Part 1 - After having a life changing experience, it's hard to go back to the way things were.

It was January 1983. New York was still it's usual high paced self and it was still cold. But after the Christmas I just had life seemed to lose some of its pizzazz. At night I would lay in my bed, clutch my Cabbage Patch doll close to my chest and think back of that wonderful day that was Christmas. I could still remember how happy I was and how natural I felt in the maroon party dress; it was a day like no other, and perhaps that was the problem. Sure, the morning after Christmas when I woke up I was still in those wonderful panties that had the Disney Princesses on them and a long shirt served as a make shift nightgown, but things eventually returned back to normal. I was once again Keith, a boy doing his best to fit in the role the life gave him.

Part of me hoped that I could make a reappearance as Katie for New Years Eve, but my aunt had to work the next day and my aunt and I wound up watching the ball drop on television because she had work the next morning. It was okay, I mean, I love spending time with my aunt, and I did my best to hide my disappointment.

School started back up shortly after the new year and everything fell back into the same old routine. Everything was the same, except for me, who suddenly couldn't put my heart into the facade I carefully displayed my whole life. I just did my best to make it through each day with as little strife as possible, secretly waiting for night time to come around so as I drifted off to sleep I could relive the one moment in time where everything was real and everything was perfect.

Time kept steadily marching on, but things were about to change without me even knowing. It all started around the seventeenth a few days before my eight birthday. Though most children would be looking forward to another round of receiving presents, i was impartial to the day ever coming around.

It was the seventeenth, as I said, and it was a Monday. I was laying in bed sleeping, my white cat, Mirage, was curled up between my legs and sleeping while resting on the crook of my knee.

"Keith," my Aunt Roe said softly as she shook my shoulder, "time to get up and get ready for school."

I was obedient in waking up, as I always was. I found out long ago it was pointless to start the day with a fight, but being woken up was a new procedure for me. It use to be that once the clock hit 6 A.M. I was up and ready to go. Usually I would watch cartoons for an hour while eating a bowl of cereal before I would even have to start to get dressed. I suppose GI Joe didn't have the same draw as it use to and those extra moments of sleep gave hope to the chance that I would dream about Christmas and being Katie once more.

I kicked my covers downs, no longer keeping to my past routine of slinking out of bed so I would leave the covers undisturbed and forego the chore of having to make it. I sat up in bed and looked at my aunt expectantly, though I couldn't fathom why.

"Good morning," my Aunt said as she sat down on the bed next to me.

"Good morning, Aunt Roe," I mumbled in reply as I arched my back in a stretch.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay," my Aunt asked as she placed her hand on my forehead to gauge my temperature.

"I'm fine," I said, not pulling a way as I use to do. I just allowed her to show this act of kindness and concern without protest.

"Are you sure?" My aunt pressed, almost like she was trying to elicit a response or a whine out of mine.

"Yeah," I said noncommittally. "I feel okay."

"Maybe we should keep you home from school, just to be sure," my Aunt offered.

"That's okay," I said. "I don't need to miss school and I really need to get my spelling words for the week and stuff."

"If you're sure," my Aunt said, the worry was evident in her voice.

"I'm sure." I gave a weak smile as I rested my head against her arm.

"Okay then, I have your clothes laid out for you on your toy chest," my Aunt said as she stood up. "You got about a half an hour before the bus gets here so don't dilly dally."

"I won't," I said as I watched my Aunt walk out the room.

I stood up and took to making my bed. I know my Aunt didn't ask me to, but it was the right thing to do. My cat never strayed from his spot on the bed, he just looked up at me as if to ask if I was done yet. I tucked the blanket under the mattress, gave my cat a few scratches behind his ear and took a deep breath. Another day as Keith was about to get underway.

I took off my pajamas and placed them on my desk. When I was dressed I would take them to the bathroom and place them in a hamper. That was a new habit I had gotten into, Forgoing my usual clumping them in a ball and tossing them into a corner for my aunt to take care of later. I slid down my white boy underwear and placed them with the rest of my night clothes. Standing naked in my room, I glanced down at my body, at the inch of flesh that ever since Christmas was the bane of my existence.

"If it weren't for you," I whispered at my penis, "life would be perfect."

I shook my head, knowing that it was pointless to argue with my anatomy. No matter how often I told it I wanted it gone, my penis had no choice but to stay where it was. I didn't know why I was concerned with that particular part of me anyway, after all when I was Katie it wasn't like it went anywhere. But I also knew that it was what was keeping me from being Katie all the time and I was forming a strong dislike for the dangling piece of flesh between my legs.

I really didn't have time to loathe my anatomy properly, I had to get ready for school. I slid on a pair of fresh white underwear, noticing how imperfect they really were. They didn't have that softness that the girl's panties I had wore did. They didn't fit as snug against my body and give me the same sense of security. And they most certainly didn't have any style; they were just plain white unders with two blue stripes around the elastic band. Though the elastic clung close to my waist, the crotch felt baggy and loose, making me wonder how much I lacked in that particular area compared to other boys. But, then again, was I really lacking as a boy, or did I have too much excess as a girl.

I shook my head, knowing that now was not the time to contemplate such things. I quickly put on my blue jeans and long sleeved shirt. It amazed me at how Spartan boy clothes were, they were meant to be worn, not enjoyed and certainly not to look at. They were just so plain and that caused me to frown as I put on my socks and sneakers for the day.

I gave my cat one last goodbye pet along his back, grabbed my book bag and joined my aunt in the kitchen where a hot pop-tart was waiting for me.

"You know what this Saturday is," my aunt said in an excited voice.

Even though I was glum from the male clothes that I once again found myself trapped in, I couldn't help but smile. "Yes," I said as a swallowed a nibble of Pop-Tart. "I'm going to be eight."

"That's right," my aunt said, pleased to see my mood lighten. "Do you want anything special?"

"Banana cake," I replied. Banana cake is regular cake but with a banana cream filling with slices of fresh banana in two of the layers, not to be confused with banana-nut bread. It was my favorite flavored cake.

"That goes without saying," Aunt Roe replied. "You haven't left any hints around at what gift you want."

I was torn, there really wasn't any item that I wanted and I know my Aunt couldn't make me go back in time to have Christmas all over again. "Some video games would be nice," I said by default. "Maybe Ms. Pacman."

My aunt smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

Ms. Pacman really wasn't a hint that I wanted to be Katie once again, it just so happened to be the most popular video game of the year and was everywhere. Though I could tell my aunt pretty much damn near everything, I couldn't bring myself to ask for the one thing I really wanted. Somewhere along the line, me being a girl was a subject that was not to be broached and I didn't understand why.

"The bus will be here soon," My Aunt told me after I drank my last sip of milk.

"Okay," I said as I stood up, put on my heavy blue winter coat and slipped my book bag over my shoulder. I leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Be good."

"I'll try," I said and then gave a sly grin. Those always seemed to be our last words whenever I went to school. I left the apartment and waited in the small foyer just inside the apartment to keep me from the cold.

Within five minutes the bus came, punctual as always. I opened up the door and was greeted by the cold New York Winter air. I shuffled quickly to the bus and climbed aboard. I was one of the first kids picked up so the bus was virtually empty.

Prior to Christmas I use to make my way all the way into the back of the bus so I could get the last seat. That was the seat that bounced you around the most and also you were the furthest away from the bus driver and matron and could get away with more and sometimes even get away with telling dirty jokes. But I quit doing that ever since school started back up, it just didn't seem fun anymore and felt like I was doing something wrong. Instead, I sat on the seat opposite the matron and just behind the driver so I could stare out the window as the world past me by.

No one talked to me on the trip to school and that was fine with me. I could hear the noise from the back, the loud cackling that I was once drawn too no longer held any appeal. It was like even though I no longer dressed like Katie, I was no longer the Keith I use to be. I frowned as I looked out the window, feeling trapped between two worlds and wondered if I even belonged in either of them.

It only took forty minutes for the bus to make its rounds and drop us off at school. Once there we, the children, were immediately deposited into the school yard where we would be free to do whatever we wanted until the whistles blew and we had to get in our respective lines for our classes.

PS 71 was a large four floor red brick building that was probably a converted factory. The only item of distinction was the enormous circular chimney that extended from the top on looked almost like a nuclear silo. The only other thing that always struck me as odd, was it didn't have a name. Not Ridgewood Elementary or George Washington Elementary school, it was just Public School 71, it was a number and I was just one of the products this education factor turned out.

Even in the dead of winter, with the blistering cold, the yard was alive with noise and activity. Kids were yelling and laughing and running around, letting off the last bit of energy before they had to sit still for the next three hours have information crammed into their brains whether they liked it or not.

