rather that the other way around which was how it normally went.

I walk over to check him out and spend a minute adjusting his cravat for him. Now we are on our way back to the show. The fitting certainly went a long way toward preventing us from doing anything meaningful with our time because I need to be back to get into the gown. At least that goes well this time. The seamstress had her hands full since she had to also tear the seam on the other side, which wasn’t damaged, then take both of them in to make the gown fit properly. She still gave me a little room and the gown looks very nice although my waist looks extremely tiny since the gown was designed to downplay a woman’s waist. Now my mind goes a bit silly as I wonder if I had been born female with this waist, would it change much after I gave birth to my first child? That’s something I would never find out about, not that it matters. I’m on the other end of the child generating chain.

Now I begin to giggle almost uncontrollably. Here I am. I’m thinking about children and my role in creating them as a male while looking at myself in an evening gown with my face made up and my hair done, polish on my fingernails, high heels on my feet and a very decidedly feminine figure. Talk about juxtaposition. I probably would have spent the entire evening standing here lost in my thoughts if it hadn’t been for Tanner coming in and taking me out to go to the dinner. I ask if Irina’s coming and Tanner looks at me funny then shakes his head, “No. And I wouldn’t likely have been here either except it was one of the conditions of your contract which the client approved, that I be present with you at all dinners or special functions.”

“Then who would have escorted me?”

“Some hired hunk who would provide the appropriate eye candy to be seen with you. Or perhaps one of the designers or muckity mucks from the company. You’ll see Laural on Pendercot’s arm this evening.”

He was right, I did. I look around the room at all the shakers and bakers from the industry and notice Emerson across the room with some young (read that very young) thing attached to his arm. I turn my back not so much so he may see the flesh of my back but so he will not recognise me. I should have had Tanner lose about a foot or two since Emerson recognised the semaphore standing next to me and surmised the woman standing next to him would be me.

He and his unfortunate victim come over and as he stands next to me injecting his voice into the conversation, his unattached hand is locating and caressing my back. My face must have reflected my disgust. Tanner draws me away from the womanizer so it and I are facing one another and the wandering hand cannot touch me without being blatantly obvious, not that I think Emerson would stop being a disgusting pig. As they say, one must be true to their nature and his is rutting. That thought causes me to ‘tune out’ once again as I begin to examine my own ‘nature’ trying to decide if in doing this whole girl thing I am being true to my own.

That’s an interesting quandary and I’m into investigating it when Tanner pulls me back to reality, “Say good-bye to the nice man, Katrina.”

“Goedenavond,” I manage to get out with just a hint of revulsion in my voice. Yeah right... just a hint. Got a brick or maybe a cattle prod?

“I’m sure.” Emerson replies.

Tanner leads me away before I attack Emerson and we lose the European contract due to the death of the client at the hands of a model. After we are twenty or so paces away Tanner leans to me and whispers, “Be nice. He’s the one who is going to pay us a lot of nice money.”

“If he survives the trip.” I whisper back, “Be certain to get most of it in an advance.”

“Now, now, Kat. I’ve only just gained my girlfriend. I don’t want to lose her in some foreign country because she takes out a contract on the employer.”

“Where, exactly, would we go in St. Petersburg to find someone to do that?”

Tanner looks at me not quite certain I don’t mean it, “Ouch. Would you really do that?”

I look back at Emerson who is smiling and walking toward another table, lucky for him, “In a heartbeat.”

Tanner seats me and soon we are joined by the female version of Emerson. At least she doesn’t run her hand up and down my back like he did, but the verbal hints are there all the same. I’m beginning to wonder just how many there are in this industry who are like these two.

to be continued

I long to wake up in the morning and find everything has changed

When Tanner said this evening would be ‘a little dryer’ he certainly was not speaking of the liqueurs. “I don’t believe I’ve seen so many soused people at one gathering before. It’s a wonder they accomplish anything at this dinner.”

“Basically they don’t, Kat.”

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

A quick note to the readers. There are two chapters included in this post. Read them sparingly as I shall not be posting the next chapter until next year. Happy Holidays everyone! I’ve got to go catch a plane.

“This whole event makes me think it was started by Emerson as an excuse for him to fondle the models and select which ones he intends to take to bed with him.”

“There is that. Even Emerson can’t handle too many.”

“I can see that.”

“What? Where?”

“Over there.” I point across the room, “Aren’t some of those your girls?”

“Damn. Yes. Come on we need to go rescue them.”

We manage to pry three of Tanner’s girls from Emerson’s clutches which really doesn’t appreciably affect his entourage. He must have a high opinion of himself as he is hanging on to over a half dozen more.

The tall Blond asks, “Tanner, do we need to leave now? What’s this job you told ‘Emmy’ about?”

“It was something we made up on the spot to get you three away from that randy old goat.” I add to the conversation.

Again from the Blond, “What? I’m going back. He promised he would make us famous.”

“Infamous is more like it. Which would you rather have, a job and agent such as Tanner who cares enough about you to save you from someone like Emerson; or would you rather be pregnant and on the streets?”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. The other two are just standing there — barely.

“Tanner why don’t you say something? Tell her about Emerson.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

“You’re making this up.” the tall blond who is still capable of nearly coherent thought and speech says to me.

“Then go on back and learn for yourself. I’m certain Tanner will hang onto your contract so after your stretch marks are gone you may come back to model.”

“You’re crazy. I want to be more than just a model. I’m going back.”

“Suit yourself. Do you have anything to say Tanner?”

“Nope. If she wants out of her contract with me all she has to do is say so and I’ll tear it up.”

“Then please do so. I’m going to be famous.”

“Okay, Pam. Sorry to see you go but your contract with me is now null and void. I’ll find someone to take your place for the show tomorrow and good luck to you.”

“You’ll need it.” I add as she turns and walks back into the fray.

Tanner turns to the other girls, “You two feel the same way?”

“I thing I go’ng be sick.” The Brunette proceeds to make good on her statement.

The other, another Blond just latches onto Tanner’s arm and drunkenly tells us, “I o’ly ‘ad one drink. Do why I fee this like?”

Tanner looks back at her, “Uh huh. One drink, huh?”

She nods and practically passes out.

“Tanner, you don’t suppose someone put something in their drinks?”

“Possibly. It’s happened before but I’ve never had it happen to my girls. Let’s get them somewhere safe and let them sleep it off. Tomorrow morning will tell us a lot.”

We clean up the Brunette after we get back to the car giving her a sip of bottled water, which she promptly leaves on the parking lot. Something isn’t right but who knows, she may have had a few too many. The Blond, though, claims she had only one drink so we will need to watch her.

We manage, somehow, to get the two back to Tanner’s place, out of their restrictive clothing and into beds in the spare rooms to sleep off their presumed alcohol induced inebriation. I change into something comfortable and retire to study ‘my primary language’ once again.

Tanner goes to his home office for a bit then comes back and knocks at my door, “Kat? Would you check on my girls for a minute? I don’t think I should be going into their rooms since they might be... er... indisposed a bit.”

I don’t give it a thought and just go check on them pulling the covers back up on the Blond who is out like a light. Yes she’s still breathing.

The Brunette is a bit of a worry though. I ask Tanner to come back into the room and we check her pulse which is there but I’m worried.

“If someone gets too much of whatever sometimes goes around at these dinners or parties what can it do to them?”

“I haven’t the faintest. My girls are a part of my livelihood so I wouldn’t do anything to them because it affects me too. I think we better get her to a hospital.”

“I think we better get them both to a hospital just to be safe. I’m getting dressed. You watch her.”

I ignore makeup and just put on something easy like a blouse and levis, then grab my purse. We bundle each of the girls into a comforter and get them out to the car then Tanner drives us to an emergency room, going in for help while I watch the girls.

I can just picture Tanner and I raising a family and the times we will be bringing our children to the hospital or the doctor and the worry of it. Wait a minute, what am I thinking? I don’t even want to go there right now.

The girls are taken into emergency and tests begin on them. Turns out the Brunette was given several different things all of which acted in concert to really rough her over. The little Blond basically was given the date rape drug, presumably in her one drink. Emerson couldn’t have made it around to spike everyone’s drinks so the drugs must have been in the bottles of wine. Luck of the draw is the only reason two of Tanner’s girls got it. If the one had a mix of volatile cocktails then presumably other models also happened to receive various mixes. The emergency room personnel tell us the police must be notified and Tanner suggests that he also would like a copy of the report. Once the police show up we waste no time telling them to check the empty bottles from the dinner at the convention center and to follow up on the girls taken back to Emerson’s and a few of the other muckity muck’s hotels.

“You may find a number of them to have been similarly drugged.”

Tanner is fit to be tied and the police are wondering if we did it until the little blond wakes up for a bit and tells them Tanner is the good guy and her one drink was poured by those serving the wines. This is going to be a very interesting situation and it serves to caution me against accepting drinks from anyone except Tanner once we are in Europe. Not that I’ll be drinking but, he said some wine will be present with the meals.

“I hope you already have people at the convention center before all the evidence is gone. I don’t take kindly to people trying to do this to my girls.”

Once again that causes a bit of confusion until the police figure out the girls are employed as models by Tanner’s agency. I’m really sleepy since I’ve been up all day and now half the night. Tanner and I nap in the waiting room for word on the Brunette who is not in very good shape. Well... I guess her shape is okay but her health at the moment is pretty poor.

We manage about four hours of sleep between us and check on the Brunette again. They are far more optimistic now and she will be going up to another room for a couple of days. The billings will be handled through Tanner’s medical insurance. All his girls are on the insurance. That’s one of the benefits we receive working for Tanner. The little Blond is released and was held only because of the drug in her system and for short term observation. We bundle her back into the comforter and take her back to Tanner’s where she may dress in the clothes of the evening prior and I change to something so I may go to work. We return her to her own home so she may change since she feels up to modeling again today although still a bit disoriented. Tan calls around until he has two more girls to fill in for today and then he, the Blond and I drive to the convention center to continue the show.

At the Hotel’s convention center rumors are running rampant and we ‘learn’ that a few of the men also had been drugged. I suppose that sort of thing can happen when the drug is in the bottles rather than particular glasses. The point of all this escapes us since drugging the men doesn’t make much sense if having sex with the female models was the object of the exercise. Perhaps whoever was behind it simply wanted to cause confusion. If so then they definitely succeeded. It isn’t as if this was some kind of celebrity gathering and we were all millionaires who could be held for ransom. Then too, less than half the people drank alcoholic beverages at all so the whole thing seems very odd. It seems more like some juvenile kind of prank which got out of hand rather than something which was logically planned out and executed.

This last day of the show the police continue to have a presence and the number of people who are missing is low, perhaps under ten percent which would tend to indicate about a fifth or less of the people at the dinner were affected. Still, it is a bit unnerving and the police waste considerable time trying to learn if people are well but just ‘under the weather’ from the effects.

Four others who were as badly drugged as was Tanner’s Brunette have turned up, three of them made it to hospitals and one was ill in her hotel suite. For two it was nip and tuck but fortunately there were no deaths. Still it was not a good thing but served to make me far more observant of things going on at group gatherings. Hell, it could happen at a one on one gathering.

I’m really lucky that Tanner is the one for whom I went to work. His reputation in the industry is Sterling, both for his photographic talents as well as his treatment of ‘his’ girls. He takes a slightly larger percentage of the girl’s earnings as his commission, or so I’ve heard, but he also purchases things they need out of business funds when those items are necessary to a shoot or work in general, so I suppose it balances out.

A few of the girls have him controlling their investment funds and he is very careful about those. He’s been in this business for five or six years and has never been involved or even hinted at having been improper in his care for their funds. I tried to give him most of the funds which remained after my shopping and he told me to put them into a savings account. He doesn’t want me trying to invest more than twenty percent of my funds into the slightly more risky ventures which are uninsured but have higher yields. That’s the same advice his gives to all his girls, “Savings accounts made with several different banks are insured. The property markets are not.”

The day finally winds down and things begin to settle back into the normal day to day grind. The first thing up on Monday is another visit with Tanner’s sister. He has me rising at the crack of dawn because we need to go in VERY early to see her.

We make it through the ‘gauntlet’ with far less difficulty since I now have female ID which matches with the young woman the deputies see before them. Soon we are back in his sister’s office. Why do they call the office, ‘chambers’?

Anyway...

“Welcome back, Katrina, Tan. Sorry for having you come in so early but we have a lot to discuss and I don’t have a great deal of time this morning so I’m starting early.”

“That’s all right, your honor.” I reply, “We have a lot going on today as well and this morning is a good time.”

“First step, call me Jennifer or Jenny.”

“Thank you, Jennifer.”

“You’re welcome,” she moves right into the nitty gritty so I know she’s pressed for time, “I’ve received the doctor’s preliminary reports back the same day I first saw you. What took some time were the full reports and the results of the scans that Doctor Farmington had run on you. That’s the major reason I had Tan bring you in this morning. Tan, you will need to listen to this too, because it will fall on your shoulders to keep a strict watch of her and I’ll tell you a little more about that after this meeting.

First of all, your chromosomes are XY like any other male but your body looks most definitely female. This apparently is due to a number of medical issues resulting from the period of time you were in the womb. The first and most obvious issues are your feminine shape and your breasts. I see from William’s notes that your shape has been feminine all your life but your breasts began to grow when you were...” she flips a couple of pages and returns, “about eleven years of age. Both of these are just the tip of the iceberg as the scans and other blood work he ordered learned much more.”

She pauses here to see if I’m still on the same page so to speak.

“All right. The scans indicate that while you have male organs on your body they are not fully developed and are in fact apparently not properly functioning. In other words as a male you are sterile...”

“So those scans did sterilize me?” I blurt out feeling totally betrayed by the medical profession.

“The scans? Oh, no! You were sterile long before that. The scans simply showed that your testes were undeveloped. Of far greater and possibly more dangerous import are the other discoveries. The X-rays and scans show the skeletal structure of your pelvic region is also female. That is, if you were a fully functioning female you would be able to give birth in much a normal manner as your pelvic region is properly wide to allow for it, however, you will never do that since your Uterine cavity and canal are nearly non-existent.”

“What does that mean in English?” I don’t follow this except for the part where I can’t have children because I can’t make sperm.

Jennifer continues, “In English? For the most part you are a female. However, and this is a big however, you don’t have ovaries which means you cannot have children. Further your Uterus, which is where a child would grow until birth, also is undeveloped. The upper Vaginal canal, which is part of the path the child would follow to get from the Uterus to the outside world, exists but halts before connecting with an underdeveloped opening just behind your scrotum. The pathway almost exists and the location where your Vagina should be is not large enough at this time. Do you follow me so far?”

“I think so. I’m sterile as a boy and sterile as a girl, so I am an it like my Dad kept telling me.”

“Not exactly. The doctor is afraid that your Uterus might begin to develop which could be quite dangerous to your health if it does so. The reason it could be dangerous is because if it matures and begins to cycle without the rest of the path also developing then the blood will basically have nowhere to go. It could not seek release to the outside since your Vaginal canal is incomplete.”

“So that means they need to take out this Uterus thing?”

“Or to complete the vaginal canal and give you a proper Vagina in place of the small opening.”

OH yeech. They want to make me a girl boy? Either way I can’t have children and if they do that then I may as well get a job in a freak show.

“Katrina are you still listening?”

“What? Yes I heard you. I can’t have children no matter which way I go. I’ll look like a girl with boy’s parts hanging on her but they won’t work and my girl parts won’t work so I can’t have children.”

“That’s a brief synopsis and not entirely correct.”

“So how could I have children?”

“The doctor is not certain you could however, and this is a big however, he feels that should your Uterus begin to develop then you might be able to have fertilized eggs implanted which would allow you bring a baby to term.”

“In English again please.”

“If your Uterus grows and the vaginal canal is properly enlarged and completed, you could artificially be impregnated as a woman and give birth to a child as a woman.”

My face must have betrayed my shock. Tanner looks equally as shocked.

“Keep in mind that if your Uterus begins to develop without the corrections to the vaginal canal it could cause you severe harm. That’s why you will need to go in periodically for exams and blood work and Tan will need to keep a very close eye on you in the meantime.” She eyes him with one eyebrow raised, “we will talk some more after Katrina leaves the room.”

I begin to get up.

“Where are you going? We’re not finished yet.”

“There’s more?”

“Yes there is... You also went to see James, Doctor Worth...” Tanner snickers and his sister scowls at him but continues, “His evaluation indicates your thought processes are more feminine than masculine although there are elements of both...”

“Talk about hedging your bets.” Tanner mumbles.

“Tan, don’t make a difficult situation worse. Doctor Worth feels that your physical appearance aside, your mental processes are more female than male but as I said previously, not entirely so. He feels after his interview with you that you fall into one of the categories of transgender and depending upon your desires he feels you are a candidate to complete the sexual transition to female. He is completely unaware of Doctor Farmington’s results and came to this conclusion on his own.”

“Fancy that.” Tanner says, “It wouldn’t have anything to do with her looking so female now would it?”

“Tan, I’d send you from the room if it weren’t so important that you understand all this too.”

“What’s to understand? She’s mostly girl, which is obvious, and partially boy, which is also obvious. It took two doctors and a bunch of expensive tests to tell us what we already know?”

“Brother dear — shut up. If you don’t have something constructive to say then don’t open your yap.”

Tanner begins to get up and walk toward the door.

“Tan, you get right back here and sit unless you want this girl’s death on your conscience.”

He halt midstream as I gape at his sister and he turns around, “What do you mean, death?”

“Come back here and sit down. Now that your stupidity has made it necessary for me to say it while she was still in the room she may as well stay and hear the rest.”

Tanner looks like his balloon has been deflated and he slinks back to sprawl in his chair once again.

“Now Tan, are you going to listen carefully or sulk like a child?”

Tanner sits upright, “Okay Sis. Tell us why all this is life threatening to Katrina here.”

“Remember what I said about an undeveloped Uterus?”

We both nod our heads.

“Okay. If for whatever reason, it begins to develop then at some point it could begin to cycle. That means Katrina would have a period. There is nothing to say this will ever happen and it may or may not be able to be forced by putting her on a male to female regimen that other transgender girls follow.

If, for any reason, it does begin to develop without the proper completion of the vaginal canal then, as I said, when it begins to cycle there will be nowhere for that blood to go except into Katrina’s body and that could make her very ill or even kill her. For that reason I wasn’t going to bring it up except privately with you so you could watch her and get her to a hospital if or when you notice she’s becoming ill. I didn’t want to worry her but, no, you had to be a jerk.

“Story of my life.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“So what could be done now to protect her?”

“That’s up to her. She has the information and she may either have the female organs removed or have the pathway completed, her choice. I’m going to hold this second set of papers until such time as she makes that decision. She may have years or she may have days but at some time the decision must be made. So long as her Uterus does not change she is okay. When it begins to change then a decision must be made quickly one way or the other. Katrina, do you understand all this?”

“I think so. If I decide to be a girl then maybe I could have babies if they are implanted in me? But, as a boy I can’t have children?”

“Close enough. I’m not going to allow the use of hormones because they could trigger development of that Uterus within you. I keep calling it an Uterus but it really isn’t quite that developed and the report is using terms, such as the paramesonephric duct, which are not usually used by the general public . In a male a number of these things exist when he is born but then they degenerate as the male develops and enters puberty. Apparently you have not gone through that period and I don’t want to do anything to tip the scales until you decide which way you want them to fall.”

“ I think I understand, I may pick whether I’m a boy or a girl?”

“I’m afraid not. The way I read these reports you will always look like a female even if you continue to allow those male organs outside your body to remain. You will not be able to sire children. If you opt to have those organs removed and to attempt to develop the female organs then a regimen of hormones could help that once you have the vaginal canal corrected through surgical intervention. Either way I want you to spend some time thinking about it and then I’ll place the power of the court behind your decision so appropriate medical action may be taken. Tan, I want you to take good care of this young lady in the meantime.”

“I get it, Jen. I’ll try to do everything I can.”

Jennifer looks at him and then nods her head, “Any questions, Katrina?”

“I... I don’t think so. At least not right now. Wait. Yes I have one. Are there any more parts of me which are male other than what’s outside my body?”

“I don’t see any mention of them in the reports but that’s a valid question to ask your doctor when you see him again. Any other questions?”

“I... don’t think so. I see the doctors again Wednesday morning so if I have any questions I’ll write them down and ask the doctors.”

“Good. If you do talk with the doctors and they confuse you, tell them to provide me with the information and you and I may talk about it later.” She comes around her desk as I am getting up and she gives me a hug, “Tan, if I hear you haven’t protected her I’ll see you receive a parking ticket every day for the rest of your life.”

He doesn’t have much to say and I start giggling then take his arm so he may lead me out of chambers. At this point Jennifer grabs him halting us both. She points to the engagement band on my finger, “What’s the story about this? The last I saw you were wearing both an engagement and a wedding band.”

I explain the rest of the mess we had spoken about last week and the slight change to help protect me.

“Was that his idea or yours?”

“The bands were his idea then changing it so I am his fiancee was my idea.”

She shakes her head, “You don’t know what your getting yourself into, Kat. If you become female and this goes somewhere... I hope you are able to control a big baby because that’s what you’re going to have on your hands. Beat it you two, I’m behind schedule and today’s going to be rough.”

Tanner and I depart, crossing that bridge where the light breeze whips up under my skirt chilling my legs as we walk. They really need to enclose it so people may cross easily in inclement weather, but it isn’t all that bad during the warmer months.

We drive out in the Beemer after Tanner pays our Tariff and we are on our way to the Social Security offices. The building where I apply for my passport is just a little way down the block from Social Security so we may leave the car there. Social Security doesn’t take long. They call up the number on their computer and take a certified copy of my name change and make the appropriate notations in the file. A new card will be mailed but, presto, Social Security thinks I’m Katrina Van Derholt.

Passports is much more time consuming... Yada, Yada, Yada...

No, I’ve never had one before. Yes, I need one because I’m going to Russia.

No, I’m not a terrorist. No, I’m not defecting.

Yes, I am a model and have a short engagement in St. Petersburg as well as six other locations on the list which is provided by Tanner.

Yes, the whole thing will take about four to five weeks and then I’ll be returning to the States for a while before the next trip.

Yes, this will occur on a fairly frequent basis.

Yes, I’m absolutely certain I am not a terrorist.

Yes, I’m a US citizen by virtue of birth (see birth certificate and copy thereof attached).

Yada, Yada, Yada.

How many different ways can we say the same thing?

“All right. Pending investigation we will mail you a passport in the next eight to ten weeks.”

“Perhaps you weren’t listening... She needs the passport now as we leave next Tuesday. If we had more time we wouldn’t have come here for assistance from a sister agency.”

“Perhaps you weren’t listening. We will send you the passport after we investigate and it will be eight to ten weeks.”

At this point Tanner has had enough, “I want to speak with your supervisor.”

“That’s your privilege, but it won’t change anything.”

“In that case I know what will. If DC calls down to your supervisor and says you are impeding an internationally backed mission what do you think the chances are you will be holding this job tomorrow?”

“As if I haven’t heard threats before. Give it your best shot.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Tanner pulls out his cell and goes through his registry before punching the autodial. “Hi, Tony. This is Tanner... Yeah you too... I have a bit of a problem. Yes, I do call you more often than when I have problems. You know that little thing you asked for me to do when I told you about my upcoming trip into the nether lands? Good. That whole thing may be screwed because of a petty bureaucrat in Passport control here... No, I’ve got a passport but the model who is a part of the mission does not. We need her’s within three days and this idiot is refusing to process it faster than ten weeks. Yes, she’s an integral part. She never needed one before... Katrina Van Derholt, that’s D.E.R.H.O.L.T... Van not von...
Just a second.” He turns to one of the clerks, “What’s the department number here?” Having that he goes back to his conversation, “... Okay Tony what else do you need? She wouldn’t give the supervisors name to me... Her badge said Robertson... Ten minutes? Okay, if you can do it that fast, we’ll wait. Thanks Tony.”

As soon as he hangs up I’m right in his face... well... okay so I’m a little shorter than he is but you still know what I mean.

“Tanner, what’s the ‘little thing’ this Tony asked you to do and what does it have to do with me?”

“Nothing much. While we are there we will go around the city and take some photos of you in various places. I can use them in your port and he asked if he could have a set of the photos showing various tourist attractions there.”

Now this might seem like a plausible explanation to you but I think he’s hiding something and there is more fat in this baloney he’s trying to feed me than there is in the french fries I’m not supposed to eat.

“We’ll talk about this later, Tanner.”

“Kat, would I lie to you? I told my sister I would protect you.”

“I’m beginning to think I might need some protection from you, or at least from the omissions of detail in the things you tell me.”

“Kat, you’re too smart for my own good.”

“Tanner...” I lean close to him and whisper, “If you’re a spy at least tell me enough that I may help rather than just wander around fat, dumb and sassy.”

“It’s safer sometimes to be fat, dumb and sassy.”

“Not if you wind up getting caught and I don’t have a clue about how to create a situation which would allow me to get you out of trouble. You can’t look out for me if you’re in a jail cell. I suppose Irina knows since the two of you go almost everywhere together.”

“Kat, you’re too smart for your own good.”

“So let me help in some small way.”

“You are.”

“I mean bigger than that.”

He straightens in his chair and so do I. After a minute or so I hold my left hand up and begin to fidget with my engagement band where he can’t help but notice it. After less than a minute of that his hand covers mine, “Kat. Give it a rest until we are at the studio and it’s safe to talk.”

I give him a startled glance then smile and peck his cheek. He pats my hands then removes his from mine once again. Two women are approaching the counter and one of them is the clerk we were speaking with. They don’t look happy as they motion us over.

We get up and cross to the counter where the new individual silently places a passport on the counter. Tanner picks it up and examines it carefully then hands it to me. I look through it not knowing what I’m looking for as I note the spelling of the name is correct and the photo is one of those which we handed in with the application.

I place the passport in my purse as Tanner says to them, “See, that wasn’t so difficult was it?”

“Why didn’t you simply say this was an Agency issue?”

“I do believe we cautiously hinted at that. The problem was this lady didn’t believe us so it became necessary to go at it from the top down. Thank you for expediting this request. Have a good day.”

He holds out his arm and I accept it then he leads me out to the elevator while the one lady shakes her head as she says to the other with some disdain, “wanna be Spies.”

We exit the building and walk back to the car.

I’m chasing rainbows in the rain

Back at the studio, I’m fairly chomping at the bit to get answers and Tanner continues to put me off.

“Tan, you said when we got back to the studio.”

“I also said, ‘when it is safe’ it isn’t yet. Don’t worry, I will talk about it with you. We have other issues to take care of just now. Modeling issues and they won’t wait. We need to have them completed and in the portfolios as well as out by courier to the paying clients. We don’t have a lot of time right now. If I don’t talk with you here then we will later at the house, I promise. It’s important.”

He smiles at me as I begin to look exasperated at him. I’m about to say something when he leans down a little and kisses my forehead. I look up at him and he leans a little further and kisses my lips. We stand like that for two or three seconds then he backs off again. I’m looking at him and I don’t know what I feel. It’s nice that he wants to kiss since I’m supposed to be a girl right now... I think I like it. But I’m not a girl. Then my thoughts pause in mid flight. Well, I’m certainly not a boy because all there is of that is what can be seen down below. There’s more girl in this body than there is boy... but... which was I supposed to be?

I was brought up boy, or at least some unreasonable facsimile thereof. Then again I kept getting pounded by the other guys and my Dad for being too girly. The girls hated me because I was pretty, so no one liked me. The first people who didn’t judge me and actually supported me, however I happen to be, were Irina and Tanner. Now his sister and the doctors have been nice as well. It’s difficult to forget prejudices which have been beaten into me. The doctor’s said maybe I could be a girl and actually have a baby??? Except that depends on a lot of stuff which would need to be done as well as going on hormones and that other stuff Jennifer talked about. I can’t do that though until we will be sticking around here for quite a while since the changes the hormones might bring about could be dangerous.

I wonder if other T-girls go through this soul searching? I wonder if I’m a T-girl? I have so many questions and I don’t even know what they all are or who to ask.

“Tanner, I’m scared.”

“About?”

“Me.”

He lifts his head and drops it again then draws me into an embrace. No kisses just a nice long, snug, warm, happy, wonderful hug. I don’t know how long we stood there but I needed every second of it. I heard a door open and close somewhere in the studio but ignored it. Tanner is still holding me and I don’t want it to stop. I wish Mom and Dad had held me like this. I wish Sis and I could have been sisters without all the crap. I wish...

I feel Tanner’s arms beginning to loosen and I hug him tighter but he begins to gently pry me loose.

“Come on Kat. We have work to do. I promise if you still need it later I’ll hold you as long as you want.”

I look up at his eyes with the hint of tears in mine, “I wish...”

He looks down at me, “Yeah, I know. Come on beautiful, we have work to do.”

It takes me a bit to get back into the groove but soon I’m placating the clients and a pair of models as well as assisting Tanner by bringing up the pages of photos on the computer for the clients to look at as they transfer to the computer. Sometimes they want to see individual images and I need to take a few moments to remember how that is accomplished and somehow I always seem to bring up the first image so I need to scroll to the one they want to see. I’ll ask Tanner to show me how to do that again. I remember the primary task I have... Stay away from the edit and file features or I might accidentally erase all the pics. I need to break away to go help the models again so Tanner takes over at the computer. I’ll ask him about how I bring up just some one pic in particular later on when the clients are gone.

I also need to ask him if I have enough money earned to purchase a lot more lingerie and maybe a gown. Gad... I’m spending all my money on new clothes, shoes and accessories. At this rate I’ll spend all the money as fast as I earn it. How am I ever going to have my body repaired? Then it hits me... Which way do I want it repaired? Tears... I don’t have time for tears. Maybe after the clients leave.

I thrust my emotions back down just like I’ve done for the last ten or more years and go help the models.

The shoot continues for yet another hour and a half making it one of our longer ones before everyone packs up and leaves. Tanner promising the clients that he will finish the processing and printing of the proofs plus the 8x10's of the pics the clients have already selected on the fly and courier them out tomorrow.

“They’ll probably be couriered out to you in the early afternoon. You should have them no later than four, worst case four thirty.”

“Could we have digital copies as well?”

“Not a problem. I’ll throw those in gratis.”

“Thanks. As always, it’s a pleasure doing business with your Agency, Mr. Hamersley.”

“Thanks. Be sure to spread the word. I’m always looking for new clients.”

They shake hands and depart. The girls and I have done the equivalent.

Tan has a couple of hours work to do now before we go home. I pull out my language lessons and Irina packs up, says his good-byes for the day and is off to go place his orders for more makeup and head home.

I’m sitting there with my lessons playing but my mind is thousands of miles away thinking again about my life; past, present and future. Past and present are the easy parts as recalling memories is something the human mind is particularly adept at accomplishing, especially when those memories are not something I really want to recall. I spend a disproportionate amount of time in self recrimination as well as wallowing in self pity for my lost years of childhood and the confusion they induced in me. Guilt at not being the boy my father wanted me to be and shame at being something Pastor Richards said should never have been permitted to live.

Sadness too at the pain I caused my Mother since I was/ am a freak of nature. I wonder what my life would have been like if my parents had even tried to help me. Who would I be today? Would I be a girl? Would I have had friends? Would it have been possible that my sister and I could have shared lives and gone on dates together with boys, giving each that self assurance that mutual protection affords? Would our brother and Father have protected us? And now... Who am I? Am I still a freak, trying to pretend I’m a girl so people won’t look strangely at me as I bicycle past them? What am I doing trying to be a female model? What does this really mean? I suppose I’m hiding successfully since people are accepting me as a girl. Can’t they see I’m a fraud? I’m not a model. I haven’t the faintest idea what it’s all about. Hell, I’m not even a girl and here I am sharing changing rooms with female models and we are talking together and generally doing things girls do when together.

I still have thousands of questions which no one can answer and yet... Two years from now, if I just save my money, where will I be? One of the richest ‘its’ in the country? Will it even matter anymore? Will I even care about living any longer by then? Do I care about living longer now? Well... Yes, I think I do. I’m beginning to interact with people without them looking at me as though I’m something which should go hide under a rock. I may not have many friends but I’m beginning to collect a lot of people who are not outright enemies. A lot of people who accept me as I am. Yeah, right... As I am... A girl. What would they say or do if I told them I’m a boy? Then again maybe I’m not a boy. I need to talk with those doctors some more. I wish I knew what questions to ask.

My biggest question is “WHAT AM I”? I don’t think they are prepared to answer that. They’ll just look at me and say, “What do you think you are?”

I take several minutes considering that. Who and what do I think I am? Up until the last few days I would have answered that with “I’m Mac.” All right, Who and what is ‘Mac’? He’s a guy who has a Mom and a Dad, a sister and a brother. That’s nice but ‘Who or what is Mac’? What makes Mac the person he or she happens to be?

Good question. Why am I Mac or even better... Am I Mac or am I Katrina? Well I’ve been Mac a lot longer than I’ve been Katrina so I suppose I’m Mac... So how long you’ve been someone determines if you are that person?

I think about that. No. Who you are is who you feel is the person deep inside you. Then what makes you Mac? Is that who you feel deep inside you? I think about that too and still don’t have a good answer. If you are Mac, then why are you wearing Katrina’s clothes and answering to her name? I think about that... Why indeed am I answering to her name? Because she is me. Is she? You just said, “I’m Mac.”... How can you be both Mac and Katrina? Maybe I was mistaken... Maybe I’ve been Katrina all along but my messed up body has been confusing the issue.

Then the question still pertains, ‘Who do you think you are’?
My subconscious asks all the hard questions.

“I DON’T KNOW.” I blurt out so loud that Tanner turns from his computer to look at me. He takes a second glance and gets up, coming over to me as he grabs a box of tissues on the way.

He pulls a few tissues to wipe my face and then takes me into a soft hug as I put my arms around his neck and begin sobbing.

To his credit, Tanner doesn’t say a thing but just allows me to cry and holds me close until I am cried out for the moment. Even then he doesn’t say anything but just helps me mop up my face and then he goes and pulls a flavored water from the fridge and brings it back to me as I sit in a forlorn heap on the chair next to my lessons which are still playing waiting for my answers since no one has stopped them. The water helps a bit and he then helps me up and leads me to the bathroom where I may wash my face to remove the harshness and sting of the tears. I’m moving like a robot. Just doing things by rote without giving them any thought. That question just keeps going through my mind over and over and over, “Who and what do you think you are?” That’s the damn question I’ve been asking myself for years.

Eventually Tanner finishes his preliminary work with the photos and has a number of large ‘poof’ sheets completed. Tomorrow he will print the 8x10s of the photos the clients selected ‘on the fly’ as well as cut the disk with the images on it. The proofs go into an envelope which is addressed to the client to await the rest of the material tomorrow. He calls the courier service and arranges for a pickup at three thirty figuring he will have the rest finished by then.

Finally he goes around checking everything and plugging in the RV before collecting me (and my lessons) to go out to the BMW and ‘home’. That thought reminds me I haven’t been to my apartment in nearly a week. I need to do something about that during this week since the rent will come due while I’m in Europe. That part of my life seems so far away now. Almost as far away as the place where I almost didn’t grow up.

Just how I might pay the rent when it must be done in person causes me a bit of pause and then I break into giggles at what the ‘super’ might think if I show up as Katrina to pay a couple of month’s rent on Mac’s apartment.

Tan glances at me, “What so funny?”

I share my thoughts about what thoughts the ‘super’ might have when I go to pay the rent.

“Maybe we should collect everything from the apartment and bring it to the house. That will save your paying rent and it will eliminate the need for embarrassing answers to embarrassing questions.”

I think about that and agree with him, “It will need to be done before Sunday and I’ll need to give him notice in writing right away.”

He thinks for a second, “Okay. Write it out and we may have it delivered to him tomorrow. Then we may pick everything up Friday or Saturday. How much do you have there?”

“Just clothes and small stuff. The apartment was furnished so the appliances and furniture stay. A few small things like my clock radio and a CD player, some dishes and flatware... not much other than clothes.”

“Think it would all fit in the Beemer’s trunk and the clothes in the back?”

“Easily. I don’t know why I’m really taking the stuff since it isn’t like I’ll be wearing or using any of it soon. I got along without it for the last week.”

“The only concern I can see is if you leave something important there. It might even be a good idea to give the clothes to GOODWILL or something. They might cause you to recall some ‘less than happy’ memories. At this point I don’t believe you need that additional discomfort. You’ll have the money to get new if that’s what you decide you need to do.”

I nod my head. It may be a little early to be ridding myself of them but my own mind is doing just fine at reminding me of the pain of my roots. For the first time in my life I feel like I’m beginning to have a little happiness. Ah... but do you deserve happiness? Someone who isn’t even human but a thing? What would you do with happiness even if you could find it? And if you could, who would that person be? Mac? Katrina? It?

“STOP IT!”

Tanner jerks the wheel for a moment as he looks around urgently.

“WHAT? What did you see? Did I hit something?”

“NO. No. Everything’s okay Tanner... Sorry... My mind is still punishing me. I didn’t mean to cause you stress.”

“Ookkkaayy...... If your mind is going to be doing that sort of thing often, maybe you could put up a flag or something so I won’t panic when you yell.”

“I’m sorry.” I gently place my hand on his on the wheel. “I didn’t know I was thinking out loud.”

“Not just thinking but yelling. Do you do this often?”

“I... don’t think so. This past week has stirred up some very old memories which are threatening to eat me alive.”

“I can call in an exterminator.”

“What? You want to fumigate my mind?”

“Will it help?” he says defensively.

“Probably not.”

“Well, then I won’t waste the money.”

“Your sister was wrong. You’re not a big baby. You’re a very intelligent and humorous fellow.”

“Rats. And I thought I was hiding it so well.”

“You also like to joke a lot.”

“Oh, oh. Found out again. Don’t tell Sis. She’ll never believe you anyway; she grew up with me.”

“In spite of you, you mean.”

He gets this bright look on his face, “Ah, well... that too. Ah, home sweet home.”

“Yes. And if you take a good look around you’ll notice it’s a lot cleaner than it was a couple of days ago.”

“What? You vacuumed up my favorite dust? How could you?”

“Oh it was easy. I did it with the vacuum and these two hands.”

“Great, just what I need. A girlfriend who is as accomplished a jokester as moi.”

“Give me half a chance and I’ll have you going in circles, mien scat.”

“How, exactly, do you mean that? Figuratively or literally?”

“What? The half chance or the circles?”

“The mien scat!”

The smile drops from my face, “You know what it means?”

“Natuurlijk mien duifje. I’m a spy, remember?”

This is all becoming so exciting and frightening.

“So Mr. Spy, how many languages do you know?”

“Counting English?”

“All right, counting English.”

“Oh... let’s see. There’s this and that and then... Yeah... Could be...” he turns to me briefly as he answers, “one or two.”

My bubble of expectation that I might actually get a real answer out of him bursts with his declaration.

“Oh. You can’t even give me one straightforward answer can you? I’m your fiancee and you lie even to me.”

“First of all Kat, you aren’t really my fiancee. At least not yet. If that happens to change in the future then possibly; but for now it is a fiction just as much as my being a spy. All I do is take photographs. As to lying, I haven’t lied to you. I may not tell you all the truth but I haven’t lied.”

“Omission of the truth is as good as a lie.”

“Oh no, Katrina. It’s better than a lie. Lies may be found out, but truth is truth.”

“Then Mr. Purveyor of Truth, would you tell me exactly how many different languages you happen to be capable of speaking sufficiently fluently to either understand them or to make yourself understood in them?”

“No.”

“I give up. I swear I’m going to tell your sister and let her deal with you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would and I will.”

“She’ll never believe you.”

“I really don’t care. You will be her problem and not mine.”

We make the turn at the end of the block and less than twenty seconds later are parked in the driveway of his house. Once again I march up to the house, unlock the door with my key and go up an enter my room. Moments later I hear Tanner close the front door and ten or fifteen seconds later the alarm goes off. I hear him running back to the keypad and soon the alarm stops shrilling. Another ten seconds and the phone begins ringing. He gives some kind of excuse along with what I suppose is a password and then hangs up.

I’m changing to something casual when he knocks on my door.

“Just a minute.” I finish changing and go to the door.

“Yes, you wanted something?”

He stands there just looking at me for a few seconds and as I begin to close the door once again he blocks it.

“Tanner, stop it. This isn’t amusing.”

“Five and three dialects.”

“What? Oh. And why are you telling me now?”

“Because you’re right, there’s no reason for you not to know.”

“Thank you. I suppose one of those languages is Russian?”

“Possibly. Kat, please... that’s all I can say at the moment.”

I stand there and think then give him a little smile and reach up gently touching his face. “Okay. I’ll accept that. When will you be able to tell me more?”

“That depends on a lot of things, some of which are completely out of my control.”

“If I finally decide to become a woman rather than a man again would you be able to tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

I get a very perturbed expression on my face.

“Kat. Easy. Even if you were a full woman right now, this second and we were really engaged, I still could not make that decision. It would be up to others to say what I could tell you. Hell, even having a pretend girl friend could be a liability. I don’t want to see you hurt, Kat.”

“I’ve been beaten most of my life and hurt so badly so many times that I knew the inside of the hospital better than I knew my own room at home. Hurt? I’ve been physically and mentally hurt more that you could ever guess and for nearly all my life. There is no way you can ever... EVER remove those pains from me. The best you could do is to help me to find w happy memories and if that’s too much to ask, then I guess I’ll have to find them on my own somewhere and somehow else. You can’t stop me from being hurt again - badly. All you can to is help me to forget the pain.

The pain of having my own family turn their back on me. The pain of having my own brother and father beat me up because I couldn’t fight back against the bullies in school who beat me, which gave me a double helping of sorrow. My own sister would give me over to guys so they could pound on me. My mother who never comforted me but turned me over to my Dad whose sole thought was if he beat on me hard enough and often enough the demons which made me look female would be purged. PAIN? You have no idea what pain is like.”

Tanner listens to this and is just beginning to get a glimpse into my past. The door to my memories opens for a few seconds before it slams shut again to keep the pain from over-whelming me. Those few seconds nothing compared to the years I’ve been through. I think he is starting to realise this. He once again gently pulls me to him and holds me in his arms and once again I’m wishing my Dad had done this.

“Katrina... If anyone ever touches you and causes you hurt, tell me.” He kisses my forehead and continues to hold me. Again I don’t know how long he holds me but I don’t fight it. I need the warmth of someone caring about me. A gentle touch telling me things will be all right. Perhaps not all of the time but, at least, for a little while. It’s nice to just be held and to feel like I’m loved even if it’s someone who is nearly a stranger who is just trying to show to me that someone could care about me. I’m not alone. There are others who care.

to be continued

Once Upon a Time

I’ve been in my room studying and Tanner has been in his office away from the office, I’m beginning to think he has a ‘red phone’ hidden in there somewhere. After about an hour he comes knocking at my open door and invites himself in when he sees I’m studying my Dutch.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

My apologies to Teddi’s readers. It has been pointed out to me that there were several errors in the Dutch found in the previous two chapters. That was likely my fault as I applied my spell checker to the entire manuscript before breaking it into chapters for posting. My spell checker knows English and some German thus...

Sorry. I’ll try to remember not to spell check Teddi’s material when considering future stories for posting.

Rénae

I make some kind of a crack about spies and he starts laughing, “Don’t believe everything you see in the movies, Kat. The business isn’t like that. A lot of it is very dry.”

“Oh. Like the wines at the Dinner?”

He laughs some more, then purses his lips. I can see the wheels turning just like the other day when Irina told me not to interrupt Tan while he looked like that.

A minute later he turns and looks at me, “Stand up.”

I have no idea what’s on his mind but I put a halt to my study materials and stand up, moving away from the little desk to where I may stand without anything around me. He walks around me slowly telling me, “No. Don’t move,” when I begin to turn to follow him. He goes slowly completely around me touching my back softly and then my shoulder as he continues around me. I feel like I’m being examined by an X-ray machine or maybe one of those scanners at the image clinic. His wheels are still turning.

Watching my face he says, “All right, MAC. You want to try to help me and do some of this?”

The name Mac hits me like I’ve been slapped and he sees me recoil from it.

“Okay Katrina. How did you feel about that?”

“Not good. I feel much better about Katrina.”

“So Mac is bad memories and Katrina is happy ones?”

I never gave that much thought. I suppose he’s right but I really haven’t had much of a chance to collect bad memories as Katrina. I would prefer not to do so.

“Do you have any good memories as Mac?”

“Would you stop using that name? And no, I don’t have any happy memories as Mac.”

“So you would rather be Katrina?”

“I don’t know. That decision is still something that is still in turmoil and is causing me a lot of pain. It isn’t easy to be someone I’ve never been.”

“That’s right. It isn’t easy to be someone you’ve never been. And that’s how so many people get tripped up in this business. An incomplete past, a mis-spoken word, a memory mentioned which the cover should not have available to them... Any of these and much, much more could bring a person up on the enemy’s radar. And they watch for a long, long time.”

He stands there in front of me as he thinks, “What if you had to go back to being Mac right now and for the rest of your life?”

He sees my face turn white and suddenly I’m holding my breath.

“Okay. Same question but as Katrina.”

Some colour begins to return to my face and I begin breathing again.

“So you prefer to be Katrina, even though you don’t know shit about being a model except for a few days work and the coaching, which officially begins tomorrow by the way. You don’t know much about being a girl nor exactly how a girl would act in various situations because you don’t have a female experience on which to draw for new situations. You want to be ‘engaged’,” he uses his fingers to create quote marks around the word engaged, “as the female in a male-female relationship to a man who is possibly more than he seems and about whom you know so very little. You even want to help him with whatever it is that he does, again as a female in his life. Do you know how absurd all this is?”

My shoulders droop and I hang my head down, “I know.” I manage to somehow croak out barely above a whisper as I return to sit on the bed.

“Can you shoot a gun?”

I deflate further, “No.”

“Can you fight?”

I glance up at him then down again, “No.”

“Do you have the first idea of how to help provide a cover for someone who might be ‘a spy’ as you put it?”

Again, I whisper, “No.” as I continue to look down at my hands which shine back at me all manicured, polished, and moisturized where they lay on my lap.

“Then how could you be anything but a liability for someone who might actually be a spy?”

I shake my head and begin thinking. He’s right. I couldn’t fight my way out of a wet paper bag. I don’t know the first thing about how to help him if he might need my support. All I know is what I’ve seen in spy movies and that’s likely a crock of bull. I would be no help to him and could possibly be a significant hindrance. I rub my temples to try to ease the headache which is coming on due to the heartache which is threatening to kill me. One more possibility shot to pieces.

He stands there in front of me for several minutes just looking at me as I try to shrink smaller.

“ALL RIGHT.” I blurt out, “I haven’t the faintest about how to do anything to help. I’m just a stupid girl who’s not good for anything but being a clothes rack. Happy now? I was too busy getting beat up to learn those things nor much of anything else.”

He continues to stand there looking at me.

“Stop that.”

He continues to watch me.

“Tanner. Please stop that.”

He finally reaches his hand down to me, “Kat. Would you come with me for a bit? Shut down your lessons and put them away. We might be a while.”

Again, I nod absently and get up from the bed shutting down my computer and putting my lessons away in the night stand drawer for now before I follow him to his bedroom. I begin to worry when he closes the door but then he crosses the room to another of the many bookcases he has in the house. I wonder what it is he is going to show me when suddenly the bookcase swings open and there is a hallway behind it. An honest-to-God secret passage, or at least so I thought at the time. We enter the hallway which leads downward and he closes the bookcase, which from this side looks more like a door with a funny latch built into it at this end of the hall. We walk along the hallway which leads down and down, going through two more doors before entering a long room which I figure is underground and likewise must be at least part way under the house next door to his own. He later told me those extra doors were part of a ‘sound lock’ which help to prevent the sound from the room below passing up to anything on the surface.

At the far end of this long skinny room we entered there are two paper silhouettes which he draws to our end of the room using an electrical controller. Turning around I see a dozen or more firearms on pegs on the wall behind us. He goes into a small cabinet which crosses the wall under the weapons and brings out a small box, a pair of goggles and two headsets. Well, they weren’t headsets but I didn’t know that until he told me they are hearing protectors. The little box contains bullets and he takes down one of the hand guns, carrying it and the box over to a small shelf near one of the silhouettes.

He pushes a button on the side of the gun and pulls out this long thing from the handle. I’ve never been this close to a gun before but from the movies I know this thing is where the bullets are supposed to go. He pulls part of the gun back and now it looks strange and the barrel is poking out of the part he pulled back. He lays it down on the shelf which is between us and the target then begins to show me the circles on the silhouette, telling me the best place to shoot the paper.

“If this were a man then this is the best killing spot. If you’re close enough to be able to hit the smaller circle on the head,” he points to it, “then that is also a killing spot. Now I’m going to send the target back down the range and I’ll shoot at each circle then bring the target back so you may see it. After that we’ll let you try it once or twice.”

