TWINS
Part 1. Punishment
by Marie C.

“No, noooooo, dad! I dowanna. Waaaah ah-ha-haah!”

I blubbered like a three year old as my father manhandled me through the front door. Scrambling to stay inside I grabbed the door frame, the handle, anything, everything I could to put off a fate worse than having to clean up my room! I shrieked even louder when the wind billowed my skirt exposing bare legs and a pink ruffled bottom to the whole street! Not thinking I let go of the door frame and yanked at the hem to cover my indignity. At the same time ribbons flapped into my eyes forcing me to swat at them with my other hand. Big mistake, though.

Taking advantage of my distraction dad lifted me up and over his shoulder like a sack of squawking chickens where I pounded, kicked and howled to no effect, skirt, ribbons and all fluttering merrily in the late morning breeze. I and my girly attire continued our happy display while being conveyed to a black SUV, there to be tumbled unceremoniously into the back seat like a rag doll. From the look on his face dad couldn’t have cared less.

Old Mr. and Mrs. Granger were working in their yard and startled, they watched our trek with mouths wide open. Once in the vehicle I got the dress down over my knees, scrunched down below window level and sobbed into a flimsy hanky mom had stuck in my sleeve. I don’t think they recognized me - at least I hope they didn’t! And the girl who lived down the block, did she see?

For those with a curious bent I was wearing a knee length red checked gingham dress embellished with white rickrack around the collar, puffy short sleeves and a big bow in back. My brownish-red hair was curled and decorated with matching ribbons, one on each side. Completing the garb were shiny black Mary Janes and embroidered frilly, white ankle socks. Dressing like this for a birthday party is o.k. for some dumb girl, but I was a nine year old boy!

Why me?

It started a week ago when my father drove over to collect me. There I was in a pink and white frilly outfit complete with short flaring skirt. Can you think of a more stupid getup? I had been intimidated into a dress-up game by my cousin Marlene and her friend, Leticia, both of whom are crazy about Japanese comic books, manga to the likes of you.

I‘m small for my age and they’re older and bigger. Marlene is real bossy and Leticia is physically strong, a combination deadly to small boys. As a matter of course these creeps inflict the same tortures on any kid hapless enough to come within reach, girl or boy. I was just the latest.

Marlene has a huge collection of clothes, fancy costumes and dolls and her room is a princess boudoir - white lace curtains, four-poster bed, mirrors and vanity with matching ruffles. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty like it on TV.

She doesn’t have any brothers or sisters so Aunt Linda tries to have as many kids around as possible. Mock fashion shows are staged around the clock because that’s what Marlene is into. Mostly Marlene does as Marlene wants and not many kids can stand up to her when she’s in “determined” mode. I know I can’t and mom says Aunt Linda has as hard a time as anybody. Likewise I‘m an only child. My parents stopped having kids when I was born, so I ended up as the closest thing Marlene has to a brother. We’re together more than I want.

We were in Marlene’s room with me half-watching her and Leticia primping in these super feminine frocks leftover from somebody’s costume party. Aunt Linda got several from a school rummage sale and Marlene had the pink and white thing laid out on the bed. Since there was a big pile of unidentified stuff next to it I assumed it wasn’t important. It never occurred to me I could be hijacked into their game so I tuned them out and stood at the window watching two gray squirrels chase each other along the branches of a nearby oak. I didn’t see the girls whispering to each other behind my back.

“Come on, off with the trousers.” When I woke up they already had my jacket on the floor and my shirt unbuttoned. I started to object but they were quick and as I said, determined.

“Here close your eyes.” She wrapped a blindfold over my eyes. “Now stand there while we finish.”

I don’t know why I didn’t object as I felt shoes and socks come off one by one and finally my trousers. I lifted my arms and feet when told to, felt things being pulled up and over and something tight being wrapped around my waist. Finally the blindfold came off and I blinked my eyes. I was seated facing a blank wall unable to see anything except pink and white cloth in my lap. And my legs were cold. Something long and hairy went over my head, a light colored wig it turned out, then something pinned on top. Quickly and efficiently the girls daubed me with lipstick, lightly brushed my lashes and then both did my fingernails in pink.

I was dumbfounded when they got me in front of the mirror. There was this frou frou little girl staring back with mouth hanging wide open - frilly peasant blouse, wide pink skirt with suspenders over a starched petticoat, blond wig and black ankle strap flats with lacy socks.