I use to be one of the masses that would run and holler and be a general goofball with the rest of the minions, but even that didn't seem fun anymore. Instead, I found a small cubby hole where some of the girls gathered around to keep safe from both the cold and from annoying boys that wanted to tease them.

"What are you doing here, Keith," Mary, a girl from my class said in a high pitched scold.

"Nothing," I said in a voice a little bit louder than a whisper. "I just don't want to freeze." That really wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the total truth either. One of the benefits of staying where I was outside of not freezing was hearing what the girls had to say. There conversations were always interesting and had a depth to them that I didn't find when talking to boys. Though I never participated in the conversations, it gave me a strange sense of belonging just being in the vicinity.

"Shouldn't you be playing with the other cavemen," Mary continued her questioning and I noticed other girls were becoming interested in the exchange.

I really didn't want to be the center of attention and was getting kind of annoyed that Mary wouldn't just let me be. "It's too cold and I don't feel like it," I said as I took a step back towards the wall.

"You know what I think," Mary said as she took a step forward. "I think you're a spy and you listen to everything we say and then tell all your friends so they can make fun of us. That's what I think."

I could see the other girls grow suspicious of me.

"Ever since we came back from break all you do is hang around us," Mary continued her accusations. "But you never say anything and you do your best to not be noticed, just like a spy does."

"I'm not a spy," I said in almost a plea.

"You sure act like one," Mary said firmly. "We should just kick you out of here and make you go with your own kind. We don't want boy spies around us, Keith."

I was almost in tears. I no longer had my own kind and I felt so alone and unwanted.

"Leave him alone, Mary," Jessica, another girl from my class came to my defense. "He's not hurting anyone.:

"Sure he's not," Mary said snidely. "I just wouldn't tell any secrets around the spy. Not unless you want the whole school to know."

With those words Mary and a group of girls made their way to the other end of the little nook where we all were and Jessica and I were left alone.

"Some people," Jessica said in exasperation. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I said as I ran my coat sleeve across my nose.

"Don't mind Mary, she don't trust anyone," Jessica said as she moved closer to me, as if she didn't want to be overheard. "I don't mind you hanging out with us."

"You don't?" I asked in surprise.

"Nah, there's something different about you then the other boys, I kind of like that. You're the only boy I know that's not an idiot."

I let out a light laugh and smiled.

"That's better," Jessica said. "So did you get into a fight with one of the guys?"

"No," I said in surprise of the question. "If I did they would probably beat me up."

Jessica looked me over and was once again reminded of my diminutive size. "Probably," she said and then laughed. "Is one of them teasing you?"

"Not really," I replied.

"Okay," Jessica said as she was evidently trying to think of some other line of questioning. "Then why are you hanging around with us girls? Boys don't ever do that."

"I don't know," I said quietly. "Its just that it doesn't seem fun anymore hanging with the guys. All they do is get loud and talk about dumb things and I guess I'm bored.'

Jessica gave a strained smile. "If you say so. Hey, if you need a friend, I wouldn't mind being one for you."

I smiled. "I would like that," I said with a glow. "I would like that a lot."

"Good, we're friends." Jessica gave me a quick hug.

The way she said that we're friends made me know that she meant something more than the friend's I had in the past. This wasn't going to be just an acquaintance that I happen to spend a lot of time with, there was a commitment there, at least on her part.

"There's something different about you, Keith Leonard, and I hope one day you tell me what it is, because I like it.'

I was so tempted to tell her about Christmas and about me being Katie and that I wanted to live as a girl more. My mind worked at just how I could tell her and not seem like a sideshow freak. As I was formulating my response, the whistles blew and it was time to line up for class. Since I was so short I was near the front of the boys' line and Jessica was near the back of the girls and the chance to let out my secret slipped away.

We marched haphazardly through the school hallways being led by the teacher as if we were some motley weekend soldiers being led away to a POW camp. Noise was kept to a minimum and so were our spirits as another Monday in the New York City public school system was about to begin.

I entered the classroom and made my way to the large coat closet with just about everyone else. The boys were all shoving and cramming into the small area as if each certain hook that they hung their winter garments on gave them a reward. Though I use to participate in the anarchy before Christmas, I no longer saw the point and simply waited the mini-melee out. When the boys filed out, I simply waited my turn and hung up my thick winter coat on whatever hook was available.

The whole episode of coat hanging only took a mere three minutes, and though it wasn't the most efficient way of going about things, I suppose it went quick enough for Mrs. Round not to change the procedure. I shook my head at it, but what was I to do, I was only a kid.

I made my way to my desk, second row, third seat back. I was actually proud of my desk, for the first time in my schooling history it was actually tidy and didn't look like the aftermath of a nuclear bomb test site. I placed my book bag over the back of the chair and settled into the plastic seat.

In the mornings, we didn't need to be told what to do, it had already been well established. I reached behind me and pulled my black and white composition notebook out of my bag and placed it on my desk. I took out a sharpened pencil from my desk and copied what was on the black board.

"Today is January 17th, 1983," I copied from the board. In the past I would get involved in the unspoken competition with the other boys as to who could finish copying the daily writing assignment quickest, but I suppose I realized that wasn't the purpose of the work that we were given. Instead, I concentrated on making me cursive writing as neat as possible. I discovered that if I didn't hold the pencil so tightly, that I actually wrote neater.

Mrs. Round was making her way up and down the rows to check on our progress. She stopped briefly at my desk. "Very nice, Keith," she said in almost a whisper. "I'm glad to see you applying yourself."

I smiled in response and continued on with my work.

"Kiss up," Brett Reynolds said from behind me as soon as the teacher was out of earshot.

I just shrugged it off. I mean, what was I suppose to do, respond and say no I'm not. That would've just gotten me in trouble. Besides, Brett was twice as tall as me and there was a rumor going around that he even shaved every morning. I certainly didn't need that kind of opposition in my life.

The rest of the morning fell into the familiar pattern of every other Monday morning we had all year. We did some math work, as we tried to figure out our multiplication tables. For some reason math came easy to me and I didn't struggle with it as much as other kids in my class. Then we did some social studies where we continued learning about the great city of New York and memorized the five boroughs. And just before lunch we got our spelling words for the week.

The buzzer came over the intercom to signal that it was time for lunch. A frenzy of activity began to happen as all the boys made a mad dash back to the coat closet. It was the daily practice at my school that after you ate your meal you could go outside for almost half an hour. I stayed in my seat for a moment and just watched the lunacy. It wasn't like the person who got his coat first was going to leave the room any quicker than the person who got his coat last and I wondered how I ever use to participate in such madness. After an appropriate time passed, I made my way to the back and though I wasn't the very last person to get my coat, I certainly wasn't in any hurry.

I took my place in line, where I belonged and like good little inmates, we all marched towards the lunch room.

Lunch was quite different for me as well since I had returned from Christmas break. I wasn't so concerned about finishing as quick as possible so I could spend a few more seconds outside in the freezing cold. I'm not saying the food was of any better quality, but today we were served hotdogs and that was a hard meal to mess up.

Though I didn't want to, I took my seat at the boys side of the long table. Part of me contemplated sitting with Jessica and the other girls, but I knew that would mean instant teasing and I didn't feel I needed that much grief in my life. Besides, even though Jessica probably wouldn't mind me sitting with her, I was sure Mary would make a comment and I didn't know what the other girls would think. I was torn between to worlds; the world I so much wanted to be a part of and the world in which life had thrust me into by the sole reason that I had a penis.

It didn't matter, I just took my seat and started preparing my lunch. The hotdog was already on the bun and I added mustard from a little package and then loaded up some baked beans on top of it. Though it wasn't the neatest way to eat the meal, I followed what every other boy was doing so I didn't look like a total outcast.

I sat eating my lunch as the other boys talked about what they always talked about during lunch; stupid things. Today's topic was the A-team and which character they represented. Everyone wanted to be Hannibal Smith, the leader and was making fun of others saying they were more like Murdoch. I decided to forego any participation in the discussion because the show had lost it's appeal to me. Guns and fights and car chases use to appeal to me, but I knew I was different now. Actually, I wasn't different, but instead of conforming to what the world told me I should be, I was finally being true to myself and figured I didn't need to be bored for an hour so I could get into silly discussions on what fictitious character I was.

Though the conversation around me dragged on and on, and I could see that it went in a circle that would never end, i was able to finish my meal in a reasonable time. I knew I had some time to catch some fresh air and maybe get a chance to talk to Jessica some more before we had to go back to class and finish the day.