As he’s loading that thing with four bullets, I’m looking at the target which is now so far away I can’t even see the circles. My heart is in my throat. He has to be kidding. Me shoot that?

“Put on the shooting glasses and your hearing protectors. The shots can echo and feel like they’re pounding at you something fierce down here even with the sound deadening on the ceiling and walls.”

After he helps me adjust my protection, he puts that thing with the bullets in it into the gun then pushes on something and suddenly the sliding part snaps forward startling me and causing me to jump. He smiles at me and just as suddenly the whole room sounds like it has blown up. The sliding part of the gun is stuck back again and he puts it down on that little shelf before bringing the target back for me to look at. There are two nice neat little holes in each of the center circles. I didn’t even know he shot the gun more than once.

I don’t think I can do this. The target is now on it’s way back down the room but it stops about half way. I can just make out the circles. Tanner puts two more bullets into the bullet holder thing and once again snaps the sliding part closed. I jump again. Now he has me come over to the shelf while he holds the gun pointed down at the target. My heart is in my throat. He wants me to hold that... that... gun. I look at it like it’s alive and about to bite me.

“When there are bullets in the pistol, you don’t aim it anywhere except downrange. Downrange is toward the target or targets,” as he points, “understand?” I nod my head. He sends the second target downrange just so I won’t get the idea that it’s okay to aim the gun... pistol, over at the target next to us.

He very slowly and carefully talks me through aiming the gun... pistol, at the target and I squeeze the trigger slowly then almost drop the pistol when it makes a horrible bang and nearly jumps out of my hand. I’m scared half to death.

“Not bad for a first time. Okay, now aim at the head.”

How can he even see where my bullet hit the paper? I feel like I’m going to faint. I take a couple of deep breaths and suppress my desire to be sick, carefully aiming at the head of the target and once again the pistol makes a terrible bang and that slidey thing locks back. I keep the pistol aimed at the target but carefully bring it back and lean over it to look into the empty area which is now visible. No, no more bullets that I can see. Tanner shows me a button to press on the side of the gun and that bullet holder part drops down a little. He pulls it out of the handle and now I can see all the way through the pistol to the ground below. I carefully put the pistol down on the shelf with the... barrel pointed... downrange so I may stop holding it.

I feel much better now that it isn’t in my hand; which feels like it’s tingling. He brings the target back so we can look at it. The holes from my bullets aren’t placed anywhere as well as his, but at least they both hit the paper. My first shot is two rings out from the center and the one where I shot at the head actually hit the shoulder of the target. I feel funny and then realise I’m shaking and...

“Uh, Tanner. Is there a restroom down here?” I ask in dismay.

He chuckles and points at another door. I rush over and make use of the room, returning for further lessons after I also take the time to relieve myself.

The second time went much better as he showed me how to hold the pistol using two hands. Now I don’t feel like I’m going to drop it. When I shoot at the large circles on the... torso of the target my bullet actually hits the paper about two inches from the one Tanner put there. My second shot hits the head this time instead of the shoulder but too low to hit any of the circles. I might even learn how to do this. I considered telling him I would rather not continue but... how can I help him if I can’t do anything he might need me to do? Maybe the movies are right and spies need to carry guns.

We spend nearly an hour down there and by the time we are finishing he has loaded ten bullets into the... magazine... each of the last two times so we don’t need to stop so often to reload. I’m getting better and most of my shots hit less than three inches away from the center of the rings on both the torso and the head with the target all the way down the range. This is getting to be fun. The slidey thing doesn’t frighten me so much now either. We used up the whole box of bullets so he has me remove the hearing protectors and the shooting glasses. We put everything away except the pistol. Now he pulls a metal box out of the cabinet, looks at it and puts it back, doing this twice more before bringing a plastic box and a bottle of liquid over to the bench located at the side of the room where the long walkway that goes down to the... downrange end of the room begins.

“This is the cleaning kit.” He shows me how to clean the pistol with me doing the work. By the time he is happy with the way the pistol looks, my hands look and smell terrible. The cleaning solvent smells bad and then the oil makes a mess. I need to wash my hands, perhaps several times, and put some hand lotion on them. Damn. And I need to touch up my polish.

“The next time we come down here I’m going to bring kitchen gloves with me.”

Tanner laughs and pulls me into a sideways hug, “Kat, you’re quite a girl.”

I think he means that in a positive way.

“Remember, you tell no one about this. Not about the underground range connecting the two houses nor about learning to shoot. Got it?”

“Got it.” This is almost as good as a secret between girl friends.

“Now. This is a secure area. We may talk here and there is little chance anything we say will be overheard. A team comes in here every few days and sweeps for bugs but so far there haven’t been any. You wanted to know and I said I would tell you a little. I’m not a spy, exactly. I’m what is usually known as a ‘free agent’, except I only work for certain US agencies if I do happen to do anything. That basically means I don’t work directly for an Agency but I do keep in contact and let them know where I’m going whenever I go overseas. If they have a need for me they let me know exactly what they expect and we negotiate a price. I then perform that service and they pay me through one means or another. My principle business is photography.

My travels don’t coincide all that often but when they do, it can relieve the pressure on an agent in place as well as sometimes get information out through an unexpected route when the agent in place is being watched since they might be suspect. Usually when the enemy finds the information drop is gone and the AIP hasn’t gone near the drop they figure they have the wrong person shadowed which takes the heat off that agent.

Further, I know a number of languages but don’t let on that I know them. That allows me to hear things and sometimes pick up valuable information which a known or suspected agent might never hear. Again that is unlikely to ever happen.

My instructions are usually brought into this room and left for me, or e-mailed and sometimes even given to me verbally or otherwise in very public places. If you want to start helping while we are on shoots in foreign countries then you need to learn more than Dutch. I’m ordering Russian, probably at least one dialect of Arabic and possibly one of Chinese for starters. We’ll see how you do. If you pick them up as fast as you have been Dutch then we’ll try you on a few more. BUT, and this is very important, you cannot allow ANYONE to suspect you understand these languages. And that’s a lot more difficult to do than it sounds.

If we need to talk without anyone overhearing us then we need to come down here, understand?”

“Yes, Tanner. I understand.”

He looks into my eyes and partially smiles, nodding his head, “Good. Let’s go upstairs and eat some supper.”

We have followed the hallway back to the house and he’s about to open the bookcase door when I grab him and pull him back for a moment. “Thank you, Tanner. Thank you so much.” My arms drop to his torso and hug him tight as I lay my head against his chest. He holds me without hugging quite as much as am I then we let go and I look into his eyes with a happy smile. He opens the door and we go through into the bedroom and after the bookcase is closed we exit the bedroom and go hunt through his TV dinner collection for something edible.

We finish supper and he even allows me to eat my dessert. Perhaps that was supposed to be my reward for beginning to learn to shoot. There must be a lot more to this stuff than shooting guns and learning languages, especially since he told me that I should know how to shoot even though it is very unlikely that I would ever need to do it and talked about listening to people without them knowing we understand their language. I thought some more about other things he said while we were downstairs.

“Contrary to the portrayal of spies in the movies, carrying guns all the time and shooting people seldom happens. Think of it this way, how many accountants do you see carrying weapons and shooting people?”

He had me there. I’ve never seen an accountant carrying a gun nor shooting anyone. I shrugged my shoulders.

He continued, “Much of spying is really information gathering and that is more of a quiet, routine thing. Like going on a photo shoot and taking pictures. Sometimes the subject is a person who is either in the foreground or in the background and sometimes it is simply buildings which are suspected of being used for a purpose different than that which is stated or generally obvious... Like a hospital being used as a civilian cover above an underground munitions bunker or command center. Going around a city with a model and taking publicity photos is a great cover for the few shots which are really the whole purpose of the exercise.

Sometimes someone else provides the information and in that case the agent collects the information and forwards it to the appropriate handler or agency. Again, moving around a city with a model to take publicity photos is still a great cover and they may simply sit to rest for a few moments while they discuss the next location and the clothing to be worn for the shoot. Somewhere during this simple activity the actual information is retrieved from the dead drop where they are sitting or standing during the shoot and then they are on their way to continue the shoot. When the drop is suspected to be under surveillance then it is a little more difficult but there are still ways to accomplish the task.

Dead drops are not used as much as they once were but still it is one method which has a history of working. A brush-by is another which is not used so much since it places two people together in a potentially compromising location and time if one is being followed. It is a great way of getting rid of something though. You brush by the wrong person and give them the ‘package’ then their state security arrests them or just as frequently does not because they didn’t expect you to pass it to someone they never suspected even though you ‘accidentally’ bump into them. Later the correct recipient may also bump into them when they are not under surveillance and thus retrieves the ‘package’. It can work once but not usually more than that.”

My mind comes back to the present just as Tanner smiles, “You better get to your room, Kat. You’ve still got some studying to do and then you need to get to sleep because we’ll be up early again. Tomorrow we have an envelope to send out and we have a couple of shoots to do then you’ll have a busy afternoon with the modeling coach. Tomorrow evening we also have Emerson’s location shoot. The rest of the week is also going to be very busy for you. How are you doing on your Dutch by the way?”

“Mijn lessen gaat goed, dank je.”

“That’s good because I’m sending for those courses I mentioned earlier.”

“Russisch? Ik heb niet klaar met deze cursus.”

“Maybe you haven’t finished the course, but right now you need the Russian worse than the Dutch.”

“Geweldig. Thanks a lot.” I say to him facetiously.

“Yes, if you can learn enough of it quickly it will be ‘wonderful’, and you’re welcome.”

to be continued

‘Most people live on a lonely Island’

Once again I’ve had my nightmares although this time was considerably different. The bullies came to pound me and I pulled out the same little pistol I had used when we practiced. I fired one or two hundred shots hitting absolutely nothing but it frightened them all away. I’ve seen too many movies where the good guys never need to reload. Their guns never run out of bullets. Then Dad came to tell me that using a gun was a crutch and he’d teach me how to do it right.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

In response to the many questions about languages and their use. Teddi was FLUENT in more than ten languages. Both in proper idiomatic use and native inflections. I know for a fact she could pass as a native language speaker in at least English, American, German, French, and Italian. I presume she was as talented in the others as she was in those. I am unable to answer any other questions which have been placed but presume she modeled some of ‘Kat’s’ abilities after her own, much as she seems to have done for Lucy in Air Force Sweetheart.

Rénae Dáºmas

He came at me with murder in his eyes and I pulled out the same little pistol and proceeded to squirt coloured water at him. He melted like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz. I couldn’t believe it, and then the tin man came and arrested me for using an unlicensed squirt gun.

“Only licensed squirt guns are permitted.”

“How does one get a license?”

“OH. Well you have to do a good deed. Have you done any good deeds lately?”

Since he was the Tin Man I took a chance and said, “Well, my house fell on a wicked witch.”

Before I had a response, positive or negative, Tanner woke me up and said we needed to get ready to leave. It seemed so real.

We left an hour later stopping along the way to pick up some coffee and Tanner grabbed a Sweet roll. I lusted after a Cherry Strudel but behaved myself since I had a dessert last night with my supper and I wasn’t ready for an early morning lecture on weight control. Maybe some time when he’s not watching.

We arrived at the studio and Irina pulled in about an hour later, some twenty minutes prior to the arrival of our first client and model who we are surprised to learn is Pam of the “Emerson is going to make me famous” ilk. I guess it didn’t work out. She seems quite subdued and I don’t bother to say anything about it but make the same fuss over her that I would any of the girls that come in to do modeling. When the session ends and they are about to leave she tells me, “Thank you for not throwing everything I said in my face. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. You were right.”

“Pam. I’ve gone through some very bad hurts in my life. I wouldn’t wish anything bad on anyone. We all make mistakes at one time or another. If you are not signed to anyone, I’m sure Tanner would welcome you back without reservation.”

She looks across the room at Tanner who is speaking with the client, “I couldn’t ask him to do that.”

“Are you signed with anyone?”

“No.”

“Would you come back if I asked him to let you do it?”

“Do you really think he would?”

“I’m willing to ask. Stay here and as soon as the client leaves I’ll talk with him, okay?”

She seems very uncertain of this but nods her head and I take her over to sit on one of Irina’s chairs until the client leaves and Tanner is available. I don’t know if it’s my powers of persuasion or if Tanner really feels the same as do I but he says, “I never tore up her contract so if she wants to continue as though nothing happened, I’m willing. Same rates and financial conditions as before. She still has the investments intact because there hasn’t been enough time to cash them out to send the money to her. Bring her over.”

I go back to a contrite Pam and half drag her back to Tanner. A few minutes later she is again her happy self and hugging everyone, glad to be a part of the family again. “Thank you, Katrina.”

“You’re welcome, Pam. I’m really glad to see you back.”

She smiles at me as Tanner calls her over and begins to talk with her about being one of the three models going with him during the European gig.

Ten minutes later she is going out the door to start getting her things together and check on her shots. The second client and their model have arrived and things are once again going a bit crazy. An hour and a half later that session has finished and we rush out for lunch since I need to be back in time to spend three or four hours with my modeling coach.

The coach arrives on time and Tanner speaks with her prior to siccing her on me. Everything I thought I had learned and been doing has been “all wrong” so now I need to learn the proper way it is all done.

“I can’t believe you were being paid for doing everything in such a manner. Obviously the clients didn’t know any better.”

“They seemed happy with the way I was doing it. They said my manner was ‘wholesome’.”

“Wholesome is not necessarily professional. Come, he wants you ready for a major runway presentation and you will need a lot of work. Now begin like this...”

I never dreamed it could be so difficult to make everything look natural. I thought I was doing pretty well before but, nooo...

“You look like a tomboy. You don’t walk with your shoulders, you walk with your hips, like so... No, your feet go like this, remember? That turn looked like you’re a truck skidding around a corner on two wheels. Do it smmooothly, like this.”

I’m getting so confused. It’s such hard work making it look like it isn’t hard work.

To make matters worse, the new language courses arrive just minutes before my coach departs threatening never to return if I don’t practice all night. I wonder if she really means it??? Maybe I could just “forget” to practice...

Tanner bursts that bubble in a hurry as he looks up from his computer, “I see you improved a little. She’s one of the top coaches so with the rest of the week and part of Saturday I figure you’ll be doing a lot better. Your new lessons are here, by the way.”

“Gee, Thanks heaps.” I needed that vote of confidence. I’m considering throwing the engagement ring at him protection or not. NO. It’s worth too much, I’ll throw the language lessons at him.

“You’re welcome. I’ve arranged for her to go to the house the rest of the week. That way you’ll have more time to practice and to study the languages. Irina and I will get along okay here the rest of the week. Do you need a short nap or maybe a little something to eat before the Emerson shoot? We’ve got a little over an hour to kill before we need to leave.”

“I’d like to get some juice to take with us so I may sip some while we are doing the shoot but otherwise if we’re not going to be late, I’m okay.”

“Great. Then why don’t you use the computer in the office and take a look at the Russian course?”

Right. Whatever happened to, ‘Why don’t you rest for a bit and catch your second wind’?

“Tanner, I really just need a half hour to relax and think about everything I hope I just learned.”

“Oh. Yeah. That is a good idea. Maybe you could even use some of it on this shoot. We might have you walk around and take snaps on the fly as well as static stuff.”

“Thanks, Tanner.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Doesn’t this man understand facetious? No, probably not. I think I’ll hide over in Irina’s corner for a while.

“Kat? Kat! Come on, we need to get going.”

I didn’t know I went to sleep, that explains the weird dream. Somehow I need to find a way I can wake up without the shock of Tanner always telling me we need to get moving in thirty seconds. All right, so he isn’t really that bad... but almost.

I splash some water on my face in the restroom and am beginning to become aware of everything going on around me. My face looks okay so I’ll forego makeup since Irina will need to see what I’m modeling before he changes it anyway. I join them and the three of us go out to the RV where Irina puts his make up kit in the back before he checks on his mobile makeup station lights which run off the same inverter that runs all the chargers. The two batteries powering it are huge 12 volt things and Tanner has said the inverter “can power a small house for quite a few hours.” I guess a dozen or so little chargers don’t mean much to it. Irina is happy with his lights so we pack into the RV and are on our way.

“Tan? Remember I need some juice.”

“No sweat, Kat. We’ll stop on the way.”

Tan and Irina begin talking about the shoot and I learn, indirectly, that there will be eight or ten different items to model with a number of mix and matches occurring as well. That is to allow Emerson’s company a wide selection from which to choose showing Pendercot’s lines, thus giving them a greater latitude in the layout of the department store flyers as well as the posters which they will be generating. It’s still a bit difficult to realise that my face will be plastered all around the world in department stores. I hope Mom or Sis don’t make the connection. At least that possibility is still some months away.

We arrive on location where Tanner and Irina begin unloading the RV of all the equipment which is stowed inside so I will have somewhere to change and may stand up while doing it. When they finish I will actually have room to move. The makeup station swings out from the side storage unit and an awning leans down from the top of the RV on the passenger side to provide a little shelter while sides are brought out and snapped in place thus creating a small shelter/wind break. This has the effect of making the inside of the RV nice and snug.

Tanner tells me, “In colder weather, there’s even a heater which makes the inside of the RV nice and toasty. Usually the girls will huddle around in here or near the large stand up propane heater which we put up just outside. It creates a nice little bubble of heat when there is four or five inches of snow on the ground.”

“Right now, I’ll settle for my juice.”

He opens the refrigerator in the RV and lets me decide which of the two I want to drink first as he pulls out a sweet roll which he purchased back at the convenience store where we stopped enroute, “Hey, Irina. You want anything?”

“No thanks Tan. I’m good for now. Where are the other two girls?”

Tanner closes it all up again as he answers, “They should be here in a few minutes.”

I begin sipping my fruit juice as he munches his sweet roll; if I thought I could get away with it I’d grab his arm and take a bite — out of the sweet roll, I mean. In very short order he is halfway through the roll.

“Hey Kat. Would you like a bite of the roll?”

I’m licking my lips at the thought, it looks inviting.

I screw my face up in denial, tears almost coming to my eyes, “I better not. As much as I would like a nibble, that will get my sweet tooth going and I’ll want more.”

“Kat. I promise I won’t rail on you about it. You’ve been off this sort of thing for a week, cold turkey. I won’t let you start up again. Here, half of what’s left won’t kill you.”

I look at him and at the sweet roll. Half of what’s left really won’t be a lot. It’s not like I’m eating a burger and fries. I purse my lips and lick them again, “Maybe a little?”

He laughs and breaks the roll in two giving me the piece which has most of the filling in it. I close my eyes and take my first small bite... ambrosia. My whole body reacts to the taste. I just know I’m going to gain two or three pounds but just this once it’s worth it.

“Thank you, Tanner.” I take another small bite and float on the sugar high.

“You’re welcome, Kat. Here’s a paper towel so you can wipe your hands afterward.”

“Thank you.”

Taking a sip of my juice, which seemed so sweet before, I blanch at the bitterness of it. The aftermath of consuming nearly pure sugar in the form of a sweet roll. It was worth it. Besides, it’s not like my metabolism can’t slough it off. I’ve eaten three burgers a day several days in a row when I was Mac and that included the fries and a shake with each meal and I didn’t gain a thing. If I can’t eat a small part of a sweet roll without gaining weight then something’s wrong.

Tanner and Irina go to talk with Emerson’s rep to see exactly what we will be doing and the order in which we will be doing it while I wipe my hands and take another sip of my juice which isn’t quite as bitter as it tasted right after a bite of the roll. By the end of the shoot it tastes sweet again.

Emerson will be arriving to take a quick look at the shots about an hour or so into the shoot which is likely to last close to three with the lighting and outfit changes. With three of us modeling, the gaps in time between my actually posing for the camera seem much more pronounced. At the show there was always someone entering or leaving the runway. Here, everyone is more relaxed and there is more time for me to change. Since it is outdoors and the light is changing as we go, Irina must adjust our make up for the changing light and different clothing. Not drastically as yet but as more and more reds creep into the light then Tanner and Irina must change their own lighting to fill the difference and sometimes Irina makes little changes to the makeup on each of us. It’s difficult for me to understand why anyone would want to shoot outdoors, but I guess it sells clothing.

We have made great progress despite the changing times and adjustments for light. Emerson doesn’t show up until we are nearly finished. I’ve just gone out to model the last item and the other two girls are getting into their street clothes or having their makeup removed when his limo pulls up and his minions begin fawning all over him. Tanner just continues shooting pictures. Emerson takes a look at us then goes over to the desk pulled down at the side of the RV where Irina pulls up the photos so he may look through them. He point some out to his two assistants who make notes while Emerson continues to look through the images pointing and talking to his assistants.

Finally we finish with these photos and take a break, going back to the RV.

“I’m going to check with Emerson to see if anything needs to be shot over or if he wants another combination. Why don’t you wait in the passenger area of the RV while I talk with him and see if I can let the other girls leave?”

“All right. May I have my other bottle of juice?”

“Sure. No problem, Kat.”

He digs it out and then goes off to talk with Emerson who comes up with a couple of other skirt, blouse, blazer combinations he would like to see shot so Sue and I change again and we continue to add photos to the folder. We are shooting quickly now to try to keep up with the light and we manage to finish in about forty minutes.

Again Emerson is pointing and talking and his assistants are writing. Apparently his business and promotional senses are quite well developed and he generally makes very astute decisions or investments. Some of Pendercot’s labels are items Emerson promotes into countries Pendercot doesn’t service, which makes me wonder what the tie-in is there. At any rate Pendercot usually supplies to English speaking countries while Emerson also markets into much of Europe and a small portion of the former Republic of Russia as well as some of the break-away nations. It’s amazing what you can learn over the course of a week or two if you listen and don’t talk.

I’ve just finished changing when I realise Emerson is at the door of the RV which I opened only moments before. He has me cornered here at the RV for all of thirty seconds before Tanner winds up behind him.

“Are you bothering my fiancee?”

“Of course not Tanner. You know me.”

“Oh yeah. I know you all right. Anything you thought you could get away with you’d give a try.”

“Now is that any way to speak with your employer?”

“If that employer is you... Yes.”

“Careful now Tanner. You don’t want to go into contract default. I can be most difficult if that happens.”

“You’re not the only one who can become difficult and who has deep resources, Carter.”

“Oh yes, your little ‘friends’. They don’t scare me, Tanner. I get what I want and I have ‘friends’ too.”

“I know that. Mine just don’t give a damn about yours, that’s all, Carter.”

“They should, especially when it doesn’t concern them.”

“Touching her will concern them. They tend to get very upset when someone does something to one of their own.”

Carter starts at that comment, his face changes, and for the first time he turns away from me and toward Tanner.

“Exactly what is that supposed to imply, Tanner?”

“Nothing. Just if anything happens to her while we are on this tour of yours, they will immediately assume you are behind it and act accordingly.”

“I’m supposed to be frightened of that?”

“If I were you, I would be. They have a habit of not playing by the rules as you well know.”

Emerson seems to be carefully considering that which Tanner has said.

“Another time, Tanner.”

“No other time, Carter. And if I were you I’d hire some protection for Katrina here and my other two girls as well for the duration of the tour. I’ll take it a bit personally if ANYTHING were to happen to any of them. Take it out of the profits you expect to make with your Greek venture.”

The smile vanishes from Carter’s face and he looks like a snake considering if he should strike.

“What do you know about my business?”

“They know enough about it to make it very hot for you with your own agency not to mention with and for your Greek counterparts. Their competitors would likely take a very dim view of the ‘events’ the five of you are orchestrating. Try your breach of contract with me, Carter and they’ll find out. Before or after the fact doesn’t usually matter much to them.”

“You so much as whisper...”

“And what, Carter? You’re on the short end of the stick and it has a fuse which is lighted and burning. If you don’t want it to go bang anytime soon, stay away from all of my girls and stay away from Katrina in particular. I tend to play by the same rules that the Agency uses.”

“You don’t scare me Tanner.”

“I should. Just remember what happened to you in high school. There aren’t any parents or teachers around now and someone might just finish the job. Not that it isn’t deserved. I should finish it just because of what you did to Pam.”

Emerson was looking at me at the moment Tanner mentioned Pam and as my face suddenly takes on a scowl he knows I know and that I’m not pleased. I’m really considering borrowing that little... pistol and playing with Emerson for a bit. I wish I could get away with it.

Emerson does a double take at the murder in my eyes and I suppose that isn’t something he’s accustomed to seeing coming from one of the girls he wants to seduce. I take two steps in his direction and he retreats like he’s been burned.

“Well Tanner, I think we will not require your services for the European shoot after all. I’ll have my attorney’s contact yours to work something out.”

“Fine with me but have your hand holders contact the Agency since they are involved. Or did you think Katrina here, was going on the shoot out of the goodness in her heart?”

“You’ve got something going down during the tour?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes there are several somethings, as I understand it. One or two are for the agency you say you represent. I wonder why that would be? Don’t they trust you anymore, Carter? Maybe you’ve been straying a bit too far off the reservation if they need to call in a clean up squad. Mind your P’s and Q’s over there Carter. You never know what might wind up in our reports. See you around, Carter. Up on all your shots?”

Emerson’s face nearly turns white then it is replaced by rage and he storms off entering his limo and slamming the door. It nearly leaves before the assistants can get in.

Now that things are calming down I am a bundle full of questions which I know better than to ask while we’re here. But Tanner better watch out once we get home because I’m going to drag him downstairs if I have to and get some of my questions answered.

to be continued

Lost in the middle of a foggy sea

Hanging the last of the clothing on the rack, I return to see what assistance I may to Tanner and Irina who have been disassembling everything and gradually moving it over to the RV. Going over, I begin to place some of the lighter items into their places on the shelves, plugging them into the power strips as I go.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Getting in and out, and in and out of the RV while in heels isn’t all that easy. I need to remember to put a pair of flats or tennies in here somewhere so I can wear something comfortable while I help.

Once all the items are in place and plugged in, I move out of the way so the two strong boys may put the lights and larger things into the RV. The make up station is swung in and a few things moved a little to make room for it then the awning is rolled up after the sides have been stowed again. Meanwhile the Emerson people have packed up and departed.

All the cables and some of the items are stowed in the underbody lockers until finally there is one last tour to check for anything which may have been forgotten despite the check off list. Yea, we’re on our way.

Back at the studio, the RV is parked inside the garage and it is plugged in to bring the batteries back up to charge. The trip back helped accomplish some of that as well but our trips are so short there really isn’t a lot of charge returned to the batteries. There is a generator on board but it is seldom used except for short times to keep it operational. Tanner told me it has less than a hundred hours on it for the entire two years he has been using the RV.

“Before I had the large battery bank installed I used the generator. The battery bank is a lot less expensive to operate for my uses. I can charge the battery bank and my equipment for about fifty-five cents or less from the power outlet. To do that with the generator would cost about five fifty in gas.”

Since tomorrow is payday Tanner goes into the office to do his book keeping. Irina says good-bye for the day and goes out, jumping into his car to head home which leaves me with nothing to do but practice my modeling techniques and to take a sneak preview of the course in Russian torture. The language — the language. I’m supposed to understand this?

By the time Tanner comes out of his office an hour later, I think I’ve figured out how to say ‘hello’ and ‘where are the restrooms?’ Well, not literally but their equivalent.

Tanner isn’t terribly impressed but concedes that the questions might be important ones for both myself and the other girls.

“Okay, Kat. Let’s get home. Bring your courses with you.”

“All right. I have a request, however. I would like to do a little...” I use my hands and imitate shooting a gun with them, “before supper practice.”

He looks at me a little funny. “Okay. I think we can do that. Just don’t get too loud or the neighbors will complain.”

I look at him in confusion since I thought the room downstairs was soundproofed then it hits me what it is he is referring to and I turn beet red.

“NO! I MEAN...”

“Relax, Kat. I know what you mean.”

He’s just pulling my chain, and successfully too. I can see why his sister gets so exasperated with him.

We arrive home where I go to my room to change before going out to the kitchen to locate a pair of rubber gloves just in case we actually spend time shooting which means I will also spend time cleaning the... pistol. Give me a few weeks and I’ll remember the word. The difference between a pistol (semi-automatic) and a revolver having been impressed upon my brain since I mistakenly called it a revolver. I was trying to impress Tanner and I did, just not the way I had intended.

He took me through a ‘some revolvers are pistols but not all pistols are revolvers’ rule. Just to confuse me further he showed me pictures of rifles which are revolvers. Does it matter? They all shoot bullets, or am I mistaken there too?

Finally he leads the way to the bedroom and as he closes the door I turn red again when I see the bed and only begin to retreat to my normal colouring when he opens the bookcase and we begin to go down the hall.

Eventually we are down in the ‘range’ and he is getting everything together as I begin to tell him the real reason I wanted to come down here.

“You said it was safe to talk down here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I really don’t want to shoot. I want to talk.”

“About what?”

“You, Pendercot, Emerson and the photo studio.”

“There isn’t much to say.” He is purposely being evasive.

“You said, ‘Don’t say things at the studio which we need to keep secret’.”

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“Why is it right?”

“Don’t be evasive. Why can’t we talk at the studio. Is it... ‘bugged’, I think is the word.”

“It could be. So it’s safer just not to say anything there.”

“Is that why you had to make my request seem more like a vulgar question?”

“Partially. Can I help it when you give me such a luscious lead in?”

“Hmmm. Down to business. I gather from the conversation you had with Emerson that you and he have history going back to high school. Why and what is that?”

“None of your business, Kat.”

“You made it my business when you inferred to Emerson that I worked for the same Agency to whom you happen to claim allegiance, whoever that might happen to be. If I really worked there I would be aware of the relationship. Wouldn’t it seem a little strange that I don’t if he begins to cautiously probe my background knowledge?”

Tanner looks like he wants to chew nails and spit out tacks. He takes at least a minute making faces before he begins to talk.

“Carter was just as much a womanizer when he was in high school as he is now. He made it a point of getting the girlfriends of guys he didn’t like to go out with him. His gift of gab quickly convinced them to jump into the sack with him and he would make them pregnant. He would wear a condom but he usually would put a hole in it before he put it on. The girls knew he was wearing a condom and didn’t think that they would become pregnant. My girlfriend was one of the ones who killed herself when she found out. I and two others nearly killed Carter. We should have finished the job later. He’s still slime.”

“So that’s the issue between you and Carter?”

“Not completely. He tried to make it look like I was the one who made her pregnant and then also tried to tie me to his beating.”

“I take it he wasn’t successful?”

“No. But some of the stigma stayed with me while he got away with it scot free.”

I nod my head, “So it wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings if he accidentally dropped dead one day?”

“Not if it couldn’t be traced back to an agency nor to us.”

“Couldn’t that be arranged? What about his business partners? Could it be traced to them instead? Then maybe whatever this ‘business’ deal is could be a double hit instead of taking just him?”

“His agency wouldn’t like it.”

“Which one is his Agency?”

“I’m not at liberty to divulge that.”

“Which one is your agency.”

“Same answer.”

“You must answer that one. If I’m supposed to be from them, I would know who they are and, apparently, so does Emerson. Besides, I need some way of contacting them while we are in Europe just in case something happens and I think he would love to see something happen to you.”

“I’ll talk with them about that and give you an answer before we go. Don’t expect them to say okay.”

“Why do the two agencies dislike each other so much?”

“Not something you need to know.”

“I do so. What if Emerson does something to get you temporarily out of the way and then comes after me or the girls? What do I do? Who do I contact? So many different things could happen and he could deny it all. I want a gun while we are in Europe.”

“NO. N. O. No. You’re not an agent and you don’t know how to get rid of one if you had to use it. Don’t push this, Kat.”

“You made Emerson think I’m an Agent. He obviously will have passed that on by now or you don’t know how to read people very well. I’m now at risk because of things you said to try to frighten Emerson into leaving me alone. Not only am I at risk but so are the girls. I want a gun.”

“I’ll bring it up, but between now and then you need to learn a lot more about how to use one. You need to learn more Russian and you need to learn more about modeling. You have only four days to do all that so you need to stay here at the house and put in the hours.”

“Fine with me. Show me how to open the bookcase and I’ll even come down here and practice. And I’ll spend as much time as I can on the Russian. Now, what are these Russian and Greek ties of Emerson’s and how do they now affect me? Are they legitimate endeavors or are they criminal?”

“Knowing Carter the way I do, I’d say they are likely criminal but difficult to prove. He’s a wizard at financial matters.”

“So he’s likely to be laundering money or showing someone else how to do it.”

“Probably not that so much as showing them where and how to invest their money to achieve some specific goal.”

“Does he have a history of criminal behavior?”

“I’d say so. Starting in high school. He’s always been VERY careful to cover his tracks and he’s become very good at it.”

“So why does some American agency protect him?”

“He’s one of their better money men.”

“Money man. What’s that?”

“Just what it sounds like. The agencies are given funds to operate. His agency gives some of those funds to him and he comes back roughly six months later with the same amount plus the original. He won’t tell them how he does it and they don’t care. Last year he handled about two hundred million for them. That’s not a lot, but for one money man it is the largest amount to be handled. There are hints, whispers out there that he used it in the heroin and cocaine trades into locations in Europe but we weren’t able to trace any of it. There are also hints that they intend to give him nearly five hundred million to play with this year. The man is dangerous and he doesn’t care about anyone except himself. The money base he has personally is growing a little too fast to be sole source in the garment trade. Further, there are rumors of some player in the drug trade who is coming up with larger and larger amounts of cash. We think it’s Emerson.”

“So why not just take him out and forget about him?”

“He actually is an operative for his agency. They would become, shall we say, a bit upset over his loss. Upset enough to start an Agency to Agency war.”

“So make a few deals in Emerson’s name which accidentally are traced back to him. Then have his own people kill him to avoid the backlash from the exposure. Or maybe do almost the same thing but make it look like he is taking a large portion of the pie and getting them angry with him. The best thing that could happen is they kill him and the worst is that they just take him down a notch or two.”

“That’s been tried. If we do it again, the first people they’ll think of is us.”

“What if some girl he rapes, kills him?”

“Her life wouldn’t be worth a plugged nickel.”

“But he would be dead.”

“So would the girl.”

“There has to be a way to take him off the streets. I still need to have some way of contacting your agency while we are in Europe and I need to know more about all this so I may intelligently avoid Emerson’s questions if they come.”

“For now you just study. And study hard. I’ll see what I can do to get answers for you. Now, since we’re down here and you brought your cleaning gloves...”

I roll my eyes but nod my head in acceptance and he begins to hand me the stuff to carry over to the bench and it’s shelf while he brings a new target to put on the carrier.

I did just as badly this evening as I did the other day. That sliding thing frightens me the way it flies back over my hand when I fire the pistol and then it slams back forward again. If that wasn’t happening then I probably would do better. I always want to dodge just in case it comes off and flies back at me. I can’t aim properly because I’m trying to stay out of it’s probable path should it ever decide to do so. At least I always hit the paper and within a few inches of the center. Tanner thinks I would do very well if I could get over this fear. Giving the whole matter some thought, he decides he wants us to fly out early Saturday so he may take me to some place in Virginia to try shooting on Sunday before we take off Monday afternoon.

The next morning Tanner wakens me and has me get ready before he leaves for the studio. The modeling coach will be coming here the rest of the week and I need to decide what I’m going to be taking with me Saturday morning. After the coach leaves then I’m to go down and practice shooting until I’ve used a full two boxes of bullets. He expects me to clean the pistol properly and he will check it when he returns in the late afternoon or evening. I’m to study Russian the rest of the time until he gets back. So obviously I have nothing to do each day. OH, and somewhere in there I need to prepare supper, not to mention lunch.

Each day progresses with me better able to fit my role of a model and by the end of my lesson Friday my coach says, “You are actually beginning to put into practice that which I’ve been teaching you. Three or four more months and you might even be a professional. As it is you are leaps and bounds beyond where you were when we began Tuesday. When you return from your trip contact me and we shall continue this. You show great promise. We may make a super model out of you yet.”

Somehow I think that was an order and not a request. I wonder if he is part of the same agency Tanner works for?

Now... Just in case, I begin packing. I go to my room after setting the alarm and begin getting my things together and into my luggage. Some of it is easy. The dresses and the gown are already in carriers and much of my lingerie is easy to pack into a suitcase. Just carefully lift it from the drawer and put it in the case. I am taking all sixteen unopened pairs of stockings as well as two delicate’s bags and I hope the hotels will be able to launder most of my things. I will still need to do some things myself and then hang them to dry. There must be a better way, so I will talk with the other girls to find out about that. The other... I’ll talk with the girls about it. Two hours later, I’m packed and go back out to study my Russian. If I hadn’t spent so much time trying to decide why I keep classing myself with the girls, I could probably have packed in less than an hour.

Tanner isn’t happy with my progress on the Russian but my gosh, I’ve only had four days. What does he want, a linguist? I know I won’t be able to carry on a conversation nor will I be likely to be able to understand much but at least I have most of the basics down. It isn’t like the Dutch which was much easier. This just isn’t flowing for me. After two hours of Russian pounding in my head, I need a break and think about going down to shoot for a little while but decide against it. Instead I change my alarm so I may take a short nap. Then I will look at my Dutch some more. I would like to make it to the end of the first series of lessons and I have only two more to go. Besides I haven’t studied the Dutch in five days.

Peeling myself off the ceiling as I think about throwing the alarm across the room, I shut it off wishing my hour and a half was just beginning instead of just ending. Finally finding myself in the kitchen, I pull a bottle of juice from the fridge and go back to continue my Dutch. It goes very nicely and in an hour I have finished my lesson set. Now if I meet someone who speaks Dutch, I will actually be able to carry on a conversation at greater than the fifth grade level. According to the program I am sufficiently fluent to be accepted as having spent some time speaking the language. I can’t answer for my accent as that will need to be decided by someone who is fluent in the language other than the native speakers who are recorded in the course. How can a computer program decide if I’m speaking like a native? At least I will be able to speak with someone coherently.

I still have several hours so I am again debating about going down to the range when Tanner arrives home early.

“Hi Kat. Have you been down to the range today?”

“No. I was just thinking about it. After my coach left I spent a couple of hours on the Russian, then took a nap and finished my Dutch lessons. If you want me to understand more then we need to order the next level of the Dutch.”

“Okay, I’ll do that when we get back. You need to get packed we are leaving tonight on the red-eye.”

“I’m packed; just need to take a shower and change. Why are we leaving early?”

He comes over to me as he says, “The whole thing got moved up a bit because we need a little extra time for the publicity shots.” Then he leans over to my ear and whispers, “There’s someone who wants to meet and talk with you before we leave the country.”

“Do you have your passport and shots record in your purse? You’ll need quick access to those.”

“OH. No, I packed them. I’ll go take care of that right now.”

“Good. You might take your shower and get dressed now as well. I’ve got a couple of things to take care of in my office and then I’ll do the same.”

“Okay.” I go off to my room and dig out my passport and shot record placing them into my purse then get out the clothes I plan on wearing for traveling and go to take a shower.

I’m out and getting dressed when Tanner drops by my room knocking at the door, “may I come in, Kat?”

“Yes. I’m decent.”

He enters my room and takes a look, “You’re more than decent Kat. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, kind Sir.”

“I moved up our flight. I found one leaving at eight so if you think you’ll be ready by six we could make that one.”

I glance at the clock which I had contemplated destroying only hours before.

“I should easily be ready by then.”

“Good. I’ll order a cab and then take my shower and get dressed. We’ll check into a hotel when we get there so you may change into a skirt suit. Then we’ll take care of a few things before we meet the girls and Irina on Sunday.”

“Okay. The water should be hot by now so have fun.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Not unless you want another slap for becoming fresh with your fiancee before we’re married.”

“I think I’ll forego that. Maybe just a kiss and then I’m off to accomplish great things.”

“I hope a shower is included in that list.”

“Madam, you wound me.”

“I warned you before, I need a knife if you want me to do that.”

“As discretion is the better part of valour, I think I’ll be satisfied with a kiss and be on my way.”

“All right.” I gave him a hug too, just in case the house is bugged with video cameras.

Twenty minutes later Tanner has returned. He’s in different clothes and smells like he took a shower but how he could have arranged for a cab, showered and dressed in twenty minutes I’ll never know. Well... He didn’t shave, obviously. I suppose he plans on doing that at the hotel. As we ride to the airport he gives me a bit of a rundown for our trip. He expects us to arrive at the hotel around one or one thirty. We will have time for a nap and then breakfast there before going on to a meeting at eight. That will likely take most of the morning and might actually become several meetings. A lot will depend on the first one.

During the afternoon we may be spending some time at a farm before returning to the hotel. I find it a bit curious that I’m not going to have time to change out of the skirt suit before going to the farm. I would rather wear something I should think would be more appropriate. If the farm has horses I would like to have the opportunity to begin to learn to ride since I’ve wanted to do that for years. Maybe when we return I may convince him to take me somewhere so I could learn to ride a horse.

We arrive at the airport and check in. Our luggage is quickly handled and the photographic equipment has already shipped on an ATA carnet so we will pick it up when we arrive in Europe carrying it with us as we travel on tour. It will then be shipped back to the US after the tour is finished. Even my little personal digital camera, CD-MP 3 player, and notebook computer have a travel document which goes so far as to list the models and serial numbers of everything, even so far as to list my jewelry. That travel document is added to the passport and shot record already in my purse.

We are given our tickets and go to spend the next twenty minutes trying to get through the security measures so we may board our plane. When one of the agents tried to confiscate my camera and notebook computer just ten minutes into the game, Tanner shows him something and suggests if he really wants to keep his job he will turn around and leave us alone. We were passed through very quickly after that and the other agents looked at us like we were tigers looking for their next meal and they might be the appetizers.

Maybe there is something to being a spy after all. I always thought spies didn’t want to be noticed but maybe something could be put on their passports so people will know to leave them alone. Then again maybe there is. We didn’t show them our passports. Or at least I didn’t. I don’t know what Tanner showed the one agent. Whatever it was, it frightened him. I’m beginning to think I want something like that if I’m going to be traveling very much.

to be continued

Most people long for another island

We entered the first class lounge where we relaxed for a while before boarding the plane for our short trip.

Soon we were up and it seemed like a very short time before we were down again. Actually only about two hours, one of which we lost to a time change. We collected our things and were out looking for our ride long before midnight.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

One of Tanners friends has come to pick us up and we ride in the car about forty minutes before arriving at a low ranch style establishment which I presume is the hotel. It seems a bit small to be a hotel and I mention this to Tanner who tells me it is rather exclusive and caters to a very special clientele.

We are treated quite well and soon are in our rooms. Mine is across the hall from his and we will receive a wake up call about six so we may sleep for a while. Breakfast is at seven which seems a little strange to me since usually we would pick the time for our breakfast. It must have something to do with the exclusive and special concept. Another thing which seems strange is when we checked in, they had me place my right thumb on this little gadget like they use when you get a driver’s license. Then they didn’t issue me a room door card but the door has a similar thumb reader next to it and when I place my thumb on it the door unlocks for five seconds. There is another one on the inside, so the door is always locked except during those five second intervals when it may be opened.

The remainder of the night does not go well for me as I once again have some of my nightmares. These mostly are coupled with the new events in my life and one particularly nasty one occurs in which Emerson turns into my Dad and proceeds to beat the crap out of me again. I could feel every blow and just knew when I woke up I would be covered in cuts and bruises. The rib which was broken when I was about ten was broken again and that hurt.

The phone shrills at me and after I pick up the handset from the floor where I accidentally knocked the phone as I tried to answer it. I tell them I’m awake and up, thanking them for waking me. I put the phone back onto the night stand before going into the bathroom to see how badly my body has been punished. I don’t find a mark and my rib feels okay but the memory of the dream lingers. Especially since I seldom dream in colour and last night was in full vivid technocolour with the injuries in wonderful embellishment.

I’m almost afraid to use the toilet since I expect to see blood in my urine. If I haven’t mentioned it before, the sight of my own blood frightens me half to death. I’m whimpering as I both try to and try not to urinate. Everything comes out clear of blood and there is no significant pain except for the mental stress. I clean up a bit and get dressed after brushing my hair twice as long as normal. That, fortunately, is the only residue of my dreams. That and a slight crick in my neck. I suppose I slept on my head all night. I’m still tired.

I put on some light makeup and call Tanner’s room to see if he’s ready. He is, of course, and meets me in the hall less than a minute later leading me down to breakfast which turns out to be a smorgasbord of sorts. I load up on fruit with a little eggs, slice of ham and a glass of milk for which Tan gives me a scowl. He loads up on nearly everything including the potatoes which I’m not allowed to eat.

Looking around the room I see it is mostly men with about a fifth of those present being women. I’m the only one in a skirt suit. The others look like they are in some kind of jump suit and a couple are wearing webbed belts like you see the military wearing in the old movies. Some of them are looking at me like they are wondering why I’m in a skirt but no one is talking. This is probably one of the quietest breakfasts I’ve ever been to except for when I’ve been eating alone.

The others finish quickly and depart just as rapidly as they arrived. Tanner has nearly finished his breakfast which was at least twice as much food as I’m eating. I have nearly finished as well, the last bite of ham and a few swallows of milk and I may call breakfast a done deal.

We dump our trays as I follow Tanner’s lead and we are on our way back to our rooms to pick up a few little things before our meeting or meetings. We meet back in the hall and Tanner tells me to put my notebook and camera back in my room, “You won’t need those and can’t take them into the building anyway.”

I comply and return to go with him to our meeting.

~O~
“So you’re the famous Katrina? Glad to meet you. I’m Antonio de Carlille. Everyone calls me Tony.” He waves dismissively as he says the last, then grasps my hand a little hard and shakes it like mad.

“Take a seat, take a seat,” He says as he goes back around behind his desk while I’m investigating my bruised hand to see if it’s still connected to my wrist.

“Your photo’s don’t do you justice young lady. You’re quite stunning in person.”

My photos? How did he see my... Oh, this must be one of the prospective clients. Why didn’t Tanner tell me we were meeting a client?

“Tanner, you sly fox, trust you to pick all the pretty ones.”

“She’s smart too, Tony. Smart enough to work her way through the salad dressing you’re dishing out.”

By now my mind has once again started working and I put a situation to the name ‘Tony’.

“Are you the same Tony who Tanner called when we were having a bit of difficulty with a certain issue?”

“I warned you Tony...”

Now Mr. de Carlille suddenly becomes a bit more subdued and businesslike.

“She is, isn’t she?.. Do you think he really has a chance of pulling this,” as he indicates me, “off for any length of time?”

“Tony, don’t be rude. HER name is Katrina and SHE is a female.”

“Right. Right. You know what will happen to him if he’s discovered.”

At this point I’ve had quite enough, “Mr. de Carlille, you’re an ass,” I get up from the chair and begin to walk to the door. Tanner is following me a few moments later and when I reach the door it won’t open.

“You can’t leave until I buzz you out.” Tony snaps at us. “We’re not done here.”

I turn around and walk back, again with Tanner following as I lean over Tony’s desk, “Yes, ‘TONY’ we are.” I slap him good and hard. My hand stings but his head recoils from my slap and I know he is going to be wearing my hand print on the side of his face for a day or two.

I walk back to the door which still won’t open for me so I kick it, “unlock this door.” I say at the same time as Tanner says, “I warned you, Tony. But nooo. You had to do it the hard way. Happy now?”

“With her reactions, yes. With the slap, no but I suppose I deserved it for making her think I was such a cad.”

I’m still over at the door and I kick it once more when it suddenly opens inward and knocks me down. I scream as I fall, and the two men who just rushed in halt and turn to look behind the door even as I’m just landing in a heap. Tanner rushes over to help me up. Tony waves at them, “It’s okay, just a little misunderstanding.” They take another look at me and go back out closing the door again.

“If you treat all women like this, I’m surprised you’re still in one piece MR. de Carlille.”

“If all the women were like you I probably wouldn’t be. Have a seat, Kat. No more name calling, you passed my test.”

“You need to figure out a test which entails a little less physical or mental trauma.” I’m still working the fingers of the hand I used to slap him. I’m beginning to think I got the short end of the deal.

“I will happily take that under advisement. You slap rather hard.”

“I tried to put a lot into it... and, no, I’m not going to come around to kiss it and make it better.”

He laughs at that. “She has a good attitude, Tanner. Awfully young, but I see a lot of potential.”

“I told you, Tony, and she’s not as young as some who have gone through the farm.. You also saw her targets. She did well even though the report of the weapon and the recoil slide both frighten her.”

“How much does she know for certain?”

“Too much. She’s pretty smart.”

“HELLO. I am sitting here you know. You may talk with me and I am capable of answering.”

“That’s not a good sign, Tanner. She doesn’t take to authority well.”

“She’s new at the whole thing and doesn’t know to keep quiet while her superiors are talking.”

I lean over and blow in Tanner’s ear as he says that. He jerks back looking at me, “And she has absolutely no respect for a case manager. Especially her own.”