Not missing a beat they pulled me down the stairs, across the hall and into the living room. My aunt looked doubtful as I walked by skirt and petticoat swaying but with other things on her mind I’m sure she was glad we had something on that wasn’t lethal. Nor did she ask what I thought in spite of my expression, after all the girls did this sort of thing every day. I admit I was in some kind of fog that day, like I was swimming in bright, warm water. Come to think of it that’s how I felt whenever I was there.

“You do look sweet,” Linda said planting a light kiss on my nose as she looked me up and down while my two companions stood there on each side gripping my arms.

In the backyard Linda had readied a picnic of fruit juice and cookies. The girls fluttered around in their get-ups bringing out dishes and plastic spoons. “Here, put these out, one for each of us,” came the order. I took some cups from a stack and set them around the table while Marlene’s camera flashed. Fortunately there weren’t any houses near, so no one else saw me. Small comfort.

“Knees together,” they chortled as I sat across from them. They were looking at me under the table, the little snots. “Those bloomers look so cute with the little ribbons!” Then they climbed back up in a fit of giggles. I pressed my legs together as best I could, pulled at the way-too-short skirt and turned my red face toward the squirrels now above us who were chittering angrily at a large raven.

In the middle of a cookie reach Leticia stared long and hard at me like I had just beamed down from the Enterprise. Then she squinted at Marlene. “He sure looks like you. You know, you’re almost twins.” I stuck out my tongue not wanting to hear that I looked like my cousin. Then Marlene pressed the camera timer and dragged her chum over to my side of the table and it flashed at three smiling head-to-head cuties.

My cousin and I do look alike. We have the same reddish brown hair, impish faces with upturned noses, light freckles and hazel eyes. That’s where the resemblance ends. She’s two years older and about two inches taller with long hair - and a girl! Leticia has long straight black hair and olive skin and her parents are Spanish or Mexican or something. They live about a mile away on a ranch near the Point Reyes-Petaluma Road. She says her brothers tease her all the time because she’s a girl. I think she takes it out on other boys when she gets the chance, boys like me.

My Aunt Linda Sullivan is dad’s younger sister by three years. Dad, who goes by the name Ted Bishop, feels responsible for her and always plays big brother when she’s in a tight spot. She tells him not to fret, but lately he’s been coming over almost every week.

A year and a half ago Uncle Derek walked out unexpectedly. Arriving home from a shopping run Linda found a piece of paper on the kitchen table stating simply “Goodbye. This old dump is just too weird.” As the story goes he took off with a nineteen year old waitress named Debbie. Derek’s real estate office was next to the girl’s job and according to the restaurant she quit around the same time. Nobody knows where they went.

So there was Aunt Linda stuck with raising a young girl on next to nothing. She takes in sewing and works part time tutoring kids in the area, mostly Marlene’s pals. She has a grade school teaching credential but there aren’t any local jobs what with the budget cuts. To get a good position she would have to commute more than a hundred miles each way every day. However she does have a small income from a trust and dad helps her out from time to time.

She’s an attractive woman in her early thirties, about five four with a nice figure, an adult version of Marlene. She keeps her dark hair curled in a practical page boy and wears casual clothes like jeans, boots and heavy jackets. Rough clothes are necessary where they live which is very rural. Inside the house she wears loose trousers, smocks and brunch coats. When she meets customers she gets spruced up in a blouse, skirt and sensible heels. If she lost ten pounds she would be a knockout, at least that’s what mom says.

When she’s hitting on all fours Linda’s a levelheaded, motherly type who keeps house and business in good order. After Derek walked out mom says Linda stayed in bed a lot and rambled on about this and that to no one in particular. Light bulbs and broken windows didn’t get changed or fixed. Dirty dishes piled up. That’s when dad started coming over. She got better after he dragged her to the doctor and got her on nerve pills. Mom thinks Marlene’s pushiness comes from having to fend for herself during the time Linda came unglued.

Mother and daughter live in a rambling two story Victorian farm house about fifteen miles from our house which is at a distance in San Rafael, California, in the middle of Marin County. Though it’s not that far it seems like a long drive over the Sir Francis Drake Highway because of the narrow road which is always jammed with traffic. Their house is perched on a low hill above the tiny settlement of Nicasio, four and a half crooked miles from Drake Highway (It’s on the map).

Years ago Linda and dad inherited the building and ten surrounding acres from a distant uncle. When her divorce was final dad deeded her his share, so she and Marlene now have nothing to pay except taxes and upkeep in a part of the world where tiny apartments go for thousands a month!

But they’ll have to let out a few rooms to make ends meet, Linda says, so she’s put notices in the classified section. Why anyone would want to live in the boondocks is a mystery to me because it;s so boring, but mom says people are desperate to find any space that won’t bankrupt them. She expects Linda will get lots of calls once the word gets out. It’ll be good to have people around, dad says.