I zipped up my coat and made my way to the side exit that would lead into the yard. The sun was shining brightly but it was still bitterly cold. A bunch of boys were running around playing a spirited game of freeze tag, which was amazingly appropriate for the weather. i didn't want to get sweaty in this cold, neither did I feel like getting slapped hard, which was one of the new aspects of the game, so I decided to head to where the girls were hiding.

As I walked across the small yard i did my best to stay unnoticed. I certainly didn't want to be invited to play a game in which I didn't want to join, but if I were asked I would be compelled to conform to what was expected of me.

"Mr. Leonard," I heard a voice call out over me.

I stopped and turned around to see Mr. Mayo just a few feet away. "Yes, sir."

"Where do you think you are going?" he asked sternly.

"Just over there," I said as I motioned to the girls with my head.

"And why would you be going over there, hmm," he continued.

"So I could talk to Jessica," I said as plainly as I could.

"I think the girls would prefer it if you left them alone," Mr. Mayo said bluntly.

"But I..."

"But nothing, leave the girls alone and stop pestering them or you'll be at the punishment table for the next week."

The punishment table was an area set up at the front of the lunchroom that got their meal last and was forced to spend lunch break writing sentences over and over for what they did wrong. "But I was just," I tried to come up with some explanation.

"This is your last warning," Mr. Mayo said strongly, "go hang out with the boys where you belong."

I let out a deep sigh. "Okay." I gave in. not wanting my lunchtimes ruined for a week. I took a look over to the area where the girls were, the area where I wanted to be and noticed that Mary was watching me and Mr. Mayo with piqued interest. As soon as she saw me looking she stuck her tongue out at me and then turned away.

"Get moving," Mr. Mayo commanded.

With head down and shoulders slumped, I turned the opposite direction of where I originally intended to be and made my way to the other side of the yard. Though I wasn't allowed to hang around the girls, I was in no means going to participate in a game that I didn't want to play. Instead, I walked to the far end of the yard and sat down against the fence post. I did my best not to cry, I knew that would lead me to be teased relentlessly, but I couldn't keep from pouting.

Luckily no one noticed me, or if they did, they didn't care. I just sat in the corner of the yard and kept to myself, feeling very much alone in the world. I wondered if this was how E.T. felt when he was forgotten on Earth. It dawned on me how much my thinking had changed ever since my Christmas day as Katie. Then again, maybe it hadn't changed, I always cared about how others felt, but whenever those thoughts would pop up, I would weigh it against how I thought the world wanted me to respond and chased those thoughts of caring away to the outer reaches of my mind.

"What are you doing way over here?" A familiar voice asked even though I wasn't paying close enough attention to see Jessica approach me.

"Nothing," I said sourly, trying my best not to whine or sound pouty.

"Can I do nothing with you?" Jessica asked as she sat down next to me.

"Sure," I replied, but I was starting to get curious as to why Jessica suddenly was taking so much interest in me.

"So," Jessica said in an elongated manner and let the word just hang in the air like a little cartoon balloon that had nowhere else to go.

I looked up at Jessica. I don't suppose I had a reason, but I certainly didn't want to seem rude at the same time. "Have you ever imagined that your life was a movie and you were just as actress playing a role?"

Jessica giggled. "Sometimes, when I'm home, in front of the mirror, I pretend that I'm singing in one of those new music videos, does that count?"

I smiled. "I sometimes think my whole life is a movie and I'm an actress playing the role of Keith."

"You mean actor," Jessica corrected me. "Only girls are actresses."

I didn't realize that I had let the wrong word slip out, but I think I used the one I really intended. I didn't bother telling Jessica that, who knows what would've happened. "Sometimes I wish I could get another part."

Jessica put her arm around me and let me lean my head on her shoulder. "I think you should just be you and leave the movies for the Ridgewood Theatre."

"I'll try to be me," I said and then gave a sly grin.

Before we could go any further into our conversation, the whistles started to blow and it was time to line up so we could get back to class. It just goes to show that as a third grader, you didn't get much say in what you did,

We marched back to our classroom and repeated the same procedure as we did when we arrived in the morning. In the afternoons we worked on science, which was mostly just reading out of text books and answering questions at the back of the chapter. Then we ended the day practicing our cursive writing, which, unlike what Brett Reynolds had told us, did not consist of writing dirty words.

It was nearing three o'clock and Mrs. Round let us grab our coats a little early so we could leave as soon as the finally buzzer sounded. All 30 eyes of the students watched the clock silently as it ticked away the final minute, and, as usual, the second hand paused briefly at the 59th second.

Finally the buzzer sounded. The other boys acted like there was a million dollars on the other side of the door as they leapt from their desk and power walked as quick as possible to the door. As they jockeyed for position, I calmly stood up and gathered my book bag. I wasn't in too big of a hurry to simply get to my bus.

"Keith," Mrs. Round said as I walked up the row.

"Yes, Mrs. Round," I said as I paused at her desk.

"I want you to give this letter to your aunt," she said as she handed me a plain white envelope. "I want to see her tomorrow to discuss certain things."

My eyes grew wide open and I fought the urge to simply break down and cry. "But I didn't do nothing wrong," I pleaded.

"I didn't say you did anything wrong," Mrs. Round said. "I just need to speak to your aunt, that's all. Okay?"

"Okay," I replied forlornly as I carefully placed the envelope in the front zipper compartment of my book bag.

"Make sure she gets that letter," Mrs. Round reiterated as I made my way to the door with my head down.

"I will," I said solemnly and then left the classroom.

I walked down the busy hallway of the elementary school, but really wasn't paying attention to those around me. I was too busy wondering what it was that I could've done wrong. I handed in all of my homework, I wasn't even close to getting into any fights, and I don't think I talked back once since I returned from school from winter break. Maybe that sneaky Mary made up lies about me, I thought. It was bad enough that I couldn't hang out in the little cubby hole with the girls at lunch, maybe she was trying to get me suspended all together.

I found my way to the bus and sat in my accustomed seat up front. Being sent home with a note was never good and I didn't even know what I was in trouble for to come up with a good excuse as to why it happened.

I looked up at the sky, I wondered if maybe my life was really a movie and I wasn't pretending. "Cut!" I pictured an imaginary director saying. But no matter how much I wanted it, I was still cast in the role of Keith. Not a glamorous role for an actress, that was for sure.

---

Author's note: I am hoping to post on this story every three days until completion .

Part 2 -Calm before calamity

After searching for the key to the apartment for a third time, I finally found it under my math workbook. Even though it had a clip to go on my belt-loop I never did keep it there, for some reason it bothered me. As I slid the key into the door I thought of how handy it would be to have a purse. I don't mean one of those big purses that contained every item a woman ever owned, but like a small clutch purse that would be big enough to hold my keys and the little bit of money I found myself with and maybe even a brush. It was amazing how often I now thought of girl things and girl accessories, I was becoming consumed by it. The experience of being Katie, no, I corrected myself. The experience of being my true self had left a mark on me that wouldn't go away.

I slid the key into the tumbler and made my way down the hall that led to my apartment. It was just three o'clock and my aunt wouldn't be home until almost five.

I walked into the apartment and put my book bag on the chair in the kitchen where it belonged. The first thing I did was take out that blasted note and put it on the kitchen table where my aunt would see it. I knew the consequences would be dire if I threw the note away or hid it and if I was going to be in trouble, I didn't want to compound it further.

"What did I do wrong," I whined as I looked up to heaven. "I handed in all my homework, my test scores have been better, I haven't gotten into any fights or talked back to the teacher; not even once. Mrs. Round couldn't have known about Mr. Mayo keeping me from going by the girls, and even if she did, I did what I was told to do. I wonder if that Mary made up a lie about me. Maybe she told Mrs. Round that I hit her or stole something."

The worst part of the situation was the not knowing what my teacher wanted to see my Aunt about. Lucky for me, my all-white cat, Mirage, realized I was home and was brushing up against my leg. It was a welcome distraction to pick up my kitty and hold him in my arms. He purred and nuzzled against my neck as I scratched his ear.

I walked into the living room, to the place where all the Christmas magic began. The tree was taken down a few weeks ago and all the holiday decorations were packed away in our bin in the basement, not to be seen for another eleven months. Part of me wondered if maybe I had imagined such a wonderful time; that maybe Christmas day was so dreamlike because it was really a dream. I still had my ColecoVision, it was hooked up to the television, but I was all Donkey Konged out. That and every time I played, I wanted the option to be the captured princess instead of Mario.

I sat on the couch, still holding my cat, but letting him lay on my chest where he seemed comfortable. I would've turned on the TV but my interest in Tom and Jerry wasn't as great as it once was and though some of the soaps were interesting, I couldn't keep up with the constant changing story lines.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number to Wyckoff Heights Hospital. It was one of the three numbers I had memorized and each one would always connect me to the same person; my Aunt.