Tony laughs at my antic, “rough around the edges but good attitude and potential. When you get back from Europe I want her to spend six weeks on the farm.”

“Are there horses?”

They both look at me with a little confusion.

“Farm?... horses... chickens... dogs... cats... What kind of farm is this if it doesn’t have animals? I’d like to learn to ride a horse. Tell me you have a horse there.”

“Ah... It isn’t that kind of a farm, Miss Van Derholt.”

“Oh... So what kinds of crops do they raise there and how does being on a farm help me with my modeling?”

“I think I’ll let Tanner explain all that to you a little later today. Okay, Tan. I approve. Take her to the next level and stick with her today. I’ll talk with you some more tonight after we get in some of the results.”

“Thanks, Tony. Oh, by the way, you look really good with that red palm print on your face. Better not let Grace see it or else come up with a really good explanation.”

“I’ll have a copy of the surveillance tape made and show it to her.”

“Good luck. If you have a matching set tomorrow before we leave, I’ll know it didn’t work. See you Tony.”

“Not if I see the two of you first.”

Tanner escorts me to the door and this time it opens easily. We exit and the two watchdogs are still out in the lobby where they and the receptionist watch us leave. I look daggers at the one who slammed the door open in my face as we walk by and Tanner keeps a strong hold on my arm so I don’t pull away to slap the Neanderthal.

“Sorry ma’am.” he calls after me.

I brighten a little at that and nod my acceptance then we are out the second door and into the hall. We go down two flights and outside after dropping off my visitor’s badge. A car pulls up like the driver knew we were coming. We get in and are off only to stop and get out less than ten minutes later.

~O~
“Well. Is this the young lady we are going to process? Come with me dear.”

I look at Tanner and he just gives me shooing motions so I follow the woman deeper into the building where they take a number of photographs then bundle me down to a clinic where they take X-rays which come up on a computer screen... no film. They are quite interested in my ribs and some of my other anatomy taking a number of screens before they finish and allow me to go back out where they draw a couple of vials of my blood, nearly causing me to pass out. They even X-rayed my teeth like I was at the dentist.

Feeling thoroughly poked and prodded, I happily depart with Tanner and we go next to the place to which he had promised to bring me, the range.

It is considerably different than the one under the house. Here the targets look much more like people and they are able to travel in several directions as well as simply remain stationary. A couple of hours later I’m actually able to hit the targets while they are moving. I even had a chance to fire this strange looking pistol. After it went “pfitt” instead of “bang” I figured out the funny thing at the front of it is a silencer. It didn’t look much like the ones I saw in the movies but it did a good job. Now the only thing which frightens me is that slide part coming at me.

Aiming a pistol with one of those silencers on it is a bit different than when we were shooting downstairs at the house. After a half hour I’m getting pretty good again. It must be my imagination but the slide thing seems to be moving slower and I can almost imagine I can see the bullets. There were a few times at the house when I could have sworn the bullets hit the target before they left the pistol.

As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m getting hungry and tell Tanner I could really use a restroom and some food. We cut it short and leave about ten minutes later. We turn in the guns as we leave. For once I don’t need to clean them. After lunch he drops me off to take some tests which make me think of college entrance exams. I usually do pretty well on these things so I try to remember the few answers I got wrong several months ago and sure enough there are a few of the same questions which, this time, I’m certain I got right.

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Tony.

The tests took about two hours and when the three of us who are taking the tests finish Tanner is there to pick me up again. Now we go back to the hotel and he tells me to practice my Russian some more while he goes for another meeting with Tony. I’m just as happy, if I don’t see Tony again it will be too soon.

Russian still isn’t clicking with me. I don’t know why. I hope it isn’t too important for my modeling career. It’s a little early for supper but I’m hungry so I take my purse and go down to the restaurant to have a little something to hold me until Tanner gets back. They have fruit and some meat patties so I place a little of each on my tray and pick up my silverware and a napkin along with a glass of water then go out to the nearly empty room and take a seat.

I’m well into my repast when this man sits down at my table. I look around and note there are plenty of empty tables around. That’s when he gives me his pick up line, “Hi Laural, it is Laural isn’t it. Sorry I’m late but I got hung up on the way back from the farm. Supper looks good tonight...”

I interrupt him, “I’m sorry. I don’t know you and...”

“Oh sorry. Yes I guess you wouldn’t. I’m Gregory.”

“Mr. Gregory...

“No, that’s just Gregory. I’m your case worker.”

Again I look at him like he’s mad, which he probably is.

“Mr. Gregory, if you don’t leave my table I’ll scream.”

“That’s a good line. I’ll have to remember...”

I scream, good and loud attracting the attention of the two others who are in the dining room as well as a couple of men who come in from the hall. By now I’m standing and so is Mr. Gregory. I back away from the table to give myself some running room and begin to think many of the people here must be stark raving mad.

“Now, Laural. Enough’s enough. Sit down like a good girl and behave yourself.”

Mr. Gregory looks like he’s beginning to become angry. He’s about to learn that I am also capable of that. I slap him a good one which nearly knocks him to the ground. He regains his balance and points at me indicating to the two men who have approached our table to hold me.

“Laural you’ve got to stop that. I won’t be likely to give you a good report if you continue this.”

“I’m... NOT... this Laural person.”

“No? And I suppose you’re Anastasia?”

“Who’s Anastasia? I’m Katrina Van Derholt.”

“Oh, all right Laural. You’re really Katrina.” He says in a condescending way.

“I can prove it. Let me into my purse.”

He motions for them to let me go so I may ‘prove’ it.

I pull out my passport and driver’s license which bear me out. This confuses him a bit until he brightens and says, “Oh... I get it. Your cover.”

“Cover? What’s a cover?”

They are all looking at me a bit funny now.

“Someone call hotel security, I want these people arrested.” I call to some of the staff at the serving counter.

Mr. Gregory and the two men look at each other and then at me and smiles break out on their faces as they laugh a little.

“As soon as Tanner gets here I’ll have him prosecute.” Then as an afterthought, “and Mr. de Carlille, too.”

At this, Mr. Gregory checks the other two, “You know Tony? How do you know Tony?”

“My fiancee, Mr. Hamersley introduced us earlier today.”

“That’s easy to check. Phil, would you put in a call for de Carlille?”

One of the two large men goes off to do that as Gregory sits down at the table again, “Would you have a seat, Please? This may all be a case of mistaken identity. I’m Gregory. I came here to collect... er... to meet someone named Laural and since you were the only woman here wearing a skirt I thought you were her.”

The man comes back and whispers in Mr. Gregory’s ear. He glances up at the man who nods his head then turns back to me, “My apologies Miss Van Derholt. Your passport and driver’s license,” as he hands them back to me. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to leave your room without escort?”

“I’m a big girl, Mr. Gregory. I know how to walk to a restaurant and then back to my room without any accompaniment. If I want to go for a walk outside the hotel, I know how to do that also. I AM quite capable in that regard despite what some males may think.”

“How long have you been here, if I may ask?” He made it seem more like a command.

“My fiancee and I arrived late last night as he wanted to introduce me to a new client, Mr. de Carlille.”

“A new client?”

“I’m a model and we are about to go on a tour of portions of Europe. My fiancee Mr. Hamersley wanted to stop and see this new client as well as show me a farm while we were here and before we continue on to Europe.”

“And did he show you this ‘farm’.”

“No. We just went to a shooting range so I could practice some more and we went to another clinic to take more X-rays.”

He gets this strange expression on his face, “And your fiancee is Mr. Hamersley?”

“Yes. I’m her fiancee. What’s this I hear about you causing a problem, Gregory?”

“Tanner, old chap. Sorry about that. I thought this charming young woman was one of my new students. I’m afraid I came off a bit like a masher.”

“You tend to do that with the ladies anyway, Gregory. Katrina, this charming character is Gregory. Gregory, Katrina Van Derholt, one of my models.”

“Pleased to meet you Katrina. Sorry we got off to such a rocky start.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t slap you.”

“She did.” he says as he gently rubs his face, “She can put a lot of effort into it.”

“That’s what de Carlille told me this evening.”

“Tony? She slapped Tony? I hope it didn’t leave a mark or he’s going to have a rough time of it with his wife this evening.”

“He’s planning on taking a copy of some of the surveillance of his office with him as proof.”

“Smart move. You’re a brave woman to be slapping Tony.” he says to me.

“If someone insults me then they deserve to be slapped.”

“I see. Then I take it you have slapped Tanner at one time or another?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact I have.”

“She’s got a lot of spunk, Tanner. Thinking of the program?”

“Possibly. If we can get her to calm down enough. I’d hate to have her shooting the instructor’s just because they insult her.”

Gregory winces, “Yes. I’d certainly appreciate that before she comes to my parts of the course work. How did she do on the range, if I may ask?”

“Not bad. Took her about an hour to figure out how to handle the random movement and then she began to hit every one.”

“She’s already up to random movement?”

“We started there. She was X ring on static stuff at 50 so we thought it might be a little more fun for her.”

“Fun?? Okay. I don’t think I want to know. She doesn’t happen to be related to you by blood does she? Er... No I suppose not since she’s your fiancee. If she goes through the courses I’d appreciate it if they would take a little extra time to verify she doesn’t have any weapons with her prior to my classes.”

He turns to me offering his hand. I take it and he gently shakes my hand, “pleased to have made your acquaintance, Katrina, even though we got off to a rocky start.” Turning to leave, “Take care Tanner, see you later. Ah, that may be my wayward student.” He’s off across the room and accosting yet another young woman whom I suppose must be the elusive Laural because after speaking with her he sits down at her table.

I turn back to Tanner, “He’s a strange man.”

“He’s okay. Just usually preoccupied with his teaching.”

“What does he teach?”

“He’s a bit involved with a number of current events.”

“Don’t any of you ever answer a question directly rather than always making oblique references?”

Tanner screws up his face as though in deep consideration before smiling and replying, “Seldom, if ever.” He laughs which causes me to smile.

“All right Katrina. What brought you to the ‘restaurant’ unescorted?”

“Hunger.”

“Reasonable answer.”

“I’m always reasonable.”

“Within limits.”

“Well. Yes, I suppose it might seem that way to someone who acts unreasonably with me.”

“Was he unreasonable?”

“Let’s just say I was about to have him arrested but I couldn’t find an officer to do it.”

“Kat, you’ve simply got to give people a little more benefit of a doubt.”

“Why? My father never did it for me, so I’m twice as gun shy.”

“Yes... I’m sorry about that, Kat. It’s too bad he never took the time to learn what a great daughter he had.”

“He wasn’t, and isn’t interested in knowing. Let’s just say he will never be invited to my wedding, and I have no intention of attending his funeral which cannot happen too soon.”

to be continued

One where they know they would like to be

Tan goes through the selections figuring he may as well have supper since we are both here and it’s available. I con him into bringing back a little more of the cottage cheese with a peach half and another of the meat patties for me. A fiancee can be a good thing at times.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

We discuss the unescorted thing with me doing most of the discussing. It’s all rather moot now anyway since we will be leaving in the morning.

“Just please wait for me before going to breakfast, Kat. I’d get a blue badge for you but since we are only going to be here long enough for breakfast it would really be a waste of time.”

“A blue badge. What is this place? And the farm everyone talks about really isn’t a farm is it?”

“Well, yes it is; but no, it isn’t.”

“That’s what I love about all of you, definitive answers.”

“Come on, Kat. I know you’ve figured it out. Why do I need to spell it out?”

“Does your sister know?”

Tanner reacts to that almost as badly as if I slapped him before he answers, “No. She doesn’t know. And to protect her I act like I’m a bit of a moron when I’m around her so she doesn’t pick up on it. I’d appreciate it if you don’t let on to her.”

I look at him a moment then pretend to zip my mouth shut as I smile at him.

“Thanks, Kat. It can be a bit of a concern at times.”

“How many others know? Any of your girls or Irina?”

“None of the girls. Irina thinks I’m a free lancer of some kind but doesn’t know everything.”

“So why me?”

“Because you’re smart and you have a lot of potential...”

“And because I’m a guy under all this?”

“No! That is... No, that’s not part of it. I think of you as a girl now anyway. I just think you have an aptitude which would allow you to easily fit in and you’re smart enough to be able to put two and two together and not come up with three. I think with some training, four to six weeks of preliminary stuff maybe, you could be an asset and together we could pull and handle some of the heavier jobs. We could still use the model/ photographer cover and go places and do things that most of the single agents couldn’t do. Later if that seems to work out we might put you through a couple of the four month sessions And I like to work with you. I’m kind of sorry we aren’t really engaged.”

The last sentence doesn’t sink in right away since I’m still digesting all the one’s preceding it. Finally I get to the last part and realise what he said giving him a shy smile before looking away. He reaches out and draws my hand up, leaning over and kissing it then continues to hold it for a bit.

“Sometimes I’m sorry I’m not a girl, Tanner. Other times I look at this body and begin cursing. I’m still in a toss-up as to which I am and where I want to go. I still don’t have my answers worked out and I thought I did at one time. All this new information is hard to handle. Once I decide what I’m going to do then I hope things become easier. Right now the idea of becoming a girl still bothers me, but not as much as it did. Now I think it’s partially because either way I go, I can’t have kids. I don’t see the answer appearing any time soon but if I do decide to be a girl, I’ll consider the additional possibility of us being engaged. For now it’s just a convenience.”

“I understand. I just ask one thing... While we are in Europe, don’t refer to yourself as possibly being male no matter when or where we happen to be.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal.”

Tanner smiles at me and kisses my hand again.

“Finished with your supper? We better retire as you’ve got some studying to do.”

I drooped my shoulders and rolled my eyes upward as I shook my head, but I get up and follow him, dumping my tray before continuing out with him and on to our rooms. He waits until I’m safely in mine before entering his own.

In my room I pull out my Russian lessons and start in on them hoping to possibly add one more phrase to my collection of inane and useless bits of trivia. Before I may even get into the lesson my mind does a flash back to the dinner conversation with Tanner. That gets me to thinking about my years in school and that moves back into the beatings and how much I hate this body. Yes, it is a very beautiful woman’s body. No, I’m not a woman. I’m the XY variety and that is and has always been considered male by all accounts.

How can it be possible that I have some of a female’s innards when my chromosomes say I’m male? Hell, my chromes are the whole argument Dad used against my shape and breasts and nearly everything else about me.

“You’re just trying to be a jackass, you little prick. Stop eating like a fairy and put on some weight. Begin exercising more. You’ll wind up looking more like a male in short order.”

I can remember eating twice as much as anyone else at our meals and still not gaining the weight or shape Dad wanted to see. He accused me of throwing it all up into the toilet, “like one of those people who try to look like a stick.”

That was one of his gentler nights. Usually he would come home only to learn I’d been beaten at school again that day and figure I could learn how to defend myself if he beat me up too.

I don’t know what time I woke up but I discovered I was asleep at the table, my head on my lesson. I manage to change a bit and go to bed only to fall back into the dreams and nightmares.

I’m still trying to decide if I’m meant to be a girl or if I should follow the chromes and be a boy. I’ve spent seventeen long, mostly difficult and painful years trying to be a boy and this body still makes me look like a woman. If I give up and follow the body then what happens when someone learns I’m really a boy? I can’t win either way. I’m a boy that looks like a girl, or I’m a girl that is really a boy. Either one gets me killed.

Sleep began to find it’s way into my mind which never really shut off. The dreams became more bizarre and then totally ridiculous but they all had a mutual theme... me getting pounded.

One even had Dad forcing me to dress like a girl, which he never did, and then he sold me to Emerson. Tanner just stood off in the distance saying things that didn’t make any sense... pretty much like he does now.

The next morning I had my fight with the phone again and thanked them for the wake up call. Finally finishing my undressing so I could go take a hot shower. My muscles and body felt like I’d been used as a punching bag all night. After what seemed like forever I picked an outfit to wear and got dressed then packed my few remaining things which were still out from when we arrived. I really could use a good night’s sleep. Tanner rings me and we agreed to meet in the hall in five minutes to go to breakfast.

Once we were in the hall he took one look at me, “Bad night?”

“You could say that.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Me. Dad. Life. Emerson.”

He gets a funny look on his face and comes over to hold me. I flinch and he just quietly says, “I’m sorry, Kat. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Maybe you could just kill me when I’m not looking?”

He stepped back from me and looked at me again like he wants to talk me out of it. He points at my room and I thumb the door so we can go in. There we sit on the couch and he just holds me for a while. Somewhere along the way I fall into sleep and manage to get twenty or thirty minutes of real rest while he holds me and gently rubs my shoulder. This is the safest I’ve felt in a long time.

After I awaken again he feels my body change from it’s relaxed state, “Kat. While we are on the trip. If you need to sleep with someone close or with me holding you so you can actually rest, don’t feel afraid to come to my room. I won’t take advantage of you and maybe you can actually rest with someone close who won’t hurt you. Okay? At least think about it?”

I nod my head. I’m too tired to argue. All the holding in the world won’t change what I am.

We finally get up to go to breakfast. I look at the clock and we are an hour late.

“Breakfast is probably over by now.”

“I’m high enough on the food chain that they’ll make an exception for us this once.”

“So much for being a freelance agent, huh?”

He smiles, “I think you already figured that out anyway.”

“How do you get away with your own business if they need you since you’re higher up?”

“I’ve been taking a year off because of an injury and some heavy vacation and recovery time.”

“So some day soon all your girls will lose you as their agent?”

“Well. Not so much as an agent but yes in about four months I need to fold my business and move into something else. I hope to leave the girls in pretty good hands and with enough money that they’ll be okay. I have a good severance package worked out for Irina too. You’re the one about whom I’m concerned.”

“Why me?”

“I kind of like the idea of continuing to work with you for a while.”

“As a male or as a female?”

“I favor the female but that’s going to be up to you. We’re here. We better end this conversation for now.”

“Tan...”

He turns back to me, “yeah?”

I stand on my toes and kiss his lips. Then lower myself again as I reach up to remove my lipstick from his lips.

“I think I might like to work with you for a while too. It could be as a female but right now the long term decision about that is still out.”

He reaches to my face and gently caresses my cheek. I lay my head into his palm and wish life had dealt me cards which had allowed me to really be a female rather than an it.

Sometimes I wonder why this whole mess had to happen to me. What am I supposed to learn from this? How did I survive those first seventeen years or am I in a coma and this is all a dream? Is life this hard for everyone? Why are we all really here? What is life supposed to be teaching us? Wouldn’t it be a laugh if life wasn’t life but it was just a mass hallucination designed to keep us entertained for who knows what reason. Maybe during an eon’s long flight across space while we are all in hibernation and our minds need to be exercised so we don’t turn into vegetables during the flight.

Now that really would be a hoot. All this is our collective imaginations... Well, then I think I’m going to start dreaming about being a princess who’s Mom and Dad really did care.

Meanwhile... there’s breakfast.

Sometime during breakfast I shared my latest revelation about the mass hallucination. That gots a hearty laugh out of Tanner, “You know that would actually explain so much. I wish my imagination was that active.”

We finish breakfast and move on to getting ourselves organized in time to catch the ride which will be picking us up and taking us to the airport where we will fly a short hop then meet up with the others before taking the big jump over the Atlantic. First to Heathrow, then to Paris where we will collect the photo equipment before flying Aeroflot to St. Petersburg.

The five of us will run about five thousand six hundred dollars for that last hop. I’m glad Emerson paid the fares. Tanner has tickets to hand out to each of us for the entire itinerary. I glance at the final cost for mine and see it is nearly sixteen thousand. I had no idea. In addition to the modeling and photography fees the simple cost of transportation (more than just the airlines), lodging and food for the five of us must run in the neighborhood of one hundred seventy-five thousand for this five week tour. Suddenly modeling has taken on an entirely new meaning for me. Add the fees, printing, distribution costs and insurance to that and it could cost four hundred thousand or so just to send the models around to use for advertising a new line. Then there is the print part of advertising to consider. That’s a lot of clothing sales just to make back the advertising costs.

I’m beginning to wonder how businesses can afford it.

Soon we have checked through the airport and their security, and are waiting for our boarding call. It isn’t too long until they call for boarding allowing us to go in to begin our international odyssey. I spent most of the time looking out the window at the water below us hoping to spot a ship or some land or something, seasoned international traveler that I am. Once in a while I see another aircraft and start poking Tanner and pointing at my discovery.

Typical fiancee... he’s trying his best to ignore me and sleep. I look around and see a number of the passengers are sleeping. Pam, I note, is reading a book and Laura is watching a movie. Don’t they know how exciting this is? I’m going to EUROPE. You’d think it happens everyday... oh... that’s right. Maybe they’ve been there before. BUT it’s exciting!!! Unless you’ve done it a dozen times or more.

‘But Mommy... we’re going to Europe.’ ‘Hush honey, I know it’s exciting but study your Russian or take a nap. There will be plenty to see when we get there.’ I look at Tanner who is trying to ignore me long enough to get back to sleep. I begin to quiet down and look for something to do. I study for about an hour but I’m so keyed up I can’t concentrate well. Slowly boredom and the whine of the jet’s engines settle onto me. Eventually I awaken only to discover I have been sleeping on Tanner’s shoulder which he has been slowly raising and lowering in an effort to unobtrusively awaken me. Finally I’m aware enough of everything around me that I realise the flight attendants are taking orders to serve our meal. I wish I’d thought to bring a book almost envying Pam’s foresight.

I had a very nice meal (but avoided the potatoes) and noticed Pam seems to have had the same. Glancing out the window I see no sign of land ahead of us but it is a bit difficult to see very far. Below us is still nothing but water and some clouds. Once in a while we pass through a thin mist which is one of those clouds.

I’m still bored. I ask Tanner to pull my computer case down from the storage compartment above and get out my digital camera and it’s instruction booklet. The computer goes back up into storage. I begin to read so I may have some idea of how to use my camera once we get to our destination. Fortunately, I read geek. Can’t they write these things in some sort of colloquial English? After the computer booklet and this manual, I am more certain than ever that these companies hire people who intentionally write in as confusing a manner as possible. I wonder that anyone could obtain a four year degree in gobbledygook and find a job which pays them to write it. And probably pays well I might add.

Tanner is moving his shoulder under my head again and I came to long enough to understand we must adjust our seats and seatbelts since we are soon to be landing.

I checked my ticket for a clue before deciding this is just a short halt to our trip. Trying to see land but having no success since it is fairly dark out. The clouds still have some illumination coming from well behind us but before we touch down even that is gone. Soon there is a change in the sound and the plane jars a bit. The sound level increases dramatically and I’m worried we are going to crash but no one else seems to be paying the slightest attention to it. Either they are deaf for some strange reason or it is something normal to landing. Pam happens to notice me looking around and smiles at me, mouthing something which I finally decipher as, “First time flying?” I nod my head and she holds her hands up waving her fingers then gives me a ‘thumbs up’ which I take it to mean everything is okay. I took a couple of deep breaths then waited for the crash.

More strange sounds occured and the plane rose and fell small amounts which was different than the entire flight which had reminded me of a simple bus or train ride. I suddenly noticed more lights flashing past us at the side just before there was this slight jarring which caused me to place new designer ridges into the arm rests. The noise of the engines increased dramatically and I just know we are going to end up in a fiery ball of twisted wreckage. Instead, I feel us slowing fairly quickly and finally we feel like we are once again under control of sorts rather than careening along some highway awaiting the wall at the end. I wonder if they have walls at the end of runways so the planes don’t go off and into some housing development?

The colour of the lights has changed and we eventually come to a halt with the engines beginning to slowly wind down. One continues to run until the lights blink and then it too dies off. Were here. I begin to think that perhaps I somehow wound up on a long Disneyland ride but having never been there all I know is what I’ve seen on television.

Tanner hands me my computer case and I drag my purse out from it’s cubby hole, drop my camera and booklet into it and eventually we exit the aircraft to make our way to a set of overhead monitors in order to learn where we go to catch our connecting flight to Paris. We will remain there the rest of the night before continuing to St. Petersburg later in the day after collecting the photographic equipment.

We make our way out of this concourse and down to another being careful to remain on the aircraft side of the security checkpoints then plop down once again to wait for the boarding call which will take us to France. I’m in England but all I can see is the airport terminal and darkness outside with some movement of aircraft and a small number of lights in the distance. I pull out my camera and take two photographs before someone approaches me and tells me photography is not permitted in the terminal. Tanner intercedes for me and after they inspect my passport and note the absence of customs entry stamps plus my ticket which shows I’m continuing to France they calm down a little. I begin to bombard them with questions about England and they finally figure out I’m just some dizzy tourist who is trying to document her trip having never been out of the ‘colonies’. I love their accents. The one is from the greater London area and the other hails from Edinburgh. I still wish I could see something from here. The one leads me over to another area where I may press my face to the window and in the distance see some lights which are actually buildings somewhere off the airport property.

“Sorry there isn’t much to see from here, luv. Not even during the day. Perhaps when you are returning you may stop long enough to take a tour or two. There’s a lot of history here.”

I quickly retrieve my ticket from my purse and we search to see if I will have that opportunity during my return. I can’t read the thing but he looks through it and announces that he’s sorry but, “no, I’m sorry but your connecting flights will not offer you enough time to visit anywhere. Next best thing, follow me to the bookseller; there is a nice book there which will tell you a great deal about the United Kingdom so you may decide what you would like to see the next chance you have to visit.”

I brighten at that and follow him where he shows me several books and I purchase two then he leads me back to our terminal where everyone is just beginning to board.

“I was about to send out a search party.” Tanner quips at me.

“Sorry, Guv. I was watching the time but we were a bit long at the bookseller. I wouldn’t have let her miss her flight.”

“Thanks. This is her first time in Europe and she’s a bit over, with the excitement of it.”

“The first time is always the best. Safe journey, Miss.”

“Thank you. And thank you for showing me these books.”

“Quite ‘right, Miss.”

We board the plane and soon are in the air again.

to be continued

All the people that I meet don’t wear a frown

The trip to Paris was almost as much a non-event as the flight across the Atlantic. I was a bit more prepared for the sounds of a landing this time and hoped I looked very much more the seasoned traveler.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Not too long after we arrived we were in the Sheraton preparing for a little sleep, as if we did much of anything else during the flights. The hotel was a bit strange in that it seemed to be a part of the airport. Perhaps the airport was built and then a section scooped out so the hotel could be placed into it or perhaps the other way around with the airport being built around the hotel. It just seemed so strange to be able to walk directly from the one into the other.

This time there were two of us sharing a room as we have joined up with some more of Tanner’s as well as Emerson’s people. I found myself paired with Pam. I don’t know if that was a good thing or bad. As girls we get along quite well but since I have a secret to hide, the whole experience became a bit difficult for me not to mention a little unnerving since she doesn’t know my secret. At least we have two beds, but I don’t know how I would handle it if I should need to share at some point. If I can keep myself covered down below then It shouldn’t be too bad since as far as she is concerned I have the right equipment a bit higher.

This ‘little’ additional stress causes me to begin thinking my entire situation over once again and while the next five or six hours were a bit stressful, the dreams held nothing for me compared to some I have gone through. In fact the adventure of the trip so far has kept my mind occupied sufficiently that my usual near nightly self-recriminations and what if’s, managed not to raise their ugly heads.

The next morning when we rise, we took our showers then dressed once again for travel. Not that we are going much of anywhere since this is the day Tanner and Irina will collect the photographic and makeup equipment which will be traveling with us most of the rest of the trip. Pam and I joined Laura to go to breakfast then afterward wandered through the airport shops where I found a book printed in English which tells me about Paris. One more place which I will not have time to see but shall place on my list of places to visit when I have some money to do so. I do happen to take a few photos of Pam and Laura and the two women from Emerson’s entourage who have joined us, Kaitlyn and Elaine. With the two men, who have gone with Tanner and Irina, we are beginning to have the makings of a fairly large group.

“This is fairly small actually. We shall be joined by more local people in St. Petersburg. There will be another model and an interpreter plus two or three more who will help with the set up of equipment and act as local liaison. The list of a dozen places where we will be taking photographs has been approved and they will assist us in getting everything done smoothly. There will also be some drivers and a trailer in which we may change outfits. The clothing has been sent ahead and there are probably close to a hundred outfits to be modeled.”

I’m stunned, “Will we be modeling all one hundred at each location?”

This brings a chorus of laughter from the others.

“Oh no. But there may be some repeats and some outfits worn by different girls at different locations. This will provide enough diversity that they shall have many photographs from which to choose. There will also be times when more than one of us will be modeling together. Most of it is nearly static with just a little movement or repositioning. We will follow a script but with the ability to flow as necessary. The approved locations are expected to be fluid since there may be opportunities for slight changes allowing for better photographic opportunities.”

“Will they allow me to take photos for my scrapbook?”

“I don’t believe that will be a problem. They are trying to encourage tourism. Who knows, a photo of you taking a photo might even be used in the publicity for the clothing.”

“Oh I can picture that now. A photograph of me taking a photograph of Tanner.”

“There will also be a second photographer there. He will be taking photos for their board of tourism. If they like some of the poses they may use them to promote tourism for St. Petersburg in their world wide campaigns.”

I smile, “Do we receive a second fee?”

Again there is laughter.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“I think I’ll accept being allowed to take my own photos as the second fee then.”

“Katrina, you’re priceless. I’ll need to remember this.”

“Will we have an opportunity to tour Paris?”

The other girls seem to be interested in this also.

“Not at this time, but coming back there will be two days and it could be arranged for a tour or two. You would be able to take pictures to your hearts content.”

“There was no time in England either. I’ve been reading the books I purchased there. I wish I’d had the opportunity to visit Edinburg and to tour parts of London. Again, no time.”

“Not going back either, I’m afraid. Perhaps during one of the subsequent trips. London is on the return junket but we will be modeling so there will be no time for a tour. You might be able to take some photos of the more important places but the actual informative tour would need to wait.”

“I suppose the entire four weeks will be like this?”

“Pretty much. There are only seven cities but each four to five day block will be busy. After St. Petersburg, we will be going to Moscow then back to Paris, down into Milan and Rome, over to Madrid and then back to London. Pretty much a whirlwind tour. While all of you are busy with your part of the game I’ll be busy finalizing the arrangements for the next leg of our trip. I started weeks ago and will finish when we arrive at London. There I’ll return to the US while the rest of you continue for a few days taking the remainder of the photographs. This has been a bit of a departure from our normal promotions.

We don’t usually have so much of the clothing line available at each of the locations. We are trying to open into two new markets and so wish to make a ‘splash’ showing our clothing as an international set rather than simply local. Photos taken in St. Petersburg and Moscow for example will be seen in many of the stores through the US and much of Europe. Rather than photographically placing the model over a background image we are shooting on site and thus hope this will garner additional publicity. We may even ask to see some of your photos, Katrina.”

“Mine?”

“Certainly. I’ve made the note that you will be taking digital photos and we may ask to see them since yours will be candid rather than posed and may include some of the support personnel. We could place small images into a corner of a poster which will show we actually shot the poster at the location seen and the effort we placed to bring our product to market. The buying public eats that up. It might help our sales. I doubt it could hurt sales.”

“After the tour is over I shall be placing the photos into folders on my computer. Tanner could copy the folders to a disk for you.”

“Thank you.”

Interesting. I didn’t know they might want my photos. I don’t know anything about taking pictures. I’m just interested in photos to help me remember the trip and the places to which we are going. So far I have nearly thirty but we haven’t gone anywhere that I could take nice pictures. Most of these are airports and the hotel room. Tanner wants a copy of all my photos too, so they are going to be popular. He helped me select my camera. It’s pretty simple but has a zoom and is fifteen Megapixels. He was thinking about one which was twenty two Megapixels but it was so complicated I didn’t want it. I just want something simple which will take nice photos. From what he was saying the more Megapixels the better but so long as I get some decent pictures I’ll be happy.

He talked to some friends of his after I selected the model I wanted. They were able to get me a better price on it so I purchased it through them. It took two extra days but I saved nearly eighty dollars. That’s nearly a quarter of the price of the camera and the savings allowed me to purchase the high speed memory card with the camera for the amount I would have spent for the camera alone. So far I’m pretty happy. I need to have him show me how to put the pictures in my computer. Maybe we can get together this evening and he could show me.

I snap a shot of the four girls sitting at the luncheon table and then ask Pam to take one with me sitting with them. She hates mechanical things but manages and then I show her the photo on the little screen. She wants to see how it looks when it is in the computer.

“Is that all there is to it? I could take pictures and they are ready to look at right away? What if I don’t like one? That’s part of what I hated about taking pictures. You had to pay for the ones you wound up not liking.”

At least I know that much about all this... “Oh, here look. I’ll just snap a picture of... Oh... that window over there. Now see? Here it is on the screen. If I decide I don’t like it then I can erase it like this and it’s gone. Where it was may be used by another picture. Once I move them into the computer and check that they are okay there, then I may erase them from the camera and start over. I purchased a more expensive memory card which allows me to take photos very quickly and it can hold somewhere near a hundred and eighty or a little more before I need to transfer them to my computer. I’m going to ask Tanner to show me how to transfer them later this afternoon or this evening.

I purchased my camera through some friends of his. He always gets his equipment through them and they saved me nearly eighty dollars on the price of the camera so I was able to afford the high speed memory card as well. It took several days and I was afraid I wouldn’t receive the camera before we left but it made it and so far I’m happy. I need to see how the pictures look on my computer.”

“What does that camera cost?”

“Three hundred ninety-nine in WalMart, but his friends were able to sell it to me for three twenty and the memory card for eighty-eight. I spent just ten dollars more than I would have spent for the camera alone. Until I see how the pictures look on the computer though, I don’t know if the camera was worth it. Tanner wanted me to purchase a camera with more Megapixels than this one but it was too complicated for me. I like simple... point and click.”

“Me too. That’s part of the reason I don’t take many pictures. Is it necessary to have a computer to use the camera?”

“I don’t know. I think you can just take the memory card and have the pictures printed from it, but I want to put them on my computer so I may look at them and decide which ones I want to keep. I’ve even learned how to crop the pictures so I may remove all the stuff I don’t need in the photo. Although I’m a little afraid of that since I might change my mind later.

Tanner said the best thing to do is save the pictures in a file which contains all the originals and then copy them to another file which may be edited to show only what I want in the photo. That way if I make a mistake or change my mind I may copy the original photo and try again without having lost everything and destroying my picture. His friends loaded some special software onto my computer so it will do that automatically for me. The originals will always be protected. If he shows me how to move the photos onto my computer I’ll show you this evening and we may see if they look very good.”

“That’s nice. Maybe if I like it, he could get me the same deal. Did you purchase your computer from them as well?”

“Yes. They didn’t save me anything on it but they did load photo imaging software onto it at no extra charge so I guess that would be worth something.”
~O~

It was late in the afternoon when the men returned. Pam had nearly finished with her book and I am well on my way toward finishing the first short book about London with the One about Paris next on my list. It was nearly suppertime when Tanner came to check on everyone and I manage to convince him to show me how to transfer the pictures so Pam and I may look at them.

“I told Pam about the great deal you got for me with the camera and computer. She wants to see how the pictures look but she might be interested as well. By the way, Emerson’s rep, Kaitlyn, says they would like a disk of my photos at the end of the tour. They may add small images from them onto the posters when they print them to sort of show we were all really there and not just using some back drops.”

I note Tanner gets a funny expression on his face when I tell him all this.

“Now don’t you go thinking about charging them for my photos. I already said they could have them. After all, it won’t be like I’m giving them free shots of the models in the outfits. It’s mostly going to be the surrounding area and some of the support people. Sort of me taking pictures of the people taking pictures or who help set up the equipment. I probably won’t have time to take pictures while we are actually modeling, though that might be fun once or twice.”

“You really shouldn’t let them have them for free, Katrina. They’re taking advantage of you. I’ll talk with her and see what they’re really after. Anyway, bring your computer and camera over here and I’ll show you how to transfer the images. It’s pretty easy with the software my friends loaded.”

Tanner walks me through the process, which is fairly simple. “Bring up the program, insert the memory card, the program will recognise the card and automatically move the photos into a folder which will be incremented by date.

That folder becomes the original or master file and the program will copy the files into a second folder for you to process for your scrapbook. If you mess up editing one of your photos, delete it and tell the program to recopy. It will check for any file from the original folder which no longer exists in the processing folder and recopy it so you may edit it again from the start. It’s pretty foolproof and that way your original photos are untouched and protected. If you want to copy the originals to a disk at the end of the tour, put a disk into the optical drive and go to the program telling it you want to copy the originals to the disk. It’s pretty easy. If you need more than one disk it will automatically ask for a second or third disk.”

“Couldn’t I just put a DVD disk in and copy everything to it”

“Uh... No. The program won’t support that format even if your optical drive will.”

“So if I take a lot of photos, I’ll need multiple CD disks if my original’s file is over 700 Megs?”

“Unless the compression used is enough to allow it all to fit the disk. You won’t know until you try, so have a number of disks on hand just to be safe.”

“Great. So now that everything is transferred and copied then I tell the program I want to process the photos and we may look at them?”

“Yep. It pretty easy. Have fun.”

“Thank you, Tanner.” I give him a quick kiss.

He looks at me and at Pam, then smiles and wiggles his eyebrows, “How about another one for the road?”

Pam laughs and I give him a light tap on the arm but raise up to him and give him another kiss, cementing the fact we are engaged in Pam’s eyes which means everyone else will know it in short order.

Tanner leaves our room, “Remember supper is in forty five minutes. I’ll come knock on the door.”

Pam and I began looking at the photos. She was quite impressed with the detail and the depth of the colour. I’m impressed because the pictures look so much better than they do on the camera’s little screen. Somehow I blow one of the pictures up six or seven times and we are just beginning to notice a little loss of detail. I think this may have been a great purchase.

We looked through the roughly forty photos which were taken and the ones we took downstairs a little earlier look great. Pam’s sold. She’s all fired up about getting a computer and digital camera so she may take photos of the flowers and landscapes which always interest her. I’ll talk with Tan about it. Maybe he can get her a deal too.

Shutting down that program, I call up my favorite photo program which is very compact and allows me to look at many different formats. It doesn’t have much in the way of editing ability but it can provide me with thumbnails of all the photos in the manner of looking at a slide box. And it can allow me to do a slide show of the photos or to examine one in great detail. My only problem now is to find where the photo program hides the images so I may look at them. After half an hour I finally find them and start looking through the photos. Now I’m really impressed.

This program doesn’t really process the images so much as it does a really good job of displaying them on the screen. The colour isn’t quite as pronounced as it is in the photo program that did the transfer from the memory card but the detail in the images is fantastic. A knock at the door reminds us it is time for supper so I put my computer and camera away after returning the memory card to the camera. Pam and I go out to join everyone at supper. I’ll look at the pictures some more when we get back to the room.
~O~

Pam and I return from supper, happily stuffed. Yes, we were careful what and how much we ate but being stuffed is a relative thing.

I get my computer out and am soon into looking at the images again with my photo program. I’m still stunned at the detail in these images. For a simple point and shoot camera I’m now VERY happy with my purchase. My gosh, just look. I can read the street sign at the corner a block away. Well... yes, of course I have to magnify the image but... even so... to have enough detail I can read the sign? How long have digital cameras been out?

I look at the image of Pam and the other girls and magnify the image until I’m looking at part of her face. Moving the image slightly so I am looking into her eye I hit magnify one more time and see something. I hit it once more and realise I’m looking at a highly detailed reflection of something behind me and that reflection is off her eye!

Quickly I check the size of the file which is producing this image... 37.78 Mb. Next I open the same picture in the photo program which Tanner’s friends put on my computer. The same unprocessed file is only 2.96 Mb. That seems strange. I open the file and expand it until I’m looking at Pam’s eye again. No detail in the reflection. In fact, I’m hard put to notice a reflection. Something isn’t quite right in photoland. I go to the one with my street sign and expand it. Good luck recognising the blip as being a street sign much less being able to read it.

I’m beginning to get a nasty feeling and somehow I think Tanner’s friends who sold me my camera and computer might be the same ones who were at the restaurant and the farm. I don’t know if I should tell him I know or if I should just be quiet about it and go along. For now, I’ll just keep quiet until I decide for certain. I close their photo program and go back to mine. I magnify her eye one more time and can actually make out lettering in the reflection. The lettering is backwards... duh... okay brainy, it’s a reflection after all, it should be reversed.

I flip back through my photos to the ones I took through the windows at Heathrow. Far in the background I see the jet which was landing. I begin enlarging the image until I am looking at one of the windows where I may see a child’s face partially hidden back where they were leaning forward to watch as they landed. There is enough detail that I could probably use this photo to identify the child.

Somehow, I don’t think this is a simple fifteen Megapixel camera. They must have done something to it. My three hundred and twenty dollars couldn’t have purchased something with this kind of image quality. Either they didn’t expect me to realise it could do this or they accidentally sent me the wrong camera, in which case I could be in a lot of trouble. That decides it for me. I have to tell Tanner.

to be continued

All the world’s a stage

I called down to the front desk after trying Tanner’s room where I received no answer. They tell me he has not left the hotel to their knowledge so I ask them to leave a message light on his phone then when he checks with them please have him call me. They agreed and I went back to playing with my photos, trying to see exactly how much detail can be found in them.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Pam, meanwhile, has changed and put on her robe over her nightgown. I tell her that Tanner may be calling later and I need to speak with him if he does.

I stopped playing with the super detail images as I’m not certain she needs to know about any of this... especially the super detail part and the likelihood that my camera isn’t ‘my’ camera but one which was sent to me by mistake. I go back to their photo program and play with the lower resolution images which turns out to be a bit less than satisfying now. Once having seen all that detail, I want it in everything. I hope Tanner returns soon.

I’m about to give up and prepare for bed. Pam is in her’s and reading one of my books about London. She doesn’t seem natural without a book in her hands. My laptop has just gone to sleep and I’m pulling the power cord from it’s external supply as the phone rings.

“Hello?.. Oh, Tan. I need to speak with you and show you something... Yes, it’s important, and no it won’t wait until tomorrow... Thank you. I’ll explain more when I meet with you, see you there.” I hang up the phone and thank God the battery on my laptop is fully charged. “Pam, I shouldn’t be long. I’ll knock twice before entering so you will know it’s me.”

I rush out to meet Tanner, carrying my laptop and my purse. I’m waiting at the elevator when the doors open and Tanner steps out.

“Okay, Kat. What’s so important?”

“Could we go somewhere private where me may safely talk?” I whisper to him.

He gives me a funny look and we go downstairs to a secluded spot in the lobby.

“Now. What’s so important?”

I look around nervously, droop my shoulders and wake up my laptop. Soon I have my program running and in the photo file. I minimize it and bring up the program his ‘friends’ put on my computer. Going to the file which shows the child’s face in the window of the landing plane, I zoom in until the window with a blur behind it may be seen.

“This is the level of detail which your friend’s program shows for this photo. Notice the file size is three point one-six Megabytes? Now look at this...” I bring my program on line and zoom it to the same level. The face in the window is clearly discernable. “This file size is thirty seven point two-one Megabytes. That’s more than ten times the size of the file your friend’s program reports. Not only that but the detail is unbelievable. Now watch...” I change images until I’m at the one showing the girls and I zoom to Pam’s eye once again then into the eye showing the reflection. The program placed by his friends doesn’t even come close.

“So? A difference in the compression.”

“Even I’m not that stupid, Tan. They sent me the wrong camera. This is some special thing which takes photos so detailed that they could be used for... Oh... Oh!”

“Like you said Kat. You’re not stupid. Just have fun with your camera. If something comes up in the photos then it’s a bonus otherwise you just have a digital camera which takes the photos you want. I wouldn’t show anyone the extreme detail of the photos however.”

“What if someone takes my camera and downloads the photos?”

“Then they’ll see the kinds of photos a fifteen Megapixel camera would take. It takes that special program to download the full detail and it won’t display that detail on the screen so they still can’t figure it out. You’re safe, Kat. I demanded that before anything else, so they went to great lengths to make certain your photos would appear to be what they actually are. A tourist’s photos of interesting things. The super detail won’t show up in any sort of normal inspection. Now. How DID you get into the extreme detail files?”

“I was hunting for them so I could see the photos on my normal photo viewer. It let’s me see all of them as thumbnails and I may set the size of the images so I may look through them quickly.”

“What’s it’s name?”

“Irfanview.”

“Spell that.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to let the office know there is a program out there which can read the special files.”

“It can read nearly fifty kinds of image and motion files as well as audio. I have all the plug ins.”

“Do me a favor... Hide your program so it is more difficult for someone to find.” He starts to get up then sits again. “Kat, if I put a few photos I’ve taken with my camera onto a disk, would you see if you can look at them with your ‘Iffyview’ thing?”

I scowl at him for disparaging my program, “Yes. I could see if it could open and display them. I’ve come up against some which it cannot open but not very many once you have all the plug-ins.”

He nods his head, “Good deal. Thanks for showing me that. Go on up and get some sleep now. We’ll be leaving about eight thirty, the flight is at eleven. Breakfast will be around seven.”

I get up and start to walk away, “Kat?” I turn around to see a hurt puppy dog look on his face, “Didn’t you forget something?” He points to me and to his mouth. I give him a look which says I’m considering all the pro’s and con’s then walk back to him, raise up on my toes putting one arm around his neck as I hang onto my laptop with the other and give him a kiss on his lips. I’m beginning to like this. NOW THAT’S SCARY.

We walk back to the elevator and I go back up to my room so I may prepare for bed. He wanders off toward the telephones.

On my way to my room and while changing as well, I’m thinking about my kissing Tanner. Of course fiancees would kiss so it’s just for the cover but... there’s something. This doesn’t make sense because I’m a guy. Why do I even think I like kissing another guy? Oh God, maybe Dad is right and there’s something wrong with me.

Sometime during the night I awaken crying, with Pam holding onto me as she sits at the side of my bed. It isn’t until the next morning that I realise I was leaning tight up against a girl with both of us in nightgowns as I was sobbing my eyes out and I didn’t even react to her presence except for the comfort while I was hurting. WHAT IN HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

When we awaken the next morning I’m still in deep thought. After seventeen years is Dad going to be proven right? Oh, that’ll make the Reverend’s day. I can picture the next ten or twelve sermons detailing the depths of depravity to which I have sunk and the payments which will be demanded of me in hell. One of those payments will probably be the requirement that I let Dad pound me into the ground every day when he finally shows up down there. Suddenly the dream I had about Dad selling me to Emerson doesn’t seem all that farfetched.

What can I do to be me again? I mean... cripes... Here I am putting on a skirt suit, make up and jewelry and I’m about to spend yet another day as a girl. Not only that but I’ve committed to doing it for two years??? Committed. Yeah that’s probably what they need to do with me. I’m psycho. As nutty as a fruitca... Fruitcake?... oh yeah... Kissing a guy and liking it? Well — at least not disliking it.

It would be a bit difficult just now but maybe when I get back from these five weeks I can just disappear and become me again... OR... I could wait and make more money up until Tanner disappears from the scene then I could disappear at the same time and no one would be the wiser. I won’t have all the money I need but I’ll have enough to live on while I look for other work. Yeah... that might work. I only need to put up with about four months rather than two years and then I’m me again. Yeah...

“...rina? KATRINA! Are you listening?”

“What? Oh sorry Pam. I was doing some deep thinking.”

“We need to go. Breakfast started ten minutes ago. Tanner called. Didn’t you hear the phone?”

“Er... No. Sorry. Let’s go eat and then I’ll finish packing when we come back up.”

Breakfast was fast for me. I was far behind everyone else since I was spending my packing time thinking instead. The others are nearly ready to have their cases brought down from the rooms. I begin throwing my stuff together and manage to finish just as the knock comes at the door and the bellhop begins loading Pam’s stuff on his cart. Mine is ready seconds later and he takes it all down at once while I carry my purse and computer case. I’m not willing to part with the computer since it is important to my photographs as well as my research on the internet. I hope to learn more about people like myself. The only problem I’m having is deciding just what myself happens to be.

We spent about an hour checking our equipment and little electronic odds and ends through the gauntlet using the ATA Carnet’s. Tanner’s for his and Irina’s stuff and my little one for my camera, computer, CD/MP3 player and personal jewelry. Some of the others have them also for various small odds and ends which normally wouldn’t even need to be declared but due to black market operations we must show everything we are bringing into a country and then show it going out again. What a pain.

Everyone is finally happy, a relative term in this case, with us allowing us to finally by passed through to the gate where we await the aircraft which will take us to St. Petersburg... And wait... and wait. We finally receive the message that the aircraft had engine trouble and another was brought in to replace it. The replacement will be landing in about twenty minutes and taking off again less than twenty minutes after that. Understandable. It could happen to any airline.