My dad is an infantry captain, lean, muscular and square jawed, a recruiting poster model and fitness freak who gets annoyed that his son is so undersized. In his world boys have to be involved in manly activities - little league, camping, watching football games, fishing. You’ve seen this list before. I enjoy these things too, but my size keeps me out of the roughest games, and that disappoints him no end. I try sports and sometimes I do pretty well, but apparently not well enough. When he’s home our house is run like his battalion and I get treated to long sessions of calisthenics and jogging. Fortunately he doesn’t mind my Game Boy especially when I’m into those battle videos. Mostly our communication is one-way, him to me.

He’s been on a desk job for a couple of years working as liaison to the Air Force, whatever that is and hates it. Maybe that’s why he’s so fidgety with me when he’s in the house. Months ago he put in for active duty and in a few weeks he’s up for deployment to somewhere secret. I don’t like the idea of him going away as impossible as he is.

Grace, my mom, is quiet, pale and outwardly mousy though sometimes she’ll stand up to dad’s macho outbursts. She hasn’t been well and has to rest lying down most of the day. Visiting nurses come to the house and she goes to a clinic in San Francisco once a month for special treatment. The doctors say she’ll be better by the time dad gets back. Nobody ever told me what’s wrong.

As Marlene’s three “girl” soiree got under way Linda fretted about dad finding me dressed up. “Be sure and change in fifteen minutes,” she said. The girls said not to worry, they would let me know in plenty of time. I should have worried.

An hour into the “party” dad came around back after he couldn’t get anyone to answer the front door. He stood for a time watching us with a big smile, him all decked out in starched fatigues, Ray-Ban sunglasses, buzz cut brown hair and floppy fatigue hat. I didn’t see him until he was nearly on top of us. I turned away as quick as I could praying for a hole to open in the ground.

“Where’s Kirk ?” he asked (I’m Kirk). The rats looked up and grinned. Finally Marlene snickered. “He’s right there, Uncle Ted.”

At first dad looked at them in disbelief like they were putting him on. He turned away glancing into the trees as though I might be trooping back all dusty from a hike or tree climb. When he looked down a second time and saw that the pink and white confection was his only son his jaw dropped a mile. Then his face turned dark and hard, complete with narrow eyes like Clint Eastwood.

Linda bustled through the back door wiping her hands on a towel and expecting the worst. “They were just playing dress up, Ted. Marlene and her friends do it all the time.” She pretended to be nonchalant. “I’m sorry. I meant to have him ready but the time slipped by.”

Her attempt to finesse matters didn’t faze dad. He stood there hands on hips like a drill sergeant. “Get out of those clothes and find your own, now! On the double!” He jerked me up and threw me toward the house, skirt and wig flying.

“Ted, he’s just a little boy!” Linda grabbed her brother’s arm while I ran to the bathroom, tore off Marlene’s outfit, washed my face, sort of, and started changing. I heard him come to the back door and shout “Into the car when you’re done!” like I was destined for a quick trip to Gitmo. He and my aunt continued talking in loud voices though I couldn’t make out what they were saying. When he got to the car we took off with screaming tires, churning out clouds of dust as we hit the pavement. He never said a word even after we ran two red lights. Once home I was ordered to “God damn well clean yourself up and go to your room!”

Later mom came in, washed me properly and removed the nail polish. She said Linda called to explain everything and remind us that Marlene’s birthday party was next weekend. “Your father gets worked up about things like this. I’ll talk to him.” She looked very tired. No TV that night

The following Monday dad drove to Travis Air Force Base to check in with communications. He would definitely deploy out of the states in two weeks. The rest of the day he spent at mom’s hospital where doctors confirmed she was on the mend. Then he came back for me.

“Grace, he can damn well get it out of his system! And what’s that about him doing it before? Jesus H. Christ!” Dad was doing the talking and table pounding, loud enough for me to hear through the door against which my ear was pressed. Mom was protesting fitfully.

“Ted, you’re overdoing it. Kids dress up all the time.(cough) And yes, he did. But I didn’t tell you because you’re so damn blockheaded about things like this. Besides you know how pushy Marlene is with all the kids. Now instead of forgetting today he’ll remember it forever. What will that accomplish?”

“A lesson he’ll never forget.” Dad pontificated. “My father made me put on a dress once and had me parade up and down the block after he caught me with Linda’s clothes. It worked then. It’ll work for Kirk.” Mom’s doubtful response was muffled when she started coughing real hard. Dad started for the bathroom and I took off.