"Wyckoff Heights Hospital," the voice said on the other end, and I immediately recognized it as my Aunt's friend Alan.

"Can I speak to Aunt Roe please," I said as politely as I could.

"A call for Aunt Roe," I heard Alan say mockingly in the background. They always seemed to get a kick out of when I called. It only took a few seconds until a second line picked up.

"Hello, you," my Aunt said jovially.

"Hi Aunt Roe," I said back, but unable to match the enthusiasm knowing about the note on the kitchen table. "I'm back from school."

"Did you have a good day?" My aunt always asked me that question.

"It was okay, a lot of learning," I answered.

"That's good, that's what school is for," my Aunt pointed out the obvious. "So, any plans for the day until I get home.'

"It's a little cold, so I think I'll just stay in and do my homework."

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" My aunt asked.

"Aunt Roe," I whined. "I feel fine."

I heard my Aunt laugh. "Just checking. I'm stopping at the store and should be home a little later than usual. Want any thing special?"

A dress and some nice shoes, my mind yelled at me to say. "Not really," I answered, figuring if I asked for something special and wound up being in trouble then things would go twice as badly.

"Okay, see you when I get home."

"Bye," I said and then hung up the phone. I peeked at the clock and saw that I would have two hours to myself.

I walked over to the closet and slid it open. In the far corner was the Maroon dress that I wore on Christmas, the only evidence that the day had happened. I ran my fingers over the silky material and closed my eyes. The fabric felt so smooth, so cool, so wonderful between my thumb and forefinger, the feeling was almost heavenly and I knew it felt better when I was wearing it that Christmas day.

"I wish I may, I wish I might," I recited out loud. "That Christmas never ended and I could be Little Katie forever."

I had half a mind to put the dress on, but knew that I would need help with the zipper and without the other accessories, I would've felt incomplete.

I slowly closed the closet door, hiding the dress from view in the vain hopes that the phrase 'out of sight, out of mind' was actually true.

"Oh, what the hell," I said to myself out loud. "You're alone, you got two hours, by yourself for Pete sake."

I tried to let go of that nagging part of my conscience that told me to act like a boy and give into my natural tendencies. It wasn't easy at all, I had been listening to that voice for almost eight years and was use to obeying it. But I didn't care anymore, it was either be myself for the few hours before my aunt got home or find some rope to make a noose out of.

I skipped off to my bedroom, feeling almost giddy. It felt strangely comforting as I bounced through the apartment, my long hair tickling my neck and shoulders. For once I was glad that my aunt didn't have me get a haircut, even though she may have mentioned it a week ago.

In my room I pulled off my slacks and folded them onto the bed. The shirt that I wore to school was long enough to come down to my thighs and even though it was a far cry from a dress, I would make due. Though I should've taken them off first, I removed my bulky high top tennis shoes and put the neatly under the bed.

The outfit I now wore, a long shirt, boy underwear, and crew length socks, was a far cry of being feminine, but it was at least an improvement over what I did have on. I wished I had something girlish that wasn't fancy like the dress in the closet. Lately at school I had been making note as to what girls' my age were wearing; pretty jumpers and denim dresses were my particular favorites and I would do anything to have some of those options available to me now.

Instead of concentrate on the things that I couldn't change, I decided to make due with what I had. Part of me figured it wasn't the outward trappings of being a girl that mattered anyway, but how I felt on the inside. During winter many girls wore jeans and sweaters and that didn't make them any less female than what I felt my true self was. With that resolve I felt that annoying little voice that tried to tell me that I needed to act like a man fade, and I felt my true self emerge.

"Come on, Katie," I said to myself out loud. I could already hear how soft and sweet my voice became and I wasn't even trying. "Let's do our homework while we still have our smart girl brain intact."

I giggled at how silly my comment was as I made my way back to the kitchen.

I sat down at the kitchen table and took out my three items of homework and prepared to start. All I had to do was write my spelling words five times each, do a math work sheet, and finish a reading comprehension exercise. Even with concentrating on being as neat as I could with my penmanship and checking my math answers twice, homework only took me forty five minutes, giving me plenty of time for myself.

There really was only one thing that I wanted to do, it was something that I was doing often when no one was around. I walked to the living room and pulled out the giant JC Penny's catalogue. In the past I would look at just the toys and the electronics and dream of having every little gadget one could imagine, but now I went to two new places. I had been going to girls fashion so often lately that the big book practically opened up to the pages that contained dresses automatically.

"Oh Katie," I said to myself wistfully. "If this was a perfect world, half of these would already belong to you."

Though I enjoyed looking at the fancy dresses, with all the frilly lace, bows and panty hose; I also enjoyed going through the everyday wear as well. I knew that if I was outwardly the girl I was on the inside that I wouldn't be dressing up like a princess every day. The thing was, even the ordinary, every day girl things gave me a sense of yearning. Even looking at the undergarments was met with a sense of awe and wanting.

I closed my eyes and imagined myself in a plain white camisole and matching panties with a little bit of lace trim along the openings for my legs. In my minds eyes I pictured my body exactly how it was now, except the panties wouldn't have the unsightly bulge that my diminutive penis would create. As an eight year old, I didn't know what exact curves and crevices a girls body made while wearing tight panties and a firm camisole; in that I was completely naive. I know I heard other boys at school say where boys have a stick, girls have a hole, but I really didn't no the technicalities of such so I just pictured my body as being completely flat, having absolutely nothing between my legs and having no development in my chest. It didn't matter anyway, the vision made me happy.

As I stared at a picture of a girl in a leotard, I imagined it was me and inside my head I swayed back and forth and twirled. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if you could take dance," I said to myself, even though I didn't know of a place that taught dance lessons.

I smiled as I flipped back and forth between the pages of fashions meant for girls my age, picking out various items that I wish I had owned. I guess I did the same thing when I was in boy mode, except when I viewed the book as Keith I was picking out tape recorders and video game systems. As Katie I was picking out dresses and tights, and I found the process even more enjoyable. I envisioned how each choice would look on me, and how it would feel to be wearing such lovely items.

I let out a sigh, even just imaging such things made me feel a warmth radiating out from my belly.

I then turned to the next section which was my new favorite. It was actually a particular page that had a picture of a cute boy my age that was dressed up in a suit. He had short blonde hair that was combed back and the bluest eyes imaginable and I had named him John.

"Hello, John," I said to the picture as I blushed and turned away.

"I'm doing wonderful," I continued my pretend conversation. "Thank you for asking."

"Oh, I'm not the prettiest girl in the whole world," I said trying to sound humble.

I giggled as I imagined the picture of the boy saying that I was a close second.

"What? You want a kiss? Well I guess so," I said, trying to play coy to my imaginary boyfriend.

I leaned in and gave the picture a peck on the lips. I could still remember the kiss I had gotten from Henry on Christmas day and how totally wonderful that made me feel. Of course, not even being eight yet, my kisses were no where near passionate. It was just all sweet, innocent pretend, but I found myself longing for it be reality more and more.

I decided to put the catalogue away before I ruined it and someone guessed what I was up to when they weren't around. I didn't think I could offer up any decent explanations on why I would kiss any picture, none the less that of a boy.

Knowing that time was running out, I decided to put on a pair of pajama bottoms, there was no chance that I would be going outside anymore that day and with my Aunt already going to the store, I knew she wouldn't be asking me to go to Cherry Valley, the grocery store on the corner.

All I could do was bide my time. I turned on the stereo and listened to Z100 at a moderate volume. I actually was enjoying myself as I sang along to Endless Love and Playing With the Queen of Hearts. I knew I didn't have the best voice in the world, but I was by myself and sang for the pure joy of it.

After a few songs I heard the door to the apartment open and turned off the stereo. I made my way quickly to the kitchen to see my aunt holding a few bags. She looked tired, like the day was as long for her as it was for me.

"Hi Aunt Roe," I said as cheerfully as I could.

"Hi Keith." My aunt smiled at me as she handed me a bag that contained lettuce and tomatoes. "How was your day?"

I walked over to the refrigerator. "It was okay, I guess. You know, just school and all. Nothing really happened. How about you?" Asking my aunt about her day was actually a new thing for me that I picked up after I was Katie for Christmas. I suppose I realized that life wasn't all about me and genuinely caring about others made me feel good.

"It was alright, I suppose. It was a little busy in the morning from things backing up over the weekend, but not that bad."

"I guess busy can be good, this way your not bored," I said as I put the vegetables in the crisper.

My aunt smiled.

"Um, Aunt Roe," I said, fumbling with my words but knowing I had something I needed to tell my aunt no matter how much I didn't want to.