~O~

St. Petersburg went well, I think. We had the opportunity to almost be tourists since we were shooting at many of the landmark spots. I took tons of photos... okay... okay so I took about a hundred. I downloaded them into my laptop and my camera was once again empty waiting for it’s golden moments in Moscow where I intend to again put it to use. I’ve collected some nice photos

At St. Petersburg we were in the Peter and Paul fortress, which was built back in the early seventeen hundreds to help protect against possible attack by the Swedish Army and Navy. Near the middle of the fortress is a beautiful Russian Orthodox Cathedral where an angel is holding a cross on the top of the spire, which is so tall it stands far above the city. They told us the angel and the spire are gilded so the colour remains relatively protected from most of the elements. The Cathedral is named the Peter and Paul Cathedral and is the burial place of the Russian Emperors and Empresses from Peter the Great through to Alexander III. It’s some wonderful history.

We took photos within the fortress and I came away with some of my own. Many of the buildings are historically significant to Russia. We paid to enter the Cathedral and the City Museum. It was worth it. There is even a Mint there which is one of only two places in Russia where coins and medals are produced. Even at the lower resolution I’m very happy with my photos.

During our travels we were taking photos at Peter the Great’s summer palace and at the State University. I took a photo of a statue of someone riding a horse but didn’t learn who it was until later when I showed the image to our interpreter. It’s a bronze of Peter the Great riding a horse and is appropriately named The Bronze Horseman. Sorry, I used lower resolution here so no one could see how much detail the really good ones could produce.

The press who watch us from time to time think it’s funny to have one of the models shooting pictures of everything and have dubbed me the ‘Fashionable Photographic Tourist’. I suppose it doesn’t translate well. They are becoming accustomed to my taking photos everywhere we go. Emerson’s people think it’s great publicity. Tanner told me to be careful when the ‘press’ are around since many times they are government agents and not truly ‘press’. Now I’m becoming paranoid.

Here in Moscow, Pam and I are sharing a room again and I’m beginning to wonder if Tanner hasn’t put her in with me as a chaperone of sorts. I’m still taking photos. I intend to have a terrific scrapbook.

Eventually Pam and I return to our room on the evening of the third day here. We’ll finish tomorrow and then actually have a day to sightsee before we fly out again. As usual I’m dealing with my photo collection when Pam returns to our room, having visited with the other girls for a while.
~O~
Moments after she arrives I discover Laura and Sacha are with her as well.

“Katrina, we think you need to know something if you haven’t noticed it yourself.”

That sounds sufficiently ominous that I close down my applications and shut off my computer as I turn my attention to the three of them.

“So what’s such a problem that the three of you need to visit me about it?” As if I didn’t know. I wonder how they found out about me?

Pam begins so I suppose they elected her spokeswoman, “Well... We have been keeping away from Tanner because you’re wearing that engagement ring and we have been respecting it.”

I look down at the ring and back up at them in puzzlement. So they haven’t been making plays for my ‘boyfriend’ because we are supposedly ‘engaged’?

“We... uh... Oh hell there’s no easy way. Kat, we all like you and don’t want to hurt you but if you don’t intend to remain engaged to Tanner then say so. Some of us would like a shot at him and we don’t like that floozy Elaine jerking his chain all the time behind your back. If you don’t do something soon she’ll manage to get him into her bed and then you can kiss that ring goodbye. It isn’t like you’ve been spending much time with him. If you don’t want him then I’d like a crack at him.”

I’m flabbergasted. “You... He... Elaine?”

They nod yes.

“How long?”

“Since the first day at St. Petersburg. You’ve got to pay attention to your man if you don’t want to lose him. As I said, we haven’t gone after him and we told Sasha to stay away out of respect for you but if it’s open season then we want a chance before Elaine grabs him up.”

“I’ll kill her. And him.”

“I don’t think it’s him so much as she’s been throwing herself at him. They’re downstairs in the bar right now having another ‘business’ meeting.”

“Thanks.” I storm out of the room and skip the damn elevator which runs like it was built a hundred years ago. I don’t know, maybe it was. I’m downstairs faster than it could have come up from the lobby to my floor anyway. I charge the bar setting fire to everything and anyone in my path. The hotel staff move quickly out of the way, no one wants to tangle with a she bear on the hunt.

I arrive in the bar to learn the girls were quite correct. I find Tanner and Elaine curled up together in an out of the way booth just off the darkest part of the bar.

“What’s this cozy little get together, Tan?”

“What? Oh, Kat. What cozy little get together?”

“You and this... this... trollop. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how she’s been throwing herself at you the past week and a half.”

Ms. Trollop decides to join the conversation with an uneducated retort, “Who are you to tell Tan, baby, who he can and can’t see, Miss High and Mighty?”

I hold up my hand with the engagement ring on it, “This gives me the right, floozy. Tanner is my fiancee and I’ll thank you to remove yourself from his arm and move back to the other side of the table where you belong.”

“Katrina, I can explain this.”

“Of course you can, Tanner. It’s a business meeting, right?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“Then where are the business materials? Why is she cuddled up against you like a caboose that forgot it belongs at the end of the train and not next to the engine?”

“It isn’t like that, Kat.”

“NO? Then why are all the other girls saying it is? And why is she still hugging up against you? She hasn’t even denied it but has intimated that I don’t belong here questioning her about it. If this is a business meeting then you won’t mind if I join you where she is sitting and she can move to the other side of the table where she belongs.”

“Butt out, bitch.” She says to me, “You don’t protect your territory then expect another girl to take it over.”

Tan gets a funny look on his face and turns his head toward Elaine then back at me.

“Well, Tanner are you going to tell her to move or shall I?”

“Katrina, baby... You’ve been replaced. A real woman has come into his life.”

This reference to my not being a real woman hits me pretty hard. My face goes pale and tears spring to my eyes. I never expected Tanner would tell someone about my condition. I thought I could trust him. The bitch actually has managed to still my tongue for a moment.

“Slept with her yet, MISTER Hamersley? I was wrong. You’re just like Emerson.” I pull the engagement ring off my finger and throw it at him, watch it bounce off and land on the table just missing his drink even as I’m turning to storm off to my room. As I go out the door of the bar I glance back and see the bitch admiring the ring which is now on her finger. I hope it cuts off the blood circulation. Tanner is just sitting there looking at it too. I’m so angry I could choke her... And him. I punch the elevator button for the thirtieth time and the elevator doors finally open so I’m in and on my way up to my room... Pam’s room, I’m leaving.

I call down for a bellhop then throw my stuff together, grab my purse and am ready to go just as a knock sounds at the door. Meanwhile Pam is sitting up in her bed looking at me wide eyed ever since I snapped on the lights when I entered the room. I open the door and indicate my bags to the bellhop who this time is a girl. She places them onto her cart and we are down the hall and eventually in the lobby where I ask for my passport and a ride to the airport. All that is settled very quickly and I’m out and on my way.

I arrive at the airport in about fifteen minutes as there isn’t all that much traffic this time of night despite the night activity in other parts of the city. I begin the process of changing my remaining tickets into one which will take me back to London and then home. I’m still pissed off. I don’t know why I ever thought this could work. I’m not a female so why in the hell did I ever agree to do this... this... stunt. Oh, Yeah, all that nice money which I never saw and will now never see. Hell, Tanner hasn’t even paid me for anything past that first gig. Oh, yeah... well... he did pay for two months on my apartment so I would have somewhere to come back to since I didn’t want to continue living at his place. But still, with all we’ve been doing and $5,000 just for the St. Peterburg part of the tour, he owes me a bundle. As if I’ll ever see it.

Now I get word that the first flight out is tomorrow morning at ten so I have just under twelve hours to wait around in the airport before my flight. Terrific. This just gets better and better. My tickets were all first class so they let me wait in the lounge.

I sit down and continue to fume. How could he tell her about me? Boy did I ever misread him. I think that little mistake has me more steamed than anything else. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had seemed to be girl to girl but to tell her I’m not female? I could strangle him. “A real woman has come into his life,” I’m not going to forget that one very quickly.

As uncomfortable as it is sitting here, I still have fallen asleep. I know this because I had my usual and unusual nightmares, waking up around midnight with a crick in my neck. They have even turned the lights off in here so I can’t see much. It makes it easier to see out the windows though, not that there is much to see. I go to fiddle with my ring as I usually do to make certain it isn’t turned around on my finger when I discover it isn’t there. I panic and begin to glance around wildly before remembering I threw it at Tanner. God, I feel naked without it. I cry myself to sleep again.

More nightmares and more awakenings. “A real woman has come into his life.” OH!!! I’m so angry I could pull out her hair. In fact that doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. I should have done that before I left. Maybe I will go back and do just that then return here. There’s a lot of time before ten o’clock. I can still see Ms. Smug admiring my ring on her finger. How dare he give her my ring? He could at least have purchased another. Oh yes. It wasn’t like he gave it to a “real woman” now, was it? I can just see his logic. I’m not a “real woman” so it doesn’t count... I should pull out his hair, too.

The next time I awaken I think I can notice it is a little lighter out. I’m really beat. The nightmares and waking up over and over has just wiped me out. At least I finished St. Petersburg and Moscow so I’ll have some money coming. Would have been nice if I could have made it through the whole five weeks of the Emerson shoots and the four months until Tan moves on. I would have had enough money that I could have lived on it for a couple of years. Surely in that much time I could find another good job. Now all I’ve got is about a month’s rent prepaid and about a hundred dollars in my pocketbook. If Tanner pays me then I’ll be okay for a few more months so I could probably find something. As a guy.

“A real woman has come into his life.” Oh... that still makes me so mad. How could he?

Yes, it’s lighter out. I may make out detail. Aww shit! I’ve got to change my name back. Okay, I can go see his sister and do that. Or maybe not. What if he tries to get me for breach of contract? Damn signing that was one of my more stupid moves. It seemed so damned logical at the time, just like changing my name. He’s a spy all right, a master manipulator and little old me just fell right into it. Even the engagement ring. Of course I’m not a “real woman,” so that didn’t mean anything to him anyway. It probably wouldn’t have meant anything anyway since he was doing it as a business/ spy thing and not as a fiancee thing. Hell. That means I really didn’t have any reason to get so steamed up. But that floozy was treading on my territory. He’s my fiancee and... I mean he was my fiancee... Oh man. Am I ever fucked up. How could I be his fiancee when I’m not even a “real woman?” Damn, that still has me steamed. I wonder if they have any coffee around here? Oh great. My skirt looks like I slept in it. I begin laughing which causes the two people, who have come in to clean the room, to look at me strangely. Looks like I’ve slept in it. Well, I have. And what does it matter anyway? As soon as I get home I’m going to be a guy again since I’m not “A real woman.”

The next time I see Tanner I’m going to slap him so hard if he were here he’d go out through that window. Grabbing my purse and computer bag, I wander out in search of coffee and a clock. Rubles... Let’s see. I know I have Rubles. I manage to ask in moderately fluent Russian the cost of the coffee and roll, hoping I’m not asking for directions to the restrooms. The clock told me it is a little after six and the kiosk opened at six. I managed to pay for my coffee and roll, which looks a little strange but tastes great, and even put some extra money into the woman’s palm thanking her.

I take my sip of coffee and chew some more roll. Eventually I finish them both then find my way to a restroom before returning to the lounge again. About a quarter after Seven I awaken again to shake off my stupor.

Sometime around eight Pam, Tanner and Ms. Trollop come in. Tanner starts to talk and I slap him hard enough to nearly drop him to the floor then I start in on Ms. Trollop. A few seconds later Tanner is dragging me off her and Pam is between us. I don’t want to hurt her because she has been friendly to me the whole trip. I finally realise she is trying to say something and begin to calm down enough to listen. That’s when Mr. Big Mouth starts talking so I slap him again. He blocked most of it so it didn’t really do much.

“KAT, STOP IT. LISTEN TO ME.”

“Oh yes, listen to you, you... you... confidence breaker.”

He looks at me like he doesn’t understand.

“Don’t you look at me like that, you pig. You told her.”

Now he looks completely confused.

“Told who? What did I say?”

“You told her!” I point at the trollop who tries to bite my finger inciting me to more violence which Tanner managed to halt before it could really get underway.

“Told her what?” Tanner continues to pretend.

“You know what you told her. About me.”

Now everyone is looking at me like they are confused.

Tanner figures it out finally, “No I didn’t. What the hell makes you think that?”

“Now a REAL woman has come into his life.” I mimic in Ms. Trollops voice.

I’ll give him credit, he can really make his ‘I’m confused’ expression look convincing.

Meanwhile Ms. Trollop has come close enough that I slap her good and hard again.

Tanner corrals me and drags me away from her.

“Kat. Kat, stop this crap and listen to me.”

I quit squirming and look at him angry as hell and twice as dangerous. He pulls me tight so I can’t move then kisses me. That surprises me.

“Kat. I didn’t tell her a damn thing. You’re taking the sentence out of context. She doesn’t know.” He whispers to me.

A little louder, “Here’s your ring back,” he puts it on my finger again, “ and here is her ticket for the rest of the trip. She’s using yours and is returning to the States.”

“Wha... What?” I do so love how intelligent I sound when I’m confused. It’s so much easier to be angry.

“I spoke with Emerson and she’s out. I’m sorry. I didn’t see what she was doing. She’s going back to the States today and you have the tour to finish.”

“Then why didn’t you come tell me last night?”

“I didn’t know you had gone. I thought you went up to your room and I wanted to give you time to cool off.”

“Then how did she know about me?”

“She doesn’t. Think about the sentence. She wasn’t saying it the way you thought.”

I give the sentence some more thought and finally realise my error. I’ve been angry all night over a misinterpretation of her sentence. My face turns red, “Oh.”

A few moments go by and I reach up to gently touch his face where even now a red mark is beginning to raise up where I all but punched him.

“You slap pretty hard, lady.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” We both laugh a little at that one.

“When did you find out I’d left?”

“This morning at breakfast when I asked Pam if you were over being angry with me. She told me you left last night. That’s when I called Emerson and told him to get Elaine out of here or the shoot was cancelled and he could deal with my lawyers. Then I came here to find you and to ship her out.”

“You barely made it.”

“I put a hold on your ticket. They wouldn’t have let you board.”

“I didn’t think of that.”

“I’m glad. Now Miss Van Derholt, do you forgive your boyfriend?”

“I suppose so. But I want to see Ms. Trollop over there fly out of here before I will be completely mollified.”

“Well, that should occur in about an hour or so. I can release the ticket again now. Pam was worried about you. She wouldn’t let me come here without her.”

“I’ll go thank her. The whole thing escalated the moment Elaine said that “real woman” crack. It really hurt.”

“I can understand. I didn’t see how badly it had affected you last night but now the whole fiasco makes sense. You thought I betrayed your confidence and you felt upset with both her and me. It’s understandable.”

“But not correct.”

“No, not correct.”

I look at his face again and wince, “I’m afraid your face is going to be more than just red soon. I think it’s going to be black and blue.”

“Really?” Trying to see himself in a reflection off the window but the outside is too bright to allow much of a reflection, “Well then I guess you’ll have to make it up to me until the swelling and colour go down.”

“And how might I do that?”

“I’ll accept gentle kisses on a frequent basis during that time.”

I raise onto my toes and softly kiss his face.

“Ouch... that hurt. This may become a bit more of a pain than I thought.”

“You need an ice pack and a nursemaid. I’m beat and need some sleep. Maybe... Just today... I’ll sleep in your room and cuddle with you so you know you’re loved again. If you can behave yourself. Otherwise I’m right back here and out on the next flight.”

“I accept, fair maiden. I’ll give the crew today off and we’ll finish up tomorrow. We’re ahead of schedule so it won’t hurt too badly.” as he reaches up to his face and jerks away from his own hand, “on the other hand perhaps it will.”

to be continued

Everybody needs Somebody, Sometime

Tanner and I spent the rest of the day relaxing. He gave everyone today off with tomorrow as our finishing day and we made a point of letting some of the girls see us go into his room together... and locking the door.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

I spent short periods now and then trying to draw the hurt out of his poor face but I’m afraid the only cure I will be able to offer him tomorrow is a little make up to hide the bruising. I didn’t realise I could slap that hard. I managed about four hours of good sleep so I was feeling much better by early afternoon. We even made a point of showing for supper when everyone else was likely to be there. Again we positively reinforced everyone’s impression that we were, once again, the love birds we were supposed to be.

I’m happy, ‘my boyfriend’s back’ even though I spent that night sharing the room with Pam once again. She congratulates me even though she says, “I’m glad you have Tanner back, I just wish the opportunity to try to net him had gone my way. It isn’t often that a girl can lose and win back her boy friend without some serious repercussions. You obviously know how to play him.”

“We just have mutual interests and concerns, Pam. I think I’ll turn in. That way I may pack most everything in the morning before we leave to finish the shoot. Then I shall be ready when we depart early the following morning unlike when we left St. Petersburg. Good night Pam, and thank you for being such a good friend.”

We give each other a hug before I go clean up, removing the makeup I had actually placed on my own face, finally having gained some confidence under Irina’s tutelage. It isn’t too long before I’m ready for bed. The next two or three hours are spent tossing and turning, trying to get to sleep. It isn’t that I spent too much time asleep today. It’s just that my mind is playing with me again.

Pam went to bed about an hour after myself but here I am still thinking and tossing. When Tanner gave me my engagement ring back I felt it was a victory. I was as pleased as any woman could be. That’s why I can’t sleep. I slept while in Tanner’s room. It was comforting to be laying next to him sometimes cuddling and sometimes comforting him where I wrongfully slapped him. I never thought I was perfect.

Precisely what has me worried is exactly the fact I am pleased with how things turned out. Exactly how should I feel about it as a male? I suppose I should be glad it was a job well done, but why can’t I be male and accomplish things? Back to the same problems I’ve had all my life. I’m male, but I look like a female. I have many of the physical attributes externally and internally, but not enough to become a woman and have children. So... What about as a male? That’s even a shorter stick. I have very little that is male except the most important thing, X Y chromosomes. And, just as I am as a female, as a male I’m sterile.

So what does this mean to me really? I’m an X Y ‘IT’ just like Dad was always saying? The only difference is he thought pounding me could turn me completely male. I’ll never forgive him for that. His uneducated hypocrisy and bigotry came close to killing me more than once. And the dear Reverend... Another who needs to be sterilized or more. There has to be a way I could get them both. I just need to think. Yeah, think. What the hell do I think I’m doing but thinking. Yeah, wise guy... except you’re thinking the wrong thoughts. You need to make some decisions about your life.

Okay then, what’s the first thing I need to do? Make an outline of things I need to decide and to accomplish. Start small Mac. Start small.

I suppose one of the first issues I need to decide is whether I should become male or should become female. Okay that seems like a reasonable thing to need to decide. What else?

Well... I suppose I should need to make that change soon or at least begin it. Also important are going to be friends. As Mac or as Katrina I will need friends. People on whom I can rely and who will accept me whichever way I go.

I need a job to support myself and I need all this to occur nearly simultaneously.

Right. Start small. Who am I kidding? Well, I have a small outline. Now all I need to do is decide how to execute it.

“Thought you could get away from me did you? I told you what I’d do if I caught you wearing girl’s clothes again.” I awaken even as I feel the first bone snap.

Tears are streaming down my face as I recall the worst of Dad’s beatings and I could swear I can feel the pain of the broken bones again as well as the shame of even thinking about being a girl. The bed rocks as someone lands on it next to me and I scream and try to get away even as Pam wraps me in a bear hug.

“It’s a dream, Katrina. She’s gone. It’s a dream.”

“No... It’s him. It’s him, he’s found me again. He’s going to kill me.” I babble, still in the twilight zone between sleep and consciousness. “Dad’s going to kill me this time.”

Pam is rightfully taken aback at this point but jumps back in with both feet, I really don’t deserve a friend like her.

“It’s all right, Kat. It’s all right. He’s gone. You’re safe baby.”

“Noo... He’s there... He’s there.” pointing across the room which frightens Pam as she tries to put me between her and the location at which I’ve pointed. She finally manages to turn on a light which helps to assuage her momentary fear by revealing no one in the room other than ourselves. I’m still stuck in the twilight zone.

“How did he know I’m a girl again? How did he find me?” I’m still trying to crawl out of my bed and over toward her’s but I’m tangled in the covers which are contributing to my fear by preventing me from moving much.

“You’re safe baby. You’re safe. Your father’s not here. Relax, Katrina.”

“Katrina?” I manage to question.

“Then what is your name?”

“Mac. When it’s Mac, Dad doesn’t try to kill me, just hurt me.”

“All right then. You’re safe, ‘Mac’. Come on, wake up. You’re safe.”

I reach up to my neck where I can still feel his hands trying to choke me.

“Here let me help. Your gown is up and twisted all around your neck. You’ve been having a nightmare.”

She assists me in restoring order and then I cling to her. She finally manages to break away and go to the phone, “Tan? It’s Pam. Kat’s had a pretty vicious nightmare. Something about her father. I think she’s still lost in it. Could you come down and help her? Thanks.”

“Kat, you’re okay honey. Tanner will be here is just a moment and he’ll help. Wow, you really made a mess of your bed, covers and blankets everywhere. You need to do something about those dreams of yours.”

There is a knock at the door and I nearly claw my way across Pam to try to get away from it. “It’s Dad, don’t let him in.”

Pam goes to the door and admits Tanner, “She’s still lost in it. She thought you were her Dad when you knocked.”

At this point my mind has finally settled on who these people are and Tan in particular. In moments I’m wrapped around him still babbling about my Dad.

“He broke my ribs again and said he would finish me this time. I’ll bet that bitch told him where I am.”

“Bitch? Which Bitch?”

“That... Elaine bitch.”

“It’s okay, Kat. She didn’t tell him and she isn’t here. Neither is he.”

I look around half expecting to see him crawl out from under one of the beds or burst out of a closet to come finish his job. My ribs hurt and when I rub my hand across them I can still feel pain. Not as sharp/ dull as when he broke them when I was only ten but still they hurt.

“My ribs hurt. It was so real.”

Pam returns with a cool washcloth and begins to wipe my face to remove the evidence of the tears and to sooth me a bit.

“Tanner. Who’s Mac?”

“Mac? I don’t... Oh, he was an assistant before Kat came along.”

Pam searches her mind, “Oh, I remember him. He didn’t stay very long and then suddenly Kat was... Ohmygosh.”

I’m still so out of it I haven’t yet put two and two together. I’m not yet convinced Dad isn’t going to pop out of the bathroom, he could have been hiding in the shower while Pam was in there.

“Tan, is Mac now Kat?”

“Pam, will you sit down and let me explain?” Tanner replies.

Pam latches onto me even though I’m latched onto Tanner, “Kat? You were a boy? Wow, you look so good. You’re a terrific girl. Are you going to stay this way? God, you should. You look great. I won’t tell a soul. Please tell me you’re going to stay like this. I can’t BELIEVE I didn’t see it. You’re beautiful. You’ll go far as a model.”

She finally puts the events of the two nightmare nights together and the half coherent conversation we had just a little earlier, “You tried to be yourself when you were little didn’t you? And your father beat you for it. I’m glad you survived, you make a beautiful girl. Can we still be girlfriends?”

Something she said finally breaks through my self imposed barrier of fear and I suddenly explode in her direction wrapping myself around her and sobbing again on her shoulder.

She recoiled for a moment and gave a small shriek as my move was so sudden but when she realised I wasn’t attacking her but instead was thankful she was supportive she relaxed once more. I’m still not certain what ‘supportive’ means to me. As I am an equal opportunity crybaby I just as quickly am back to Tanner’s shoulder sharing my tears on him as well. Pam goes and rinses the wash cloth returning to gently wipe my face.

Glancing at Tanner she does a double take, “Ohmigosh Tanner. When we get up in the morning you need to come here first thing so we may put some make-up on that. Or maybe you better call Irina in to do it. He could probably make it look more natural.”

I have finally returned from my adventure in never ever land and lean back to look at Tanner. The side of his face is already turning lightly black and blue with hints that it will go even deeper, and he has the most marvelous beginnings of a black eye. I’m surprised he gave me my ring back after I did that to him.

“Tan. I’m so sorry.” I kiss it to make it better as softly as I can because I know it must hurt, “I should have killed that bitch. I’m so sorry, honey.” I kiss him again.

“Just remember your penance. Kisses until it’s all better... Which I hope will take days, except for the pain. Maybe that could go away quickly.”

I let Pam see my, “men” stare and then lean back to Tanner once more, gently kissing his face.

“All right you two lovebirds, if you want me to be alert in the morning then you better decide if you, Tan, are going back to your room so we may sleep. Or perhaps you’re both going to his room so I may sleep.”

We quickly make our decisions and I grab what I need for morning and go with Tanner to sleep where I may be comforted quickly if Dad rears his ugly head again. Almost instantly after we leave I hear Pam shut off the room light.

The next morning while I’m getting dressed I realise there is one more person now who knows about me. I am working on my outline and collecting friends, REAL friends.

~O~

Most of the day goes just fine with we four girls doing our thing modeling some of the clothing we have modeled before in addition to that which is added at the new locations. Paris will be a change of pace since it will be a runway show as well as the location shoots. We are saying goodbye to Sasha who is remaining in Russia. She’s nearly a part of the family by now. Pam and Laura spoke with me a couple of days earlier and we each pooled some of our money then yesterday while they were playing tourist and I was playing nursemaid they purchased a parting gift which we gave to her today before we parted ways. My curiosity at our having been joined by a Russian model was quite subdued when she first arrived. I was surprised to learn she was one of Emerson’s. I guess his tentacles reach almost everywhere. I followed the lead of Pam and Laura and give Sasha a hug as we leave her behind. Remembering to do things like say goodbye as a girl doesn’t come all that easily.

Fortunately it wasn’t until we were on the plane to Paris that another of my self realizations came to me... What if I wasn’t a freaky boy but I was a freaky girl? I mean, what if maybe the chromosomes and this outside equipment were the mistake and not the girl body of which they were a small part???

That serves to confuse me very nicely, thank you. All my life I’ve thought I was a boy with a screwed up body and Dad kept drilling into me that I was a boy because I have a penis but... Well, we all know how screwed up Dad happens to be. How he could go from calm to outright berserker in less than a second always told me his marbles were a bit less than one hundred percent, probably a lot less than that. Then add in the Reverend’s rants and Dad operating like a parrot and you wind up with a certifiable nutcase. Did he turn me into one too?

God... How could I be so messed up? Look at me. I’ve spent my whole life living as a boy even though the few times I came close to dressing like a girl I was much happier but with the wrong equipment and with Dad’s ongoing rants I knew any thoughts I had about being one were pretty much imagination. But... what if he was wrong?

A child is supposed to be able to trust their parents, but... All these years and because my Dad is such an uneducated bigot I’m messed up. If I could have been a girl all my life where would I be now? Well... not here for one. I might have been a girl, but just another of many others. I might even have wound up pregnant from... no that couldn’t happen. So what would I have been? Someone who the boys would kiss and tell? Probably a whore on the streets. Dad didn’t want pansy girls, he needed he-boys to help at the business. Another reason he picked on me so much. I couldn’t help at the business since I was a ‘pansy’. How did Sis get treated so well then? Mom must have stared Dad down when it came to Sis. She usually could control him except when he went nuts. And my condition really sent him into the outer orbits.

Boy, Girl. Who cares? I’m me and I look like a girl. If I’d been allowed to grow up as a girl then all those injuries might have been avoided. I could have shown him at a much earlier age that I could take care of the books just like Mom. At least his beatings subsided a little when he learned I was good at that. No, they didn’t stop. Beating me had become a part of his life by then. Like giving a dog a chew toy and then expecting him not to chew it... doesn’t happen.

By the time I was twelve I don’t believe he even thought of me as his child any more. There was nothing I could do which would make him proud of me. I was just a freak, to be pounded until I became human or wound up six feet under. Preferably the latter.

I wonder how I would have responded to love? Real love? I think part of the pain was growing up in a house where no one loved me. If I ever have kids somehow, they will be loved. Even if I’m the only one who can do it, they will be loved. Especially the girls. Why not the boys? I guess I can thank Dad for that. It’s very difficult for me to feel a nurturing emotion for a boy. But what of Tanner? I feel something for him, especially for what I did to him. Then too there is the satisfaction and pride I felt... feel, in having him as my fiancee.

Oh hell, who am I trying to kid? This is just a show to keep Emerson out of my panties so he won’t kill me. If I really were a girl Tanner and I would have played post office while we were in his room. If he even thought of me as a girl he would probably have tried to get me to act the part and let him have his way with me either orally or in my butt... excuse me, I guess a girl would say derriere. Jeez, now that I think about it, even when I see myself in a mirror my whole body screams girl if you discount those bits hanging down below. Fine. All this is serving to make me think I should be a girl but what about the seventeen years I’ve spent as a boy. They’re worth something. My mannerisms are... Well... both I guess. Okay, so there isn’t much about me which screams boy but still seventeen years are worth a lot. I mean , like, that’s all my life. I can’t just flick a switch and walk away from it suddenly saying girl. I mean how I look isn’t the whole story. How I was raised counts for a lot too.

But what if I was raised wrong just because Dad wanted boys to help do the heavy work in the business? I can’t even begin to think about that yet. I wasn’t any good at that part of the business anyway.

The noise in the cabin suddenly becomes louder and I open my eyes to discover we are landing, “Pam. What’s wrong?”

She looks at me funny, “We’re landing.”

“I know that, but why?”

She shrugs, “We’re at Paris. Did you have a nice nap?”

NAP? I didn’t even know my eyes were closed. Paris? We couldn’t have been flying for hours... could we? I’ve got so much more to think about now.
~O~

We couldn’t walk to our hotel this time so it takes us nearly two hours to get everything collected with a call about the missing bus which was supposed to meet us. Turns out it’s over at the freight terminal waiting for our stuff which has instead come within the same plane as did we. The bus finally arrives and everything is loaded then we are off to the hotel and tomorrow we will begin again. This evening we meet three more of Emerson’s models who will be with us for the four days we are in Paris. The three of them speak English as well as French and will act as interpreters for the rest of our group. Days one and two are spent on location with day three playing walking clothes racks on a runway most of the afternoon. We had the morning free. The last day is spent basically touring and taking a lot of impromptu photos. I happily join in since this fits in well for my scrapbook.

By now Pam has joined me in acting like a camera bug. She doesn’t have a computer though so we wind up downloading her photos to my computer and she and I spend a couple of hours together looking at and editing our photos before we get out our things to wear in the morning then pack everything else so we will be ready to depart promptly. We store her photos in a folder under her name and a subfolder labeled Paris. There aren’t enough photos in her folder to come close to being more than just noticeable on a CD so I convince her to wait until she has more then we may offload them all onto one disk. I must be more of a shutterbug than she happens to be. Well... It’s fun and if I don’t like some of the photos I can just erase them. Besides, Tan wants most of them so I’m taking a lot for him. Rationalization, isn’t it great?

Looking at the photos I think about how we obtained them and how we really don’t know anything about those things we photographed. I’ve always thought about the models traveling to exotic foreign locations and then spending nearly all their time on tours learning about the city they are in. This trip has taught me that very little time is available for that pastime and most of it is spent working. I really haven’t learned much about any of the cities which we have visited nor even had time for a tour. I probably learned more through the InterNet or from books available to tourists, than the models do who are actually being there. The only time I was even near a landmark was when Tan was snapping pictures of us. If I got withing fifty feet of actually touching something historic it was a miracle. It’s all a bit disappointing.

When we arrived back at our hotel, Pam and I download our pictures to the computer and I bring up Irfanview to quickly check them. They all seem to be okay. Nothing glaring and... wait a minute.

Okay, something’s not quite right here. Pam’s photos are about 2 Megs each with “.jpg” behind them. My photos are around thirty Megs each with “.crq.ccr.oj” behind them. Her hundred or so photos came close to filling her memory card, mine... who knows?

Okay, I need to talk with Tanner again. I borrow her camera and examine it alongside mine and can’t see any major differences. They look the same to me. Mine is maybe a little heavier, not a lot. I take the batteries out and check the weight again. Okay, now my camera is obviously heavier. Her batteries are Lithium and mine are Lithium — they seem to weigh about the same. I put in a call for Tanner again.

“Pam, may I borrow your camera for a little while? I’d like to show Tanner something about our cameras.”

“Well, I don’t know. I might want to take some pictures while I”m sleeping. Of course you can borrow it, would you remember to put the batteries on charge when you get back?”

“Sure. Mine need charging too so that will remind me. Thank you.”

“Certainly. See you in the morning and you and Tanner behave yourselves.” Then her face changes as she realises what she said just before her face turns red.

“We will. I know what you mean, Pam. Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

Tanner and I get together about twenty minutes later and I’m demonstrating the differences in our cameras.

“I still think I have the wrong camera. Couldn’t you please check with them just for my own peace of mind?”

“Okay, Kat. It seems like a waste of time to me but I’ll run it past Tony. When they say you have the right camera will you give it a rest after that?”

“If they confirm my camera isn’t something from out of a James Bond movie then, yes, I’ll stop pestering you about it.”

I returned to my room and placed the batteries on charge before preparing for bed. Pam was already out like a light but she’s an early morning person while I’m more of a nine or ten o’clock type.

Our time in Paris draws to a close and we say good bye to the girls who joined us here. We also lose Laura who is flying home for another couple of shoots she has scheduled before she takes off for another semester of college which begins only a week later. Smart girl, she’s using the modeling to pay for her education so when she graduates she won’t have umpteen hundred student loans to pay off.

At our next stop, Milan, we are joined by six girls who will be with us during the five days both here and in Rome. These girls are all Emerson’s with one having been ‘interviewed’ several times ending only a week earlier. That clues us that Emerson was ‘around’ but just not in our immediate vicinity. That means there are now eight of us and this time we spent a day on the runway and a day on location in each city. Pam and I managed somehow to actually go on a couple of tours. I wish we could have done that while in Paris. Anyway we got a lot of great photos. The runway lessons my coach drilled into me mercilessly for those four days back home paid off and I actually looked like I knew what I was doing. Enough so that those six beauties didn’t question my abilities. One of them acted a bit like Bianca but at least she wasn’t doing drugs.

We still haven’t seen Emerson during the tour but expect he will pop up sometime soon since the hints of his presence have placed him all around our periphery. After Milan and Rome there were only two more cities. If he shows up at all it will probably be in London since we will be there for five days versus Madrid being only three.

Tanner and I have been spending a little more time together since Moscow just to keep up appearances. Usually we look at the super detail images both from his camera and mine. His camera’s images put mine to shame and they have that same funny suffix following their picture names. His files are about twice the size of mine. That still has me wondering about my camera since he tells me his professional model “costs around $8500 or so.” About a quarter of the photos I’ve taken have been ‘suggestions’ given by him in the form of mild gestures hidden away from nearly everyone else. I don’t know why he wants them but he seems happy with the results. I suppose this means I’m being a spy. One of the tours Pam and I took in Milan was set up by Tanner and there were five of us on it including the tour guide. The only instructions Tanner gave to me were, “take a lot of photos. If you can, shoot everything and come back with your memory card full or your batteries dead, as if that’s possible.”

I continue to bug him for the answer from Tony concerning my camera.

The tour lasted nearly an hour and a half. I was shooting three or four photos a minute so when I returned to move the photos from the camera to the computer the count was nearly four hundred. That’s a bit confusing since my memory card is only supposed to be able to hold slightly over a hundred and fifty or so. I suppose the faceless ones back in the states ‘sold’ me a memory card that is a bit more than it seems, just like my camera. I wonder if they know how confusing their little games are?

I’m worried about these images being damaged a bit like what happens when the film doesn’t advance and you wind up taking photos on top of each other. They all looked just fine though and the random half dozen Tanner looked at more closely show no sign of any problems. In fact he is really happy with several of the one’s I took as we drove by some University. I shot three of the whole area and three, zoomed in, of the buildings far down the avenue about two blocks away.

He tries not to seem overly excited about them but I could tell he is pleased. They just looked like interesting buildings. The tour guide didn’t say much about them except that they were some University of some kind. I learned later that it wasn’t the University which attracted Tanner’s attention but the Russian consulate which was shown clearly in my zoomed shots with all those funny antenna thingies and the big boxes sitting on the roof.

Tanner looked at Pam’s images too and there are a few things she caught on ‘film’ which I missed. Tanner simply says, “I think I’ll send both of you to a short class which will help you decide what to shoot and also help you learn how to compose your shots a little better. Your scrapbooks might wind up looking more professional than that of the average tourist. We might even make photographers out of the both of you.”

I’m not opposed to this. It could be fun. Pam might enjoy it too. As a reward I lean into Tanner and give him a kiss... Yes, on the lips, I am his fiancee after all. Got to keep up appearances, you know, and I like the expressions I get from him sometimes when I do this. Beside that, he says his face is still a bit sore although his colour looks to be returning slowly to normal.

to be continued

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

The six Italian models remain behind as we packed up and moved on to Madrid. Here everything is location shooting causing us to range far afield sometimes traveling for several hours to go spend an hour or two shooting a half dozen outfits apiece. Here we have picked up two Spanish models so there are four of us. Unfortunately we don’t speak Spanish and they don’t speak English so Tanner and Kaitlyn do all the talking during the sessions.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

I’ve been thinking (it seems I’m doing that a lot lately... even when I’m asleep). As I mentioned, I’ve been thinking... I know, so what’s new? These thoughts are. They’re about the clothing we are modeling. I’ve noticed at each city there have been a few things which have remained the same or nearly the same but with some subtle differences which I suppose are culture oriented. Things about which I had never given any thought before. Skirt suit lapels and cuffs or the lack thereof; some subtle changes to the actual shaping of the clothing. How both they and the blazers and skirts seem to change in style slightly dependent upon the country.

Then too, there are some styles which seem to be ‘locked’ into a country and seldom appear in the others. I suppose if I wanted to appear Spanish or Italian all I would need to do is learn the language and adopt the clothing and hair styles of that country and I would be accepted in another as having probably originated in my ‘adopted’ country.

The few clothing items which I was allowed to retain are country specific due to these subtle differences. I think I shall try to see if this holds true when we go to London. I give it some thought and determine that even in the United States some women are thought of as ‘exotic’ and foreign simply because of their manner of dress and the accent in their speech. I wonder if this is part of how spies blend into the countries to which they have gone? I need to give this some more thought, perhaps I’ll speak with Tanner about it.

Once again we drive some distance for a few of our location shoots and Tanner explained some time ago that he wants me taking a lot of photos at every location to keep up my ‘Fashionable Photographer’ guise. I’m just as happy since many will go into my scrapbook. This is getting to be fun. I’m a spy. Well... almost.

Who would have thought as I was growing up that I would be spying? Then I have another thought, there were times when I wondered if I would even be allowed to grow up. Now I not only need to address that but decide how I may become the boy I’m supposed to be. Duh, I forgot. I can’t be the boy I’m supposed to be because I can’t have any children. That sucks big time. Of course Dad would be overjoyed to hear that little tidbit. More of me running around in the world is something that would have him up in arms. Why does that hurt so much?

“Katrina! Wake up, you’re up.”

I look around confused for a moment then suddenly rush over to perform like the trained seal I am, turning and posing on cue. If they want me to start barking or playing the horns they’ll have another think coming.

“Hold your camera up like you are taking a picture,” So I do, of Tanner taking my picture.

“No, that blocks your face and the front of the dress too much. Just hold the camera up at an angle like you’re trying to decide what to shoot next.”

Don’t give me a gun and ask me to do the same thing.

I lower the camera then hold it in one hand as I look into the distance finally seeing something I would like to photograph and as soon as the next request comes for me to change position again I bring up my camera and zoom on the person taking three rapid photos before lowering the camera and assuming the pose requested. Pam meanwhile has been taking photographs of her own.

“Ladies, could I get a little cooperation here?”

We looked at each other then back at Tanner before nearly simultaneously saying, “No,” then we began laughing as he was shaking his head before suddenly snapping his camera up and taking five or six photos of the two of us laughing.

“That was great. Could the two of you stand over by the fountain?”

We do a provocative runway walk toward the fountain which has Tanner scurrying ahead of us in order to be in position to snap pics as we approach the fountain itself. We can hear the ‘click, click, click, click, click...’ of his camera which is capable of some pretty fast high definition photography. It can even do several minutes of high definition movie if it doesn’t have many still photos already in memory. It is capable of even more if it can download to a computer on the fly. If he was going to do full motion photography like he did that first day I walked on a runway then he would put a special card in the camera instead of a memory card so the camera could download to the notebook rapidly in real time.

Even so his camera can hold a LOT of photos but his computer accepts many thousands and acts like it doesn’t even know they are there. At least my little notebook shows that the empty space on the hard drive is diminishing with each download I make from my camera. I suppose sometime soon I will need to move all those photos to a disk (or two) for safe keeping so I may make room for more. The last time I checked I still have one hundred forty-seven GB available down from a hundred fifty-five. I suppose that’s good.

That suddenly brings another thought to the forefront of what has been posing as my mind. My notebook came from the same people as the camera... so what did they do to it besides add the image software? Never mind, I don’t think I want to know. At least, not right now. I’ll wait until sometime when I’m good and angry at them.

I’m suddenly struck by another thought. I know, enough already. But this one is really weird. I mean... I know Dad’s the heavy in my life. Well... along with the ‘good’ Reverend. And Tanner is sort of a spy. I guess he’s a spy anyway. I mean, he and his buddies never answer a question directly and basically sit in the background without bringing a lot of attention to themselves while they are doing whatever it is they are doing. After all, how many people do you know who have a shooting range in their basement? You do? You’re kidding, right? Don’t confuse me; nobody knows someone who has a shooting range in their basement! Okay, then, what about digital cameras which are really high definition super picture thing-a-ma-jiggies? I think I can safely assign Tanner a better than seventy percent possibility of being some kind of spy.

Now with both of the above revelations then where does that leave me? This is where my thoughts became a bit weird. I’m a guy... but here I am these last four to six weeks running around in skirts and dresses and answering to a girl’s name. Well, I’m answering to my name but I changed it to a girl’s name and I have ID and a passport in that name. Is that sick or what? Back to the question anyway. What does that make me but the comic relief of the story? So granting that, then where’s the writer or group of writers of this little farce?

I mean they have to be around here somewhere so they know what to write don’t they? I should be able to see them at some point in time. This stuff doesn’t just happen to people in real life does it? I mean, this can’t really be happening to me. I’m just going to wake up and discover it’s all been some kind of a weird dream and I’m going to be a normal looking guy and everything is going to be normal. No broken bones, no getting pounded all the time and no skirts and dresses. Come on wake up. Please? Katrina, wake up. Hey, come on, wake up...

“...Katrina, will you pay attention? Hey, wake up over there! What’s the matter with you today?”

I look around and once again discover my little nightmare/dream/whatever is still blazing away in all it’s totally illogical and vividly technicolour glory.
~O~

Tanner repeated his instructions and I did my best to follow them, glancing at Pam who seems a bit worried, presumably about my lapses of attention.
We finished this shoot, made longer by my departures from whatever this is, and once again packed everything into the hired bus so we can ride back to the Madrid hotel.

On the way back I’m again preoccupied with thoughts about my life past, present and future. Who am I? What am I? You know, all the usual trivia. A few small thoughts tickle my funny bone from time to time before settling into darker memories and musings. The three hour ride brings no answers but at least it has sharpened my questions... or at least my most important question. What am I? Who has taken a back seat to What. I may change my name to fit the What but I can’t so easily change the What to fit the Who.

It seems to me that I have two choices. I may be a boy which looks like a girl in which case the joke is on everyone; or, I may be a girl who really is a boy in which case the joke is on me and whatever doctor happens to be examining me.

Being either a boy or a girl is out of the question because the DNA and external organs, which when considered with the rest of my body and it’s internal organs manages to argue in opposite directions. If I use my past life as my source of inspiration then I’m a boy because that is the way I was raised. But, if I use my past life as my inspiration then I am a girl since that is way I look and the way I would likely receive the fewest beatings in the future. I’m screwed no matter which way I go.

As I see it, the best thing that is happening at the moment is the money. I will earn enough if I continue to do this that I will be able to afford completing whichever way I finally decide to go. The downside? Once there, there will be no turning back. Therefore, I must make the correct choice and go with it for the rest of my life. I guess that means I should be a boy or maybe a girl. That’s what I like about thinking... positive and definitive answers - - - maybe I should be a spy. I laugh again, I wonder if spies are gender non-specific?

I wonder if this is what people mean when they say they are in information overload? I manage to while away the ride back to the hotel while resolving absolutely nothing.

“I have a headache.” I tell Tan when he suggests we get together this evening to go over the photos we have taken during the day. I even skip supper and go early to bed.

The following morning I’m a mess but manage to pull myself together so I’m able to go out with everyone for the final morning’s photo shoots. We pack up and empty our hotel rooms putting our luggage into the hired bus along with everything else and after breakfast Tanner and Kaitlyn check us out of the hotel. Today goes much better for me than yesterday did. When Tanner suggests during the first shoot that we look at our photos as we are flying to London I readily agree. Sleep and food have helped me to become a little more mellow today. I wonder if I’ll ever get over the poundings and betrayals? I wonder if I’ll ever be able to decide who or what I am?

‘Gee Mommy, what’s that?’

‘That’s an object lesson dear. You don’t want to be like it.’

I need to stop thinking like this... it’s depressing.

Pam and I managed to take more photos today although not as many since we don’t have a great deal of time. I snapped a few as we were riding in the bus but don’t have great hopes for them turning out. The motion of the bus may be so fast as to ruin them. The more I think about it, the more that photo class interests me.

We arrived at the airport and unloaded everything, saying goodbye before the driver takes the Spanish girls back into the city proper so they can return home. Meanwhile we are checking into another airport again. This time it’s not so bad and we are quickly in the terminal lounge waiting for our plane. I snap a few photos here and, upon finding a power outlet, plug in my computer using the adapter then transfer my photos from my camera to my computer. Tan does the same for his and we begin looking at each others photos. The few of his which he wants to see on my viewing program he copies off his memory card into my computer and we call them up on the screen. His camera really does have some fantastic detail. It really does put my little camera to shame.

He seems satisfied with his photos and all those he has taken thus far for the client have been acceptable. I don’t see how he can miss since he takes so many. I’ll bet when he had to use film it was quite an expense.

“Tan, you really should consider continuing in this business. We could likely make it a great cover for your other work. We could also do documentaries or travel promotional works which would afford us the opportunity to go to other locations. Or perhaps travel programs. Things which the countries you need to go to would like to have accomplished. Of course there would always be some which wouldn’t work out but it’s something to think about. I’m willing to model or pose in the photos. I might even manage a few myself since they likely wouldn’t expect my scrapbook photos to be very important.”

“Do you realize what you’re saying, Katrina? It could be very dangerous.”

“As dangerous as living at home with my father for nearly seventeen years?”

“More.”

I pout, “More dangerous than dead? I’m fortunate to have lived this long.”

Our boarding call is heard and I shut down my notebook then stow it in it’s carry case along with the power supply. Ten minutes later we are on board and fifteen or so after that we are pushing back so we may taxi out and take off. As I am becoming an old hand at this I’m nearly napping as we roar down the runway and lift into the air.

Later, since Tan and I have already spent an hour looking at photos and really have little more we wish to do in that area, I go check Pam to learn if she needs to move photos from her camera to the computer.

“I’ll wait until we are in our hotel room. I’d like to take some more when we land and are on the way to the hotel.”

That comment puzzles me as I remember when we popped through Heathrow on the way to Paris that someone had commented to me that the flight back would be the same way with no time in London. Maybe I’m returning to the US ahead of everyone else. I go back to my seat and pull my ticket out of my purse going through it to check. It indicates I have five days in London and I’m fairly certain I was returning all the way on my former ticket which was converted so Elaine could return early.

“Tan? Do you have a moment?”

“Sure Kat. What’s up?”

“A mystery. Remember when we went through Heathrow on the way to Paris?”

“Yeah? So?”

“Well while I was gone looking around someone checked my ticket to see if I would have a chance to see something of London on the way back. They showed me on the ticket that I would not be staying over but would change planes and go straight back to the US.”

“Whoa. I’ll have to fix that as soon as we get to London. You need to stay with us while we’re there.”

“Tan, listen. That was my old ticket remember?”

“Old tick... Oh, yeah the one you cashed in so you could return early. Okay what does this ticket say?”

“I have a five day layover just like you want.”

“Great. So what’s the problem?”

“Why did my original ticket have me returning early if I was supposed to be staying with the rest of you?”

“No idea. It hardly matters now though, does it?”

“Tanner! Where did you get the original tickets? Who told you which tickets went to what people?”

“Emerson’s people... Ah... I think I see what you’re getting at. That would have had you returning five days ahead of the rest of us and you would have been without protection.”

“Exactly.”

Tan thinks about that for a bit, “Okay, I can have someone watch at the airport when your plane would have arrived to see if any of Emerson’s people are there waiting for you. I’ll also go have a little talk with Kaitlyn and see what her itinerary shows. She has been quite ‘up front’ with me during the tour. Elaine or Emerson may have had something planned. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you.”