What was dad talking about? I didn’t understand. And, well yeah, I did dress up a couple of times before. What about it?

The next morning mom and dad came to my room. I would go to Marlene’s party togged up as a girl with all the trimmings. That was my punishment for being caught by dad! I ran outside and hid in the garage for the rest of the day, horrified and totally pissed at my own parents.

Mom called Linda who said the idea was absurd. “It was just a game,” Linda protested and she had completely forgotten about the time when they were kids. “God, men and their egos!” she muttered.

An hour later Marlene called to say (with a snicker) there would be a “neat bunch of girls” coming Saturday to stay overnight. All of them would go to church together on Sunday and then to the party after. She wanted Kirk to come Saturday and be part of the group. I said no. Dad said it was a damn good idea.

The gingham dress hung in my closet all week, seeming to gloat every time I reached for my shirt and pants - and Saturday came too soon. On the other hand I couldn’t help taking it down once, well maybe two times, only to look at it out of curiosity. You know what I mean. I held it up in front of me at the mirror, then wondering how it might feel I slipped it over my head and twirled back and forth. At the bottom of my closet was another box with soft nylon underwear that I ran my hands over. It smelled nice. In another box there was a pair of bright, shiny Mary Janes which I stared at for a long time.

Saturday morning mom stuck me in a smelly bath and I was told to scrub. After wrapping my hair in curlers she put me under her dryer smiling the whole time like maybe she was having fun. Yeesh! When she took the underwear out of the box it was all wrinkled and she stared at me for a moment like she wanted to say something, but I turned my head away blushing. Returning to the task at hand she assured me the curls would wash out later

I started sulking for real as she pulled the freshly starched dress over my head and buttoned me in back. Dad nodded with stony-faced approval while she wrapped the red satin sash around my waist and tied it in back with a big bow.

I was ready for my fate until I got cold feet. You know what happened next.

Standing there in my very girlie undies Leticia eyed me from top to bottom with undisguised glee. She really got off on this I thought. Together they slid the pink dress over my head and zipped the back. My chest now sported two points and my butt stuck out in back. Marlene lightly dabbed me with lipstick and that was it. I had turned into the most pliant girl child any parent could ever want.

TWINS Part 2. Saturday
by Marie C.

Marlene and her vampire sidekick stood on the porch stairs, grinning like devils as our oversized machine barreled up the steep driveway spewing dust for a radius of fifty feet. Dad opened the car door and I made a last ditch effort to stave off my fate by grabbing the seat belt. Useless. In the process of resistance my dress hiked up again, this time accompanied by riotous laughter from the daughters of Dracula.

“Too short!” I thought as I wrestled with the hem. “Why does it have to be so darn short?”

Checking his chronometer dad announced to all and no one that I had been deployed precisely at 1200 hours. He gave a clipped salute to the girls and Linda who had just come through the front door. In another thirty seconds he was down the hill and peeling rubber on the blacktop.

Aunt Linda came down the stairs to where I stood rumpled, cowed and vaguely confused, gave me a hug and led me up to lunch. “I think Ted’s making too much out of this, but you look nice anyhow. We’ll pretend it’s Halloween and have fun.” She was doing her best to put me at ease but I wasn’t having any of it in my sulk. And wouldn’t you know, Marlene’s “special group of girls” for Saturday night turned out to be just three - her, Leticia and me. “Real fun,” I mumbled. The sandwiches Linda prepared stuck to my mouth and tasted an awful lot like glue on wet cardboard.

Once done with the meal the junior Black Widow announced that today we were going somewhere real neat. But first we had to change. Linda had retreated to the kitchen in back, now completely out of earshot and I knew now I was being drawn into a new web woven by my conniving relative. Couldn’t she pick on someone else?

To get the afternoon started in the “right way” the schemers had me go up the stairs to her room alone while they loitered behind at a leisurely pace. To my annoyance I found out their purpose was to taunt me because I wasn’t holding my dress down properly to keep people from seeing my bottom. Since my skills at feminine niceties were minimal and the dress was so skimpy they had a riotous old time crowing about my cuuute panties. Underwear humor is really big in these parts.

Once in her room Marlene produced two identical low-necked ankle length empire dresses, both in bright pink. “These are ours,” (meaning hers and mine!) she declared and held one up to my front while I scowled. I looked out the window hoping to see the squirrels but the varmints must have been busy elsewhere. When I turned back my cousin was busy at the bed laying out matching lingerie including padded bras, padded girdles and tan hose. Yuck. They looked expensive and exactly like what mom had in her chest of drawers.