"Yes, Keith." My aunt stopped putting boxes in the cabinets and turned towards me.

"Mrs. Round, she, um, she kind of sent a note home with me."

My aunt shook her head and let out a slow, even breath. "Is there anything you want to tell me before I read the note."

"Um, I love you," I said at a loss of what to say.

My aunt laughed. "Okay, let me see the note."

I grabbed the note from off the kitchen table and brought it to my aunt. Part of me wished I would've just thrown it away and just hoped the teacher would've just forgot about the planned meeting.

My aunt carefully opened the letter and pulled it out from the envelope. "Last change," she said while looking at me. "Are you sure there's nothing that you want to tell me? You know, it's much better that I hear it from you."

"I know, but I didn't do nothing," I said defensively.

"Okay," my aunt said in an overly elongated fashion, as if to give me some time to change my mind. She took an extra few seconds to unfold the paper and then read the note from the teacher.

I stood there watching my aunt, trying to see if I saw any displeasure or anger in her face. My aunt's expression didn't betray any emotion as she folded the note and placed it neatly back in the envelope.

"What did it say?" I finally asked impatiently.

"Mrs. Round would like to see me first thing in the morning to address some concerns that she has about you," my Aunt said simply. "Is there anything going on at school that I need to know about?"

I immediately thought about the episode at lunch time when Mr. Mayo told me to not hang around the girls, but I was almost positive that the issue wasn't that and decided not to divulge that information. "I thought I was doing real good at school since we got back from Christmas," I said in a downcast voice. "I even got a 95 on my last spelling test and a hundred on my math test."

My aunt walked over to me and put her arm around me. "It's okay Keith, the note didn't say anything about you being in trouble, so maybe it's nothing bad."

"A note from the teacher is never good, any kid can tell you that."

My aunt gave me an extra tight squeeze. "No matter what, it will be okay and I will always love you. Okay?"

I gave a strained smile. "Okay."

"Now, do you want to help me prepare dinner or do you want to play video games?"

In the past, the answer would've been obvious that I would want to play video games, but for the past few weeks I had been consistently choosing helping out in the kitchen and felt I finally wasn't getting in the way. "What are we making?"

My aunt smiled. "Chicken cutlets."

"Yummy," I said with the love of life returning to my voice. "My favorite."

"I know."

It was always dangerous to tell my aunt something was your favorite. As an almost eight year old kid I hadn't quite yet caught on to the perils of uttering such a statement. My aunt had this slight quirk about her that when she heard you enjoyed a meal, she made it. I don't mean she made it once in a while, or once a week; no, she made it every day until it was no longer your favorite and you began to hate it. I should've known better because when I was four I innocently said I loved bologna and cheese and by the time I was helping my aunt in the kitchen, just the sight of the lunch meat made me queasy.

My aunt tied a little pink and white apron around me that came down to my knee. The apron was originally my cousin Jennifer's but it somehow made it over to my house and now I got to use it. I didn't tell my aunt how much I loved wearing the little smock; it was so cute. Not only did it protect me from spills in the kitchen, but the front side made it look like I was wearing a dress and it was the closest thing I came to wearing something I wanted since Christmas.

"Chef Keith," my aunt said as if the pending meeting with my teacher was the furthest thing from her mind. "Please grab two eggs from the fridge."

I was obedient in what my aunt asked me and she placed a bowl on the kitchen table for me. I felt so grown up when she let me crack the egg on the side of the bowl and emptied out the yoke. My aunt made sure no pieces of shell made it into the wash and this time I was completely successful in doing the task perfectly.

"You're getting good at this," my aunt praised.

My smile couldn't get any bigger. "I have a good teacher."

My aunt shook my long hair with her hand. She then poured some 4C breadcrumbs into a dish and opened up a package of chicken. "Okay, just like I showed you last time."

I pulled a piece of chicken from the package. It was so slimy that I only held it with my thumb and forefinger. I gently placed the chicken into the egg wash and flipped it over so that it was sufficiently covered and even ickier than before. Next I put the chicken on the bread crumbs and coated the entire chicken cutlet before placing the finished product on a separate plate. I repeated the process five more times and was done. My aunt then mixed the remaining bread crumbs with egg wash and made two breadcrumb balls, probably not the most healthy thing to eat, but very tasty.

My Aunt fried the chicken cutlets, I was still a bit too young and short to be using the stove and she preferred staying on the safe side of things, probably from seeing so many accidents working at the hospital. I stood on a step stool and washed my hands of the breadcrumb mixture as I watched her cook at a safe distance. I loved hearing the pop and sizzle of the grease and smelling the aroma of fresh cooking fill our apartment. It only took a few minutes before everything was cooked and my aunt and I enjoyed a meal together.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. My aunt and I were not real social butterflies and spent most nights watching television, occasionally making a comment about what we were looking at. It was Monday, so we got to watch 'TV's Bloopers and practical jokes,' which made us laugh as we watched our favorite actors flub lines.

After the end of the show it was time for me to go to bed. Since I was already in my pajama bottoms, all I had to do was add the top and then climb into bed. Though I wasn't consciously thinking about tomorrows pending parent-teacher meeting while watching television, as I tried to drift off to sleep that was all that was on my mind.

"Just what did I do?" I asked myself as I lost consciousness.

---

Author's note: Still doing a lot more setup work then in the proceeding story, but I am hoping this adds to the development rather than detracts. This whole piece of work is hinging on one scene I have in my mind that moves the story back aboard the S.S. fluffy.

Part 3 -The Parent/Teacher Meeting

---

I don't remember having any bad dreams, but I knew I had a restless night. My poor white cat, Mirage, was sitting on my wooden toy box near the window eying me accusingly. My cat not being in his usual spot wasn't my only clue that the night went horribly; my blanket and sheet were in shambles and my pillow was on top of my desk clear across the room.

I rolled out of bed still feeling groggy which was not the norm for me when I was seven. Usually I would have so much energy that I could bounce of the walls if I wanted, though I never did let my impulsiveness get the best of me. The first thing I knew to do was to make my bed presentable. With an upcoming meeting with my teacher I thought it prudent I earn as many brownie points that I could. With the twin sized bed being in such disarray, it took me twice as long to make it than usual.

I could hear my aunt getting ready in her bedroom and thought it a little strange that she didn't wake me up a little earlier or come in to say Good Morning to me once she heard that I was up. For a moment I figured she was mad at me and that made me regret going to school even more. "What did I do wrong?" I asked myself for the thousandth time and still I couldn't think of an answer. It seemed like ever since the day after Christmas, life was doing just enough to make sure I wasn't happy.

The way I wasn't happy was new to me. It wasn't like I was sad, or needing to cry. I wasn't hurt in any way, that included physically and emotionally. No one was picking on me or calling me names; in fact I was barely interacting with anyone for them to have the chance. I wasn't sick and I didn't have bruises anywhere, so I wasn't sad because of that. I felt like I was just floating through life and if I could just get through another day I felt I could make it to the day after. For a brief moment in time, that was Christmas day, I discovered who I really was, and I missed me. That's how I was feeling, I discovered. I wasn't sad, I was lonely. I was lonely for me.

I sighed, knowing there wasn't anything that I could do about being Katie again. Part of me wondered if I had already let too much time pass by to even broach the subject ever again. Maybe having one totally perfect day was all a person ever had in life and I had nothing to look forward to.

I sat on the edge of the bed and started to take my pajamas off. I wished I could've just worn a long shirt as a nightgown and simply left off the bottoms, but as each night passed away that I didn't ask my aunt to do just that, it seemed more and more difficult to bring it up. I folded the shirt and pajama pants as neatly as possible and lay them on the bed. I slid my white underwear with the two blue stripes off as well. For a second I looked at my penis, it was still there and that added another area of disappointment for the day.

I shook my head as I put on a fresh pair of underwear. It wasn't that I disliked my penis, I was actually very impartial to it. I really didn't know what a girl had there instead outside of some grossly misinformed rumors from other boys. I also didn't know how other boys looked between there legs either and the only reason I knew that I was lacking in size was that my aunt had addressed some concern and even had Uncle Paul see it one time when I was in the tub for an assessment. The reason I didn't like my penis currently ,however. wasn't that it existed; but that it kept me from being my real self and kept me from wearing the type of clothes that I wanted to.

"I see you're up," my Aunt said from the doorway, but I couldn't decipher her mood. Perhaps she had just as bad a night like I had.

"Yes," I said lethargically. "See, I made my bed."

My Aunt gave a strained smile. "I see that. Good boy. Did any thoughts come to you as to why the teacher might want to see me? Remember, it's better that I hear it from you first than from her."

"Really Aunt Roe, I have no clue," I said impatiently. "And I really wish I did."