Tanner exchanged seats with Pam which allowed the two of us to talk for a bit while Tanner and Kaitlyn had their little discussion. Tanner returned about the time the flight attendants were coming down the aisle preparing everything for our eventual landing.

“I’ll let you know everything after we land and get to our hotel. Just so you know though I think your suspicions were correct. At least partially so.”

~O~

We finally arrived at the hotel and after some adjustments to the occupancy of the various rooms, Pam and I were sharing a room once again. I wanted to speak with Tanner but he had made his way to a telephone and was making some sort of arrangements, he motioned to me to go ahead. I presumed that meant we would talk a little later.

Perhaps fifteen minutes or so passed before he was knocking at our door. When Pam answered it Tan came walking in which allowed the three of us to chat for a few minutes before he began to get down to business. I’m still thinking he has been placing us together all of the time so she may chaperone me. Perhaps not exactly in that capacity but indirectly.

When the conversation slowly flowed around to the difference in my original ticket and the lack of a reservation for me at this hotel Tan asked, “Kat, do you have any photos of Elaine? I’d like to take a look at them if you do.”

“I don’t know. I think so. Perhaps not alone but with others.”

“That’ll work. Pull out your computer and let’s have a look.”

Pam takes the hint, “Maybe I should go downstairs for a bit.”

Tan smiles at her, “What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

“I was thinking of something along that line. It would be interesting to learn one day what sort of things you two really do.”

I look at her, “What I really do is model.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m a rocket scientist.” She goes out the door.

I turn to Tanner, “What did she mean by that? What have you been telling her about me?”

“I haven’t said a word.” He goes into his wronged little boy defense, “I can’t help it if she’s putting things together wrong.”

“Not much, you can’t.” I retort before giving him more of a benefit of a doubt, “Here are three photos of Elaine taken when I was getting pictures of some of the girls.”

Tanner looks at them and asks me to dump all three off onto a disk so he may send them to Washington. “I’ve asked them to send someone to see if either Elaine or Emerson arrive to meet you at the airport when the plane you would have been on arrives at JFK. By the way, Kaitlyn’s information about you indicates you are one of Emerson’s girls.”

“But that’s not true.”

“I know that. I informed Kaitlyn that you are under contract to me, not to Emerson. She has a copy of a contract in her computer which supposedly you signed with Emerson and I don’t have a copy here of the one you signed with me so right now it’s a case of he said, she said.”

“I have a copy of it. Just a moment.” I go and check my files pulling the contract, glancing at it quickly and handing it to Tanner. He looks it over and nods his head.

“I’m going to take this downstairs and have it copied.”

“Before you go I want to photograph it... every page.”

Tanner takes my camera and quickly shoots copies of the document then hands my camera back to me and accepts the disk with Elaine’s photos on it before he winks at me, kisses my cheek and goes out to have my contract copied. I don’t see Tan again until after supper and must remind him that I want my copy of the contract back. He promises to return it to me in the morning.

“Thank you, by the way. I was able to convince Kaitlyn that Emerson was trying to pull a fast one. The signature on his contract didn’t even come close to your own. She would like to talk with you about it and to see your identification to compare signatures but she knows the sort of games he is famous for and is leaning with me at the moment. I pointed out that I was also extremely unlikely to have my fiancee signed with someone else. That bought some points too.”

“So he really was trying to pull a fast one?”

“Looks like it. Just what ‘it’ happens to be is anyone’s guess at the moment but I doubt it would mean your virtue would remain intact.”

“Remind me to make him sing soprano when next we meet.”

“Now Kat. No antagonizing the clients.”

“What about antagonizing perverts?”

“I think I might grant you some leeway in that respect. Especially concerning Emerson.”

“Even though you’ve been trying to land his account for awhile? By the way, why are you so interested in his account? Is your agency interested in keeping tabs on him?”

“Kat, you’re entirely too smart for my own good. All I’ll say is ‘Tony’. Oh, If I stay in this business as a cover then we could branch into the things you mentioned. In that case I think we might be pretty busy and Emerson won’t be an 800 pound gorilla any more. When we get back, would you consider taking a few photography and cinematography courses at the farm? Of course you won’t be able to get away from some of their more mundane courses but we might investigate the possibility of working together in this business as well as growing into something more multinational than just the modeling business.”

“Would I get to ride horses?”

“I’ll ask Tony if they would get some in so you could go riding.”

“There might be others who would like to do that as well.”

“Possibly. Have you ever heard of Equestrian Events and Dressage?”

“Yes. The Lipizzaner Stallions.”

“Well, yes. That’s a part of it. The events occupy three parts; cross country, event jumping and Dressage or the finesse of control. These may be combined in various ways although in the Olympics they are usually separate parts of the events. In Europe it is also done that way but there are times when two or even all three may be combined into a single presentation. These are all derived from the long ago use of horses in war. The need to be capable of long endurance and to jump unexpected obstacles as well as form a shoulder to shoulder rank to press into the crowd of enemy infantry or to carry a sabre wielding soldier into the enemy’s midst to wreak havoc and then successfully escape again. It’s a long tradition and the horses are bred and trained specifically for that task. The sport today carries many of the requirements which were necessary to maintain life long ago. The moves and routines are still applicable. Some mounted police still use portions of the steps developed long ago.”

“So learning them could allow someone the use of a horse in a form of combat?”

“Not exactly, Kat. But in some circumstances the knowledge could prove beneficial to the rider if they are on a well trained horse that also understands the events.”

“They must be expensive. The horses I mean.”

“Usually. An unproven horse might go for less but that would depend upon the parentage and the ability of the young horse to accept training.”

“Some day if I could afford such a horse would that be another way we could get into a country in which the photography wouldn’t likely take us?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’ll ask Tony. It seems as though you are making plans for both of us to spend more time together...”

“Well...” I wiggle my engagement ring at him, “We are engaged, aren’t we? And I’m allowed to have other interests than just modeling and taking photographs, aren’t I?”

“I suppose. So you have decided to become a woman?”

“NO,” I say with a bit more force than I intended. “I haven’t made a choice. That’s still something which is difficult for me to grasp. I have valid arguments for each and neither.” I answer with some sadness as I turn away from him.

“Are you all right, Kat?

“Yes.”

“Then turn around and let me see your face.”

I raise my head and turn to let him look at me. No tears have flowed. They may be just under the surface but they’re not on my face. He pulls me gently to him and stands there holding me close. I lean my head down against him and let him hold me. What if I become a woman? Would he still want to hold me? Would I be the kind of person he would like and might we actually become married? Or is this all an act which he must promote since we are supposedly engaged? Then again do I even want that to happen? What if I want to become a woman but not be engaged to him? What if I want to become a male and have nothing to do with this engagement or dressing like a woman business? What am I? How do I make this decision?

“Tan, I need to be alone for a while. I’m sorry, I just need some time for myself. And while I happen to think of it, what have you heard about my camera?”

He grimaces before he answered, “Nothing yet, Kat. Tony’s still checking. See you in the morning?” He gives me a little kiss, pulling me to him and we kiss lips to lips. I grab a Kleenex and wipe my lipstick from his lips before opening the door to let him out.

“Goodnight, Tan. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He winks at me and walks out and down the hall as I close the door. My mind moves rapidly back into the contemplation which had begun while he was standing there holding me.

When I left home, emancipated to a degree because I couldn’t survive there; the short time I was living and working on my own as a male I was doing okay but still not doing all that well. Now here I am dressing as a female and pulling down big bucks. Well — medium bucks at any rate. This world is a wacky place. As a male who is disguised as a female, I’m doing okay. Better than okay, I’m making money which will allow me to act upon my final decision, whatever that might be. I pull out a coin and flip it... heads I’m a boy, tails I’m a girl... It comes up heads. What a stupid way to make such an important decision.

to be continued

How I wonder What You Are

I spent at least an hour laying there in bed thinking about all this before Pam returned finding my eyes closed as I contemplated my fate. Some of the lights were on so she began preparing for bed and finally shut off the lights going to her own bed. I guess she thought I was asleep as she didn’t say anything and had only whispered my name a couple of times when she first came in.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

I don’t know how long I lay there thinking but it was a while. I was stuck thinking before she returned, then the entire time she prepared for bed, and however long it took before she went to sleep. Her breathing gradually became slower and shallower so I know she’s asleep. My mind, on the other hand, is still going a mile a minute and won’t allow me to sleep or, at least, if I’m sleeping then my mind is awake. I don’t know how I’m ever going to resolve this issue. It must happen though so I can ‘have a life’. Maybe if I look toward the future... What kind of life could I have as a male? My shape would necessarily cause me problems just as it always has unless the doctors could do something about it to make me look more masculine. That might likely require a lot of very invasive surgical changes to my body. Even then I could not have children.

Okay then, what if I become a woman... Well, I can’t, but I mean what if I look like a woman. I’m nearly there and all they would need to do is remove that outside stuff and fix whatever it is they said was incomplete inside me. I could have sex but once again... no children. I’m fucked either way. Becoming a woman would be a little easier if I’m understanding all this stuff correctly but do I want that? After all I’ve just spent over ten years trying to become more masculine and seven trying to understand why dad seemed angry at me all the time. If I switch to being a woman then I can’t ever go home.

If we look at my past, I’ve been living as a male. Even now, I’m not living as a female but as a male who looks like a female. What would be different? If I was a female that looks like a female, what would I do that’s different from the way I’m doing it now?

I think I would have had a very different childhood. I also would have had much more time to learn to be a woman and to hone my skills. I would have learned how to ask men to do things for me without promising them anything. I would have learned how I should act in hundreds of different situations without giving myself away as being something I’m not supposed to be. I wonder if the ‘farm’ could give me training in that? I’ll ask Tanner tomorrow. If I’m going to be a female spy then I need to be completely convincing... As a female I mean, not as a spy. Well - yes, as a spy too. Er... I mean... Oh crap... you know what I mean.

I continued to think during what seems like all night. I don’t know if I ever slept since I opened my eyes to the morning call only to discover I was still thinking. I think my headache is worse.

“Oh! Please close those curtains, Pam.”

“Oh, have a hang-over do we?”

“No. Just a terrible headache.”

“I was going to say, I didn’t see you drinking anything. Why the headache?”

“Personal problems.”

“That time of the mo... Oh, sorry. I guess it wouldn’t be that. What’s wrong? Anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you have a magic wand which can change my past as well as my present and future.”

“Change your past?”

“Yes and either make it good for me as a boy or cause me to have been a girl from birth.”

“Oh. I see. I never really knew you as a boy but you make a really sweet young woman. I’m sorry, but I can’t imagine you as a boy other than the few times I saw you at Tanner’s studio but even then I thought you were a girl who was trying to be butch. No offense intended.”

“None taken, Pam. It’s just my life has been so difficult and now I’m earning enough money to sometime maybe be able to do something about it but I need to decide which way to go. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for years but now that I’m earning the money to maybe really do something about it I can’t make a decision. All my life I’ve been trying to be a boy even though I’ve been getting pounded for looking like a girl. Looking like a girl isn’t my fault but everyone acted like it was. I guess they thought because I looked this way then that meant that I was trying to be a girl. Other than a few times to try and see if people would accept me as a female, it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I really began to dress like a girl and that was caused by a rainstorm. Now, I keep looking around so I may avoid anyone who could be waiting to pound me into the ground again. If I decide to become a woman, what will that mean, and will I be accepted? It’s one thing to do this for a short time and something else entirely to begin living the rest of my life as a girl.”

“But aren’t you doing that now, Kat?”

“Not exactly. I still think of myself as a male but acting female and wearing feminine clothing. What I wonder about is how people will accept me if I think of myself as a girl. Will they see me as a girl or will they always see a boy who is trying to be a girl? Or the other way around, if I decide to be a boy the rest of my life. Will they see a boy or will they see a weird girl who is trying to act like a boy? Either way I get killed.”

“I understand to a limited degree. What would happen if you don’t give a damn about other people and instead become one or the other for yourself? You must live with your final decision the rest of your life. Which would you rather be?”

I think about that some more finally answering, “I don’t know. I’m so afraid I’ll make the wrong choice and end up looking like something which I can’t accept as being really me. I wish I could see the future to see how I would be accepted as I grow older. What if I choose being a girl and then twenty years from now suddenly fill out as a guy? Or the other way around?”

“I think the first thing to decide is who you are. What do you like to do? With whom do you like to associate? If you had to spend eternity as someone and you could be anyone, then who would it be? Don’t make your selection based upon your past but on the future instead. If you could be anyone, famous or not, who would you be and why? Would you be good at it and would others be likely to accept you in that role? I imagine there would be many other questions as well but I think the future is the place to be looking and not the past. What’s done, is done.

What is to come may be honey or it may be hailstones. You must choose the path you think will be the most likely to follow the honey. Life never does that without a few ventures into the other side but the majority is that which should concern you. Could you have a fulfilling life as a male? Or would it be better as a female? Which stands the greatest chance of providing you with what you want from life? Who do you feel you really are or could be?”

She turns away from me, “I’m probably not being very helpful. It isn’t as if you haven’t probably asked yourself these questions every day. I’m sorry I’m not much help.”

“You have been, Pam. True, I’ve thought about a lot of that before but I’ve almost always been thinking of the past not the future. Thanks...”

Someone begins pounding on our door, “Hey you two. It’s breakfast, shake a leg.”

We begin rushing around trying to get ready to go out for another day of fun and games.
~O~

Pam and I made it downstairs in time to have at least a little to eat before we all began running around to do the first of the promotional stills.

We also took our little cameras with us and just as before, the two of us collectively are taking nearly as many photos as is Tanner. This occasionally attracts a little attention but mostly it is people whom I suppose are wondering if we are famous models and who are seemingly disappointed that they cannot decide about that. Sometimes we are also the subjects of tourist’s photos. At least I think they’re tourists. Tourists taking photos of tourists taking photos. It’s all very exciting and very strange. I’m having a wonderful time now and again trying to understand some of the people we meet since their accent is so thick I can barely understand them even though I believe they are speaking English (probably better than am I). The five days go quickly, or not quickly enough, depending upon my mental gymnastics, as the time to return to the U.S. looms closer and closer.

After a particularly long day, Tan and I were having supper together at the hotel restaurant while we discussed some of the things which have been occupying my mind so much of late.

“Will I be going to the ‘Farm’ to learn photography? Pam would like to go through the course, too.”

“Uh... Kat, this isn’t a normal photography course. This will teach you to take better photos but it will also teach you how to compose your shots so you include a lot of what needs to be learned as well as the cover material. Most of what you would be shooting really wouldn’t be very sensitive so it would be more of ‘the lay of the land’ sort of thing.”

“Would the photos be something I could put in my scrapbook as we go around the world?”

“Well... Yeah, I suppose so. It would teach you to take photos which are better composed so your scrapbook would look more professional. I suppose you would take fewer more composed photos than just taking pictures of everything you see.”

“That nasty man doesn’t teach the course does he?”

“Nasty??? Oh...” he chuckles, “No he doesn’t teach that one. I think you would also probably need self defense and some shooting as well.”

“I should think so, especially before I have one of his classes.”

“That’s not what I meant, Kat.”

As I think about receiving self defense training, I may see myself as a mass of bruises all with the caveat that it is training rather than a beating. A rose by any other name...

“My father doesn’t teach the self-defense course does he?”

“Your father??? OH... No he doesn’t. It really is learning self-defense Kat. Broken bones only occur as a result of an accident and not as a matter of course. In your case the instructors will also be told that you have a number of improperly healed injuries so they will be more careful. If you had known this stuff when your father was beating you then he would have learned to stop in short order.”

“Or killed me in my sleep more likely.”

“Was it really that bad?” He puts his hand on mine and looks at me with concern in his eyes. I’m beginning to think he really means it.

“Tan, even now I can feel the bones snap.” as I shiver at the thought.

“Kat, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am you went through all that.”

“When would I begin the courses and how long do they take?”

“I can probably get you into the first one in about a month. They are nearly nine months in length but may be spread out over several years to fit in with whatever schedule you need to be following. Although you would need to take them in four to six week increments.”

“So how long before I’m able to defend myself?”

“Against most people, you would be in a good position after your first six weeks. Against someone with similar training you probably would need the whole 40 weeks. Again, that would be in four to six week increments. If, due to an intervening assignment, you don’t finish an increment then you repeat it when you return from whatever assignment took you away.”

“So I would be looking at a year or two of bruises which could affect my opportunities to model and earn money. I bruise easily.”

“I see what you mean. That could be a bit of a problem. I would need to check into it to see what could be done to minimize bruising.”

“Would I have any time for myself?”

“Lot’s of it.”

“So if they have horses I could also learn to ride?”

“Yes... I still haven’t checked on the horses, though.”

“Is there any way they might have some courses which I could use toward college credit? Maybe begin to slowly get my general classes out of the way?”

“There is a lot of that but many of the courses are taught at a university and not at the ‘Farm’. You could go all the way through your Bachelor’s and much of a Masters and spend only about two years on campus. It could all fit in between your assignments.”

I begin thinking about the languages Tan has me learning, “Could I receive course credits for the languages I’m learning?”

“Probably, although limited in nature. Still, if you become good at them then you could possibly receive a couple of semesters credit for each language.”

“Even if I learn each stage of the language in less than a semester?”

“All you need to do is test through the course and if you do better than 88% you get the credit. The agency requires all of it’s personnel to maintain better than a 3.5 average. That’s out of 4.0 for the top.”

“It’s beginning to sound interesting. What about tuition? What does it cost me?”

“Maintain the average, especially in languages, and the agency pays your fare.”

This is sounding better and better.

“And if I take several courses for the semester with only one as a language?”

“Maintain your average especially in the language and the tuition is paid. So are any books or other materials you need.”

I LIKE IT.

“How do I sign up?”

“Uh... Kat, it isn’t quite that easy.”

I knew there had to be a catch.

“Then what’s the catch?”

Tanner begins to hem and haw. As I decide he is trying to weasel out of the hole he dug for himself he begins to explain.

“Kat, remember they gave you a medical exam and some tests?”

“Yes. So?”

“So... you... would... havetobeagirl,” he explains the last few words like a machine gun spitting out bullets.

“I would wha... Oh. So what else is new?”

“Uh... no. I mean you would need to be a girl.”

“Yeah. That’s what you just sai... Oh! You mean permanently?”

“Uhmm. Yeah.” He backs up a step as though he’s afraid I’m going to slap him again.

“Okay... So could I get into the program if I became a girl?”

“I think I could probably guarantee that. And, if not, then you could still receive some of the training we had talked about and continue as a model but taking pictures as well. We might even do some of the things you were thinking about for additional income as well as for the ‘spying’.” He used two fingers of each hand to form quotation marks as he said, ‘spying’. “Getting into some of the restricted areas to take photos or movies might be a bit of a trip but if it could be done then we could earn additional income from both endeavors. You definitely wouldn’t go hungry.”

“Could we still always work together as a team even if I do become a woman and go in for training?”

I hear him nearly whisper what I think was, “I hope so” but it could just as easily have been “I don’t know.” just before he says in a normal voice, “I think that could likely be arranged. Perhaps even as husband and wife.”

“I don’t think I could do that unless we really were... husband and wife I mean. And not like in the movies where they are married for the duration of the assignment and then go their separate ways. I mean for real, permanently, although you might take some getting used to.”

“Me?” he squeals jabbing his finger into his chest as his voice becomes a low octave bellow.

“Yes, you. I’ve been a perfect lady all during this tour but you have been a bit difficult.”

“Me? Difficult?”

“Yes, you.” I bat my eyelashes at him and he reacts with the expected bluster and posturing before figuring out that I’m baiting him.

Shaking his head at me, “You need to be careful who you try that on, my dear Kat. Someone might take you up on it.”

“Oh? Like who?”

“Me for starters.” He grabs me and pulls me closer as I squeal and the next thing I know he is holding me tight and we are kissing.

I struggle to get away for perhaps all of five seconds before succumbing and giving as good as I receive. The best part of making up is Tanner in my cup. I begin to break away from the kiss as I try to figure out where that thought came from and what it really might mean when I decide I like it and am right back at it. Hell, I may as well get some benefits from wearing his engagement ring.

I’m just beginning to really become comfortable with this as he begins to break it off. Isn’t that just like a man? I mean, he wants to do the whole deed right now, his way, but when the girl begins to respond and take the lead then he breaks off the attack. I need a cold shower.

“Tan. I’ve got to go and wash my hair. It needs to be clean tomorrow as we will be doing a lot of style changes. Further, all the spray Irina used on me today needs to be washed out.”

He snaps his fingers, “Damn. Just when I was beginning to enjoy our engagement.”

“Sorry. You don’t get to sample the goods until we are married.”

“I could have a preacher here in the morning.”

“I’m sure you could. But I won’t get married to you until I’m complete as a girl.”

“How exactly do you mean that?”

“Just like I said.”

Frustrated, he whines, “You know, you’re getting this female thing down pat. You leave me just as confused as any other woman would.”

I smile at him, “And we don’t even need to go through any special training to develop the skill.”

He looks at me with a little frown as I turn and walk away turning back at the door to give him a two finger wave before going into my room. He looked like he was trying to decide exactly what I said. ‘Good Luck’. I’m not even certain exactly what I meant when I said it. Except... I think I included myself with the other women.

I entered the room and locked it again finding Pam brushing her hair having finished her shower.

“I’ll brush yours if you’ll brush mine after my shower,” I offer.

“Deal.”

I put my blazer and skirt away, toss my shoes (carefully) then go over and begin administering to her hair. As I work at it I think about all the people who likely have no idea what it takes to be a model and to be beautiful all the time. They probably would say we are pampered as they look at all the people necessary to keep us looking beautiful for the cameras. Certainly, three to four hours a day is spent to keep our complexion, hair, and body beautiful just so we can be a clothes horse. We get up in the morning and immediately begin trying to be beautiful. At every break in the shooting we are again working at it, then when the day ends we still have an hour or two we need to put in so we may appear just perfect for the camera the following day.

I’m being paid twelve thousand for this five weeks with just under five thousand of that for St. Petersburg alone but when you figure it’s thirty eight days including travel time at nearly seventeen hours a day; that means I’m taking home about twelve dollars forty five cents an hour with no medical or other benefits. Of course I’m one of the lucky ones because Tanner has group medical for his models, but most don’t. Still the idea of perhaps becoming a highly paid fashion model really hasn’t come home to me as yet. Perhaps after a couple of years I may make it into the forty or fifty dollar an hour category. Then there are the intervals during which I’m not working and must still pay out money to keep my looks so I may work when it comes along. It’s a rough business. No wonder Pam was so happy Tanner took her back without squabbling about new arrangements.

It isn’t until well after we finish preparing for bed and are asleep that my conversation with Tanner comes home to roost. I awaken sitting bolt upright in bed with the thought that I as good as said I’ll become a girl. That begins me thinking and worrying. I don’t know if I slept much after that but I really wasn’t looking forward to the wake-up call at five after receiving only a part of my potential six hours sleep.

I need to come to terms with all this sometime soon. It would be wonderful to have a little more peace of mind so I might actually sleep during my allotted hours for that endeavor.

~O~
After the phone went off with our wake up call, I peeled myself off the ceiling as Pam made tracks for the bathroom. Beginning to get things out so I may dress quickly once I have my opportunity to visit that little room, I make my mad dash the moment she exited. We have this down to a routine and have both come to grips with doing everything necessary with a minimum of time and fuss. I need to dampen my hair just a little and brush it out again. I must have slept on my head during the night. We are both ready to go join the others for our short journey to breakfast before we once again have a long day shooting.

During the day we find ourselves back at the airport where we use one of waiting areas for a backdrop with all the aircraft vying for space to unload and load passengers. We are dressed in business suits, pant suits and casual clothing to reflect passengers waiting to board. Security has two people here just to keep us honest and they move us several times as aircraft are due to arrive at our location and we don’t want to inconvenience them nor allow them to do so to us.

The next two days are fun and the last day we actually have an opportunity to take a tour in the morning before preparing to return to the airport once again so we may return to the U.S. again. I filled my memory card and managed to download it all to my notebook before we packed out of the hotel.

During our return flight I suddenly remembered I was due to return several days ago so I ask Pam, “would you mind my sitting with Tan for a few minutes so I may talk with him about something?”

“Not at all, I’ll go back and ask him to come sit with you.”

A minute later Tan and I are deep in discussion.

“No Kat. No one met the plane. It may have been a false alarm or the arrival of Elaine early may have caused him to abandon the whole thing for the time being. I doubt we will know. I wouldn’t relax though.”

“I agree. Now on to other things. I still have not made up my mind about the training or the other important consideration which has been bothering me these past weeks. I think I need a little more time to make up my mind.”

“And just how much time do you think you need?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only been thinking about it for seventeen years on the other foot and now I’m supposed to make a decision with only eight weeks on this one?”

His face takes on understanding, “I could easily see how it might be a little soon to be deciding but I’m afraid I’ll need a commitment one way or the other much sooner than another seventeen years. Preferably within three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” I’m incredulous, “Why so quickly?”

“Because by that time I need to decide if I’m going to continue in this business or hand everyone over to some other agency. I explained before, if you’ll recall.”

“Yes. I do believe I remember you mentioning something along that line.” I reply sarcastically. “However, I was under the impression that you could take a little more time.”

“I’m afraid not. Tony needs my decision within the month so they may begin to make appropriate arrangements, and I would like your decision so I know if I should include you in the decisions.”

“Oh. So I need to decide soon then? What makes you think I can make that decision within three weeks when I haven’t been able to make it in the past many years?”

“I’m hoping the introduction of a new player into your life as well as the success you have had these past eight weeks will sway your decision.”

“New player? What are you talking about?”

He looks at me as though I have taken a knife and thrust it into his heart. I just begin to comprehend what he means when he finally points to himself, “Moi.”

Now I do have a lot more to think about. I start fiddling with his engagement ring on my finger taking it off and feeling undressed then putting it on again over and over with him looking at me like he’s afraid to breathe.

I finally take it off and reach over placing it into his hand, “Would you ask me, instead of just putting it on my finger?”

“How are you going to reply?”

“You’ll never know unless you ask.”

He looks like he’s afraid I’m going to bite his head off.

“Okay, may I put it on your finger?”

I look at him like he’s gone stark raving mad and break out in tears.

“What kind of a question is that to ask a girl? You don’t even know the right question to ask?”

At least he catches on quickly, “Katrina, will you marry me?”

My tears increase and I choke up so badly I can’t answer. All I can do is hold out my hand and nod yes.

He gently puts the ring back onto my finger and I feel complete again. My arms go around his neck as I turn enough to him that we may kiss. He whispers into my ear, “So, I take it you intend to become a woman so when we are married we may consummate our marriage?”

to be continued

I’m a princess and I demand that glass slipper.

Finally! I’ve made a decision. Perhaps that was the problem all along, I couldn’t decide while at lower elevations and simply needed to be at thirty thousand feet in order to do it. I’m going to go for it and become a woman. I may never really be complete but at least I’ll be able to live with and accept my body as a female. Then too, I’ll eventually be married to Tan and go into training to become a spy. At least I think I’ll be a spy.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Then again I may be totally incorrect since I don’t have any idea what being a spy entails. Oh Drat. I haven’t been studying my Russian these past two weeks. I wonder how many semesters of Russian this course is equivalent to? Or maybe two of this course equals one semester of Russian. Perhaps I could get Tan to purchase the next course so I may continue to study when I complete this one.

What did he say?

“WHAT? If you think I’m going to be married before I’m complete you’ve got another think coming, Mr. Hamersley. But it may be a while, since the little research I’ve done on the Internet seems to indicate I must live like this for at least a year after I begin seeing the doctors about it. They won’t approve the operation until then.”

“Not even if you know some people in high places?”

Looking at him with consternation showing on my face, “Oh probably especially not if those people in high places are like you. They might even add an extra year to my requirement.”

“You certainly do know how to make a guy feel needed and loved.”

“But you are needed and loved. I’m just saying the doctors might not feel the same way about it that I do.”

“I think we might talk about this with my sister and with Tony. I’m sure a little pressure could be brought to bear which might speed things up a bit.”

“That’s all well and good but I likely can’t pay for it for a while yet. I may need the year just to earn part of the money needed for the operations and I will need to go on hormone therapy which costs a pretty penny as well if the research I’ve managed to accomplish is correct. I’ve done a bit of reading about this and it isn’t so simple as you might think. Then too the expense is pretty high. I think it would take me at least my first year of well paying modeling to even earn a portion of it after all my other expenses. I pretty much had figured it would take two years to earn enough to make the switch one way or the other.

Now that I think I’ve made the decision which way I want to go, I’m going to go broke just trying to pay the doctors for all my psych and medical evaluations, repeated blood tests to monitor the hormone therapy and more. And all that is before my operations which are the most scary part of this whole thing. I think talking with your sister is a good idea. She may have a lot of legal input and may know doctors who would be a bit more sympathetic to my cause.”

“Okay Kat. When we get home I’ll give her a heads up that we need to talk with her. That okay with you?”

I lean over and kiss him on the lips for a moment which turns into five or ten seconds before a slight ‘speed bump’ in the atmosphere causes us to part and then crash into each other causing Tan to bite his lip drawing blood.

“Kat, you didn’t tell me you’re a vampire.”

“I didn’t do that, you did it to yourself.”

“Is that why I felt the pain before the turbulence?”

“All I did was a little nibble, I didn’t bite. Your own teeth did that when we crashed back together after we were knocked apart.”

“Uh huh.”

“Besides, I thought vampires went for the arteries in the neck.”

“I think it’s the veins they go after, Kat.”

“Tan, why would they go after the veins? That’s the used blood, the fresh oxygenated stuff is in the arteries.”

“I rest my case. Seems to me that a vampire would know about that better than I would.”

“Oh Tan, don’t be silly. I can’t be a vampire, you can see me in a mirror. And if you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any blood on my lips.”

“You could have licked it off.”

“I think I want Pam sitting here again.”

“What, you don’t like big old lovable me anymore?”

“Not when you’re being a petulant child. The Tanner I love is a grown intelligent man, although sometimes I think that is a contradiction of terms.”

“What contradiction of terms?”

“Intelligent and man.”

“Ouch. Okay, I’m going. I’m going. I’ll send Pam back.”

I reach out and grasp his arm, “Not before you give me that kiss which was so rudely interrupted.”

“Promise not to bite? Just kidding,” he says quickly as I give him an exasperated stare.

We kiss for a few seconds as I try to be careful of his lip then he goes over to his own seat and Pam returns to hers next to me.

A few hours later we are landing and the fun begins. Customs and Homeland Security. Once again a valiant attempt is made to separate me from my notebook computer and camera despite the ATA Carne and, once again, Tanner pulls one of them aside and shows his card or identification or whatever it is he is hiding in his wallet and they protest. Finally out comes a supervisor arriving at about the same time as Tan has Tony on the phone. The supervisor tells them to take the camera and computer and Tan tells him that in less than a half an hour he will be under arrest.

“You can’t arrest me, I’m Homeland Security.”

Tan replies, “So am I, and I think I outrank you. Not only that but I know Tony outranks you.”

The bureau-nut goes off to make some telephone calls and returns about twenty minutes later to tell those watching me with eagerness, “Back off. Let her have her things and go on.”

The disappointment in them is palatial.

“You two need to have your passports coded.”

“Now that would just about end our usefulness as agents wouldn’t it? We might as well wear signs around our necks... Look at us, we’re trying to abscond with all your secrets.”

“You could have a chip under the photos.”

I look at him, “If you could detect and read it then so could anyone else. Thanks but I don’t plan on residing permanently in some other country. If you like the idea so much why don’t you try it?”

The supervisor still has a chip on his shoulder, “There’s no need for that. All you needed to do was identify yourselves and this whole mess would not have happened.”

“Uh huh. Then you would just steal from others returning home?” I ask as I see Pam going through the same problems.

“We don’t steal from anyone.”

“Then why are they trying to impound her camera?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You made it our business. She’s one of our group.”

“Yeah, right.”

“And so is the woman in line next to her.”

“Are you going to claim everyone who got off the plane?”

“No. Only those who are members of our hit squad. I’m certain the ladies would be very happy to give you a personal demonstration. And if they won’t, I will.”

“You guys are crazy. Okay, take them both and get out of here.”

The agents are once again disappointed at failing to obtain an obviously nice but simple camera. They don’t even check Kaitlyn’s luggage and curtail the inspection of Pam’s very quickly, releasing us all to pass intact.

Kaitlyn goes on to the taxi stands to return home while the three of us take everything along with a porter to our connecting airlines. Pam heads on home and Tan tells me we have a meeting with Tony scheduled tomorrow morning so we are headed down there.

At the ‘Hotel’ I’m assigned the same room I had the first time I came here. I’m probably reading too much into it but I can’t help but wonder what that means. After all, Tanner is right across the hall from me.

We finish our unpacking since Tan said we might be here a couple of days and then meet in the hall to go to eat something before we retire for the night.

The cafeteria/ restaurant/ whatever is much the way it was when I was here before. There’s a couple of things available for consumption which weren’t here the last time and I’m looking longingly at some of the desserts. I could forego the milk sticking with water, and maybe only eat the fruit and lettuce but not the cottage cheese, then maybe I could have that dessert and it wouldn’t affect me badly. Oh, to hell with it. I take it all; milk, salad, main dish and dessert. All he can do is complain and I’ll just ignore him. Which he did and I did. See, we can compromise.

Returning to our rooms he waits until I’m inside then goes to his own room. There was a wee pause for light fireworks prior to going into the rooms but there were too many people wandering the halls for it to last long.

I made it to bed pretty quickly and slept well for a change. That damn phone still gets to me and I repeated my performance of knocking it to the floor in my attempt to answer it while successfully tangling myself in the bed covers. I finally make it to the phone but whoever called has hung up by the time I made it there.

The clock on the night stand says five thirty so I’ve got roughly an hour and a half to get ready before we go eat, assuming we have an eight o’clock with Tony. I’m ready a little early so when Tan calls me I’m more than ready to go for breakfast.

“You’re looking very nice this morning, Kat. Not trying to impress the boss are you?”

I shrugged my shoulders, “What could it hurt? He’s already seen my nasty side.”

“And unlikely to forget it either. Ready for breakfast?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“MiLady.” He holds out his arm and I wrap mine around his then we are off to see what they have available for our repast.

“They better have something good or I’ll have them hang the chef.”

“You are so hard on chefs. Please allow him to survive into the evening as he must prepare the King’s banquet later and it’s so difficult to find a good chef on short notice.”

We are both laughing as we enter the dining area which otherwise was silent as a tomb. We finished breakfast with the tomb still silent. I would even have been happy to hear bad elevator music in the background.

“Okay, Kat. I’ll meet you here in the hall in fifteen. Bring your computer and the camera. Tony wants to see your ‘if and view’ program.”

“Irfanview. It’s called Irfanview.”

“Whatever.”

I was ready to go in about ten minutes and so was Tanner. He must have called twice, the first time I was in the bathroom.

“You ready to go?”

“My gosh, Tanner. It’s only been eight minutes.”

“So? I’m ready. I just wondered if you were.”

“Yes. Let me grab my computer and purse.”

“Don’t forget the camera.”

“It’s in my purse.”

“Okay. Meet you in the hall.”

A few seconds later he was knocking on my door. Talk about antsy. I thumbed the inside sensor and he came into the room even as I was picking up my purse. He grabbed the computer case, shouldering it, and headed for the door again.

“Tanner, unlax or something. You’re acting like you’re headed for a funeral.”

“That good, huh?”

“Just stop right there. You have been acting strangely ever since we got here. What’s this all about? Why are you so upset? Does it have something to do with the camera?”

“I told you once before that you’re entirely too smart for my own good.”

“Tann...”

“Just relax, Kat. We’ll learn more at Tony’s office and it’s a secure location.”

“Me, relax? You’re the one that needs to relax. You’ve been on eggshells ever since we got here.”

“You ready? We need to get going.”

“Lead on, MacBeth.”

“That isn’t funny.”

“Tan! I don’t know what the story is here, but we haven’t done anything wrong that I know of; so instead of being part of the problem, try being part of the solution.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Mr. ‘Life of the Party’ leads me out to where a car is waiting and once more we take that short journey from the ‘hotel’ to another building where we are more or less ceremoniously dumped at the doorstep, having been released to enter the building and face whatever is going to happen, alone.

“Tan, since you are acting like Louis headed for the guillotine and I suppose I’m the Marie Antoinette to your act, don’t I have the right to know what is going on?”

He gave me his twisted up ‘I don’t want to talk about this and maybe it will all just go away’ face. Finally he sighed as I continued to stare at him.

“Okay. After we are inside, we can find a secure room and talk for a few minutes but we’ve got to see Tony promptly at eight so there won’t be much time for talk.”

Partially mollified I turn and we enter the building where he shows his ID and I get a temporary badge. In big bold colour stripes and letters it says:

VISITOR — ESCORTED ONLY — areas A-C and R; whatever the heck that’s supposed to mean. Oh, I understand it means I can’t even go to the powder room without someone attached to me, but the areas part of it means absolutely nothing as far as I’m concerned.

Tan leads me into the bowels of the building and finally, after checking several rooms, escorts me into a small conference room where I learn a little of what is going on or coming down or whatever you want to call it.

“Okay, Kat. Quick synopsis. You were right, that isn’t your camera. Yes you were going to receive one but not like that one. The camera you were supposed to receive was much like the one in the stores with a slightly upgraded optical pickup and some vastly improved software to run it. You would have had good pictures but not as good as the one’s you were taking.

The camera you’ve been using has the same pickup in it as some of our military spy satellites. At a guess the camera is probably worth somewhere around ninety or a hundred grand and the lens is worth another thirty or forty. Even your rechargeable batteries which power it are special.

We are going to return it when we reach Tony’s office.”

“Then what happened to my camera?”

“We think the partially destroyed camera which was found in the damaged lab was probably the one you were going to receive. There’s still a few thousand question being asked and at least two very intensive investigations still going on. We’ve got to get going. We’re due.”

“What about my computer?”

“That’s yours.”

“And the processing program?”

“Also yours. You would have needed it to deal with the images from your own camera anyway. Come on. We’re late.”

We hurried out and down the hall another dozen doors or so before Tan opens one and as I enter I notice we are in the lobby for Tony’s office. I hate this building, all the hallways look the same and I never know where I am.

Tan checks in with Tony’s gatekeeper, who reprimands us for being two minutes late then tells us it’s okay since Tony is running a little late as well so he’ll ‘never know the difference’.

I noticed a little light began to blink on a small strip of such lights to the right side of the gatekeeper’s desk and she says, “Okay, you can go in now.”

We do. I, with my head held high and Tan with his tail between his legs.

As we entered, we noted three other gentlemen already occupying some of the chairs around the room but the two just in front of Tony’s desk are empty and waiting.

“Tanner, Katrina. Come in and have a seat. Jim? Could you go out and call the lab? Let them know we will get the device down to them in a few minutes for them to take it through it’s paces. I appreciate it if they could hurry the results.”

One of the men gets up and goes out, closing the door behind him.

“So, how did your trip go, Tan?”

“About like we expected. I think you’ll be pleased with the results and I shot some of the more valuable data at you from the London office.”

“Yes. We got that. There was some question about a few of the photos. I presume they were take with the new camera?”

“Yes. The results of those were a bit of a surprise and that’s what caused us to bring up the questions we did. As it turned out, it was fortunate we asked them.”

“Is the device here?”

“Kat. Give the nice man your camera.”

I look at Tony like I think he’s a snake oil salesman but remove the camera from my purse and hand it across the desk to him.

Tony gets on his intercom, “Tell Jim to come in here and rush this down to the lab. I want the results last Xmas.”

Agent Jim comes through the door like he was a Jack-in-the-box on a coiled spring just outside. He grabs the camera and is back out the door almost faster than I could think about it. The other two, one on each side of the room, now get up and depart as well.

Tony looked at us, rubbed his face then pushed a couple of pieces of paper across the desk at Tanner.

“Ever seen either of those documents before?”

Tan examined them, “I can’t say as I have; but those look like my signatures so I guess I did at one time or another.”

“Take another, closer look. Be absolutely sure.”

Tan gets a funny look on his face and more carefully examines the two documents.

“Okaayyy... I’ll bite. Who’s this Agent VanDerholt from Section Eight? There’s someone else here who has the same last name as Kat? Next question... What’s a QR31j?”

“Good questions. No, there is no Agent VanDerholt in Section Eight. There’s only seven people who know who is in that Section and you aren’t one of them. That document is a forgery.”

“A what???” Tan take another even closer look, “Hell. For a forgery that certainly looks like my signature. Somebody’s pretty good.”

“Oh that’s your signature all right, Tanner. That isn’t the part of the document that’s the forgery.” He pushes another piece of paper at Tanner, “Compare this one with that one.”

Tan takes the new document and spends about a minute in silence.

“I remember this one. That was a while back, though. Maybe somewhere around a year and a half?”

“Twenty two months.”

“So someone dragged up one of my reqs from twenty two months ago, altered it into a request for this QR31j thing and submitted it?”

“Looks that way.”

“So, again I ask. What the hell is a QR31j? Of even greater note, why would anyone think I had authority to request that item, since I don’t even know what it is?”

“It’s the camera which Katrina has been happily using during the trip. We are testing it now to see if any of it’s hardware or software has been duplicated while it was out of the compound. Someone wanted it out of here very badly. Who would want to implicate you enough to involve several others in this scheme?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea. You said others were involved? Do you know who they are?”

“We have several people under surveillance.”

“Probably including me.”

“Including you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Don’t mention it. The next question on our agenda is: how did Katrina get her hands on it?”

I immediately interrupt, “It was UPS’d to me.”

Tony turns a little pale, “The camera was UPS’d as in the shipping company UPS?”

I nod my head and he turns a little more pale.

“I can prove it. Some of the first pictures I took with it were of the UPS shipping documents and the bill of sale.”

Tony is suddenly very interested, “Show me.”

I’m digging out my notebook so I may retrieve the photos when he suddenly seems to remember something.

“Tanner happened to mention you have a photo viewing program which is capable of reading the special files created by that camera. Is it loaded on your notebook and are there any of the special files on there that you could show me the results?”

As I continued to set up my notebook on his desk so I could enter my passwords and go to the photos I answered him, “Yes, and yes.”

Another minute later and I have the images of the shipping documents.

“There. These are the documents that came with my camera, as well as the opened package in which it arrived. The shipping/sales document even had the serial number of the camera on it.”

Tony spends a little time looking at the documents, “I can’t really make out very much.”

“Here, let me show you. You can magnify the image like this and then move it around so you can see any part of it. On the other hand, if you are interested in a particular portion of the image, we can crop to that portion and so long as we don’t save the image over the top of the original then we can always go back to the original if we want to examine a different portion. What part do you want to see?”

Tony points to an area of the screen as Tanner comes around the desk to watch over Tony’s other shoulder; “I want to see that area full screen. I’m interested in knowing the name of the shipper.”

I draw a rectangle on the screen then confirm it encompasses the portion in which Tony is interested. He confirmed it and I tagged the crop command. Now I enlarged the image to fill the screen. The detail is fantastic, I’ll bet I could continue enlarging until I could see every drop of ink used to print the bill of sale.

“Greybeard Imaging Equipment Resources, Inc. Humpf, that’s obviously going to be a fictitious name.”

Tanner begins musing, “Greybeard Imaging... I think I’ve heard of that company somewhere before. Not that recently but it rings a bit of a bell for me.”

I try to be helpful, “Greybeard is a commonly recalled word. It was a reference to a man or group of men who were scholars long ago and who did not spend the time to shave or opted not to do so, thus developing a beard which as the scholar became older and even more learned the beard turned grey from which derived the name.”

They both look at me like they are trying figure what merit my comment has to the problem at hand. They’re probably right in their thinking and it has no merit at all. Am I the comic relief yet?

Tony continues to ponder then asks me to show him some of the images I showed to Tanner when I was questioning my camera not being the correct camera. That also reminds me, “Since that camera wasn’t my camera, then where is my camera? I paid for a camera and memory and that was the camera I was sent. Since it wasn’t mine then where is mine?”

Tony looks at me in slight confusion, then glances at Tanner who gives him an explanation, “remember about two months ago I mentioned producing a slightly better than normal camera which could be “sold” to Kat so she could take pictures of slightly higher definition with what would seem like a more or less normal digital camera?”

Tony purses his lips, “Vaguely.”

Tan continues, “The model she selected was one she saw in WalMart and we offered to sell one to her for about twenty percent less than their price. What we finally wound up doing was downgrading one of our early models we had been playing with so it was more in keeping with high end consumer grade toys and then we were going to sell it to her along with a memory card.”

“Which you did.” I threw into the mix.

“Which we did. Except somehow our prototype whatever the hell it was called is what was shipped to her.”

“So she wants her original purchase? I’ve got some bad news for you, young lady. I think that might have been the camera which was destroyed in the lab explosion.”

“Oh. My camera?”

“We’ll get you another. You’ll have to be happy with it though because it won’t have the capabilities of the one you were using. I still get chills up my spine thinking about that camera wandering around Europe where it could so easily have been stolen. You were going to show me some photos?”

“I what? Oh, Yes. Look at this one, it’s my favorite, looks like a nice picture of some of my friends. But now we crop to Pam’s eye and enlarge a few times then crop to the reflection in her eye and enlarge that and bingo; we are looking at the room and people behind me. See where that man is bumping into the lady? And the other man is picking up his carryall so he may leave? Now watch, I’ll apply the automatic color correction and it will remove the average amount of any color which is present throughout the whole area in the scene. There. Now it’s almost as though I had turned around and taken the picture of the part of the room which was behind me. Oh... here let me reverse the image left to right since it was a reflection... there. Now we can even read the signs.”

Tony sits back as he looks at the screen.

“And what is the name of this program?”

“Irfanview. I have all of the plug-ins and several patches or upgrades. It’s a really nice program and it’s been around for, oh, ten or twenty years I guess. I don’t remember when I first discovered it but there have been a lot of plug-ins developed for it and quite a few upgrades made since then.

It’s shareware and free to use. If you think it’s worth purchasing then you can purchase it. I think there is even a commercial version or commercial license available, but I don’t really need that. It can also do some light editing and convert between several different file formats. I like ‘jpg’ but it can read the motion .gif files and even some movies.”

to be continued

Out of the Fire, but into the Double Boiler

We spent nearly five hours in Tony’s office going over possible scenarios and what if’ing about whomever could have done this if not Tanner. The questions remained, why target Tanner and eventually they came to include me as one of the potential targets.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

“And neither of you knows who could want some kind of retribution against either of you?”

We both answer in the negative. Three hours in, the word came back that the camera was unlikely to have been duplicated in any way. That either meant that it didn’t make it to whomever wanted it or that this whole thing was just some sort off effort to make trouble for Tanner. Somehow the first seems more likely and the latter not worth the kind of trouble it took to accomplish it all.

We are still beating our heads against the proverbial brick wall when suddenly I have a flash. NO. I mean of insight.

“Emerson! Remember my plane ticket?”

Tony grabs onto this with both hands, “Emerson? The camp’s favorite money man? What’s his role in this farce?”

Tan is looking at me like he hasn’t yet found the brass ring when his face lights up. “Graybeard!” he practically yells. “Son of a bitch!”

Now Tony and I are looking at Tanner waiting for an explanation.

He looks at us like it’s obvious, “Graybeard? Emerson?”

I quietly prompt him, “So I take it there is some sort of link between Graybeard and Emerson?”

“Yeah...”

Tony now prods a little, “So would you care to shed a little light so we mere mortals may bask in your glorious knowledge?”

Tanner comes back with, “Emerson and Graybeard” with a gesture that it’s obvious.

“Tanner, so help me if you don’t begin making some sort of sense I’m going to slap you silly.”

Tony adds, “and I might just help her.”

“I didn’t tell you about his antics in high school?”

I’m still confused but try to give him the benefit of a doubt although it’s beginning to become an awfully big doubt.

“So I take it there is some sort of link between Emerson, high school and Greybeard?”

“I thought I told you.”

“You told me about the rapes, so what’s Greybeard?”

“That was how he videotaped them. I didn’t tell you?”

“Huh?” this is the first I’ve heard about this, “He videotaped the rapes?”

“Yeah. You’ve got to remember, the man’s an egomaniac. He believes he can never be punished for anything he does and that he is more intelligent than anyone else on the planet. He videotaped the sex sessions with the girls without telling them. Some of his buddies saw the tapes but most of us have no idea where he kept them. Obviously he didn’t keep them at home or his parents might have discovered them.

At any rate he feels he’s immune to any kinds of prosecution for anything he wants to do. That’s part of the reason he believes the company will never get rid of him since he can make them so much money which he does in the drug trade by the way. Which reminds me, Tony have you had a chance to see the documents I sent which show he has branched into illegal pharmaceuticals in Eastern Europe and is preparing to import them into the States and Canada as well as portions of western Europe?”