"I was thinking last night," my aunt said tenderly as she saw my frustration. "Maybe your teacher doesn't want to see me because you did anything bad. Maybe she wants to talk about your school work, or a club they want you to join or a thousand other things that aren't bad."

"She could've said so in the letter she sent home," I said bitterly as I pouted.

"I know." My aunt put her arm around me and pulled me on top of her lap. "But if you had done something really bad, I think I would've gotten a call. Maybe even a call from the principal. So let's not allow this meeting to ruin our morning."

"I'll try," I said and then tried to smile.

"Good boy. I'll let you finish getting dressed and then you can have some nice hot oatmeal."

My aunt walked out of the room to let me be. My clothes were neatly folded on my desk and ready for me to put on. Jeans and a thick sweatshirt once again.

"Good boy," kept ringing in my ears.

I rolled my eyes as I unfolded the coarse denim jeans.

"Good boy." Two words that went together that I no longer wanted to hear when someone was referring to me.

I slid the jeans up my smooth slim legs and over my hips. I buttoned the heavy brass Levis 501 button and pulled up the zipper. It felt like I was locking myself into my own "have to be a man" prison.

"Good boy." Two words that may have signified that me being Little Katie at Christmas was a one time event and now that it was over all I would have left was the memories and a few pictures once they were developed.

I slid on the heavy grey sweatshirt that had a blue Penn State logo on it. Though I knew it wasn't the material's fault, I suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. I put on my crew length socks and tennis shoes and was ready to be "Keith for the world" for one more day.

Breakfast was a silent affair. I ate my maple and brown sugar oatmeal and my aunt sipped at her coffee. It wasn't too unusual for us to sit at the table in the morning and not say anything to one another, but today there seemed to be a certain tension about it. We were both wondering the same thing though: what in the world could Mrs. Round possible want to talk to my Aunt about.

I wasn't in too big a rush to finish breakfast, but I could only eat so slowly. After I swallowed my final bite, my aunt took my bowl and washed it in the sink. She then looked at the clock, saw that enough time had gone by and then called for a cab.

"I already called the bus company to tell them not to come by," my aunt informed even though I hadn't asked. "We can ride in together."

Twenty minutes later we were in the back seat of a Four-Ones Lincoln town car and heading off to my school. It was kind of nice not to have to listen to all the ruckus other kids made during the ride into school, though I rather it had been under different circumstances.

Though the school wasn't that far away, the ride seemed longer than it really should've taken. My Aunt and I sat in silence, after she had told the driver where we were going not a word was spoken by anyone. Part of me had a sneaky suspicion that the driver knew I was in trouble and that's why he didn't say anything because car service drivers were notorious for making small talk. As I stared out the window, I racked my brain to come up with anything I may have done wrong.

The cab ride certainly was ominous, but we eventually arrived at the red brick school. After my aunt paid the driver we walked together up the concrete stairs that led to the main entrance. A few kids from class that were there early peered through the fence and gawked at me and my aunt, making me feel more uneasy than previously.

As was procedure, my Aunt signed herself in and we then walked the empty halls of the school. There was a certain eeriness about the dark green walls and black and white tiled floors as we through corridors that were completely silent and empty. Without other children to avoid or fill the air with their cackling, the school could've been featured in any one of a dozen horror flicks.

My class was on the third floor, which didn't make my aunt too happy that she had to climb stairs. Though I was young and slender, my aunt was a great deal heavy and out of shape. There was a certain debate amongst the students that each floor contained each grade. So by the time you got to the sixth grade you would be on the sixth floor, which was technically the roof but that escaped our seven year old minds. I knew this for sure, if I got in trouble and my aunt had to climb six flights of stairs I assumed I would get a months punishment just to make up for the energy she would have to exert.

I led my aunt to my classroom. Part of me was thinking that maybe I could get us conveniently lost and I could be spared whatever trouble I was in. I gave up that idea, I knew that would only compound the situation and my teacher would wind up meeting with my aunt sooner or later.

We finally made it to room 321 and as I turned to go through the door I noticed that Mrs. Round unfortunately didn't forget about the meeting, nor did she have car trouble that prevented her from making it in today. Unlike other boys in my class, I would never wish for her to catch the flu or to get run over by a bus; that just seemed a tad mean to me.

"Ah, Mrs. Leonard," my teacher addressed my aunt. "Please come in." It was a pet peeve of mine when people addressed my aunt with my last name because it only served to remind me that I was different than other kids in my class. I know it was an honest mistake, but I frowned none the less. It wasn't my fault that my mother wanted nothing to do with my life, but I hated being reminded.

"It's actually Mrs. Miliano," my aunt corrected and gave my shoulder a slight rub. I think my aunt knew instinctively when something bothered me and did everything in her power to comfort me as soon as she could.

"That's right," Mrs. Round said as she shuffled a few pieces of paper on the table. "You're Keith's aunt. Now I remember."

My aunt smiled as much as the situation called for. Though Aunt Roe never did mind pleasantries, some times she just wanted to get down to business. I could tell by how her jaw was set that this was one of those times. "Keith gave me your note that you wanted to meet with me this morning."

Mrs. Round's smile vanished and her lips grew tight. "That I did. Keith, if you don't mind, I need you to wait outside."

'Ut-oh,' I thought. Waiting outside was the worst, that meant you did something so bad that the teacher didn't even want you to give an explanation. I looked up at my aunt, hoping she would tell me to stay so I could at least defend myself.

"It's okay," my aunt comforted. "You'll know everything soon enough."

I didn't feel very comforted as I shuffled my feet and walked out the door. I took one step to the left and sat on the floor next to my classroom. A moment later, the door was closed behind me. I wasn't even going to be given the luxury of eaves dropping so I could formulate a response.

"Please, sit down," Mrs. Round offered my aunt a chair that sat on the side of her desk.

"Thank you," my aunt said politely and then sat down, wanting to know what was so important that she would have to be late for work.

"I am sorry that I had to interrupt your schedule like this," Mrs. Round said apologetically. "But we really thought that this shouldn't wait any longer."

"Has Keith been causing you problems?" my aunt asked, trying to cut to the chase. "I know sometimes he can get hyper."

Mrs. Round turned silent as she folded her hands on top of the desk. It was obvious that she was trying to be cautious with the things that she was going to say. "No, not really causing us any problems, but he has been causing up some concerns."

My aunt blinked hard and turned her head to one side, as if she wanted to make sure her ear pointed in the right direction and that she heard every thing correctly. "So he hasn't been misbehaving?" my aunt asked, confused with what the issue could be.

"Not at all," Mrs. Round said. "In fact, our concern is quite the opposite. Keith has been too well behaved."

My Aunt's jaw dropped wide open, but she didn't say anything. She had certain expectations of what this meeting may have been about, but this was far out of the realm of what she thought possible.

"Let me give you some examples and then try to explain our concern," Mrs. Round said evenly, still measuring her response. "Do you remember the parent/teacher conference back in early November?"

"Yes," my aunt replied.

"Do you remember my concern with Keith's desk?"

"If I remember, you said it looked like a war zone," my aunt said casually.

"Now take a look," Mrs. Round said, as she motioned towards my seat, figuring my aunt would've forgotten which one it was.

My aunt turned in her chair and looked over towards the area where I sat. "It looks tidy, is that a problem?"

"Not really a problem, but very out of character for your nephew?"

Aunt Roe really wasn't grasping at why she had to come to the school because I suddenly kept a neat desk. "I've been getting on him about being neater," my aunt offered as an explanation.

"Mrs. Miliano," my teacher said calmly. "Keith has been doing a lot of things that are out of character for him."

My aunt was still at a loss as to why this was a problem. "Like what?" she asked to bide some time.

"In the past, and I'm not just talking about this year but earlier school years as well, your nephew has been quite impulsive. He would frequently get out of his seat, talk out of turn, and seem to be going five direction at once with his thinking."

"Okay," my aunt said in an elongated fashion so the teacher would continue.

"Since the return from Christmas break, Keith has been very, how should I say it, subdued. He has been meticulous in his neatness, uncharacteristic for him and most boys his age. His penmanship has improved dramatically, more than we could expect from anyone. He has been very conscientious in his work, all of his assignments are being turned in promptly and, as you know from earlier meetings, that isn't the way Keith normally goes about life. At least that wasn't the way he behaved in the past."

"So you're worried because Keith is doing better in his school work?" my Aunt asked skeptically.

Mrs. Round let out a heavy breath. "No. We are worried because of the drastic change in his behavior. Keith was never one to be reserved before Christmas and that goes for how he was in first and second grade, but ever since he has come back from break he has been very withdrawn and that does concern us."

"Withdrawn? How so?"