“No. I haven’t seen those. Did you flag them to my attention?”

“Here’s a thumb drive with all of the documents I sent on it. If this doesn’t match that which they say they received from the London office then Emerson has someone working for him either in that office or in traffic at this one, or both.”

“I hate to bust this up but we were talking about Greybeard...” I reminded them.

“Oh, yeah. I don’t remember what he used to call the business he claimed owned the equipment which was used to videotape the rapes but it was Greybeard something. Back about the eleventh grade he either took or was given the nickname of Greybeard. He was on the debating team and his knowledge and abilities were meteoric. There was no one who could touch his abilities, hence he was called Greybeard or the most knowledgeable of the team. Don’t you see, that’s the link.”

Tony still doesn’t quite get it, “so why would the Greybeard we are looking for, and the Greybeard who was Emerson, have any relationship?”

I’ve now taken flight with the information and wade into the stream, “It’s obvious. Tanner and Emerson have some very bad old history since Emerson raped Tan’s girlfriend who later killed herself when she learned she was pregnant. Emerson and I have some bad history since he has wanted to get into my panties since he met me. This was an opportunity to possibly damage both of us in ways that could take us out of the opposition to his Greek plans as well as from the search for evidence against him as to being the”newcomer money man” who is funding large portions of the drug trades in Europe.”

“And you know about this, how?”

“Well, I know just from the conversation here in this office during the past five hours as well as a little prior knowledge of the man. Tan obviously has some evidence which was documented but somehow deleted prior to transmission or after receipt of same before delivery to the appropriate addresses. Again a little of this is conjecture on my part since I’m not privy to a lot of the information the two of you seem to know.”

“You seem to have an awfully tight grasp on those things you don’t have access to.”

“I warned you Tony, she’s smart.”

“Yeah. I remember. God, if the two of you begin working together all the time, the other side won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Tan points to Tony’s computer, “Put that thumb drive in your computer, scan it for viruses and then bring it up on the screen. I’ll guide you to the information about Emerson’s efforts in Europe. His Greek venture is even more worrysome. If they manage to follow through, Greece might just become a political power again as well as the new Rome with much of Europe falling at their knees. That would fit right in with Emerson’s need to be the new Hitler.”

Tony looks at Tanner blankly for a moment before digesting everything Tanner just finished saying.

“Emerson wants to be the power man of Europe?”

“Not just of Europe. He intends to be the “Emperor of the World”, or at least that was his declared intent while he was in high school. Hell, it was even his caption in our yearbook. Who knows, by now maybe he wants to include the moon and other planets as well. Most of us in school thought he was so far off the wall that we all avoided him like the plague. That only served to make him angry. He has a long memory and there have been a number of people who he perceived as enemies back in high school who now have had some very bad times befall them. There’s nothing which can link him to any of it, though I’m certain the agency isn’t really all that interested in learning if there were.”

“Tanner, I hope the information on this drive isn’t as far fetched as what you’re saying seems to be. Poor information would go a long way to hurting your chances and do a great deal to strengthen his.”

“Tony. I have been, as always, very careful with my information gathering. Look at the drive. Most of that information was collected by a number of your own assets, not by me. All I did was compile it. The agency is supposed to be so thorough in their investigation of the people they allow in here. I’d say they have been turning a pretty blind eye toward Emerson.”

“That tends to happen when someone can double the money they have been entrusted to nurture and in only six to eight months.”

“Even though a doubling comes so quickly and the manipulator won’t reveal his method which produces such doubling? I’d say the agency has gone to the dogs. The money has become more important than the people it’s supposed to be protecting.”

“That’s an unsubstantiated accusation.”

“Look at the thumb drive and say that again.”

Tony’s reluctance is palatable. If substantiated then the agency has no recourse but to remove Emerson from the financial loop, possibly from the agency itself. That would have an effect both on some of the ‘black’ programs as well as the nest egg the agency has been creating so there will still be plenty of funds should there be a sudden reduction in the flow of cash provided for agency tasks.

“So what, exactly, am I going to see on this?”

“Several things actually. The first is Emerson’s siphoning off of about a third of all the money he makes using agency funds. If he reported what he really made then the agency would be taking home at least another quarter more than they see from him now. The second is how he makes that money. More than sixty percent of it is in illegal drugs or pharmaceuticals. The other forty percent is in a slow buy up and resale of certain business assets. Before he resells them, he strips the important patents, developments or hardware and funnels them into one of his own companies. This isn’t, of course, illegal; but it makes for a wonderful cover for the drug money.

Probably the most interesting information is that which shows his link to a small but very efficient organization who’s sole purpose is to financially and possibly physically destroy anyone whom he has ever deemed to be a threat. He likes to hurt people in a long term way. Some of the women whom he has made pregnant were well known and well connected politically. This little organization has taken them slowly down a path which finally resulted in the destruction of their families, their reputations, and in some cases their own lives. He is a very methodical psychopath.”

“Okay. It’s up. Now show me where this stuff is and then the two of you get out of here and go home. OH. And before you go, let Jim download all the high definition images off that computer. I don’t want any more evidence of our prototype floating around out there than I absolutely must have in existence. All your lower definition images will be protected so you will still have your scrapbook, Miss VanDerholt. Go on you two, scat.”

“ Start here in the documents, Tony.” Tan turns to me, “You heard the nice man, Kat. Let’s go.”

~O~

~~~~ Home — Finally ~~~~

Tan tries to get me to study but I put my foot down and declare I am taking a day off... And so is he. I just want a day to relax and be with my boyfriend, which sounds so strange to me. Who would ever have thought? I begin to worry that maybe there is something wrong with me then start laughing a few minutes later when I decide that ‘yes, there is’ I’m in the right body but have the wrong sex. I remind him I need to talk with his sister to see what can be done.

After an hour and a half we are both antsy. He heads into his office to ‘get a little work done’ and I march myself out to the kitchen to see if there are the makings of anything edible still here and relatively unattached by whatever attacks food when no one is looking. I finally decide there isn’t anything safe and prepare to go to the store, wandering in at the last moment to let Tan know I’m going.

“Wait up, Kat. I’ll go with you.”

This is a first. Tan want’s to go shopping with me?

“I thought you didn’t like shopping and it was... ‘girl’s work’.”

“That’s when you go clothes shopping. Food is something in which I can take an interest.”

I have my doubts remembering the sort of things he had on hand and loosely called ‘food’, but I’m not going to turn down his company nor the opportunity to have him pay for everything I intend to purchase in order to prepare our meals. I only hope he doesn’t dislike my using him as the foil for my cooking learning curve. At least I can boil water without burning it and I’ve got a couple of great cookbooks packed away in my room.

Anyway, soon we are at the grocery store and I have him pushing a cart as we walk the aisles checking on everything. When we first arrived he made a beeline for the frozen foods and it took a bit of convincing for me to drag him away to actually shop for the healthier stuff. His face is amusing as he stares at me carefully selecting different vegetables and fruits and bagging them before placing them in our cart. I also pick up a pair, no make that two pair, of rubber gloves (one for cleaning the pistols). Ah, dishwashing liquid, now on to the meats counter. I’m a bit disappointed but with nothing in the house I suppose I can’t be too choosy, at least not yet. We round everything out with me placing one of nearly every spice/ condiment in the cart and then two prepackaged types of coffee and one of mixed beans which we ground on the spot.

Now that I am finished we check out and he nearly has a heart attack as the cashier rings it all up.

“Don’t worry Tan. It won’t be this expensive every time. All the spices added nearly two thirds of the expense to the total. It only hurts the first time.”

He grumbles but he pays as he eyes the large roast and the ham along with the flat of eggs going through the checkout. That’s something I noticed about Mom. She would appeal to Dad’s stomach in order to win an argument. It seems to work with Tanner as well. He’s only just beginning to realise I haven’t selected any premade, prepackaged foods. Everything here is do it yourself. Maybe I should make him some cookies to munch. Children seem to like that, at least I did.

~O~

We arrive ‘home’ and I managed to get him to help put things away until he started getting in the way then I sent him out of “my” kitchen, “Go find something to do in your office for a while. Call your sister and let her know were back. Maybe ask if I could see her concerning my gender issues. I know I’ll need to see doctors but I would like to know the legal issues and she seems to have some knowledge of them.”

He dutifully wanders off. I think he is actually relieved he doesn’t need to help anymore. It only takes me an hour and a half to get to know the kitchen and put everything away. I can’t believe he doesn’t have a spice rack, nor kitchen towels, nor paper towels. Another trip to the store is called for. I need a list. How did he get along without paper towels? And doesn’t he ever defrost his freezer?

Everything is finally put away and, more importantly, I know where it is all located. Now to prepare something. I think I’ll do the roast for supper and that will give us some meat for sandwiches tomorrow. Lettuce, catsup, a touch of seasoning, a healthy lunch that doesn’t cost twenty five dollars at a restaurant or seven dollars for burgers and fries. I roll my eyes even as I just think about it. I could even prepare some for Irina. And fresh fruit and a just a little milk. What? I know, I can’t help it. I like milk, it’s only one percent for crying out loud, it’s not like it’s fresh from the cow with all that butterfat.

Oh God... I’m going to brain Tanner. The selection of pots and pans is almost non-existent. Does he have a mixer... and bowls? Electric hand mixer - yes. Bowls - sort of. How does he cook? Then it dawns on me. He doesn’t. Everything he prepares is prepackaged, microwave TV dinners. I could scream... and do, which brings Tanner running.

“How could you not have pots, pans, mixing bowls, roasting pans, cookie sheets. What in the world did you do for food? I can’t cook, if I don’t have anything in which to prepare or do it.”

He stutters and stammers and beats a hasty retreat to his office again as I prepare to go out to purchase the bare necessities. I go to his office to invite him along but he opts out so I give him a kiss and am on my way. An hour and a half later I return and corral him to help bring in the cooking utensils. A large pot, and several smaller ones, pans, a skillet, everything I need. It actually was pretty easy. I pretended he had nothing and started from scratch. I even purchased hooks so I could hang some of the things. Speaking of hanging, I return to the grocery a third time and purchase a few more items including fresh garlic to hang and PAPER TOWELS, dish towels and rags and a few dozen other ‘little’ things like all the kitchen measuring cups, spoons, more bowls, kitchen knives and even a set of barbeque utensils, I might ever need. Another hour and this is beginning to look like a kitchen. I need a larger spice rack... Or a second one.

Sometime soon I need a large self supporting mixer but this electric hand mixer will do for now. I’ve finally had the roast in and cooking for about an hour and a half and the vegetables are just going on. I’ve been whiling away my time by making a batch of chocolate chip cookies for the children (Tanner and Irina) baking them in the second oven. It’s actually a nice kitchen, large with lots of counter space, two ovens, six burner range top and a big microwave. The refrigerator and freezer are separate items which gives me a lot of cold storage, I’ll need to fill them up a bit more. I’m not looking forward to getting up earlier tomorrow but I need time to fix breakfast. No more pop tarts for everyone and rush out the door. I think I better ration the cookies too. It’s tough being a Mom, especially with a twenty five year old teenager. I wonder if I could get away with spanking him.

I take the time to think about our difference in ages. I’m seventeen going on eighteen and Tan is close to twenty five. I’m not certain if he’s a couple of months over that or under it but somewhere close. That means there is a seven to eight year gap between us. I hope that won’t be a problem. I fall back to thinking about spanking him but decide I better not. He might like it. I’ll just place his cookies off limits.

When the roast is nearly finished I begin checking the drippings in the hopes I’ll be able to make some gravy. I remember Mom did that. There has been a lot of juice even though most of the fat had been cut away. I hope that means the meat will turn out well.
~O~

It takes us two days to get things back into motion even with the prescheduling Tanner did before we left on our “tour” of Europe. We also learn that Carlotta finally attributed the damage to the gown I was to wear to a competitor. There’s no real proof but she seems to have decided someone from that other camp was the culprit.

Tan and I need to cut short our day today since we have a meeting scheduled this afternoon with his sister so I can discuss my options. She mentioned she wants to bring up a “few little points” to which I need to give some thought. She’s being very melodramatic about it and won’t say anything over the phone.

“I want the time to do a little research before we talk. Be certain Tan is here with you.”

I’m wondering if Tanner is to be there to give me immoral support or so she may threaten him some more. At any rate, we are to be there at four which will pretty much wind up our day.

I need to bake more cookies tonight. The two children have already consumed those that I made the other day. Tan says I should make twice as many and we could offer them here on a tray for people to snack on. I politely remind him that the models can’t snack on the cookies and I don’t want him or Irina winding up looking like blimps... Well, any more than either of them do already. Which causes Tan to wander around in a huff until we go to see his sister.

“I’m going to ration the cookies to you two. I don’t want your health to suffer so cookies are not going to be a high priority on the menu.”

“More sandwiches?” They both ask, with smiles.

“And fruit. And you,” I point at Tanner, “will be eating more vegetables.” Which probably didn’t help relieve his attitude. You can lead a little boy to his vegetables but you can’t make him eat, and if you don’t have a dog, check under the table after the meal.

After our meeting with his sister, we return home via the grocery store again. This time he is much more relieved as I only purchase about a dozen items total rather than two very expensive trips like when we first stocked up. I’m not much in the mood for cooking tonight after some of the things Jennifer told us. The most difficult thing for me was learning I’m not completely out from under my father’s thumb until I’m twenty one. He could nix this surgery which would delay me another three years or so. I can make most of my own decisions but major things like surgeries could still require his approval, or disapproval in this case. I discovered how close I am to being a woman when upon learning of his continued involvement I burst into tears and I can’t even blame it on hormones since I’m not taking them yet and apparently won’t be or at least will have a very reduced regimens due to some more stuff she learned from the doctor and which made very little sense to me.

Supper that evening didn’t turn out so well. I guess you could say I was distracted. Tanner is having a difficult time of it as well. He wants to be close to comfort me but at the same time he tries to hide in his office since my emotions are flying around unchecked. One minute I’m crying on his shoulder and holding to him like never to let go and the next minute I’m biting his head off for some insensitive remark which, when I come right down to it, didn’t really amount to a ‘hill of beans’.

The next day I’m doing better. This is fortunate as it is our first day shooting since we returned and I need to have my wits about me. Most of the day goes well and we are beginning to ‘slip back into the groove’. Tomorrow I even have a modeling job rather than just assisting around the studio. Tanner is even making little comments to Irina that he thinks it’s great there is a woman around to help with the female models and to smooth things along as ‘only a woman can do’.

This thought causes me to give his comments and myself a great deal more consideration since up until just a few days ago I had been considering myself to be a male in skirts. Now when I think about it I discover I am thinking of myself as a female now. My reactions to sudden situations aren’t thought out but are automatic and are obviously feminine to everyone around me. I guess I was trying too hard or something. Once I just relaxed everything fell into place. Now all I need to worry about is that old 800 pound gorilla and once I’m past that... If I can get past that, then I’m on my way. I hope Tanner’s sister can come up with something that will allow me to go ahead with this without Dad killing me. I thought I was finally free and clear of him.

~O~

The following day Tan’s sister is still working on something to take care of the problem but she hasn’t gotten back to us yet and my head is beginning to straighten out so Tan is feeling a little safer around me.

I noticed that he locked up the knives and other weapons at the house while I was still ranting and raving yesterday. With a little luck maybe I can actually cook something edible tonight. Tomorrow should prove to be interesting since the session is going to be both in the studio and out at a “simple” location shoot with two other girls. It’s still a little difficult for me to comprehend that there are some businesses out there that prefer my “look” and ask for me by name. I mean it’s great and I’m flattered but I don’t understand what it is I seem to have which interests them in having me do the modeling in their shoots. Tan says we even have a commercial queued in the schedule for next week. It’s a “voice over,” whatever the hell that is, so I don’t need to talk; just look good, present the products well and smile a lot.

The next morning we all meet at the studio to do the indoor stuff before going out for the location part of the shoot. Not long after we finish and are en route to the location Tan gets a call from his sister asking for a morning when we could come into her office for a meeting. They schedule it for first thing in the morning Monday next week as I nearly faint from the close calls with other traffic which occur while Tanner’s mind is on the phone call and not on driving. I didn’t do too badly and only grabbed the wheel twice during the call. After we arrive at the shoot location I need about fifteen minutes to crawl back down from the ceiling of the RV and to dump my hysterics so I am able to begin to do justice to the job we have at hand.

Fortunately the rest of the week goes much better and we have made some money by the weekend. That makes us both feel a little better and before I know it Monday has rolled around.

to be continued

Fairy Tales can come True, It Could Happen to You

Tanner and I are up early. The cryptic message from his sister telling us to appear at her working office today about a quarter hour before our scheduled 8:00 meeting, has caused us each some trepidation as we both wonder what she has on her mind. She apparently didn’t enlighten Tanner either. I’m essentially emancipated since dear old Dad signed the papers allowing me to find my own way in life. I think he was hoping I would starve to death. Probably the last thing he expected was that I would need him to sign some more papers.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Tan and I made it through the ‘gauntlet’ without difficulty since I now have photo identification which matches my appearance. The two deputies passing us through without a problem even though my license says ‘male’ on it but has my female photo and name. We make it into her office at twelve minutes to eight.

“Welcome back Katrina, Tan. Katrina would you sit in that chair please?” She pointed to the one on the end before her desk. “Tan would you sit next to her closer toward the center of my desk? Your attorney should be here any minute. He will sit next to you.”

“Who’re the other chairs for, Jen?” Tanner asks as he assists me before sitting down himself.

“That doesn’t matter just yet. I would like to talk with the two of you for a few minutes before your attorney joins us. First of all, Katrina... While you were in Europe I received a great deal of information about you from Doctor Farmington and Doctor Worth as well. Some of what I learned from Doctor Farmington is what I want to discuss with you right now. It could be something you would prefer not to discuss, but I hope you will. Let me assure you, if you don’t want to get someone in trouble over what I want to know, nothing will be done to the individual or individuals. I simply want to confirm what the doctors suspect so we may use it as leverage to protect you until you turn twenty-one. Do you understand what I have said so far?”

I glance at Tanner, who is looking at his sister and then myself like we both just became two headed snakes. Fortunately he opts for silence as the better part of valour at this point, along with confusion.

“I think I understand. I’m not required to tell you anything but if I do you will not use it against anyone except to protect me in the future.”

“That’s right.”

“Okay. Go ahead and if I’m comfortable with talking about whatever it is, I will.”

“Thank you, Katrina.”

Just then her phone rings. After saying, “Yes?” She simply says, “Send her in.”

A few moments later a lady comes in carrying a medium sized machine. Tan’s sis tells the lady to sit at the small table over to the side where she places the machine and awaits further instruction.

Tan’s sister has Tan and I sworn in before instructing that lady to begin to take down everything said from this point on.

Jennifer then turns back to us, “Katrina, you may remember Doctor Farmington had a large number of scans and X-Rays done on you. You were about to leave for Europe when those X-Rays came back and he managed to send me his final results of the preliminary examination about a week and a half after you had gone.

Those scans and X-Rays show an abnormally large number of broken bones. Some have healed apparently satisfactorily but others look like they were never set properly and have not healed quite correctly. This means you must be a little more careful than most people since those might more easily be broken again and could possibly damage internal organs in the process if they should be broken. He said the nature of the injuries he noted indicated severe physical abuse over some time, possibly a very large number of years. Would you care to tell me how such a large number of injuries could have occurred? We know it was not from accidents but more likely from beatings.”

Tanner looks at me as he suddenly understands exactly why I have been having such terrible nightmares.

“Sis. I think it was her father.”

“Tan. Hush. I want her to tell me. Don’t put words in her mouth.”

“Sorry.” He takes my hand and gently holds it while covering it with his other hand.

I don’t want to get my Dad in trouble but I want him stopped from doing it to anyone anymore. I don’t want him to do it to any other family members.

“I... I... used to get beaten in school all the time.”

“Did those beatings break your bones?”

I begin to nod my head but somehow it shakes ‘no’ instead.

“Then how did they get broken? Katrina, I won’t send the person to jail for it, but I will use it as leverage for something I think will help you. Until I know from your own lips, my hands are tied and I can’t do anything.”

I sit there and begin to shake a little, tears beginning to flow from my eyes and down my face. Tanner keeps one hand on mine but puts his arm around me to provide comfort.

“He... They... Beat me.”

“Who beat you, sweetheart?”

“My... Dad. And my... brother.”

“Why did they beat you?”

“Because I looked like a girl. And because the kids at school beat me nearly every day. Dad said he would teach me how to be a man and then he would beat me until I could hardly move. Sometimes my brother would do it too, or he would tell the bullies at school which way I was going to get to class so they could head me off and beat me up.”

“The school did nothing to stop it? Your parents didn’t tell them?”

“N... No. If I was beaten at school then Dad would beat me up at home. Sometimes it was so bad that Mom had to take me to the hospital. Dad said, ‘I should have drowned the little faggot at birth.’ meaning me, more than once. I think he meant it, too.”

Tanner’s sister looks up from her notes she is writing and Tanner holds me tighter then releases a little as though he’s afraid he might squeeze so hard as to break my ribs which may not have healed properly.

His sister looks like she is reconsidering her offer to not jail Dad.

“Katrina. Thank you for being honest with me. I have more information and this is something I want you to spend a lot of time thinking about. By ‘a lot of time’, I mean months, perhaps a year.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Both of the doctors say that the odds of you effectively becoming a male are very low. You have the ‘equipment’ to appear male but your body will unlikely ever become more masculine even if you are given medical assistance. That means you would continue to have the proper external male genitals but could not father children. The doctors would need to go into you and remove the female portions which exist now so they will not cause you future problems and they could also remove your breasts. You would end up with a feminine figure but with male genitals.

However, if you decide to become female; your body already is properly shaped. You have breasts which could likely, with some medical assistance be capable of producing milk or at least appear and be normal for a female. The external male ‘equipment could be removed and your internal female ‘plumbing’...” she emphasized the quote using her fingers to simulate quotation marks, “completed. Again you could not have children of your own since you have no ovaries to produce eggs, but, and this is a very big but, if your uterus could become more developed then you might be able to have a fertilized egg placed into your uterus and bring it to term. That means you might be able to give birth to a child and feed it from your own breasts. There are no guarantees about that though since your uterus is far from completely developed at this time.

Your skeletal structure, especially your pelvic region, is feminine. You could almost be a complete woman rather than an effeminate man. Do you understand me?”

“I think so. That’s something I’ve wondered about a lot over the years but now I have a doctor’s conformation to think about.”

“Good. Now even if you were to decide to go one way or the other, you are not old enough to be allowed to make that medical decision. Yes...” she holds up her hand to halt the comment I was about to make, “I know you’re emancipated and essentially autonomous but there are still certain things which only your father...”

“Oh Great. Then we may as well forget it all because he would rather let me die than allow anything to be done to help me.”

“Katrina, let me finish speaking.”

“Sorry, your honor.”

“Katrina, I’m Jen... not ‘your honor’. I’m trying to help you by hopefully getting your father to sign some papers which would assign all decisions to the court which would allow you to make the choice and to have the necessary things done even if you are not yet twenty one. I intend to use the information about the beatings as a lever to make him think I’ll put him in jail for a long, long time if he doesn’t sign the papers.”

“But you won’t, will you?”

She sighs, “No. But only because I promised you I wouldn’t. If it was up to me I would have him arrested and tried for attempted homicide. As it is, that is what I am going to tell him I will do if he fails to cooperate. I may need to send him to jail for a few days to get him to see reason but I don’t want you to say anything. Just sit there. Understand me?”

Dad might go to jail? But only for a few days so he will give me permission to have the medical assistance I need. “I understand, I won’t say anything. And I’ll continue modeling so he won’t be forced to pay for my medical bills. He’ll probably begin screaming about that.”

“All right. It helps me to know that, but I may require him to pay into a fund to be used in the future should any of the injuries you have already received become a problem in the future. Getting him to admit to any of this will be difficult. Again, I caution you not to say a word regardless of what he or I say during the course of the conversation.”

“I understand. You’re going to play hardball with him.”

“Yes. Very hard.”

She picks up her phone and dials a three digit number, “have the doctors arrived? Good. And Tan’s attorney? Would you send them in please? Have the other individuals arrived and the two deputies? Good, have them wait.”

My doctors are shown into the office along with Tanner’s attorney. The doctors take seats on my side of the room and Tan’s attorney sits next to him with the three remaining chairs on the other side of him arranged in a group of two with one behind. That will put at least two people between me and my Dad. I’m not certain I’m up to this since he will likely try to kill me as soon as he figures out the female sitting here is me. Oh hell, it won’t matter if I’m dressed as a female or not. He’d still try if he thought he could get away with it. Maybe even if he didn’t think he could get away with it. I hope he didn’t bring a gun with him. I begin shivering even though everyone else acts like it’s kind of warm in here.

Judge Hamersley quickly goes over the information and tells the doctors the basics of what she is going to ask them, “all I want from either of you are short medical answers, no long winded explanations. The individual’s attorney may also be asking questions which I wish you to answer in a similar manner. Offer no information which is not directly requested.”

They agree and we are essentially ready for the first step in her plan. She now puts on her robes before seating herself behind the desk again then picks up the phone and dials again. “send in the brother and sister.”

They are shown in and my sister and brother are asked to sit in the two chairs situated before the desk. Their attorney accompanied them and he sits in the chair located behind them.

“What’s this all about your honor?” their attorney begins.

“I have a petition before the court filed by attorneys on behalf of Mackenzie Phillips, the brother of these two siblings. This petition alleges some rather disturbing facts which have been born out by medical examination. Do you represent these two or just the Father?”

“I represent the entire family.”

“Then here is a copy of that petition and I am going to have my clerk come in to swear in the brother and sister before taking statements from them.” Turning to my brother and sister, Jennifer continues; “You will be sworn in to testify under oath concerning the questions I will ask. This is just as binding as testifying in court and if you purger yourselves you could go to jail. Do you understand?”

They look at each other and at Tan’s sister. Confusion crosses my sister’s face as well as a bit of fear. My younger brother simply shows defiance, “I don’t have a brother.” Sis looks at him strangely for a moment.

“Your honor,” the attorney speaks up again, “perhaps you have the wrong family. I don’t know of a brother and although the last name is the same, which may be a coincidence, there has been no mention of a brother to me.”

“And how long have you been the attorney for the family?”

“About six months, your honor.”

“It is fortunate then that there is a witness from some time prior to those six months who can corroborate the petition and the ties to this particular family.”

The attorney looks a bit confused for a brief moment before pursing his lips and continuing, “I fail to see how this is a criminal matter rather than a civil one, your honor. Disciplining their children is something parents are supposed to do.”

“Does beating them to within an inch of their life and hospitalizing the child repeatedly due to broken bones and injuries to internal organs fall under civil court?”

“Er... No, your honor. That would go a bit beyond discipline. However, what proof have you such things happened?”

“Hospital records, medical statements, the statement of the injured party and a witness.”

The attorney is again nonplused, “If true then this would be a serious charge.”

“Very serious.”

“And who are these others who are in the room?”

“Those two are the doctors who examined the petitioning party. The one is the witness of whom I spoke and the other is the individual who has been acting as a protector to the petitioning individual.”

“So the accuser is not here to be questioned?”

“He will be made present if necessary.”

“I think he will be.”

“And I think I’m the one who makes the decision as to when that will be necessary. The aggrieved party is interested in protecting everyone’s rights including their own.”

“If I recommend that they not testify here and now what is the alternative?”

“Immediately after they are sworn, if they refuse to testify then charges of attempted homicide will be placed against the brother and the father.”

That hits the attorney rather hard. I suppose he thought this was some sort of mistake. My sister now begins to weep and my brother looks even more defiant just as I imagine my father will be. Judge Hamersley again sends for her clerk who then swears in my sister and brother, having previously sworn the doctors and Tan and myself.

“Your Honor, if this young man and woman testify here then what is to prevent you from indicting them? What is their incentive to testify?”

“All the petitioner is looking for is full emancipation with all familial decisions placed in the hands of the court which would then make all legal decisions including medical as well as others which are still beyond the purview of present emancipation. The petitioner wishes to be free and clear of all legal ties to this family. Upon the father signing this petition I will, reluctantly, not file charges against any of them.”

“May I take them out to talk with the father privately?”

“Only after the father and mother are also sworn. The deputies will find you a room where you may talk but any attempt to depart will result in immediate arrests on the charge of attempted homicide.”

“Understood, your honor.”

Jennifer calls out to have my father and mother brought in to be sworn while my brother and sister go back out to the other room. For the first time ever I see him in a suit. He looks uncomfortable in it. He looks uncomfortable to be here and I think by the time they come back he will look even more uncomfortable. After my mother and father are sworn their attorney takes them out. The deputies lead them and my brother and sister off to where the five of them may speak more freely.

We go out to wait in the outer room since Tanner’s sister has other work she needs to attend to during the temporary wait. Half an hour later a call comes in and is picked up by the clerk who speaks for a few seconds before transferring the call to Tan’s Sister. A minute later she comes out and tells us we may all go back to work she will arrange another meeting date.

“What happened Sis?”

“After speaking with his attorney, pretty much what Kat expected. The attorney made his recommendations. Your father tore up the copy of the petition. He tried to leave and in the process of being arrested he struck a deputy. He has been arrested for assaulting an officer and I will also place a temporary charge of attempted homicide to hold him for now. We will continue to hold that ‘attempted homicide of a minor in his care’ over his head in the hopes he will listen to reason as his attorney speaks with him further during the next few days. Kat’s brother was also arrested for attempting to aid the father and assaulting an officer. The sister and mother refused to participate. Each wanted to return here to talk but the attorney prevented them from doing so, since anything they might have said could prejudice the father’s case adversely. Further, everything hinges on the father so any testimony she might give would be as a hostile witness to his past actions and the daughters potential testimony since she was a minor at the time could be stricken. The mothers testimony could be dismissed since a wife cannot be made to testify against her husband. Give the father a few days for it all to sink in and we will meet again.”

“I told you.” I add to the mix. I had failed to recall that although Sis is older than myself, for most of that time she was a minor even though she is a adult now. It’s true, most of the beatings occurred while she was a minor.

“Yes you did, Katrina. But things must proceed in a specific order and within legal boundaries. I think after a few days he will come around.”

I nod my head, doubting it, but willing to hope. His sister and I hug before Tan leads me out, returning to his car then driving us back to the studio to try to get some work done if I can tear my mind away from the knowledge that my Dad was arrested because of me. I wonder what would have happened if he had realized the young woman in that room was me?

Young Woman... I’m just beginning to realise I am accepting myself as a young woman. I don’t know why but it feels... Okay... good... I don’t know... different. More like me perhaps... or maybe... I’ve tried so hard to deny this and to be me... er... I mean, to be Mac. Now... in such a short while I feel like I’m really Katrina. This is confusing. How could I feel like a young woman in only a couple of months when I spent seventeen years as a young male? Maybe my shape has a lot to do with it but... Should I really be doing this?

All of the way back to the studio I am quiet, at least outwardly. Inside, I’m in turmoil. I look at my hands, a woman’s hands. I look at my skirt and my legs and again see nothing but a female. I occasionally am able to smell my perfume, having become accustomed to the scent since applying it earlier this morning. As I move my head, my hair and earrings move against it and looking down I have a moment of sadness wishing my breasts were a little larger. Now that’s a laugh, I’ve spent at least six years wishing they were smaller or not there at all. I don’t know why I didn’t see I’m so much a female before. Then again with Dad constantly after me to be more masculine, perhaps I was in heavy denial. I was in heavy something... Most usually, pain.

Good grief, even sitting here in the car my legs are together and crossed at the ankles, my head is up allowing everyone to see the young woman riding with her man through the city streets and out toward the location where Tan’s studio is located. How quickly things change. Mac had how many friends? Four? Five? Maybe six? And he only needed five years to obtain them. Katrina, on the other hand, must have what? Fifteen? Twenty? And obtained in perhaps seven to nine weeks. And the quality of the friendships is far greater than the fair weather friends Mac had.

If you had told me last year that I would have more than a dozen good relationships with women and that we would be able to talk and share problems and truly like one another I would have said you were nuts. Yet as Katrina, it seems... like a right of passage.

So... If I’m really a girl, then my Dad caused all these problems due to his fixation upon that little piece of flesh tucked down between my legs. Can I blame him? Didn’t I have the same fixation? Or, perhaps, it was something pounded into me.

As Mac, I was nearly always in pain, mental as well as physical. As Katrina, I still have some physical and mental pain lingering from my days as Mac but nothing like those pains once were. In fact I might go so far as to venture that as Katrina, I’m happy. It’s still difficult to comprehend that in such a short time I have been able to embrace being Katrina and almost feel it is my due. OH GOD, MY DOOR IS... Oh!.. We’re here.

“Tan, you frightened me half to death. I was thinking and didn’t realise we had arrived.”

I thank him for opening my door for me and helping me out of the car. He locks it as I check my skirt before taking his arm so we can walk into the building.

to be continued

Home is where the heart is...

The next couple of days go well. We’ve been pretty busy once again and I’ve had several photo sessions of my own as well as more language lessons. I’ve made arrangements with Tanner to invest nearly half of what I earn after taxes to begin to save toward my operations. For some reason, the idea of becoming fully myself... I mean, fully female is really beginning to take hold. Isn’t that funny? I’ve spent years trying to be male and now in just a couple of months I’ve embraced being a female and can’t wait to be more complete. Maybe Dad was right and there is something wrong with me... I mean other than being a woman who has been trying to be a boy.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

That thought brings me to the sudden realisation that it has been three days since my Dad was jailed. The first day following our meeting, he was brought before a different judge for arraignment. That judge refused bail since Dad was a likely flight risk. Flight hell, he would have been pushing the plane all the way to a non-extradition country and then bitching because no one there spoke English. I’m worried about Mom and Sis. Without Dad around I don’t see them as having much money. My brother can look after himself, he was just as much a thorn in my side as was Dad but he’s all for himself and no one else. Mom and Sis wouldn’t receive a penny from him.

“Tan. Shouldn’t we have heard something from your sister by now concerning my Father?”

“She said it would be a few days, Kat. It’s only been... Huh... It has been three days, hasn’t it?”

“Yes. Maybe she has been busy and lost track of the time as well. I don’t know what made me think of it. Could you call her later this morning?”

“I’ll give her a call now.”

“No. We still have too much to do to get ready for this morning’s shoot. Are you going to use the computer controlled cameras on this one? It might be complex enough to warrant using them.”

“I was thinking about it. You’re getting to know the business pretty well.”

“I have a good teacher. With an audience there, you can’t place the cameras close. Will the strobes still carry from back behind the audience?”

“Yeah. They can be focused, so they will still do a good job of filling the area with light during each shot. Once everything is in place, I’ll need you to stand at the various locations so I can narrow the beam to cover you. By the way, don’t let me forget to bring the big batteries. Due to the distance, even though focused, I’ll still need to increase the output of each flash by several hundred watt-seconds. The larger batteries will be necessary if there is no power immediately available.”

“Where are they?”

“ Plugged into their chargers in the storeroom. Don’t even try to carry them, Kat. They must weigh about eighty to a hundred pounds apiece.”

“A hundred!”

“Yeah. Nearly doubling the light output of the strobes requires a lot more energy. Besides, the big batteries are lead acid, not Lithium. That makes a big difference in the weight. I use a cart to move them around.”

“What would the lighter Lithium batteries cost in the same capacity?”

“Too much.”

“How much is too much?”

“Hell, I don’t know... $2500 to $3000 a battery maybe.”

I look at him in amazement, “$3000??? How many would you need?”

“Worst case, six. That’s how many I’ll be using today.”

“And how much do the lead-acid batteries cost?”

“About $500 apiece. They’re considerably different than the smaller ones we usually use. I can’t even charge them in the RV unless I connect a power cord to some outside source of electricity and then it takes forever to charge them.”

I think about that as we continue preparing, “Tan? Could you charge the Lithium batteries in the RV?”

“Which Lithium... Oh... No. It’s the capacity or amount of energy stored in the battery. Six of the lithium take so much more than the AC generator can provide that it would take twelve to fourteen hours to recharge them rather than an hour or, at most, two like the smaller ones. I need them up a lot faster than that and the engine would also need to be running as long as the batteries were being charged. If I’m only using two then I can bring them back up in about three hours if they are connected to power from the building. It takes a separate cord and power breaker for each battery though.”

“What about carrying a small gasoline generator on the RV for those times when you need the big batteries?”

“There is a small one. I usually carry all six batteries fully charged from here and then use only two or three so I have a fresh set for the second half of the shoot. It’s worked out okay like that for me for a couple of years.”

“How long does it take to recharge them back here?’

“Uhmm... I don’t know for certain. Maybe twelve or fourteen hours. I can only do two at a time. If I checked them more often then they might be able to be completed faster. I usually let them charge all night before checking them. Why?”

“Just curious. It’s too bad they’re so heavy and take so long to charge. There were a couple of times when I thought the computer controlled cameras would have been nice while we were in Europe and Russia.”

“Oh yeah. It would have been nice to have them but the cost of the weight shipping them and the recharging problems over there aren’t worth the hassle.”

“Schatzi, Tanner; I’m on my way. See you at the shoot.” Irina yells as he is going out the door.

“Okay. We’ve got it covered here. See you in about thirty.” Tan screams back as the door is closing.

We finish the packing of the RV and Tanner runs the batteries over to it two at a time on their cart. It has a battery powered lift built into it so we don’t need to lift the batteries to the bed of the RV but we must still move them from the cart to the RV leaving my hands smelling of battery and black with the rubbery material which rubbed off them. I go wash and put some lotion on them before we depart. Fortunately I had enough presence of mind to bring some prepackaged cleaning tissues to clean up while on location. As an afterthought I rush back and bring my lotion and a couple of dry towels as well. All thoughts of my Dad momentarily forgotten, it isn’t until much later that afternoon that I come to enough to realise that we haven’t called Tan’s Sister.

I write myself a note about it and put it on the seat of the RV so I will remember to ask him to call her. Somehow I don’t think I’m worried about Dad sitting in jail but I am worried about Mom and how she may or may not have enough money to live on while Dad’s in jail. I make a note about that too, and resolve to call her to check. Perhaps I’ll send her a few hundred dollars to help until Dad goes home.

Again the question of my Dad gets me to thinking, which isn’t always a good thing. I recall that time my sister helped me to look feminine and I felt so pretty and happy and then she betrayed me and I got one of the first “whippings of my life” from Dad. It was nearly a year before my curiosity again got the better of me.

One day when everyone was out and I was alone at home, and I knew I would have several hours of being alone, I snuck into Sis’s room after pulling a bra, panties and slip from the hamper. They were black and I felt sexy with them on. I pulled on a light blue blouse and then put on her dark blue jumper over it all, using a heavy string to pull the back zipper up. Later I used it to pull the zipper down again, which almost didn’t work and had me in a panic for nearly ten minutes.

Looking in her full length mirror stunned me. My shape and appearance were fully female, and I relished the hour or so that I had to explore this side of me. If I could have taken my head off and replaced it with a girl’s head the apparition in the mirror before me would have been that of a young girl. No, that’s not fair... The apparition was that of a young girl and the head was a good part of it. The head just was missing long hair. That was when I began to grow my hair longer. I think it was more of an experiment to see if I could look feminine without wearing girl’s things but by the time the experiment had reached the point where I could make a conclusion, I had forgotten it was an experiment and accepted long hair as a part of me.

As I stood there looking into the mirror I wondered what makeup would do for my appearance but I couldn’t trust myself with the chance of using makeup although I gave it several minutes of thought. At the end of the time I knew I was safe before anyone came home I hurriedly removed everything, suddenly becoming ashamed of my feelings that perhaps I should have been a girl. I still remember how everything felt against my body and how happy I was until my sudden spate of confusing remorse. I tried to be a boy. For years I tried, but my body always looked like I was meant to be a girl.

Broken, bleeding, hurting, unhappy, wishing she was dead, but a girl.

I seemed to go in cycles. I would need to see myself as a female and then when I just began to see that I might actually be able to look and be a girl, I would dredge up my prejudices which had literally been pounded into me and expunge myself of the feelings and careful accumulation of feminine artifacts to try to be a more masculine male. Neither worked well and my beatings at school and at home only served to make me hate myself and others.

My journey into the past of my memories was cut short as we arrived at the shoot location. Irina’s car could be seen out in the lot along with about fifty others so he has obviously already unloaded his cases which belie his trade craft. Tan parks close then goes to obtain some assistance in bringing his things in from the RV.

I follow him into the hotel and find things are quite hectic with lights, people, models and cameras of many different descriptions present. I recognise a few ‘show-biz’ types and my gaze crosses them in puzzlement before settling on two large motion picture cameras. I suppose that explains the extra people and lighting. I’m wondering how we are going to accomplish our own shoot when Irina finds my arm and drags me off to work on my makeup.

“Oh, Schatzi; this is going to be so much fun. It won’t hurt Tanner’s standing either.”

I’m standing there with egg on my face until Irina has me sit down so he may begin another of his magical transformations. Ten or twelve minutes later he is nearly finished, complaining the whole while about how the lights used by the movie cameras are a different temperature than those Tanner uses in his still photography. As a result Irina has ‘split the difference’ and is not happy with the results since the still cameras will make me look less ‘wholesome’ as he has favored the movie camera’s needs.

“Don’t worry about it, Schatzi. You won’t be on camera all that long.”

I trying to understand what he’s talking about as some man walks up saying, “Is she the one we’re using for the walk-through?”

“Her makeup isn’t quite finished. We will need to touch it up in that lighting.”

“Okay. Come with me.” he directs to me as he turns and begins to walk away.

“Irina? What’s going on?”

“Didn’t Tanner tell you? They’re shooting a movie which has a the modeling trade as a background. They need a few models to do walk-on and off in a couple of scenes as well as the normal modeling for still cameras which would usually occur. The movie people, of course, will be in the foreground but there will be a number of models and photographers in the background taking photographs to provide support to the shows premise. After seeing the portfolios of several of Tan’s girls last week they decided which one’s would do a short walk through in one of the scenes. I guess they picked you as one of the girls. You don’t have anything to say. Just walk in and out of the frame there in the background.”

The man has returned, “Are you two finished talking? We need you,” he pokes his finger first at me then at a small group of people, “over there, now!”

“You’re rather rude.”

“Oh great, another Prima Donna. Save me from people who think they’re God. Look. We have a movie to shoot, a budget to hold to and only three more hours to make this work. If, your majesty, you don’t mind; it would be quite helpful if you could get your little fanny in gear and get over to that huddle to learn what it is you’re supposed to be doing. OK?”

“Would it hurt to be polite? That huddle?” I point at a group of about a dozen people.

“That’s the one, and I don’t have time to be polite. I’ve got to keep this scene in budget.”

I walk my model’s walk over to the ‘huddle’ while wondering how movies ever get made with people like him around.

~O~

Our part in the shoot finally is finished. I have a strange feeling I’ve missed doing something but can’t quite place what it might be. Thinking about today’s strange activities I suspect they would have gone much smoother if that funny little man hadn’t been trying to push everyone around. Then too, I suppose it won’t be all that long before I’ll be back at modeling clothing and having my hair and makeup cared for by people who are preparing me to be a walking clothes horse again. Funny how I’ve become accustomed to doing that.

With the RV all packed up again, I made my way to the front passenger seat, sitting down as I scooped up my two notes and passed my hands under my skirt, smoothing it under me. After Tan is in the RV and before we get under way I remind him of my Father and his sister. He calls her office only to learn she is in a meeting at the moment and will need to call him back. He asks for thirty minutes and we head on back to the studio.

Tan and I arrive back at the studio just as his sister calls back. While Tan is talking with her I pull the long heavy power cable out and drag it across the floor to the power connection at the wall near the RV getting this black soot like stuff all over my hands as I do so. What a mess. I’m trying to keep it off my nice suit. I should have changed into almost anything else before doing this. Too late now. I connect the cable to the RV like I’ve seen Tan do it and then remove the cover plate from the wall connection and plug in the cable. Going back to the RV I try to decide what it is that Tan usually does next noticing several breakers and small lights on the panel.

The funny triangle shape has a light in each of the corners of the triangle but they are off. After I throw the breaker on the wall and check again they are on. Reading the breaker information shown inside the panel door, I turn on the battery and lights breakers and am rewarded with a hum from behind the panel in the RV’s storage compartment. After I return to the passenger side of the RV and climb in, clicking the light switch gives me the further reward of brightly illuminating the interior of the coach. I must have done something right.

Checking the power strips, which allow the batteries to be charged, I see lights everywhere so the batteries must be charging. Tan returns by this time and helps finish it all then we (mostly he) puts the large batteries back into their room and connects the first two to their chargers. Tomorrow morning we will move the first two to their trickle chargers and place two others on heavy charge, repeating this until they are all recharged and on trickle chargers.

Tan checks the main breakers and clicks on two more, “those power the chargers for the batteries which run the RV. The ones you turned on only provide power to the lights and power strips. You did a good job Kat.” He gives me a hug, “Do you think you could handle eating out tonight?”

“That would be nice Tan. I’m pretty tired and really don’t feel like cooking again tonight. I would like to freshen up first though.” Holding up my hands for him to see the black soot stuff.

“Well then, how about going out with me to dinner before we go home and crash for the night? I have this serious need to sit in a quiet, intimate, poorly lit place with my fiancee for an hour or two.”

Do I dare? I’m still an IT, aren’t I?

“Kat. Just say ‘yes’ and reap one of the benefits of being a girl. Let your fiancee take you out to dinner.”

I gather every bit of courage I can muster, give him a crooked little smile and say, “Yes.”

I still had him delay by nearly twenty minutes while I went into the restroom where I washed my hands, twice, cleansed my face then finally put on my evening makeup. My skirt suit looks pretty good and most people wouldn’t suspect I had just spent most of the day in it. No serious wrinkles, spots, or stains. One little problem, I don’t have any perfume here. I need to purchase a small atomizer and leave it here somewhere so the next time I may feel more complete. Earrings are a bit of a problem and I finally compromise with a pair from our stock after carefully cleaning their posts with alcohol. Not perfect but okay for spur of the moment. Then I’m prancing out to Tanner again as I make a note to myself, ‘Self. Bring jewelry in purse every day. Two or three styles from which to choose, including ear-rings and necklace.’

I go back out, walk up to Tanner and smile, “I’m ready.”

He gives me a good once over, “Kat, don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not a woman. Every move you just made from the time I asked you to go out to supper with me up until now was straight woman with a capital W. You, young lady, are terrific. And more importantly, you’re my terrific.”

I gave him another smile and a poor attempt at a curtsey. He offered me his arm which I accepted before he led me over to his beemer, opened the door and assisted me into the car. As soon as I am settled he closed the door and came around to the driver’s side while I was finding my seat belt. Soon we were driving out of the studio’s garage, stopped for a moment so he could set the alarm before we were once again on our way.

Supper was just perfect and for once I enjoyed every second. We sat close together in a booth and much of the evening his arm was around me making me feel both protected and loved. It is a nice change to my previous life about which I gave not a thought during our drive to, from, nor during our meal; which, by the way, was delicious. I was simply a young woman who was loved, cared about and who has a wonderful boyfriend. In fact it wasn’t until sometime during the night when I woke up from light dreams that I realised from the time we left the studio until just now when I awakened, Mac did not exist and I was all Katrina. That was just as delectable as our delicious meal earlier.

I waited for the guilt to fall upon me or for Dad’s ranting and beatings to make themselves known in my dreams after dropping back into sleep but he never showed during that night. All I seemed to be dreaming about was being held and kissed by my fiancee. It felt good. More than that, it felt right. My other dreams were still around but very subdued and not at all difficult. I dreamt of walking down a long, long aisle while wearing a white gown and veil. I don’t know who it was beside me and the person toward whom we were walking looked like Tanner. We reached him and I could feel myself quivering not in fear but in excitement. Then the dratted alarm clock went off. I just know all those contraptions have some sort of extra sensory perception so they can pick the exact time when a dream is getting really good. I hesitate to consider the possibility that the alarm clock might be controlling my dreams (or my nightmares). Maybe I should find a new one which doesn’t know about my past. I wonder if they can talk to each other?

Shortly after the alarm, Tan is banging on my door as I do my best to burrow under the pillows and covers in the hopes he will give up and let me sleep as I try to return to that dream.

The next thing I know my covers are being dragged off of me, “Come on sleepyhead. We’ve got to meet my sister at eight and I need some things from the studio before we go.”

I grumble but get up and head for the shower. I hear him yell after me, “And dress smartly. We have a meeting to attend following the court thing.”

What meeting? I don’t remember any meeting. I reluctantly hurry my shower and then dress “smartly” in another skirt suit and medium heels, remembering to carry extra jewelry and perfume in my purse along with my trusty makeup. By six thirty we are on our way to the studio and depart there by seven thirty for our eight o’clock with his sister.

The first thing I notice upon arriving at her office is the chairs. They are all spread in the same configuration they were in the day my father made his first and second serious mistakes. Today, however, there are two extra chairs behind the one’s Tan and I sat in last time.

Jennifer has Tan and myself take those new seats, the doctors arrive and take their customary seats and a few minutes later Mom and Sis are occupying the chairs which Tan and I had been in last time. Our attorney again takes his usual place so he is in between Mom, and Dad’s attorney, who now sits next to him. Finally Dad and my Brother are escorted in to sit in the remaining two seats. With two deputies standing behind them the office is more than just a bit cramped.

Jennifer starts it all off and in short order Dad is signing the papers which gives me full autonomy from any influence he may wish to exert now or in the future and Mom quickly signs them as well. Jen now explains that this essentially places decisions which are not yet considered to be those which a seventeen year old is allowed to make over into the hands of the court and specifically her as an officer of that court. I’m still not certain but I think this is a good thing.

The son is temporarily remanded to the custody of his mother pending other action, and the Father is removed from the room to be taken to where he may be processed out of the system where he was being temporarily held. The son is now waiting in the outer office, Dad’s attorney has departed, and Sis and Mom are still in here. Tan’s sister motions for us to move to the seats vacated by the Son, Father and attorney and Tan opts to place himself to my right thus placing himself between me and his attorney, with me furthest away from the rest of my family.

“Now we may consider the further issues which have been brought to my attention before the paperwork is filed in civil court concerning those actions to be further considered.”

Tan and I look at each other then across at my Mom and Sis, who have just done the same thing except to each other and then toward us. The attorney and Tan’s Sister seem to be the only ones who know what’s going on at this point.

“Nora and Tashia. I see from the paperwork here that you intend to divorce your husband of 24 years for reasons stated in the pending filing. You indicate he has been: 1) unfaithful, 2) abusive to both you and Tashia as well as Mackenzie, 3) that you have no income nor place of your own to which you could go should this paperwork be filed and such action proceed. Is that correct?”

In a small frightened voice my Mom answers, “Yes. He was terrible to that young boy and I was too afraid of him to do anything about it. You said you would tell me if Mac is okay.”

“He is in a protected home.”

“Protected? Does that mean I don’t get to see him anymore?”

“That will be up to him once he is informed of this action. You also are asking for custody of your daughter Tashia and son, Sheldon?”

“Yes, except Tashia is of age although Sheldon is not. I don’t know if I can really have custody as such but I’m afraid of what Henry will do if they stay with him.”

“You are quite correct that your daughter may make her own decisions and Sheldon has already made such choice as he wants to remain with his father. And you, Tashia? With whom do you really wish to stay?”

“My mother. I would like to be able to tell Mac that I love him and if he wants to stay with Mom and me I won’t make trouble for him, although I did previously and I’m ashamed I did that.”

“Tan, would you mind having a couple of guests at your place for a month or two if that’s all right with your fiancee, Miss Van Derholt? It likely would only be until these two can get on their feet and the purpose is to keep their whereabouts secret from the father and older brother who will undoubtedly desire them harm once the father is actually served with the divorce papers. I was hoping you might allow this since your attorney is representing them in this matter and therefore could effectively discuss events for both cases at the appropriate location or at your home.”

“Uh... that could be a bit of a problem Sis. If you know what I mean. Kat and I also have some out of town commitments during the next few months.” I reach over and grip his hand, lightly squeezing a couple of times. Tan looks at me and I gently nod, yes.

“That is, we would need to have plenty of food in the house so while we are gone they wouldn’t need to go out. If Kat doesn’t mind having them there.”

“No, not at all. I think it might work out since we are usually pretty busy all day. In fact, the young lady looks like she might be able to help out at the studio if she doesn’t have another job she is doing.”

“Studio? Movies?”

“Still photography. I was doing a lot of the assisting there but lately have been involved so much with modeling myself that Tan could actually use a new assistant.”

“That sound’s interesting. What would I do?”

“We could talk about that a little later. We will be going to the studio and I could show you. I’m Kat by the way, Katrina Van Derholt and you are?..”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Tashia Elaine Phillips and this is my mother, Nora Anne. Pleased to meet you.”

“Tashia... Nora.”

“How do you do, Katrina.”

Tan’s Sister interrupts us, “All right, now that is settled I see no reason this paperwork cannot be submitted to process. I will have two officers accompany you ladies to your home to pick up your things and then they will escort you to Tan’s home. I must caution you both not to tell anyone where you are staying as your husband appears to be the vindictive sort who acts first and thinks second, if at all. I’ll leave you both in Tan’s moderately capable hands and, if not his, then Katrina’s. Mr. Jeffreys, you may now file your papers with the civil court. Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.”

“Your Honor.”

So... Now I have my Mother and Sister moving in with a daughter they don’t recognise nor understand is related to them and I am faced with the question of whether or not to ever tell them. At least I may see they are safe and possibly get a feel for their true feelings concerning Mac. Will I go back to being Mac? That’s a hard one but... I don’t think so. Besides, I want to go to those schools and I’ve got to be female for those. I know, I know... excuses. Don’t give me a hard time. I’m Katrina. I like being Katrina. I like having friends. I like being appreciated and cared about and Mac never had any of that and was unlikely to ever come close to having any of it. It comes so easily to Katrina that I really can’t perceive of myself having been anyone else. Funny; after over seventeen years as Mac I basically had nothing. Now with less than ten weeks as Katrina the whole world is open to me. Am I willing to give all that up now that I’ve tasted it? Not on your life, bunkey.

to be continued

To question such good fortune, who am I?

Mom and Sis are settling into the house less than five hours later having gotten out of their house before Dad and my brother returned. Now some of my old phobias are beginning to threaten me. It’s a little difficult to remember they haven’t a clue, at least I don’t believe so.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

My fiancee would likely not let anything happen but we are faced with a few new problems with them in the house. Just to mention a couple: We cannot easily go ‘downstairs’ for our conferences and shooting practice anymore. Having the house sweep for ‘bugs’ is now far more difficult since there is someone here nearly all of the time. On the upside, since someone is here there is less opportunity for someone to be placing said ‘bugs’ in the first place, which never had happened before anyway.

For me one of the difficult problems was Mom or Sis cooking in MY kitchen. I was a bit less than gracious the first time it happened. After apologizing to them, and they to me, we came to a mutually acceptable standoff; we all would chase Tan out of the kitchen whenever he came into it. It became woman’s only domain and therefore he did not qualify.

As the days proceeded into weeks and then became a couple of months we were all getting on quite well considering everything. Tan and I had several opportunities to go ‘downstairs’ without upsetting Mom or Sis and we made one day a week a dining out night which allowed the team to come in to sweep the place top to bottom while we were out. They seemed to prefer having a schedule which they could reasonably rely upon.

Next week, though, would begin the proof of the pudding. Tan and I would be gone for a few weeks. We started out by stocking the house with everything the four of us could possibly think might be needed while Tan and I were gone, and Mom and Sis were comfortable with being ‘home’ alone. They each had a ‘panic button’ and the house now has a ‘drive by, walk up & enter’ security service minding it as well. They’re able to respond in less than five minutes to a panic button. I know, a lot can happen in five minutes but it isn’t practical to have someone else staying in the house.

Also during this period of time Sis began to ‘open up’ and I learned that she and Mom were also on the receiving end of it from Dad and our darling brother. It apparently intensified once I left home since Dad no longer had his ‘whipping boy’ around to beat on. I knew Mom had a few injuries now and again but didn’t know the full extent of what they were going through, since I had been a bit preoccupied with troubles of my own.

I’m still at odds about telling them anything now since I received no support while I was at home so odds are I would receive no support now. Still blood is thicker than water I suppose since here I am basically supporting Mom and Sis as I’m paying for all the food everyone is eating as well as the various things Mom and Sis need plus reimbursing Tan with a sort of a ‘rent’ for them. Me moving out of the old house and then Mom finally divorcing him might even be enough to shock Dad into some kind of remorse — but I doubt it. Revenge would be more his style as well as that of my dear brother.

Tan and I departed for the airport on Sunday morning, flying to our destination. Well, except for a drive of an hour in a rental car. We are back at the same ‘hotel’ where we stayed before except this time I have greater restrictions and a little green badge. It means I may go to a number of places unescorted but not all that many and almost all of them are in the ‘hotel’ or the shops in the small ‘town’ it is in. As I’m uncertain about so many of the locations I am not allowed to visit, even in the town, I believe it’s safer if I just wait until someone may guide me to my scheduled destinations. Once I make it to a basic orange badge with various yucky stripes on it then I may have greater freedom. Meanwhile, my classes have begun and my first language lessons occur in order to determine my aptitude for learning languages. The results show that I have little problem with the Romance languages, so those have been added to my list of things to learn. Lucky me.

My Dutch is determined to be passable and improving every day. I’m actually able to converse at nearly an adult level, which I guess is good since they won’t let me use any language but Dutch when I’m not in a class. My instructor/ Translator is a ‘hard nose’, too. She won’t let me get away with anything. At this rate in only another couple of years I might even sound like I actually hail from there. That’s good since it’s part of my cover in the modeling world. Russian and German are difficult. German, I feel like I’m clearing my throat all the time and at the end of the first week I wound up gargling a number of times trying to sooth my poor sore throat. The German also confuses my Dutch or vice-versa and I’m wondering what the relationship is there but haven’t the time to find out. Russian is just so different that it’s like being born and growing up all over again. I suppose they say the same thing about our use of English or American English if you prefer.

We have one British English speaker teaching here and he is constantly upset over the ‘bastardizing of the English language which you Colonials bring about as a matter of course.’ He has us reading some Shakespearean Sonnets to try to ‘gain a feeling for the soul of the language’. If some of our people didn’t need to be able to speak like the British during some assignments... “Be it resolved, English should remain spoken solely by the English while you Yanks should find another language of your own.” I need another Aspirin.

At least my shooting is improving. Well... most of the time. I hate those pop-up target thingys with pictures of people holding guns. I take too long to decide if the person holding the gun is supposed to be friendly or not. I finally began shooting anything that moved except the people that weren’t holding guns, but that upset my instructors as well.

“Shooting good guys is NOT an allowed activity, Miss Van Derholt.”

“Neither is dying, so you need to decide which I’m allowed to do, I can’t seem to do both and since I’m rather fond of staying alive I’m going to shoot everyone who has a gun until I have the time to sort them out.”

I think they’re upset with me as they throw their hands up or look up to the sky and try not to say nasty words directly to me, but they manage to say quite a few as they walk away and loud enough that I hear them.

They keep telling me I would be shooting expert if I could refrain from killing the good guys along with the bad ones.

“Can’t you put something on the good guys pictures so I will know they’re good guys? I mean, trying to remember who’s a good guy and who isn’t when I’ve only seen their pictures once is a little difficult. Besides, I have fifteen bullets in the weapon and there are only ten of them all together so I may even shoot some of them twice. Although I don’t believe I could kill someone twice so that’s a bit of a waste.”

“Miss Van Derholt, how can you be so good with the firearm and not be able to tell a good guy from a bad one?”

“Well, if you made all the good guys look like models with whom I’ve worked or perhaps like Tanner or Irina or the few of you which I know, then I would know not to shoot them because I know them.”

“Please Miss, the whole idea is you don’t know these people but you must work with them and have only just been introduced to the team and to the photos of the bad guys the team is going after.”

“Why do they all have to look so much alike?”

“Because they’re working undercover and must look the parts they are playing.”

“Oh. I don’t suppose they could wear white or something while we are working together?”

“It doesn’t work that way Miss Van Derholt. Perhaps if we have someone else do the shooting and save you for the emergencies. Once you start shooting all of our people could just stay down until you are out of ammunition.”

I don’t know if he meant that or if he was being facetious. Somehow I don’t believe he was complementing my shooting ability. We cut off training early that day and shooting was dropped from my subjects for the rest of the week.

Tan and I had most evenings together and we managed to get off to a musical during one of those. I enjoyed that; and the late night dinner that followed. He mentioned something about some instruction to improve my recognition skills but for now I was wowing my instructors.

“Yes. All except Mr. Brown at the range. He thinks I’m hopeless.”

“Not really, Kat. He says you are one of the best natural talents he has seen come through in a long time. His only complaint is, you kill everyone.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Only if you want to make me happy. There are times when I would have preferred to kill everyone as well.”

“In that case, I’m your girl.”

“You want to make points with Bi... Mr. Brown? Let him put you into a shoot-off with some of our top shooters. He’ll try to be certain there are no ‘good guys’ for you to shoot. If you beat our shooters and he is betting on you then he stands to make some serious money and that always makes him happy.”

“Betting? On whether I can shoot better than some people who have been doing it for years? You’ve got to be joking, Tan.”

“Not really. You’re good and don’t be surprised if he asks. When he was talking with Tony today he mentioned it might be a good experience for you. Sort of an off-the-cuff experience.”

“And do you think I could win?”

“I think you could give them one hell of a run for their money.”

“And if I don’t win?”

“Brown will probably hedge his bets by stipulating a point spread. If you come in better than that then he makes money. All you need to do is the best you can do. Even if you are at a lower score than our shooters, he could still make money and be happy. Of course the better you do, the more money he stands to make but just shoot; don’t try to win it all. You’re presently listed as a third week who is shooting close to eighteenth week levels; but you really are shooting like you’ve been doing it for a couple of years so he stands to win money even if you just show up and hit a couple dozen targets. Of course a kill is better than just a hit but don’t worry about it.”

“Easy for you to say. You aren’t the one doing the shooting. All right, but against my better judgement.”

“We leave Monday so he’ll probably want to set it up for Saturday or Sunday.”

“I have three language lessons Saturday.”

“What time?

I have to think about that, “8:00, 10:00 and 2:00, I think. I’m not certain. I don’t remember the schedule but I could tell you as soon as we go back to the hotel.”

“I’ll have him bring up your schedule and check.” Tan pulls out his cell and hits a speed dial.

“HI. It’s Tan... Pretty good. She okay’d it tentatively but says she has classes Saturday, could you pull up her schedule and check the times?... Yeah, I’ll wait... Yeah, I’m still here... 8:00, 10:00 and 4:00? You certain?... Hang on a sec.”

Tan turns to me, “you heard?”

“Yes. I could have sworn my last lesson was earlier than that but okay.”

“What about 1:00 for the shoot-out. It will last about an hour or so. You should be okay for your 4:00 class. That would allow you noon to 1:00 for lunch.”

“If I can eat anything. I’ll be nervous as a cat.”

“Okay KAT, that make sense.” He turns back to his cell as I scowl at him for a moment.

“She okay’d 1:00 for the shoot-out. Yeah. Sounds good to me. Try to keep the number of good guys to a bare minimum if any. Remember, shooting a good guy disqualifies the shooter. That sounds better, no good guys. What about tomorrow, do you think you could give her a quick run through so she knows basically what to expect? What does her schedule look like? Clear after 5:00? Any hour free during the day? 10:00 to 11:00? That sounds better. I’ll come along so she can see a little better how it’s going to go down. Yeah. I’ll pick her up at the end of her French class and we’ll be there less than ten later. If it’s all ready to go then we could begin almost immediately. Twenty minutes to half an hour should do it. Good, we’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Okay, Kat. I’ll pick you up right after French and we’ll drive over. He’ll have the computer set up and ready to go. We’ll each take a crack at the course with the computer doing the scoring. I’ll go first so you can see what to expect then we’ll get an idea of how you can do. He’ll probably give you a few pointers before you do the course and you’ll have a spare magazine because there will be twenty five targets. Just remember you can’t shoot twice at everyone or you will run out of bullets at fifteen targets.”

I suppose I don’t look all that confident as he puts his arm around me, “Don’t worry Kat. You’ll do great.”

What I did great at was Italian and French. The range was another story.
I hit all twenty five targets and killed fourteen of them. Tan killed all twenty five. I had one bullet remaining and Tan had five. I’m not so certain about this shoot-out thing now but Tan and Mr. Brown seem overjoyed.

I wash my hands and Tan takes me to lunch then to my next class. By the end of the day I’m too tired to even care about that stupid shoot-out.

Saturdays classes demand a skirt so that means I’ll be going to shoot while wearing it. Wonderful, since I should kneel for some of the shots. I’ve been wearing my pistol (unloaded) and the holster under my suit jacket but everyone knows it’s there anyway and there are quite a few who also know about the shoot-out... including all of the instructors, unfortunately.

“Good Morning, Miss Oakley. Good luck on the range today.”

See what I mean? “Thank you.”

I wish it was all over and perhaps somehow time could shift and it could be six months from now. I really would like to take those classes in photography and cinematography, they sound really cool. I’d also like to be able to use all of the resolution my new camera can provide without needing to look over my shoulder to see who’s watching. Tan was looking at some of my shots and he thinks the detail could easily rival 35mm and possibly the medium format 120 (?). I look at him like he’s crazy. Except for the 35mm the 120 means nothing to me. The only reason I know about the 35mm is because I used one in school along with a small press camera which used sheet film and was a two and a quarter by three and a quarter.

Tan tells me, “The 120 is about a 2&â…“ by 2&â…“ inch negative.”

Okay, so it’s bigger than 35mm and smaller than the press camera. I’m still in the dark.

“Never mind, Kat. It just means you can take some really detailed pictures.”

“I already knew that.”

When Tan and I pull up at the range I find there are four men there who are going to shoot in the competition. There is also an audience in the bleachers... about a hundred people or so. The men were going to allow me “ladies first” but the range master called for lots and we eventually wound up drawing straws which placed me last for some reason. I think the range master just wanted to give me the time to become really nervous.

Each of the men goes through the range with varying degrees of success but much better than I did yesterday. They all end up with five spare bullets and most of them kill all of their bad guys. The worst shooter wounded two bad guys.

Now it’s my turn to produce for whatever it’s worth.

When I finish I have four bullets left. One target didn’t go down when I shot it so I had to shoot again. In checking the scoring, either one of my hits should have killed the bad guy so it was chalked up as a glitch in the program and I was allowed the bullet. I killed twenty one and severely wounded four with ‘five’ spare bullets. Not as good as the men but Mr. Brown seems very happy. In fact, so does Tan who comes over to me a few minutes later and says, “Dinner’s on me tonight, Kat. Anywhere you want to go.”

I think that means he won quite a bit.

“How much did you bet on me, Tan?”

“Not a lot.”

“How much is ‘not a lot’?”

“Twenty...”

Oh. That’s not too bad.

“Each.”

“Twenty dollars on each person? That’s a hundred dollars!”

“Each target.”

“Each target? I don’t understand.”

“It’s a little like a handicap, Kat. There were twenty five targets. We had to stipulate that you could kill just over half of them or fourteen. Every target less than that I would have to pay out the difference of the average kills for the guys and your kills times twenty dollars. For every target over that each bettor had to put twenty in the kitty to pay those who bet on you to exceed your handicap points. You killed twenty one which was seven over. That meant the losers, which isn’t just the shooters, had to pay more into the overall pot and all the winners shared the pot in proportion to the money they put into it. Short story, I collected two hundred and two dollars from the pot and I think your Mr. Brown did a bit better than that.”

“How much is a ‘bit’?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a thousand.”

I turn pale, “Dollars?”

“Sure, dollars. Relax Kat, at the moment you are his favorite pupil. We would have collected a bit less except the shooters wanted a recheck of your scoring and that’s when the double tap on Mr. Kelly proved to be two kill hits. All your kills were valid and your non-kills were good enough to take the bad guys out of the action. Good going, Kat.”

I still don’t understand how I could provide a win for so many people when I didn’t do as well as the men but I’m not going to argue.

That evening Tan and I go out to supper and I’m wearing a borrowed evening gown. The school has an extensive selection of clothing. The evening gown I’m wearing is styled more like that which I should be wearing had I really been from Europe. It isn’t strapless but I think the strange cut makes me look a bit mysterious. Is she or isn’t she? European I mean...

There is a dance floor but the dances are a bit fast for me so I opt out despite Tan’s attempts to entice me onto the floor so he may hold me close. I gave him a kiss on the cheek in compensation, which turned into a kiss on the lips. I’m not certain he didn’t take a little more compensation that I had originally intended. It was nice, however.

Sunday was rather uneventful and all we really needed to accomplish was our packing. We spent a couple of hours discussing new photo jobs which he had either accepted or was considering. Three of them involve me while most are going to the other girls. My next couple of weeks will be busy. We also discussed a couple of jobs which will involve photography amidst other things. No I can’t tell you more. In fact I’m not certain I’m even supposed to know as much as I do about the jobs. Am I a spy yet?

It’s about this time I remember that I’m going to have Sis working at the studio again since she is basically doing the job I started out doing. I’ve graduated to modeling or assisting Tan by taking pictures of my own or running the computer to display the results to the clients.

Tan has decided to take another overseas shoot. Yes, this is a cover for one of those jobs I didn’t tell you about. This time he is thinking of taking the computer driven cameras along. That makes the purchase of the Lithium batteries a necessity. They, at least, will be lighter and slightly smaller than the lead acid batteries they will replace. New chargers will also be needed and this time he will obtain one for each battery so they are all able to be charged at the same time.

The information about the batteries, which we found on the Internet, indicates the charge time from dead to fully charged is just under four hours, with the proviso there is an electrical outlet of sufficient capacity to allow it. Since the chargers are “smart”, they measure the incoming voltage from the outlet and adjust the charge rate based upon the drop in the supply voltage from static voltage prior to charge and that to which the supply voltage drops once they begin consuming current. I have a vague idea what this means but can’t visualize how they could prevent the breaker for the outlet from popping but the information seems to indicate it is unlikely to occur. The charge time will simply become a bit longer to compensate for the reduced charge rate.

You know what’s scary about all this information? I think I’m beginning to actually understand it. As it turns out, when we first tried the charging sequence once we had the batteries, we plugged three of them into the same outlet box and it took nearly thirteen hours to charge the batteries. One, alone, did just fine at a little under four hours, and no, the breaker didn’t pop, either time. How do they do that?

to be continued

I wake up in the morning to find everything has changed.

When Tan and I arrived home from the farm it was late on Friday night. Mom and Sis apparently had just gone to bed when we showed up. They hit their panic buttons before they knew who we were so we all had to explain everything when the security company responded in force. Other than that their six weeks were relatively uneventful.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Saturday morning I was up early, still being on east coast time, so I went down to ‘my’ kitchen to learn nearly all the food was gone and all my kitchen utensils, bowls, and other odds and ends which made it “my” kitchen where now in different locations than where I had left them. I’m glad I was up early, it took me two hours to straighten out my kitchen before I went back up and dressed so I could rush off to the market to obtain the makings of breakfast, both freezers, the refrigerator and the pantry were nearly bare. I’ll need to revise my thinking about all this as I’m spending my money almost as fast as I’m earning it. At this rate I’ll be an ‘in-between’ for the next ten years and I think I want to make the change long before that.

Somehow we need to find Mom and Sis somewhere to live and jobs so they may support themselves. That could be a bit difficult for Mom as she hasn’t had a job in... ummm... well, since Sis was born?? I’m not saying that keeping a house and rearing children isn’t a full time job but it really isn’t one that pays very much... and the hours are a bit long.

About the time everyone else is rising, I’ve returned and have breakfast just about ready to get under way. Some nice omelets with all the ‘little’ add ins which make ten eggs seem like twelve, plus pancakes, coffee, ham and sausage, toast with blackberry jam plus hash browns for Tan and anyone else who might want them or cottage cheese with a pear half for each of us girls. I moved the coffee pot into the dining room and left the accordion doors open into the rest of the house while the coffee was brewing. I was hoping the smell would somehow percolate to the rest of the house and draw everyone down. Either we have unexpected visitors or I suppose it worked since I soon heard mumbles of conversation in the dining room and the light clacking of cups on saucers. Tan actually dared to come into the kitchen long enough to ask if there was any sugar before he beat a hasty retreat back into the dining room. I suppose there’s safety in numbers.

We basically reintroduce ourselves and Mom and Sis are glad to have someone to talk to other than themselves. After breakfast I remind Sis that she has a job to go to, which confuses her for a few seconds before she remembers and rushes back upstairs in a panic. Forty minutes later she is ready and so are we. Mom got ready as well since she couldn’t stand the thought of being ‘home alone’, so the four of us make an appearance at the studio.

The remainder of Saturday was interesting to say the least. We had a make up photo shoot scheduled with one of Tan’s girls and an old client. It was supposed to happen Thursday but we didn’t make it back in time. Tan promised to have everything out and in their hands early Monday morning even if he had to work on it all night... which he probably would.

Mom, Sis and I spent that shoot going over all the little things which need to be done and we used Sue as our guinea model. She could hardly be called a pig since she looks anorexic. A little too thin as far as I was concerned. Mom kept trying to push carrot and celery sticks at her. After a couple of weeks, Mom was the one who took over the position I had originally filled and Sis moved over to running the computer and learning Tan’s editing program. The client would review the images on the computer and when they tentatively selected a shot, Sis would apply her magic and make it into a wondrous thing of beauty. Tan provided her with the raw materials and she made them into something which had the clients salivating. The models seemed to come right off the page with the clothing and model obviously the center piece of the photo. Eventually, I took over the book keeping and some of the photography as we began to grow.

The idea of the travel promos also began to receive more consideration even though Tan still hasn’t quite figured how a documentary could fit into the game. Apparently he had been talking to Tony about all this because a couple of months after Sis and I were dragooned into taking a cinematography course or two, the four of us plus two models wound up going back to the farm to produce a twenty three minute publicity piece. I seriously doubt it will ever be shown in a public venue but we are being paid to produce it and it will be shown to budding agents. It was an interesting challenge trying to glamorize learning foreign languages. Pam took that to interesting new heights. Apparently she has an affinity for Russian. It’s kind of exotic. When she is speaking Russian I have this vision of her actually being from there with her Slavic cheekbones and all.

Tan and I, on the other hand, had our hands full trying to make something out of all the XHD footage we shot. Sis came in really handy at that once she learned that editing program’s quirks. The week it took her to figure it out, I think I learn a good dozen new swear words which I never would have suspected Sis would ever have known. Tan I were sweating the setup expenses. The four cameras and edit suite were terribly exorbitant in price and his people couldn’t get us much of a discount since the cost was pretty much fixed for the Sony equipment. Sony did do us some favors though and provided some additional stuff to help us along at half price, but the cameras and editing computer system still hit over four hundred and fifty very big ones. They amounted to what I could make in six to eight very good months. Tan shrugs it off as “possibly a good investment.”

Tricia, was our star performer during the ‘I spy’ interval. She made a great display of field craft while I fell back into my old game, shooting good guys as well as bad. We edited out the shooting the good guys parts.

“Really Miss Van Derholt, I had hoped that during your absence you would have learned to only shoot the bad guys. It’s a wonder we have any agents remaining.”

I’m really not that bad. I killed all the bad guys and only wounded the good guys. I usually figured it out just as I pulled the trigger and I would try to aim away at the last instant... thus only wounding the targets which were supposed to be our guys. “Oh well, maybe someday.”

“I’m certain our agents will appreciate your efforts, Miss Van Derholt.”

“I am improving. What do you want for only doing this for six months?”

“Most of our agents don’t shoot the good guys after six months.”

“Most of the agents who don’t shoot the good guys after six months also get killed by one or more of the bad guys. I manage to kill all the bad guys successfully.”

“A fortunate series of events to which my wallet happily attests.”

“You’re not planing any more little shoot outs are you?”

“No. Unfortunately word has gotten around. We do, however, have a group of unenlightened FBI coming in next week if you will still be here then.”