"Let me tell you the incident that led me to writing you the note, it really illustrates my point," Mrs. Round said without betraying emotion. "Ever since Keith has returned to school he has chosen not to interact with other boys. In fact he barely interacts with anyone, which is troubling. During his free time, instead of running around and playing with his peers like he use to before the holidays, Keith has decided to hide out in a small alcove normally populated with girls. It is common for children their age to cluster according to gender and then maybe break off into smaller groups from their. Keith hiding among the girls has been going on since school was back in session. At first no one gave it much thought, the general consensus was maybe he was a little under the weather with all this cold or perhaps he was hurt or sore in some way. Yesterday, Mr. Mayo, decided to force Keith to interact with the other boys."

"Force?" my aunt interjected.

"I don't mean physically or that he gave Keith a specific command. Basically Mr. Mayo, who is our assistant principal and also serves as our lunch monitor, banned Keith from going to the alcove to be with the girls. The idea was this would force Keith to come out from hiding, he would interact with other boys and things would slowly return to normal."

"I'm taking it that is not what happened."

"No," Mrs. Round said glumly. "In fact, Keith went to the other side of the yard and stayed quietly to himself. It is very reclusive."

"I'm not seeing exactly what the issue is though," my aunt said. "I figured a calmer Keith would be welcome after some of the prior complaints."

"It's not that Keith is being better behaved that has us concerned, Mrs. Miliano," Mrs. Round said as tactfully as she could. "It is the dramatic change in behavior."

"Okay," my Aunt said calmly. "I can honestly say that I've seen a slight change in his behavior at home. I just thought maybe it was part of the maturing process."

Mrs. Round frowned. "I want you to know that we have Keith's best interest at heart and are not trying to insinuate anything, but did anything traumatic happen to him during Christmas break?"

My aunt leaned back in her seat. She thought long and hard about the events over the holidays. "We had a very pleasant holiday season, one I think Keith enjoyed very much," she said without getting into too much detail.

"Mrs. Miliano," Mrs. round said evenly as she formulated her next avenue of conversation. "We have reason to suspect that Keith may have been sexually abused over the holidays."

"What!" My aunt yelled as she sprung to her feet. She said the word so loud that I even heard it out in the hallway.

"Please," Mrs. Round pleaded. "Calm down. I am not suggesting that you are the abuser, but I do need to make you informed that it is a possibility. With such a dramatic shift in behavior, with the avoidance to other boys, with the sudden focus on neatness and the appearance of being emasculated we suspect that Keith may have been assaulted by another male, maybe an adult or an older boy. I don't say this to put you on the defensive, but if Keith was assaulted, he is going to need help. I wanted to bring this to your attention this way you could perhaps replay the events of the holidays back in your mind and see if maybe something was a bit out of place. Perhaps a time you thought something was amiss, but couldn't put your finger on it at the time."

"My poor boy," my aunt said as her heart sank.

"Now, we aren't saying for sure that something did happen. We are just saying that there is some evidence that points that direction. We aren't suspecting or accusing you of any wrong doing, but we do want a mentally healthy Keith as much as we want a physically healthy Keith."

"I understand," my aunt said, heart broken.

"I know this is a lot. If you need to," Mrs. Round handed a business card to my aunt. "This person is a specialist in the area and can offer some counseling. We will continue monitoring the situation at school and periodically send reports back home with Keith and if things degenerate further, we will contact you by phone."

My aunt was in a daze. "Thank you," she said as she stood up.

Mrs. Round nodded in response, relieved that she had done her duty in reporting her concerns.

I was still sitting on the floor when the door to the classroom opened. I sprang to my feet before my aunt even had a chance to step into the hallway. I watched my aunt leave the classroom and pause before she turned to face me. "Am I in trouble," I asked as I had difficult reading the emotion in my aunt's face. There was anger and tears and concern and perhaps a dozen other emotions I couldn't decipher.

"We will talk when I get home from work," my aunt said shortly, with a hint of anger behind her words.

I immediately began to tear up. "But what did I do," I said in a whine.

My aunt immediately wrapped me in her arms. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "So sorry. You didn't do anything wrong, and I didn't mean to come of as being angry with you, but we really need to have a talk when I get through with work so I need you to be there when I get home."

"Okay," I said, confused by the whole situation.

My aunt wiped her eye with a tissue. "You have a good day at school, okay?"

"Okay, Aunt Roe," I said and then watched as she walked down the hall to leave. I didn't know how I was going to have a good day though. Maybe I didn't do anything bad that there was certainly something wrong and it pertained to me.

---

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Author's note: This was a good stopping point so I can have people see something for over the weekend. I had this scene in mind from the inception of the work and it moves the story along. I am trying to see what real life would bring in a non-abusive situation and if Keith's reactions are normal, than I would figure the teacher would draw some conclusions as to why. Being withdrawn is one of the signs of sexual abuse (not the only one and not one that cries out 'this kid has definitely been raped). This scene however does set up the next scene and that sets up what everyone wants, a return of Katie and the trappings of girlhood. I just didn't feel right jumping straight to the party because the Christmas story kind of happened in a bubble, so it was plausible, but now you got school and a birthday party and maybe other kids so I have to do my due diligence. I hope you all enjoy, if not, I'll start writing more stories about crushed Gatorade bottles.

Part 4 -The after math

It was the last period of the day, even though elementary school didn't have periods all of us students knew that science was going to be the last subject covered for the day. After the horror of the morning meeting that my Aunt had with Mrs. Round, the day had no chance of improving and was filled with a sense of expectant doom.

I sat quietly at my desk, sulking but still working on the handout that the teacher had given us. I often wondered why we couldn't cover science like Mr. Wizard on television and do fun experiments, perhaps having an explosion or two. Instead, I sat there reading about the food chain and though the reading said humans were at the top, I felt very much at the bottom.

At least the school work would occupy my mind from not focusing solely on 'the talk' me and my Aunt were to have when she came home from work. The fact that I had to wait over eight long hours for this upcoming conversation only made me dread it more. I knew that my Aunt said that I wasn't in any trouble, but remembering the tears in her eyes made me have my doubts. I could only think of two scenarios that made any sense of the situation; either I did something so bad that my aunt was distraught and couldn't bring her to address the matter at school, or something was very wrong with me, like maybe I was dying.

It was hard to concentrate, and I found myself gazing at the clock praying that the final buzzer would sound. I was almost certain that I attended a weeks worth of class just on this one day. I put my pencil to paper to write down the answer to a question that I didn't even read.

"Keith," Mrs. Round called out, snapping me back to reality.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said as I turned my head quickly towards the teacher's desk.

"I would like to see you after class," she informed me.

Oh great, I thought, as if I weren't in enough trouble. "Yes, Ma'am."

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, they just did.

The time crept by but mercifully the final buzzer went off. As my classmates hurried to leave, I just remained at my desk. I methodically packed my things away, knowing that Mrs. Round wouldn't speak to me until all of the other students were gone. At least I wouldn't need to be embarrassed any further, even though I know some of the boys were snickering about me having to stay behind. The only good thing was that I had a bus to catch, so I knew I wouldn't be held up for very long.

As the last girl left the room I stood up and made my way to Mrs. Round's desk. The frown on her face gave me every indication that she wasn't very pleased of me at the moment. If only this day could be over and done with, maybe life could get back to normal.

"How was your day?" Mrs. Round asked and it took me by surprise.

"Okay," I mumbled the pat answer that I figured I was suppose to give.

"From the look on your face, it doesn't look like you think everything is okay," Mrs. Round said sympathetically.

"I just don't know what I did wrong," I blurted out in frustration.

"Who said you did anything wrong?"

"No one," I whimpered. "But you spoke to my aunt this morning and she wants to have a talk when she gets home from work..."

"And you think that means you're in trouble," Mrs. Round cut me off.

I paused to think about things. "That's what that normally means. A meeting with the teacher and a talk at home, I might be punished for life."

Mrs. Round gave a strained smile. "Or it could mean that people are concerned about you," she offered.

"About me?"

"You haven't been the same old Keith we have always known since you came back from Christmas break and we just want to make sure everything is alright with you."

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled in frustration. "The same old Keith wasn't a real person," I said, not really able to express what I wanted.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. The boy that was here before Christmas doesn't exist," I blurted out and wish I hadn't.

A look of worry and confusion came over Mrs. Round's face. "Where did he go?"

"He never existed," I said silently, as if by uttering my secret would cause the universe to crumble in on itself.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Round said softly. It was obvious that she felt ill equip to deal with what I was saying. "Could you please do me a favor?"

"Okay."

"When you have your talk with your aunt, promise me that you will answer her with the truth, no matter how embarrassing."

I had no idea what truth that Mrs. Round was talking about, but I knew that I had a bus that wouldn't wait for me forever. "I will," I conceded.

"Good," Mrs. Round gave a faint smile. "I will see you tomorrow."

"Good bye," I said silently and then made my way to leave.

Luckily the bus waited for me and I made the trip back home in silence, even though there was chaos both surrounding me on the outside from the noisy students trying to expend pent up energy from the day and chaos inside of me that could no longer make sense of the world.

I was let off the bus in front of 1816 Himrod street and made my way to the door. I expected that I would have at least two hours before my Aunt got home and maybe if I used that time wisely I could figure things out. I walked up the three reddish-pink concrete steps of the stoop, pulled the key from my pocket and unlocked the door. Even the walk down the hall that was so familiar seemed to take much longer than usual. It was like I was a condemned inmate walking down a prison corridor towards the electric chair.

Even though we lived in New York City, my Aunt and I often left the door to the apartment unlocked, so I didn't think it odd when the door simply opened when I turned the handle. What did take me off guard was to find my Aunt waiting at the kitchen table as I walked into my home.

"You're here." I said in surprise as my aunt looked up at me.

"I didn't go to work today," my aunt informed.

"I'm sorry." I bowed my head.

"What are you sorry about?" my aunt said tenderly.

"Because I made you miss work," I said as I put my book bag on the chair where it belonged.

"You didn't make me miss work, I missed work because I wanted to."

"Okay," I said, unsure of myself.

"We need to talk, Keith," my aunt said firmly, letting me know there was no getting around it. "Sit down."

I was obedient and took a seat by the side of my aunt. I guess I wouldn't have any alone time to prepare for this talk after all.

"There is no easy way to talk about this, Keith," my aunt started, only adding to my sense of dread. "But you have to promise to be completely honest with me."

I took a deep gulp. "I will," I said, my throat suddenly dry.

"Because it is very important that you tell the truth," my Aunt said, stalling for time.

"What did I do wrong," I blurted out.

"Keith, you didn't do anything wrong." My aunt put her hand on my forearm. "When we were at Gerard's, did anyone touch you in a bad way."

I took me a moment to process what I was being asked. In 1983, children were hardly informed about being touched sexually. Though my information was limited, I did figure out what my aunt was talking about. "No," I said with uncertainty in my voice because I didn't know if I was answering the right question.

"You won't be in trouble if you tell me the truth,” my Aunt pressed. "Did Gerard or Uncle Paul touch you in a place that they weren't suppose to."

I shook my head no.

"What about that teenage boy that was friends with Laura? What's his name, Dexter. Did he get fresh with you and cross the line?"

Once again I shook my head no.

"I'm going to ask one more time, just to be sure. Did anyone do anything to you during Christmas break to make you feel uncomfortable."

I took a moment to think about it, wanting to be sure myself. "No, Aunt Roe. No one touched me in a bad way."

I was expecting a look of relief to come over my aunt's face, but it never came. If this whole talk thing was about her thinking someone did something bad to me, then you would think knowing nothing happened would make her happy. She just sat there, looking at me, searching for some answer that I didn't even know the question of. A tear drifted from her eye and traveled down her cheek. Whatever she was thinking, it certainly wasn't anything pleasant.

"Honest, Aunt Roe," I said try to be upbeat. "No one tried to do anything fresh with me."

There was an awkward silence that hung in the air that may have lasted all of five seconds but seemed to last for hours. We just sat in our chairs looking at one another. I didn't know what my aunt wanted to hear to make her feel better and it looked like she had the weight of the world just come crashing down upon her.

"Keith," my Aunt barely squeaked out my name. "I am sorry that I made you dress up like a girl for Christmas..."

I could tell that there was more to what my aunt wanted to say, but her words just sort of hung up in the air. There was a brief moment when my aunt tried to collect herself, a moment where I all of a sudden knew that in the next few seconds I would be determining my life for quite some time.

"No," I said, elongating the 'O.' My mouth stayed open, in a brief instant I knew I had made some sort of decision, but I couldn't verbalize it.

My aunt blinked hard. "No?" she stared at me. "What do you mean, 'no?'"

"Don't say you're sorry for letting me be Katie for Christmas," I answered firmly.

"But I can see that it has made you upset, you haven't been yourself ever since."

"I have been myself," I said as I stood up. "For the first time ever I have been myself. I'm not upset that you let me be Katie."

My aunt must have noticed me becoming flustered.

"Then what are you upset about?"

I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. I had no clue why I was starting to be so emotional, but I couldn't understand why my Aunt was apologizing for the best memory of my life and I felt like if I didn't do something, anything, then me being Katie will be a distant memory never to be repeated.

"Keith," my aunt said tenderly. "Come on, you know you can tell me anything."

I sat back down in the padded wooden kitchen chair, knowing that this conversation was going to shape things for the future. "Okay," I said as my mind raced to formulate what I wanted to say. "I'm not upset at anything. But," I took a deep breath as my seven year old brain was being taxed to do something beyond itself. "If I am a little upset at something is that you made me stop being Katie."

I could tell my aunt was thinking, evidently my declaration took her by surprise. "I didn't make you stop. I mean, I didn't tell you that you couldn't be Katie."

That was true, she didn't actually say, 'Keith, you can't be a girl any more.' But it was more subtle than that. It wasn't that she said no, to Katie, but at the same time she didn't say yes either. The day after Christmas I spent some time in my nightgown, but I was soon wearing jeans and t-shirts and Katie sort of vanished in the corner somewhere, never to be mentioned until now. There was no way I could verbalize what I was thinking though, I didn't know how. "But we didn't do Katie things any more," I made an attempt anyway. "There was no Katie clothes and I couldn't wear the party dress for every day and I couldn't wear the same underwear again."

My aunt was processing the information. Perhaps she knew what I was thinking better than I did. "Keith. Or should I say Katie?"

Even with the heaviness of the conversation I managed a smirk. "For real?"

My aunt reached out and put her hand on my forearm. "When have I ever kept something from you that would make you really happy."

"I rather you call me Katie, but, it's kind of going to be hard getting use to."

"For us both, Katie," my Aunt made it a point to emphasize my female name. "After Christmas, I can't say you went back to being the boy I knew, but you certainly went back to being a boy. You put the doll up, even though I know you play with it when I'm not around."

I blushed at being busted.

"But you never said anything. It was actually a little confusing to me, but I thought maybe Katie was something you wanted to do once in a great while. Lot of men do that."

"Like Uncle Paul's friends?"

"Some of them." My aunt smiled. "Some men spend most of their time doing guy things and once in a great while do girl things. I thought that was what you were doing. That maybe you did enjoy being a girl, but only wanted to do it for special occasions and was happy with that."

"Katie isn't a pretend person," I said as I tried to make sense of myself. "Katie is real. I am real."

"Then why didn't you say something?"

"I don't know. I kind of thought that you would've let out girl clothes when you wanted me to be Katie, but when I saw jeans and tees, I thought maybe it was a one time thing."

"You being who you really are has to be an all the time thing," my aunt said as her hand reached to my cheek and wiped a tear away. "The only way you can find out who you are, on the inside; whether that is Keith or Katie, is by being honest. Honest with yourself, and honest with me who is here to help you figure it out."

I closed my eyes as I felt comforted by my Aunt's hand on my face. "I know who I am," I stated in just above a whisper. "I am Katie, I want to be Katie, always."

"Then Katie you will be."

For the first time in the month of January the smile returned to my face. "Can Katie have a birthday party this weekend?"

"I don't see why not," my aunt said as the air in the room became less thick. "Do you want to go by Gerard's again and be with Laura?"

"I was thinking we can have it here," I said hopefully.

There was a look of concern on my aunt's face. "Do you think it's such a good idea to let the cat out of the bag to all your friends at school? Some might not be too understanding."

"I just want to invite two friends, if that's okay."

I could see the corners of my aunt's mouth turn upwards. "I'm sure I can manage a party for two, I presume other girls."

"Yes."

"Considered it done. We will discuss the details later, but I am almost sure I know what kind of birthday party you want."

"The most pinkilicious birthday ever," I stated firmly to the delight of my aunt.

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Author's note: I knew it took some time, but I am back to writing. My writing schedule is going to be a bit odd. I am going to try to get back to posting on this story every two or three days until completion. After that, I am going to start focusing on completed works of quality and novels. I have certain things for BC:TS, but I have other novels as well and need to expand. There is a forth book of the God Bless the Child series that is in me and a spin off that is not remotely TG. My time for being a serious writer is running out, so I think it's time to give it a go (even though i think GBTC and Finding Jenny should be both published and made into movies).