“Unfortunately, no.” I say a bit sarcastically, “Tan and I leave this Friday. Next week is pretty much filled with work on the home front. Sorry.”

“Me also. It’s a pleasure seeing you here, Miss Van DerHolt. Please return often.”

“Is that your wallet saying that or you?”

He pauses a moment before answering, “Would it wound you if I said it was both?”

“Possibly.”

“In that case I shall say it for myself as we shall miss your pleasant demeanor gracing the range.”

I look at him with surprise as he is usually a gruff old son-of-a-gun, no pun intended.

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome Miss Van DerHolt. Good luck in your new adventures.”

He points at the cameras, one of which is on a wide shot of the range while the other two are being operated by Tan and Sis to pull following shots or close ups. The last shots taken are of the computer print-out showing my hits. Sis will need to do some fancy editing to remove my hits on the good guys. She simply asks for a printout which has been doctored to remove that portion of the information. Simple huh? I wouldn’t have thought of that. I envisioned some masterful work with the editing program, not some low level quick and dirty fix like simply removing the information before printing. She asks if I have unloaded my pistol before she sends me back out to the good guy targets where I go through the motions without pulling the trigger.

“I’ll edit those in and no one will be the wiser.”

Have I ever mentioned that Sis can be quite devious when she wants to be? Don’t play cards with her. I learned that back when we were kids.
Don’t play Risk or other board games with her either. She can be like a shark in prey infested waters, once she begins to sense blood she can’t stop herself.

~O~

Once we return home, Sis lays claim to a corner of our little world at the studio much as Irina did for his makeup section. She set up the computers in a corner defined by one wall of Tan’s office and two sides of the building, then asked for some of those office dividers so she could create a little nook in which she could work without people looking over her shoulder. Two weeks later, after chasing us away innumerable times in the interim, she unveils her masterpiece. Actually, two. One is forty four minutes and seven seconds in length and the other is twenty two minutes fifty-nine seconds, seven frames. Don’t ask me. I haven’t a clue. I’ve never heard of ‘frames’. My day is divided into hours, minutes and seconds; of which there are far too many hours and not enough seconds or minutes. Now that I think about it, we should be able to do something about that, shouldn’t we?

Tashia is still working in her nook. She now has all of the editing computers in there including the ones she uses to enhance Tan’s still photos. A few days after she unveiled her masterpieces and made master DVDs for Tan to send to Tony at the farm, she calls over the top of her self imposed partitions.

“Sis... SIS... KAT!” I’m vaguely aware of my sister yelling at me before exiting her nook to find and drag me back so she may show me something and ask some questions.

“Sis, I’m cutting the forty four minute master to make room for commercials so they could release it for public consumption if they so wish. I’m also making a presentation copy which may be shown at University recruitment. I know this wasn’t part of the original package but it isn’t all that difficult to do and they might like it. Anyway, I’m cutting about half of the range stuff out to reduce the time of that segment so there will be room for the others. I want you to help me decide what should stay and what should go.”

“Okay, Sis. Go ahead and ru...”

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! Oh God, Kat. You’re beautiful. You finally did it. Wow, that’s great. You were always so unhappy as Mac and I really was so sad about what happened when I outed you that day I managed to get you into one of my skirts. You were pretty.”

She grabs me and hugs tight.

“Are you going to tell Mom?” she asks exuberantly.

I’m wondering what just happened and how Sis suddenly knew I was Mac.
Sis is still bubbling, “This is so great. I’ve got a sister. You’re wearing his engagement ring. When are you getting married? Wow. I’m living with my sister.”

“I... You... Uh... How did you know?” I still have that marvelous knack for sounding really intelligent when the situation demands it.

“I didn’t. I suspected, and Mom and I talked about it... a lot. Especially while you and Tan were gone that first time and then again when we were in our room during this last trip to make the documentary. I finally simply had to know so I tried this little trap and it worked.” She nearly strangles me again, “I’ve got a sister.”

She says that last little bit just as Mom walks into the nook area to see what all the noise is about.

“Girls. GIRLS. Please keep it to a dull roar. We are doing a photo shoot out there you know.” She points back at the portion of the studio beyond the dividers. “Kat, you have work to do out there — You and I need to have a conversation after this shoot is over, young lady. Tashia Elaine don’t you have work to do? I can find something if you don’t.”

Talk about a wet blanket.

“Yes, Mom.” Tashia turns back to her computers.

“Yes, Mom.” I begin to walk past Mom to exit the nook.

Mom smiles and grabs me in a hug. “Have you been a ‘good’ girl, Kat? I won’t have one of my daughters engaging in improprieties before she’s married.”

“Mom, she’s engaged. It’s not like she’s going with any old Tom, Dick or Harry. It’s Tanner, for God’s sake.”

“She will still be a refined young lady. I’ll not have her bringing shame upon the family.”

Shame? If me changing from a boy to a girl isn’t shame in her book, what is? Oh... I get it. I’m a girl, so no sex.

I blush a deep crimson, “Mom!? You brought me up better than that.”

“Good. I was beginning to be concerned. But you are still going to have that conversation with me.”

Cripes. “Yes Mom.”

“Kat. I mean it.”

I exhale and drop my shoulders, “Yes Mom.”

Once Mom tells us how it’s going to be there is no changing her mind.
WAIT A MINUTE! I’ve got a Mom and Sister again. Well... I mean, I always did but... Oh hell, you know what I mean.

I suddenly grab onto Mom for all I’m worth as tears begin to flow and somehow I choke out, “Mo... Mom...”

Sis has to get into the act so she comes up behind me and wraps her arms around me laying her head onto my back; “Welcome back to the family, Kat.”

Tan picks this moment to see what’s holding us up and walks around the corner of the dividers. “What’s the hold up he...” The moment he sees us, with me crying and Mom and Sis wrapped around me he takes the coward’s way out and beats a hasty retreat.

Somehow things get back to normal, then after I do a hasty clean up in the little girl’s room, I’m back out helping Tan with the shooting and showing Mom how to operate the display computer for the client. She made good on her statement as well. Almost as soon as the client was gone, Mom had me cornered and was well on the way to delivering me her birds and bees lecture along with what she expects in a daughter.

“You think I don’t know you both go into his bedroom and close and lock the door? I know. And I know what sort of things go on in there as well young lady.”

I’m at a loss, “But, Mom? When have I ever gone into his bedroom and we locked the door?”

“WHEN? You think I’m blind? You have seven times gone there, that which I know. You go in and don’t come out for three hours, sometimes more. Now what would you be doing in the bedroom for three hours with the door locked I ask you?”

I’m confused. I don’t remember any times when Tan and I went into his bedroom and locked the... Oh. Oh this is just great. How do I explain this so Mom will know we weren’t doing anything? Well, I mean, we were but not what she’s thinking. We were downstairs shooting. I didn’t realise she noticed.

“Uh... Mom. It isn’t what you think.”

“I should hope not. What would the neighbors think?”

“The neigh... Mom?”

“I mean, a daughter of mine going into a bedroom with a man before she’s married and locking the door.”

“Mom. Let me explain. It isn’t what you think. We weren’t in the bedroom.”

“You go in, lock the door and don’t come out for three hours or more. So where are you if not in the bedroom?”

“In the second basement. It’s a secret.”

“Basement? What do you mean, basement? You are making dirty movies?”

She says that so loud I’m afraid the tenants in the part of the building upstairs from the studio will hear us.

“Mom! NO! Quiet, please Mom. The walls have ears.”

“So do bedrooms.” She can’t seem to get off that kick.

“Mom. We can’t talk about it here. I promise I’ll take you in and show you as soon as we get home.”

“What? This is more of your secrets and spy stuff?”

At least she is a lot more quiet now.

“Yes, Mom. It is. It’s stuff you can’t talk about except down in that secret basement because... Because it’s too easy to put bugs in this studio or in the house and people could hear things we don’t want them to know.” I tell her almost at a whisper near her ear.

“I’ll have you know I keep a clean house. There are no bugs.”

“Not that kind Mom. The kind I’m talking about are electronic and are put there by spies. When Tan and I go into the bedroom we go through a secret door and down to the basement where we may talk or practice shooting.”

“So you swear to me you have been a good girl?”

“Yes, Mom. I have.”

“You swear by Grandmother Leisel?”

“Yes, Momma. I swear.”

“Hummpft. We see then later. Go. Go do your work, and you show me this... secret when we go home.”

Sometimes Momma scares me more than Dad ever could.

~O~

We have one more photo shoot during the afternoon and following it I pull Tan aside to try to explain it all to him. It’s almost as complicated as the ‘spy stuff’. He isn’t happy with taking Mom and Sis downstairs but at least he can see the negative side of what Mom is thinking. With his reluctant agreement when we return home we make the excursion to the second basement.

Mom is mildly mollified but still fiercely protective of her daughter’s virtue and now she has a new complaint.

“Look at the dirt down here.” She swipes her finger across the edge of the floor located between the furthest run for the targets and that of the shooting area. “Look at this filth. It will take a week to clean all this. And the smell is of old dirty rags. You clean maybe once a year?”

It didn’t take a week. Now that she knows about it, she was down every day. She had it clean enough to eat off in only three days and smelling of air freshener. She had three vases of flowers, a couple of chairs that she dragged down there when we weren’t looking and even hung a couple of pictures on the block walls. Don’t ever ask Momma to redecorate for you, you’d wind up with a house you couldn’t recognise as your own.

Momma has also taken over my kitchen. When it was my kitchen and I wasn’t her daughter then she kept quiet but now that I’m her daughter she has taken over the entire house. I am, “to learn the proper way to keep a house for my husband to be.”

As if I don’t have enough on my plate.

I’m beginning to seriously consider moving back into my old apartment if the manager will rent it to me. Tan has broached the subject of eloping and never returning. This topic seems to be coming up more and more frequently whenever we are down at the range. So much so that I’ve found him looking for properties in Virginia.

“She would track us down, Tan. Leave her be, it gives her something to do.”

“She isn’t going on our honeymoon with us too, is she?”

“I hope not. I love my Mom but sometimes enough is enough.”

“Are you two lovebirds down here? Ah, there you are. I have supper ready. Are you going to eat or play with your toys down here all night?”

Tan mutters quietly in my ear, “We should never have shown her this room.”

“Mom, I don’t need to be chaperoned every second I’m with Tan.”

“You would rather it was your Father looking out for your virtue? Be happy I let you go so many places alone with him. Come. Both of you. It’s time for supper.”

“We need to clean the guns.”

“So, they will become dirtier in an hour or two? Supper will become cold and dry, the guns may wait. Come. And wash your hands before you come to the table.” She takes each of us by the arm and leads us back upstairs. I’m beginning to have some empathy for what Tashia went through as she grew up. No wonder she couldn’t keep boy friends very long. If it wasn’t Mom then it was Dad; and we all knew how understanding Dad could be.

to be continued

The Far Side of the Hill

After a week or so I discover it actually isn’t so bad to have Momma in charge. Once we learned her schedule things went pretty smoothly. It could have been worse, she could have taken over the studios too.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

“Why should I do the cleaning and take care of everything here? This is your fiancee’s world, I am not responsible for correcting all the little mistakes and filth he makes here. That will be your responsibility after you are married. For now, I’ll just show you how to tidy it up a little.”

“Yes, Momma.” Humor her... she gives in as soon as she thinks she has gotten her way and goes off to lecture someone else. I think she’s laying it on a little thicker for me since I didn’t have all those years to learn everything. She’s trying to pack it all into a few months. You know, she needs to strip out all my boy training and refill me with the girl stuff I should have received. I’m beginning to see more merit in Tan’s suggestion that we should just elope. I’m torn since I’m certain Momma would likely track us down and drag us back by our ears before delivering a lecture about not allowing her to plan our wedding before once again beginning the ‘training’ she feels I should have before Tan and I begin our lives together. Sis just watches it all. I just know she’s hiding back there in her corner where we can’t see her smirking about it. Now that I think about it, we should never have let her know about the farm nor to have talked with Tony. It seems we have mutual relatives somewhere back a few generations and Tony and his wife are interested in talking more with Momma. What scares me is she might wind up being the “den mother” for the farm. It would never survive.

One surprise I received happened to occur when Sis showed me some editing she did of the XHD stuff we now do during the modeling sessions. She had a composited excerpt of me from both the shows and several other locations which she was going to show to Tan and probably add to my portfolio.

“Gosh Kat, you look like you’ve been doing this stuff all your life. You look great.”

She doesn’t know how close she is to the truth. I’ve only been me for a short time, so I’ve been doing this for almost as long as I’ve had a chance to be me. There was what, a difference of thirty or forty minutes? That counts as being all my ‘life’ doesn’t it?

Other than Momma taking over my house... well, Tan’s house actually, things are progressing pretty normally. By now, both Sis and I have successfully completed several cinematography courses via the farm that isn’t a farm, and their connections with the Universities. Gee, I’m getting better at this double think. Does that mean I’m almost a spy? So far I don’t know of any spy training I’ve received except maybe being able to shoot and understand other languages. Everything I’ve been learning is more to distract and support rather than what I would have thought being a spy entails. I’m still wondering if I’m the comic relief in this farce.

Anyway, Tan is great at the still stuff but motion pics are treated a quite a bit differently. They also require editing beyond that which still pics need. A lot of editing. Oh, and now I’m more certain about the definition of ‘frames’. One second is divided into thirty frames or twenty nine point nine four if we shoot in colour which we do all the time. It has something to do with how TV works. Don’t ask me, all I know is how to count in film or television otherwise it makes absolutely no sense to me. Oh, and film is different than TV with twenty four frames each shown twice unless it’s being shown for television then each two frames in succession are shown twice for the first one and three times for the second . Sometimes it’s quite confusing. Especially if I forget if I’m shooting film or shooting XHD. A quick glance at the cameras helps me figure that out.

Our first productions turned out all right but were a little embarrassing, especially later on when we’ve had some more courses and a few productions under our belts. Sis can’t stand it and re-edits the old material we did for Tony then sends him disks of the newly edited material.

Gee, thanks Sis. That little effort brought us back up on Tony’s radar and he began prodding Tan for us to take a few more ‘little’ assignments along with more training. By the end of the year we added eleven short term (less than two weeks each) assignments to my portfolio — and nearly two more months of training.

On our next trip back to the farm I discovered they have finally acquired horses. It isn’t long after that I have another new course to attend. Someone whom I know and love blabbed, which now has Tony scheduling me through some new courses; ie. learning to ride so I may eventually add Eventing to my stable (sic) of distraction talents. It only took me three years to become halfway proficient. My first event (disaster) occurred after only a year and a half of training. I came in sixteenth out of eighteen competitors. The other two dropped out due to injuries.

Also, around a year and a half after all this started, I saved enough money modeling and producing documentaries to pay for my transition and the doctors gave me the ‘boost’ to my system over a four week period which they hoped would jump start my uterus. That ‘boost’ also brought my B-cup up to just under a C. Tan and I were married about four months after those four weeks of injections which tipped my gender scales to the female side of the ledger. Mom, of course, invited the world to the wedding, “So, the more people you invite the more presents you receive for your house.” She managed to use up the rest of my remaining funds on the wedding and put me in hock for about twenty thou besides. Prior to our wedding she spent the last three weeks drilling me in everything I never wanted to know about being a wife and lover as well as exactly how I’m expected to act during the wedding so I don’t embarrass either her or my sister. Tan has been trying to seriously convince me to elope during these past few days.

...“Do you Katrina Van Derholt take this man, Phillip Tanner Hamersley, for your lawful wedded husband, for richer, for poorer, in sickness”...

I always thought I would get married some day but for some reason my mind never wrapped around the possibility I would be the woman of the twosome. Tan looks nervous. He also looks really cute in that tuxedo. I can’t wait to get it off him.

It’s so strange to find myself here, well... not here, but in this particular roll. NO! I won’t trade it for the other, I don’t care that it still seems strange every now and then. I’ll get over it. Anyway, I’ve got to get some milage out of all the clothes I’ve been buying, so being the girl is about the only way I can do that. Geez, I’m just kidding, don’t take me so seriously.

After Tan and I escaped our reception we traveled to Europe for our honeymoon. There we discovered we were collecting the cameras, lighting equipment, motion picture XHD cameras and eight other people including Irina at our overnight stop passing through London before we arrived at our destination to begin our working honeymoon. (If Tony ever offers to plan an all expenses paid honeymoon for you, don’t take him up on it. In fact, run the other way — fast.)

Our happy little group spent the next two months in four different countries plying our trade. I’m getting better at both photography and cinematography. Tan and I managed to bring in no little bit of income to our company and I’m going to replenish a small portion of what I’ve spent becoming me over these past eighteen months. I’ve also been keeping this diary but haven’t had much time to write in it lately. Tan seems to feel it isn’t necessary any longer. When we are at home we tend to be certain our door is locked far more frequently now. If I have to explain that then I’m certain you’re not from this planet.

“How’s my wife doing today?”

“I’m doing the same as yesterday, Tan. And the day before and the day before that. Come on, I can read you like a book. What’s Tony got for us before we return home, now? And no, I won’t take any assignments after this one. I want to see my Mom and my sister again. We also need to dust the cobwebs off our business building.”

“Don’t be that way, Kat. We can use the money.”

“Sweetheart, we’ve just pulled Tony’s fat out of the fire no less than twice during the past two and a half months. Not to mention the three times we were ‘loaned’ out to aid a needy ‘business’. I want to go home and rest for a month before we get involved in much more.”

“I thought you wanted to see France?”

“Yes. But not a working vacation.”

“Not even when it’s something you like to do?”

“Like what?”

“Riding Champion.”

“Champion? Champion’s in France? What’s Tony up to now?”

“He thought you might like to ride in another competition.”

“Uh, huh. And what, pray tell, are you going to be doing while I’m out becoming saddle sore and weary?”

“I’ll be cheering you on.”

“Of course you will, my love. Just how far away will you be while you ‘cheer me on’?”

Tan looks at me with his wounded expression which I’ve learned means he is about to hide something.

“I’ll be close, Kat. I promise.”

“Exactly how close is ‘close’?”

“Close.”

“Tan. It better be less than twenty miles. If I come up in the money again, I want you to be there.”

“I will be, Kat. I promise.”

“Uh, huh. Just like when you promised last time? I came in higher than fourth for the first time in my riding career and you were nowhere to be found. I’m beginning to feel like the spare tyre in a car, I’m just going along for the ride. What would Tony do if I said, no?”

Tan gets his distressed look.

“Tan. Tell me you didn’t already accept the assignment.”

“I didn’t accept the assignment.”

“Why? You know I wanted to go home. We’ve been out here nearly three months...”

“Two and a half.”

“Fine. Two and a half. I want to go home. How many more jobs have you two planned over here before I get to do that?”

“You can go home right after this one.” he pleads.

“I can go home? What happened to we? I want us to go home. I want to sleep with my husband in our own bed, under our own roof. I want to cook. I want to spend some alone time with my husband, which I haven’t been able to do since we first came over here.”

“We will, Kat.”

“When? And you still haven’t told me how many jobs you have planned.”

“Aww, Kat.”

“Tan. How many?”

“Just...”

“HOW many?”

His shoulders droop and he looks crestfallen. In a quiet voice, “four.”

“What?” I begin to swing on him but stop myself just before my hand gets to his face.

I pat him on the face instead, “Tan. How much time will these four jobs require?”

“Not much.”

“Tan. Stop it. I’m your wife. Exactly how much time?”

“A month, maybe two.”

“TWO?!” I shout out, “You get on the net and tell Tony that if either of you plans one day past those two months then I’m coming hunting and he won’t be able to find a hole deep enough to hide in.”

“Aww, Kat.”

“Don’t you ‘Kat’ me, Tanner Hamersley. I’m your wife, not your slave. If we are here one day past sixty then I’m going to take it out in hide from the both of you.”

“Aww, Kat.”

“Tannn...”

“Okay. He can get along okay without our help on the last two but these first two we really are needed. The AIPs are having conniptions.”

“Uh, huh. I’m needed so badly that I’m riding in an event rather than working; and what, pray tell, is an AIP?”

“ Our Agents in Place. As to the event, the reason you’re in the event is because one of the participants is the subject of interest. We can get closer to him if you participate as a competitor.”

I close my eyes and sigh, “Tan. I feel like eating out. Come take me somewhere expensive on Tony’s tab while you tell me more about this event... and these next four jobs.”

~O~

When we arrived back at the hotel after spending an exorbitant amount of Tony’s money, I bring up my notebook and send Sis an e-mail saying we will be delayed and that I’m transferring more funds into the account they use so they at least may continue to eat and pay the bills. I switch to our bank and make the transfer lest I forget.

She sends an e-mail back a few hours later thanking me and saying they had only used two thirds of the previous deposit during our absence, however the property tax bill had arrived. It was for $3,893. I’m about to transfer four thousand more into the account when Tan reminds me the bill for the office building will likely arrive soon since the one for the house has shown up.

“Wonderful. Any idea how much that will be?”

“Not a clue. The taxes are supposed to be going up so it will be more than $178,000.”

“How much?” I ask incredulously.

“$178,000.”

“Why so much? That studio is only about the size of your house.”

“Uh, the bill is for the whole building, Kat.”

“You own the building?”

He gives me an apologetic smile, “and the five story next door to it, plus the parking structure across the street and down a block.”

“When, pray tell, were you planning to tell me about this?”

“I sort of did. I told you I was into property investments.”

“I was thinking houses, farms and land, not business buildings and parking structures.”

“I had to do something with the money Tony pays me. I’ve invested some of the girls money in the properties as well. Pam for instance, since she and you are close friends now, has invested something like a hundred twenty thousand of what she has earned over the past eight years. I don’t know the exact figures since I don’t have the books here. Her investments over those same eight years have earned another sixty thousand. We all lost a bit when the market blew out due to the economy but I used that opportunity to pick up a few properties here and there in several cities. The girls share proportionally in those since I spread all the money across the entire base regardless of source. When the economy rebounds the girls who have been in this program will make out like bandits.”

I’m sitting there staring at him while my mouth would make a good flytrap.

“Tan, what about my money? Has what I’ve contributed been a part of that?”

“Yep.” he answers as if proud about it.

“Do you have any diversification?”

“Sure, I buy all sorts of properties.”

“I mean, do you invest in anything other than property... and the business?” I add quickly.

He gives me a frown, “Like what?”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to put all of your eggs in one basket?”

“Sure, I remember her saying stuff like that when I was growing up. What’s that mean, anyway? I don’t deal in farm produce, that’s too iffy.”

I look at my spouse unable to believe what I’m hearing, “It means, my dear foolish one, that when you invest, it should not all be in one commodity; such as property. You should have diversification. You should also invest in other kinds of things, such as businesses through stock purchases, and not just one kind of business but many and several in each type of production. You should invest in futures as well and maybe precious metals. Sometimes you can make a killing with the right investment. Of course you can also lose out but not so often if you know your market and have good investment strategy.”

“Geez, Kat. You talk like my broker. He’s always after me to put more money into some of those you just mentioned. I don’t know anything about them so I don’t feel safe doing that. I know properties.”

“Tan. I don’t know properties, but I do know the stocks and commodities. Right now the market is rather volatile but we should still look at it as a possible source of income. Yes, right now, even though it is a bit of a risk. Small amounts of money invested carefully could yield great rewards in a very short time.”

“I don’t have the time to stay on top of it, Kat. Properties are nearly an invest and forget proposition. It fits my lifestyle.”

“So... are you investing in this relationship with me so you may forget it?”

“Not like that, Kat,” he protests as he comes over to give me a hug. “I really like having you around and it’s nice to be able to give you hugs and kisses and know there is someone around who cares... Oh, and I like your cookies.” giving me a little boy smile before starting to laugh as he comes over to help me to my feet giving me another long hug and several kisses.

“Tan. Sometimes I wonder about you. Let me start watching the markets and maybe I’ll come up with a few short term recommendations. My last three years of school I did this as a hobby and better than eighty percent of my projected investments would have made money. Overall I would have come out better than sixty percent ahead if I’d had the money to invest. It just takes me a couple of months to get a feel for the markets. Let’s hold onto some of the funds for a bit so I have something to use when I’m ready and we’ll see how it goes, okay?”

“We won’t come up short on it, will we? I’d hate to lose the girl’s money.”

“No guarantees, but with three or four investments we likely won’t do badly. The market has dropped dramatically twice now and I expect that is likely to happen once more before it begins to climb out of the hole. If the smart asses wake up and bring jobs back into the states then we will begin to rebound even more dramatically. Right now the people in charge of everything can only see the short term bottom line. When they begin to look at the long term bottom line then things will begin to improve. If I begin looking at the past three years and track the markets from then to now, then I’ll be able to decide how to invest for when the time comes.

There are several areas I’ve been glancing at which intrigue me. We could use the properties as the more or less stable low yield portion of our investment strategy and place less than ten to fifteen percent into the higher risk strategies. That ten or fifteen could earn us a quarter or more of the overall income, but it isn’t something you can forget. It must be watched every day and in several markets across the world. The clue to get out could come from almost anywhere.”

“Geez, Kat. I don’t know. That sounds awfully risky.”

“Granted, there is more risk but there could be far more profit as well. That’s the reason we don’t invest more than ten or fifteen percent of the overall.”

“Why don’t we just use the money Tony pays us?”

“He isn’t paying us all that much, Tan. After taxes it will drop even lower.”

“That’s the best part, Kat. There’s no taxes on that money.”

“What?”

“There’s no taxes...”

“I heard you. When were you going to tell me about that?”

“I thought you knew.”

“Not a clue. Are you certain that money is tax free?”

“Absolutely. It’s all honest and above board. It’s supposed to be an incentive to acquire and keep the best in this business.”

“That means I shouldn’t have paid taxes on that money last year? I’ve got close to twenty thousand from this year that I could invest right now?”

“I suppose so. You’ve got roughly thirty eight percent of your income which would have gone for Federal taxes. Oh, and that includes all of your income sources. You don’t pay Federal tax. You’re still liable for the state taxes though and they go up a bit when you don’t pay Federal.”

“So could I assume I’ve got twenty percent and possibly as much as thirty percent of my income with which to play? I don’t believe I would want to invest more than fifteen percent though.”

“Yeah, I think that sounds about right. There’s no Federal taxes on my investments and the girl’s don’t need to pay taxes on their investment income until they take it back out of the investment program. A net profit statement is given out along with the money and taxes are pulled at that time but they still wind up in pretty good shape.”

“Could I invest fifteen percent of yours along with mine from these jobs we are about to do? I would need around a hundred or two, thousand that is, to begin. That would also give me the time to track the markets and see where I think it is all going.”

The smile drops from Tanner’s face.

“Uh, how safe is it, Kat?”

“About as safe as your property investments. The difference is I can get out of the market far more quickly and your properties are a much slower process so you stand to lose a much larger percentage than do I.”

He obviously doesn’t want to put his money into what he doesn’t understand.

“Tan. If I lose it then we both are hurting together. We just take a couple of jobs to make it up... After we spend a month at home. We do need to be in touch with all of the girls and see how they’re doing. They will need more jobs lined up for them.”

Now we are back into something he understands.

“I do that from here via computer, Kat. The next potential job you and I have at home is in seven weeks and there’s only one girl who needs a job right now. Not much is coming in so I’ve been farming them out temporarily to cover other photographer’s jobs.”

“Did you ever stop to think that the reason there aren’t that many jobs is because we aren’t there to do the photography?”

“You think so?”

“I know so, dummy.”

“I love when you talk dirty.”

“That does it. I’m rationing your cookies again.”

“Oh not that. Anything but that.”

My husband still is a jokester, however the remainder of the evening spiraled into something best left to the imagination.

After our night of serendipity and wonderful dreams, I awakened in total bliss. My dream last night seemed so real that I didn’t realise it was a dream. No, it was nothing like the one’s I had due to Dear Old Dad. Then again it was almost as bad — the waking I mean. Our love making had continued into my dreams, which was wonderful, however it continued with me becoming pregnant.

Now the feelings I had as a result of knowing absolutely that I was pregnant simply cannot be described. The joy was almost overwhelming.
I don’t believe I’ve ever been so happy. The dream even included a visit to my doctor and confirmation of my ‘condition’. I couldn’t wait to tell Tan so when I awoke this next morning I was bubbling and began to describe my feelings to Tan, who took it quite differently than I thought he would. It took him about ten minutes to get me to realise it was just a dream. I began crying and continued to do so off and on for most of the day and part way into the next. It was difficult to accept that the most marvelous thing I could ever have to share with Tan was only a dream.

to be continued

Adversity, Love, Friends and Family define us.

When we finally returned home from our journeys, Tan seemed strangely preoccupied. Oh, we still slept together and we still... well, you probably know anyway, but he just isn’t himself. After a couple of days of my prodding and poking trying to learn what’s wrong without much success, he finally announced shortly after we were dressed to go in to the studio one morning, that we are going to see his sister... again.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

Of course by now there are all sorts of things going through my head. He’s an axe murderer, not likely since he has been vetted by Tony; he has only months remaining to live, again not likely since both the depression and whatever illness it might be would have sapped his energy. I play all sorts of nervous scenarios through my head but nothing makes any sense. What could it be? Why is he acting so strange? I finally just relax and wait to see if the visit to his sister will shed any light. If not then I’ll bring it up while we are there. Surely she would have some ideas since she grew up with him. At least I think she did. I don’t believe he hatched suddenly fully grown. Then again, what do I know? I’m only nineteen now going on twenty (thousand, it sometimes seems). Whatever we are going to see her about must be serious since he didn’t tell me about the meeting until twenty minutes before we were about to walk out the door to go there.

The officers manning the check points passed us without difficulty. The upstairs location found us both on their list and our ID was correct so the only problem would have been my shoes except I’ve learned to take them off before going through that stupid machine. The one downstairs doesn’t beep at me when I’m wearing them.

We arrived at his sister’s office where we were told to wait for a few minutes before I was ushered inside. Tan stayed out in the outer office.

“So where is that brother of mine?”

“He’s hiding outside in the other office.”

She goes to the door, opens it and in what seems like one of Mom’s commanding voices tells Tan, “Get your sorry ass in here. I’m not going to tell her this alone.”

That gets my mind rolling through unpleasant scenarios again.

“Tell me what, Jennifer? What do I need to know which he seems to be unable to tell me? Is he divorcing me?”

“Divorcing? Not at all. He told me about your dream and we think there is something you need to be told again which you seem not to have understood from before.”

Now I’m completely confused.

“Jennifer. Since we returned from this last trip, he has been very distant. I know something strange is up and I want to know what it is. Why are we here and what do you know about his new found reluctance to talk with me?”

She goes back around her desk as if to put some distance between me and herself. As is normal for her, she is considering what she is about to say before putting it into words which could be misconstrued.

Jen goes into the same gobbledygook we covered when this all first started and I was so certain I was going to end up male. Suffice to say I didn’t understand it any better now than I did then until she and Tan patiently explain to me exactly what it all meant in simple English. I don’t believe I’ll ever experience the joy I had when I thought I was pregnant due to normal boy-girl interaction but it might be a close second. Now I need to see my doctors again to get them to ‘nail down’ exactly what the options mean. Right, who has ever ‘nailed down’ a doctor’s statements?

“Tan, you made me think all kinds of terrible things. I worried about whether you were divorcing me and what was going to happen when all this time all you needed to do was tell me I could really become pregnant? That settles it, no cookies for you for the next month.” I don’t know what made me say that. It was the only thing I could think of at the moment which came close to the same seriousness as that which he put me through these past six days.

He looks chagrined and hangs his head. “I’m sorry,” comes out in a voice considerably smaller than he happens to be.

“You better be. Tan, if you do something like this to me again, I’ll do worse than slap you.” I turn to Jennifer, “Thanks, Sis. I’m going to take this big nut home and force him to make wild passionate love to me to make up for the last week. Thanks for everything.”

I reach up to grab Tan’s ear but he has become used to that little manoeuver of mine and covers them as he stands up.

“Thanks, Sis,” he says to her.

She came out from behind her desk and they embraced, which is something I almost never have seen Tan do with her... or any of ‘his’ girls for that matter, with myself being the only exception which quickly comes to mind.

“I mean it, Sis. I just know I would have messed it up completely.”

“You still aren’t off the hook, Tan. She put your cookies off limits for the next month. Kat, if this big lunk gives you any more problems just haul his sorry ass down here and I’ll straighten him out.”

“Thanks, Jen. I think I need to go talk with the doctors. I’d like to know if I could have an egg implanted and then Tan and I could make whoopie and have a baby.”

They both shake their heads.

“What?”

“Never mind, Kat. Maybe the doctors will have better luck explaining it all.”

Tan and I left his sister’s office with me clinging to his arm. We went home, straight into the bedroom (making certain BOTH locks on the door were locked). We definitely made up for lost time. It took me a couple of years after that to fully accept being not just Kat but being capable of being a woman in most respects if not so far as being capable of becoming pregnant. Oh, I only put his cookies on a temporary hold which lasted less than a week. I felt that was partially justified considering my week of torment prior to the appointment with his sister.

It was close to ten years later when I felt strongly enough about wanting to be a mother that I broached the subject of either adopting or trying to implant an egg so we could begin to have children. Tan went into a funk for a couple of days but managed to work his way out of it again, I love it when we make out... I mean, make up.

Since it turned out I couldn’t have children of my own and for some reason neither could he, or so he swears, we opted to adopt and spent a lot of time trying to decide how to handle it. We don’t want to take just anyone but we also don’t want to limit our opportunities. We haven’t made up our minds and are scheduled for yet another session and possible introduction to still another prospective child next week. To kind of help us as well as the children in finding a good medium ground we registered some months ago to take children as a temporary home until they can be actually placed in a fostering home. That way we have the child or children around only for a few weeks, but it allows us to gain a feel for the patter of little feet around the house.

After two times of that I’m certain I want to be a Mom. Tan... I’m not so sure about him. I’m pretty certain he doesn’t want to be a Mom. A joke, a joke for cripes sake. The idea of having kids around seems to be growing on him but he’s concerned about our disappearing on assignments. I’d take them along if they were ours but he seems to feel, and probably rightly so, that they could be in harm’s way should we do that. Our adoption plans once again go on hold as Tony drags us back into his offices to receive yet another new assignment.

Once again we will be headed into Europe then off to North Africa. It seems someone is making noises over there causing some concern that there is about to be some sort of “grass roots” takeover attempt launched upon a government with which we are presumably on friendly terms. Tan and I must root it out, offer and coordinate assistance in terminating it. Nothing too earth shaking. It does, however, place our private lives on hold once again.

Six weeks later we returned home giving all our footage to Sis so she could complete the movie we contracted to produce. It’s kind of nice, Tony pays us to accomplish certain tasks and the client pays us for a travelog promoting their country for tourism. The money Tony pays us is tax free and the travelog money proves we had a reason for going if anyone was watching; especially a certain wolf I could name who is still wandering about the shadows. He has even more of a score he wants to settle with Tan now that he has been kicked out of the agency. The information we brought back these many years ago somehow began to find it’s way into the public eye and the agency couldn’t handle the potential problems so they divested themselves of the potential embarrassment. That didn’t slow Emerson very much since he had a couple of hundred mil tucked away here and there (mostly there) around the world. I think what irritated him the most was he couldn’t put his face in the US any more. Now he was like a rabid dog trying to find the most opportune moment to bite.

While Tan and I were out doing our thing, we also managed to root out and store information about a number of closeted skeletons from the various factions involved in whichever government or faction we are attempting to aid or dissuade. Gathering information is something we do when in each country to which we are sent. That’s just in case we might need some private assistance at some later date; in other words CYA or I suppose, C Our A’es. It never hurts.

Tan and I have been back about a week when we receive a message from Child welfare. They are asking if we might consider adopting a particularly troublesome pair of young children. Neither of us really feels we are up to such a task. Most of the one’s we have had here on a temporary basis have been so shell shocked that it really hasn’t been too difficult. A pair; a brother and a sister, who have gone from home to home to home might be more than we could manage.

Reluctantly we went down to at least meet them. After talking with two of the agents concerning the case, we knew we must take the children but come up with a plan of action to make it look more spur of the moment. Tan and I reasoned that if the children don’t realise we are there specifically to consider them that it might work out better since they possibly would try to convince us.

The Matron listens to the potential plan and makes a couple of small changes and then we go to implement it. She plays her part well saying, “His name is Robert, but he won’t answer to it. The child just behind him is his sister Elizabeth, but she is just as difficult,” when we see the children. I scowl at the Matron before going to talk with the child who is wearing a dirty blue dress. His short hair not helping him look particularly female but the mannerisms were fairly good. With a little training he could likely become a fairly good she, if that’s what she really wants. The sister has her hair cut shorter, probably by scissors in the hands of her brother. She is wearing a tan suit with a terrible choice of tie but, then again, they probably didn’t have much to choose from.

We continued our charade before allowing them to decide they will let us take the two of them home. Once the children learned they were to be kept together and that they would be accepted by us as that which they are attempting to present to the world, they begin to light up as though someone had flipped a wall switch illuminating a dark room. I don’t know, maybe we had.

During the couple of years Tan and I had discussed adding children into the mix, we did some remodeling and now had more bedrooms and baths, both upstairs and down. Mom and Sis were still here, of course, so they could help with the children duties. Mom was especially glad to have more children in the house even if they were crossing the lines so to speak. I suppose my transition paved the way for that acceptance a bit.

The younger sister had not been influenced by the older brother and she really did want to be a boy. His mannerisms were quite good, better than those of his older sister who also began to improve once we obtained a wig for her to wear so she could go out without feeling terribly self-conscious. Her mannerisms began to immediately improve and in less than a month you would have thought we brought a magpie home rather than a young girl.

When we shopped for the wig we explained to the store clerk at the time that it was to provide a covering while the child’s hair grew back in. The loss of which was the result of a permanent gone particularly bad and which was of particular distress to our daughter who had enjoyed having longer hair. The clerk sympathized.

Two years later our daughter had her own head of hair and was happily contemplating letting it grow down to her waist. She’ll learn soon enough. Meanwhile she’s learning to cook simple things under the tutelage of my Mom, grandmother Phillips, and is generally becoming a help in the kitchen and around the house. Her favorite preparations are cookies and eggs. No, not together; please don’t make that suggestion to her a cookie omelet is not too appealing to me.

Mom was, as I mentioned, like a grandmother to her and our daughter was quite happy to be a part of a three generations family. Aunt Tashia was a favorite as well. School... Well, she loved school, especially recess when she and the other girls could play jacks and other games designed to increase dexterity. She was no slouch in the mental department either and proved it on many occasions, both at school and at home, much to our dismay. As a precaution we finally had a lock placed on the secret door to the basement.

Her brother was just as happy and intelligent. He had trains and boy toys to play with and Tan would take him out to baseball, football, and soccer games. He was in school and just like his sister had skipped a grade after spending two, bored out of his skull. They are considering advancing him one more just as they did with his sister but I’m afraid of how that will affect him in the long run. Being two years younger than your peers can be difficult, three might be the straw that broke the camel’s back. We compromised and when he reaches seventh grade I will allow him to advance directly to eighth if he is still doing well; meanwhile he has reached a level of reading that has him consuming everything he can get his hands on. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, be cautious about providing a complete and unabridged Encyclopedia Britannica for your child to read. OH, and hide all of the medical journals... preferably under lock and key.

About the fifteenth year into our meteoric rise to fame, Tan and I have been offered posts at the farm which after a great deal of soul searching and discussion we decided we will take them up on it. During all this time we managed to continue the photo business and handling the girls but now we will be away from the mainstream too much to be value to them. While some of them have ‘retired’ from modeling, others have appeared to take their place so we still had around fifty we were handling.

We have had several planning sessions with the girls, a few more of whom have decided to retire, so we are in the process of liquidating all of the investment assets for distribution to the girls. They may move them into 401k accounts thus continuing to put off their taxes until retirement. Irina had a small nest egg to which we contributed bringing his ‘net savings’ up to a little over two hundred and ninety thousand, also now rolling over into a 401k account. We also provided him with Tan’s ‘new’ beemer which was in excellent condition despite being four years old. He has a choice of three job offers, just as the girls have had great references and most who are remaining in the business have found new homes. Tan spent plenty of time getting them good deals with their new employers. Everyone seems to be happy.

Oh yes, shortly before we moved back to begin our new roles in the grand scheme of things, we adopted two more special needs children; another ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ for whom we played a similar game before taking them under our wings. Mom and Sis stayed with us during the move. Mom still runs the house. Sis, Tan and I are starting another business together which will pretty much do the same things we did here but at our new location and on a much smaller scale. What? Well, we still need a cover for our occasional field trips and we still have all that nice equipment we collected over the years. Pam went to work for the Agency itself and we still meet up with her once in a while. I would really...

“Mommm, Johnny won’t let me play with the train set.”

It never ends...
~O~
“Hey Kat, you home?”

“DADDY!” The thundering herd collides, Jonathon and Darlene.

“Hi Tan. Kat isn’t back yet. She had a special to teach today. She should be home by seven.”

“Okay. Thanks, Tashia.”

“Hi, Dad.” Richard is more subdued than the younger pair, after all he is nine now.

“Hello, Daddy. Guess what? I got a ninety on my arithmetic test today.”

“Good show, Cynthia. Be sure to tell Mom when she gets home.”

Cynthia turns and returns to her bedroom all smiles over the praise. She and Richard have now been with the family for four years and have settled in well. Jonathon and Darlene are relative newcomers but they are rapidly adjusting to having parents who care, as well as an older brother and sister who understand and help with tips and occasional support after a particularly trying day. Hurtful comments at school are not entirely gone but all four children know they will be protected and loved at home.

Sometimes Uncle Tony drops by the school or the house and that is always a special time. The teachers all seem to know him, but the children haven’t been able to learn why that is. It’s a little like Santa Claus, you just have to believe and accept.

“Well. It’s about time you chose to come home. So where is Kat, already?”

“Tashia told me she was teaching late and would be home around seven.”

“Hmmpt. So no one tells me and I’m the one making supper. Children, go get washed. Supper is ready for the table.” Nora sends the children packing to wash their hands before supper. “Are you going to eat now or wait for Kat?”

I think I’ll wait, if you don’t mind, Nora. Kat would probably like the company.”

“So I’ll keep half of everything warm.” She walks off toward the kitchen, “If it isn’t the one then it’s the other. It’s a wonder that anyone eats on schedule in this house. Jonathan, get away from that table. What did I say about washing your hands? Scoot.”

“Aww, Gramma. They’re clean. I didn’t touch anything dirty.”

“So your toys aren’t dirty? They were on the floor and as much as I vacuum, I still get dirt off it. Go wash; now.”

He rushes off as she reminds him, “and wash your face, too. If everything isn’t clean when you return then I’ll take you out and wash it all for you.”

“Aww, Gramma.” echos back from the bathroom.

She looks back at Tan, “He’s a good boy. He just needs to learn to be a little cleaner than usual when he wants to eat. He could take lessons from his younger sister.”

Tan smiles; at four years of age, Darlene is probably the cleanest of the four children including Cynthia who is now ten years old. It’s hard to believe that the first pair have been with them for four years. The younger pair have been here for three months and very quickly fit right in.

Being a parent isn’t easy but it has its benefits. Kat must have five or six hundred photos of the first pair and she has started at the same pace for the second pair. This Christmas will prove to be interesting. Darlene has been hinting that she would like one of those new walking dolls. Kat looked at them in the store and the doll is easily as tall as Darlene herself. Cynthia wants a doctor’s bag with all the gadgets and stuff that entails. She has her future all mapped out... at least until she happens to discover boys.

Our boys... They are three years apart in age where the girls have six years between them. Footballs, baseballs, toy trains... It isn’t as difficult to buy something to give to the boys for Christmas. Kat basically has made the same comment about the girls since she seems to feel she knows what the girls would like to have and the boys are a mystery to her. We need to compare notes sometime soon. There isn’t that much time left before Christmas, only ten weeks.

The children have finished their supper and the girls helped their grandmother to clean up the dishes then lay out clean ones for when their mother arrives home so Kat and I can eat supper together.

“Nora, aren’t you eating with us?”

“You want I should look like a blimp? I eat as I cook, how else should I know exactly how it will taste? I eat more than enough each day, thank you.”

“But you do all that housework. Doesn’t that use up most of what you eat?’

“For which I am grateful. You pay me to care for the house and watch the children while you and Kat are not home. I have plenty to do to keep me from growing old while I still have a roof over my head and food in my stomach. What else could a grandmother want?”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“You better not. I have only one small request.”

“OH? And what’s that?”

“Four is enough, isn’t it?”

“Four? Ah! I hope so. Four is nice but I don’t think I’m ready for more.”

“Thank the Lord. If they were any younger, I would be so lucky as to keep up with them. Darlene is a budding cook, and I think Cynthia will be a scientist. She says doctor but she is squeamish about blood. When she learns being a doctor is to live with blood then she may change her mind.”

“What about the boys?”

“What about them? They are boys and they want to be policemen one day, spies like their father the next, and then football or baseball heros the next. It will be like this for several more years before they make their first ‘final’ choice.”

“Hi everyone, I’m home.”

“It’s about time, I’ll go dish supper now.”

“Hi, gorgeous. How’d it go?”

Kat looks at the ceiling, “hectic. I swear, Tony better appreciate everything we are doing for him. Where are the chil...”

“MOM!”

“...Never mind.”

“Hi Mom.”

“Momma! Cynthia got a nightie on her aromatic test.”

“Aromatic test?”

“Hi Mom. Guess what?”

“You got a nightie on your aromatic test? Do you mind translating that for me?”

“I got a ninety on my arithmetic test today.”

“Oh, good! That and your spelling test prove you’ve been studying more lately. Just one more and we go get that special something you’ve been wanting.”

“The next test will be murderous, could you help me study the next few days?”

“I’ll try to make time for it, young lady. Have your father help, too...”

Tan gives me a scowl but nods his head to Cynthia.

“He knows a lot about current events. I’ve got to go clean up a bit so I may have my supper. Any other special announcements I should know about other than the Arithmetic test?”

“I got picked for the kickball team, today.”

“Mr. Carson said I could be in the school orchestra if you will sign my permission slip.”

“The school is going to have a field trip in two weeks, can I go?”

“I’m certain if there is a field trip, the school sent something home for me to read and sign, didn’t they?”

“Oh... Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t rush. I’ll be fifteen minutes or so, then you can come into the dining room and give it to me to read while I’m eating supper with your father.”

“Okay, Mom.”

to be continued

It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

I was sitting here waiting for our next client to arrive on the first Saturday I’ve had available in nearly a month while I looked at the few pages of my diary which Tan recently filled in. I need to find a better place to hide and secure it. I don’t mind him writing in it but sometimes I put stuff in it that I would rather keep secret for a while.

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

On the home front, our oldest daughter, Cynthia, has just finished seventh grade and the school system is making noises about advancing her another grade or possibly even two when she returns to school next year. Seventh to tenth in one step. I don’t know if that’s a good idea, she has already jumped two during grade school and has started making noises about wanting to test her way through most of high school when she gets there.

There’s a lot more to school than just the grades. It’s the place where a child begins to learn social interaction. I’ve looked at what has happened to other children who have advanced so quickly, ending up in college three or more years before their peers. They do fine academically, but their social skills are almost non-existent.

Our youngest son, Jonathon, seemed to be following in similar footsteps since he had already advanced one grade while the school system wanted to do two and I wouldn’t allow it. Once again they were saying he was seriously under challenged and were trying to move him up another grade. I suppose I’ll allow it this time since both the other children are in the same boat. How could we be so lucky as to have four children who are rushing through school almost as quickly as they drink a glass of milk? Speaking of milk, I think I better check Nora’s list of things we need for the pantry and the fridge.

If they were our children genetically then there might be something on which to base their achievements, not that Tan nor I are all that superior in our mental abilities but it would provide a common basis which would help make sense out of it all. Surely home training can’t count for that much. I also doubt we could have come out with four genius level children just from the luck of the draw, so to speak. By the way, Cynthia recognised her difficulty with seeing blood and revised her decision about being a medical doctor. She is now looking at palenotology and archaeology as possibles, after seeing The Mummy for about the hundredth time. Of course boys are beginning to look at her in school, but so far she isn’t looking back. I’m beginning to wonder if we are going to have a female Indiana Jones on our hands soon. Or possibly a Lara Croft. I don’t believe I’ll mention that as she might watch the programs and then begin to follow Angelina Jolie’s movies and decide to become an agent. I don’t need grey hair before it turns grey naturally, and I intend to continue colouring it for as long as possible. If I stay away from the lighter colours it won’t turn blue, will it?

Richard and Darlene are both doing well in school, they are each advanced a year. I’m beginning to doubt my own memories and start wondering if this is their first time or their second? God, I guess that means I’m getting old? I can’t even remember if all my children have advanced more than one extra grade in school? Apparently they are educated well beyond their peers. It has to be something Tan is doing during their home schooling since I only advanced one extra grade during all my time in school. Of course I had a lot of additional distractions and missed a lot of school days as a result.

The school board has spent no little time looking at our family recently since all four of our children will now have jumped extra school grades. It became more or less expected that our second two would likely do the same after both of the older children did so. For some reason this worries me more than going into foreign countries with Tan in order to gather intelligence.

Speaking of intelligence, Tan and I will be off on another assignment again soon. This time will be for six weeks. Both Jonathon and Richard have declared their interest in becoming spies. They are consuming every 007 movie as well as any others they are able to get their hands on. I haven’t the heart to tell them it really isn’t like that. I’m hoping they will move on to something else in a few years.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Tan, a penny will hardly get you anywhere. My thoughts must be worth at least a dollar.”

“Okay, a dollar for your thoughts. Somehow that doesn’t sound quite the same.”

“I’m thinking about the children. The school system wants to move them all up an extra grade when they go back to school next year. Academically, they are probably capable of handling it. I’m concerned about their social skills.”

“This is something new for Jonathon and Darlene, isn’t it?”

“I think they have done it once. Sometimes I have trouble remembering who has advanced how many. I’m not so worried about them if this is only the first time. The others already have a couple of skips under their belts and the board is talking about moving Cynthia up two more grades. That would jump her from just finishing seventh to beginning tenth in one step and four years early. That can’t be good.”

“Hmm. I see what you mean. What if we only allow one skip every other year?”

“That was a bit more along the lines I was thinking as well. That would, I hope, allow her to adjust a little more between steps. She’s interested in testing through high school and I’m concerned about allowing her to do that.”

“What about allowing her to take ninth, skip the next year to eleventh and then test through twelfth? That would give her two more years before she moves on to college.”

“That will still place her into college four years early. I hate to hold her down but...”

“Yeah. What if we allow her to do it though? We could stipulate that we will watch not only her college grades but her ability to interact with the other freshmen. Not that we want to hold her back but we are concerned about how she will be able to interface with other young adults as she rushes into that big bad world out there.”

“I was thinking about something along those lines as well. I’m concerned, Tan, that she may try to test through some of her college classes and thus cut her college years short as well. I’m worried that she may go after and procure her doctorate as much as five years early. I just don’t know how others will take to having a twenty to twenty two year old with an advanced degree or two in charge of a project when they themselves are in their late twenties. They either won’t take her seriously or they will attempt to undermine her authority. Again, it would be her abilities at social interaction which will be of great importance to her.”

“Why don’t we just sit down and discuss this with her? We could let her know just what we are concerned about. She could take a couple of extra years in college to gain social skills while studying and procuring advanced degrees in peripheral courses. That would give her the ability to interact as well as improve her background education.”

I nod my head in agreement. “Let’s talk with her this evening. We need to help her plan out her approach to her future and discussing this with her like she’s a responsible adult now will likely predispose her to coming to us with future problems when she wants to work out solutions. We need to let her make the decision but we can point out all the possible problems and benefits. Sounds good to me, Tan.”

“Okay. Now that we’ve solved the world’s problems do you think we can get ready for the next client?”

I tag him lightly on his arm as he moves away then I go check the material Tashia finished editing last night. We have Forty Seven minutes twenty eight seconds of material in five approximately equal segments. That allows for Twelve minutes and thirty two seconds of other material to be inserted by either the client or the Television station to make up an hour segment. The five clips are contiguous allowing them to be presented without interruption if so desired. If the client signs off on this edit job then all we need to do is download this finished project to a XHD disk plus give them a second disk with all the original unedited material and our job is done.

It isn’t until the next night that Tan and I have time to discuss what we intend to do for a cover for our up and coming fiasco. He suggested we might offer ourselves up as blatant spies. That worked for us once before when we were doing so many things spies do in the movies as though we were tourists trying to pretend we were spies. In fact, when we finally were ready to return home, the people who had been watching us even offered to take us and our stuff to the airport. There they advised us that tourists trying to pretend they were spies might seem very melodramatic and exciting but it could get us into some really bad situations if we were up against people who didn’t know what spies were really like.

“The two of you would never be convincing spies. The next time you go on a vacation, perhaps you could pretend to be concert musicians or some such thing.”

Tan and I looked at each other and developed big smiles then looked back at our erstwhile surveillance agents who both shook their heads and just said, “No. No. Bad idea. Maybe you could just be tourists who are pretending to be tourists.”

Tanner asked them, “How about a crown prince and princess who are pretending to be American tourists?”

“No, that won’t work. Your accents are not good enough to be Americans.”

“Oh. How about...”

“Stop! They are calling for your boarding. Please have pleasant flight.”

We shake their hands and insist they take some money for helping us with our things. We left them standing there with about forty dollars worth of currency, knowing that now they would need to write up a contact report explaining why we gave them the money.

One of them was barely heard to say something like, “crazy tourists, trying to pretend they are American spies.”

“It could have been fun but their accents gave them away.”

“At least we had an easy assignment for a few weeks.”

Tan and I didn’t breath easy until we were in the London office and dispatching our information back to the states.

“You two did what? How did you get them to help you take your luggage to the airport?”

“Their car was a bit like the cabs so we pretended we thought they were one of the unmarked cabs. Kat was keeping them busy in conversation while I was loading their trunk with the luggage. By the time I had nearly finished, Kat was sitting in the back seat and the two nursemaids were so frustrated trying to explain they weren’t a taxi that they finally gave up and drove us to the airport then helped us unload our luggage and made certain we made it onto the correct plane.”

“And you gave each of them a tip?”

“Yeah. I hope they have to fill out contact reports the same as we do.”

“You two are just plain nuts. You know that don’t you?”

“It worked didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I doubt anyone else could have pulled it off. Go on; your stuff will be gone with the next transmission and you two can get some shut-eye before you fly back to the States.”

“Thanks. Anything else or can we just make tracks in the morning for the airport?”

“Just report there. Your tickets will be waiting.”

“Okay. Say hi to Tony for us.”

“He isn’t going to believe it either.”

“Nah... He knows us. He’ll believe it.”

“Get outta here you two.”

The next morning we were at the airport and had made it through the security checkpoint. We had forty minutes before our flight and a plane was just pulling up to an adjacent terminal ramp so they could disembark passengers. Our plane was at our ramp but apparently they were waiting on a flight crew before boarding.

Tan and I had spent a portion of our night enjoying ourselves and Tan was sipping on a vendor’s coffee while we waited. I had nothing to do but watch people so I was whiling away the time doing just that. I caught a glimpse of someone I thought I knew but they faded away before I could get a good look.

“Tan?”

He swallowed his sip of coffee, “Yeah?”

“I thought I saw someone. Off in that direction. Don’t go anywhere but kind of take a stretch and look around as you stand there.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“Oh, yes. If my imagination isn’t playing tricks with me. Someone we know and would love to put down.”

He gets up and gives a casual check around us before sitting down again.

“Two possibly three out there. I don’t see the one you mentioned. Want me to take a closer look?”

“No. I think we better not split up.”

“I wonder what would bring him out of the woodwork?”

“Two guesses if he’s as vindictive as you have led me to believe. Are you armed?”

“Not since the security check point.”

“You can bet they will be.”

“Probably.”

“If it becomes necessary, I have two opportunities built into my purse and there is one in the brown mascara tube in my cosmetic case. Pull off the end, twist the bottom and then aim the open hole at the target up to twenty feet away.”

“I think it would be better not to bring our toys to the party. That could be what they’re waiting for so they may have us arrested and taken out of public view.”

“Boarding’s in ten or so.”

“Looks like they are going to board now. Flight crew’s going aboard. Lets make our way together to one of the pay phones over there. We can let the office know before we board.”

“Good idea, Tan.”

We get up together with Tan carrying my cosmetic case and go over to the bank of phones. Two minutes later we are talking with the office and pass the information on before advising them of our boarding call. Five minutes later we are on the plane and waiting for the push-back. Five minutes after that everyone is being herded off the plane and as soon as the flight crew is out the plane is towed away from the terminal and out to the middle of nowhere or as close to it as they can get at a busy airport.

We hit the phones again and let the office know of this new development.

It was another ten minutes before there were six men from our London office in the terminal along with a dozen of their British counterparts. It was a good six hours before our luggage had made it off the plane and back into our possession. We wound up being driven to a military airbase and once there we were put onto a smaller aircraft to be flown back to the US. None of the people we had seen in the public terminal were interdicted so it was a non-productive little bit of antagonism apparently designed to annoy us rather than do anything else. Just something to let us know that he was still watching and biding his time before he crawled back out of the woodwork at some other time in the future.

We arrived in the States six and a half hours later and a hour after that we were back at the farm. We went through a couple of hours of non-productive discussion concerning the bomb threat which had been phoned in with regard to our flight; the first we heard of it.

Apparently Emerson’s tentacles still stretched out across the intelligence community. He seemed to have little difficulty learning things he wanted to know about people whom he disliked. We watched like hawks for a few months and never let up in our protection of the children but Emerson wouldn’t surface in our swimming pool for another four years. I couldn’t help but liken him to a piranha. All mouth, all bite.

We were sitting at Richard’s graduation, Cynthia had graduated last year and gone on to University. We pulled some strings so there were a couple of people keeping an eye on her for us since we were still highly protective concerning our children. Cynthia had finished her first year of University but she was only fifteen and as we predicted, she intended to test through a number of subjects. Our concerns about her social capabilities turned out to be less than founded for she not only was climbing the academic ladder quickly, she also was socially gregarious and was cultivating a large number of friends. Her more than adequate vocabulary also helped.

Richard intended to pretty much do the same thing except his choice of University was a couple of States West of us rather than North. We were becoming a little concerned for our children who were or would be hundreds of miles away from us. At least we still had three and four years before Jonathon and Darlene joined them. Tan and I were both concerned about Richard as we hadn’t found anyone to keep an eye on him for us. That can drive a parent a little batty. I probably wouldn’t have worried so much if our two academians weren’t so young. They might have University grade educations but they were both four years younger than their “peers”, and working hard at widening that gap.

During the next year, things remained relatively calm; if you can call having two teenagers at University — calm. More like subdued panic. There was no sign of Emerson or any of his ilk but that didn’t mean much. He had a nasty habit of remaining invisible up to the moment he struck. His ego required him to be “in the neighborhood” so to speak whenever something he planned came down.

We had a couple of reports of possible sightings up near the University Cynthia was attending and rushed to check that out. We had no indications from Richard but he wasn’t paying all that much attention so it was a week before we were able to obtain a photo which proved it was an older Emerson who was seen up near Cynthia. A copy of the photo was sent to Richard with predictable results. Four days later one of his buddies saw it and mentioned seeing someone who looked like it hanging around a week or two earlier.

We began to watch Jonathon and Darlene a bit closer once we knew he was watching our children. This made it more difficult to watch our two younger children so we entrusted that to Tony’s care since they were schooling right in his ‘backyard’ so to speak.

I went to be with Darlene and Tan took it upon himself to watch over Jonathon, hopefully without him knowing about it since he would have seen it as interference rather than assistance. All those years and he never got beyond the spy movies. He still thinks that’s how things happen in the spy craft world despite anything Tan or I have told him. Bad guys really aren’t vindictive are they? No, not much they aren’t, sometimes even the ‘good’ guys. Anyway, Tan is trying to watch over Jonathon without staying close. Good Luck.

Several weeks go by and nothing more surfaces. We can’t continue to babysit so we return home to nurse our worries.

Tan and I discuss our options again and again. I’m for going hunting, after all with a little assistance from Tony we could find that snake on his home ground and take care of the problem once and for all. After all, to kill a cobra you just need a good mongoose.

Things mellowed out again for a little over a year before we again had some sort of potential contact. This time Tan and I were heavily involved with our courses and preparing a group for their not so insignificant tasks they would be expected to achieve in yet one more foreign land. The President had made it known to his immediate circles who made it known to those under them and so on until we wound up trying to prepare those who were expected to achieve the impossible with little or no resources and all without anyone being the wiser.

About three weeks into the fiasco, Tony sent for us and dispatched us into the fray. We were over there for about a month before we got word that Emerson had made a move but it had been thwarted. They thought it best to tell us and bring us home rather than to wait as long as possible trusting to luck we didn’t find out through other channels, which we did.

Fortunately for Tony there was only a twenty minute difference so we knew he had tried to let us know before we found out through our own sources. During our return trip, Emerson struck at us.

It happened in London. I spotted Emerson and managed to dodge his more than inadequate assistants quickly enough, Tan didn’t.

Two months later he was out of the hospital and I accompanied him back home but he was very much a different person than he had been. An induced heart attack has a way of doing things like that.

We made it home and the children all came to stay with us at semester break. Tan wasn’t moving around much any more. He didn’t have the energy nor did he have the endurance since whatever Emerson’s people managed to get into him had a long term effect. I spent most of my days working or acting as nursemaid to Tanner.

Mom was great but she was getting up there in years and many of the friends she had gathered were either beginning to move away or drift. She finally decided to take her money and retire to Florida where a number of her friends were living. Sis meanwhile had taken the business and was making a name for herself in the industry. We kept in touch, nearly every day, but it wasn’t the same as when we were all working together.

Eventually I spent most of my time worrying about the children and taking care of Tan. His sister would drop by as often as she could but she was up for some appointment to some judgeship with increased responsibility, I didn’t understand all of it but she seemed to be enthusiastic over the opportunity.

About two years in, I went shopping and when I came home Tan was gone. There was a photo of us laying on the bed next to him. A photo neither of us took or had taken. In the distant background you could see Emerson. He just couldn’t let it go. Even with Tan an invalid, Emerson had to push it.

I made the funeral arrangements after all the normal legal hoopla and once it was all over I paid Tony’s successor a visit. He, at my insistence, somewhat reluctantly set the wheels in motion, providing me with the information I wanted about two weeks later. I went to visit each of the children spending a day with each of them before I took the information and disappeared.

Six months later I returned to watch over my babies until they were all through University and taking care of themselves, my work done and most of the threats removed. The smaller threats were too afraid to try anything but I wasn’t about to forget about them. I just had more important things to take care of at the moment. They would wait until I was good and ready to make them pay as well.

to be continued

“As we continue down this hallway we find the four cases containing Mother's and Father’s awards in both cinematography and in Eventing.”

 © 2010 by Lilith Langtree & Rénae Dáºmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the work’s Owner (copyright holder), with the exception of the private and non-commercial viewing by the reader who is also the end purchaser. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. Any and all images which may be shown within this work are taken through license under Corel with the exception of the title image which is Photo Credit to Irina Sheik. No affiliations, involvement or gender assignations through the use of these or any images of the subject or subjects contained within those posted images is to be implied, intended or inferred.
An Aldoennetti & Langtree Original.

The gentleman accompanying the young lady carefully examined some of the awards through the protective glass which covered them as the young lady continued:

“Although Mother never received first place in Eventing, she did frequently end up in second or third place. Most of this she attributed to her horses.

The fourth case also contains the DVD collection of the travelogs and the coverage of whichever special event they were requested to produce as they worked together all around the globe. The still photography has also been collected and is on the two hundred CDs which are also in the same case. Essentially they were so successful as spies that the countries on which they were spying paid them to produce the programs while they also were paid by Western intelligence agencies for their work.

Mother was twenty eight when they finally decided to begin a family, having had over ten years as successful spies at that time. They continued for another fifteen years even once they had us all under their wings.”

“So that is when you and your brother came into the picture?”

“Essentially. We were in an orphanage when Mother and Father came in looking for a child they could begin to raise. At that time I was six and my brother five. I still remember the first time my Mother and I saw each other. I was sitting half in the shadows in a dirty blue dress which the staff could not pry off of me. My brother was wearing a small tan suit complete with jacket and a ridiculous tie.

The matron was taking them around and when Mother stopped to take a look at me the matron tried to get her to move on. No one ever tells Mother what to do. She asked me for my name but when I began to reply, the matron loudly told her ‘His name is Robert, but he won’t answer to it. The child just behind him is , Elizabeth but she is just as difficult.’

Mother gave the matron a glare which could have melted steel before she turned back to me once again asking gently, ‘What is your name, child?’

I drew myself up in as defiant a little pile of cloth, tears and hope as a six year old could be and answered, ‘My name is Cynthia, ma’am.’

I knew we had found our new parents when Mother turned to the matron and said, ‘If Cynthia will have us as her parents then we would like to have her as our daughter.’

Just as I was about to argue with her and say that I wouldn’t leave my brother, she moved to him and asked for his name.

He very shyly answered, ‘Richard — oh — ma’am.’ As I prompted him.

Mother again turned to the matron and said ‘we will take him also.’

She never blinked, never stuttered. To her I was the girl and Richard was the boy. Our Father and our Mother treated us that way the rest of their lives.

Five years later they brought home our younger sister and brother.

We were raised as we needed to be, Father and Mother provided us with the love we badly needed, which others had not.”

“Not exactly the story I expected, but still not what I can print without some careful editing.”

“Then I suppose you must print that which everyone else has printed.”

“I was hoping for something different.”

“Our mother and father were loving parents. Neither of them could have children and we, my brother, myself and our two younger siblings were very fortunate to have had them as our parents. You must remember that at the time when we were adopted, there still remained a great social stigma concerning children who had deformities such as ours. No one wanted, nor cared about us. We were too controversial. Mother and Father were probably amoung the first who saw it as an opportunity rather than a detriment. We could not have had a more loving home.”

“Then why did your father kill himself?”

“It is rather difficult to kill oneself by shooting yourself in the back and then twice in the back of the head to be certain you accomplished the task, isn’t it? Especially when you have been partially incapacitated by a heart attack years before. I mean, father was an exceptional spy, as was mother, but even he had certain limits being only human.”

“Are you saying the coroner’s report was wrong?”

“No. Just modified to fit certain needs. The family has photos which were taken by the coroner during the autopsy showing the wounds. We have never disputed the claims since it would have damaged both our National and our International Relations at the time.”

“And now it won’t?”

“Now it no longer matters.”

“Then the six months that everyone reported your mother had gone into seclusion...”

“She went hunting.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“She went after his killers.”

“Oh, she did that all right. He was her first and only love. Killing him was like taking a stick and prodding a mother bear after beating her cub.”

“She found the one responsible.”

“All of them.”

“All?”

“There were six. The actual killer, the two traitors in our own government and the two from the other governments.”

“You said six. That’s only five.”

“Did I? I suppose I could have misspoken.”

“You could have, but I doubt you did. The last one wasn’t in government was he?”

“Let’s just say there was one individual who never could let go of something he wanted even when he could never have it.”

A light dawns and the reporter adds quietly, “So that yacht explosion was not a fueling accident.”

“Do you know how difficult it is for a diesel powered yacht to blow up due to a fueling accident? And to do so quite so completely that the largest piece remaining is smaller than the size of a baseball? Out at sea no less.”

“So cover ups are still happening.”

“It would seem so.”

“But your mother came back.”

“She had to. She had two teenage children to finish raising and two very young adults to guide through University.”

The reporter nods, “And it would seem she did an excellent job of it.”

“She did her best.”

“How long did she live after...”

“After father died? She died almost immediately. Her body lived for another ten years so she could care for us and make us into the successes we are.”

“So she finally gave up?”

“Yes and no. Mother still lives with us. Part of the year she spends here with me and part of the year with my brother in Paris. She always liked Paris.”

“But I thought you said her body gave up?”

“I did.”

“So how could she still live?”

“Her mind has never given up. She is one of the first human- computer transplants. She should be calling me soon. It’s almost four and she always calls at four. Ever since father died she has been quite punctual. They tried to kill her last year you know.”

“Really? That would seem to be so easy to accomplish. Just unplug her computer.”

Cynthia’s laughter chimes through the sitting room, “If she were in just one computer, I suppose. Mother has ever been quite practical. She is in the computers of the three governments which were involved in killing her husband. She is also in a number of secluded backups so she will go on. It’s a bit ironic isn’t it?”

“How’s that?”

“They attempted to eliminate her, so she eliminated them.”

“She killed those who would have killed her.”

“Oh, nothing so mundane. She eliminated the governments themselves and thus the jobs of those who tried. Now she controls those countries and she sees to it that those who plotted against her and who killed her husband receive just enough assistance to live, but not comfortably, and not in any capacity to accomplish anything except brood over their fate. She has not yet completed her vengeance. Besides, she has too many children out there now to just give up. A little thing like physical death isn’t going to stop her from helping those she cares about.

After all... She was born ‘male’, so to speak, at a time when intersexed and transgendered children like many others were considered to be either a plague or an affront to God. She went through years of hell right here on Earth as she became a woman, and a very good one I might add. Once she embraced being a woman, she married her love and raised a family as she set out to right the wrongs others had placed upon her. She did so in a way that not only righted those wrongs that she had encountered but which others were also encountering...”

“She became an outspoken advocate for all the transgendered.”

“Oh yes. And much more. She forced changes. By the time she and father had finished their years as spies, they knew where all the skeletons were buried in most of the countries of the world and had proof. Killing father was the biggest mistake those in power ever made.”

“So her vengeance is complete?”

“Almost.”

“Almost? Who else is left?”

“Not who... What. The one biggest affront to God the world has ever known...”

~O~

~Finis ~

Poster’s Note:

In reading this story and noting the number of chapters as well as the rapid movement in time during the final chapters; it would be my guess that Teddi had intended to ‘flesh out’ the last four or five chapters a bit more which would have slowed the pace a little as well as bringing the number of chapters up to what appears to be her usual count of between thirty four and thirty eight. Judging from the date on the final chapter prior to the epilog I would guess that her continuation of the work was interrupted.

Rénae Dáºmas