I was jerked out of the fog when Marlene announced “Kirk and I are going to be twins today,” and held a pair of lacy pink briefs up to the window (knickers to you Brits). They looked so flimsy. I could even see light through them unlike my grungy jockey shorts. On the other side of the room Leticia sniggered, teasingly brandishing the bra in my direction.

“Here,” she said shoving the intimates into my hands. I was really surprised because they didn’t weigh anything and seemed to crackle with electricity at my touch. I nearly dropped them, briefly spellbound as I was by their softness. What would it be like to put them on?

Waking up again (I seemed to be drifting a lot) I said “Twins? Nobody said anything about twins. I dowanna be your twin.” I tried to frown menacingly but with little effect. As if to underline my feebleness Marlene wagged her finger in my face unfazed. “Remember what your father said!” I didn’t remember him saying anything about twins though I was sure any complaints would be relegated to the round file.

I stood there mildly fuming while the girls lifted off my cotton dress, hung it up neatly and once more stripped me to the buff. Once on the nice panties felt so cool on my bottom, almost like nothing. That accomplished the conspirators quickly wrapped a padded bra around my chest and had me step into a padded panty girdle. At her vanity I sat gaping as they rolled sheer tan pantyhose up my legs and pushed my feet into low-heeled black pumps. I wanted to protest but in seconds I had forgotten what was on my mind.

What happened the rest of the weekend was more like a pretty pink dream than a punishment as far as I could remember. Back home I knew I had been mad about the upcoming day, embarrassed, even freaking out. Here at Marlene’s I was placid and unemotional. No not unemotional, feeling a pleasant glow.

Standing there in my very girlie undies Leticia eyed me from top to bottom with undisguised glee. She really got off on this I thought. Together they slid the pink dress over my head and zipped the back. My chest now sported two points and my butt stuck out in back. Marlene lightly dabbed me with lipstick and that was it. I had turned into the most pliant girl child any parent could ever want.

While the girls dressed I became aware of my pantyhose, strangely cool on my skin and squeaking against the taffeta dress liner. The tightness exerted by the bra and girdle set held me together and dulled my residual anxiety. I lifted the skirt to keep it from catching on the furniture and for a moment was hypnotized once again, this time by the tips of my black shoes peeping out from under the hem.

Done with dressing Leticia gave us a once-over. “You’re awesome! Twin princesses.” She clapped her hands, mock curtsied and arranged lace shawls over our heads taking care to tell me I was such a “girlie girl.” I felt myself blushing. She had on a yellow version of our frocks.

There was no time for thought as I was hustled down the stairs in a mental mist with Marlene bubbling “Mom, look! Isn’t Kirk really cool?” Linda’s face said “Oh, God, what have we done?” What actually came out was “You look very sweet,” and she pecked me on the cheek. Whatever objections there were to my “punishment,” they were not going to be made out loud, at least not today.

We piled into Linda’s old Toyota and drove to Fairfax, a town eight or nine miles east of Nicasio with a district of narrow, old timey shopping streets where she parked next to a storefront with the name HAIR BY SONIA painted on the glass. It seems that the lady was an old friend of Linda’s and a barter of some kind had been arranged in exchange for Sonia’s services. Nobody told me anything except we were getting our hair washed.

Sonia was a cheerful woman in her forties who led us three “girls” into her curtained back room. Two women helped us out of our dresses and pantyhose, covered us with smocks as big as tents and lifted us into the chairs. How did I feel? I was “taking it like a man” although that seemed to be stretching things. The funny calm returned when I started to get annoyed.

Once we were settled Linda told us she was going out for more party supplies and was gone in seconds. After the door closed Marlene hopped down and whispered something in Sonia’s ear. With a conspiratorial smile Sonia looked my way and nodded. Worry? Why worry when I was floating on a cloud.

Our chairs tilted back as the beauticians began fussing over their young charges. They chattered on about the first time they had gotten “the works” when they were not much older than us, whatever that was. My mother’s curl job was ruined when the woman shampooed, toweled, sectioned and snipped at my hair. Most of the time I couldn’t see anything except the ceiling, although it sounded like they were doing the same to the girls. The woman rolled my wet hair into tight curlers leaving long strands over my eyes which she snipped straight across. The curlers were soaked in something really smelly and suddenly my chair was brought upright.

As I sat there spacing out two younger women stepped up and unexpectedly snapped something into my ears and that hurt a little. I winced but still didn’t say anything. After a time more gunk was smeared on my curlers and a large hair dryer was placed over my head. While I sat waiting my fingers and toes were done up in bright red polish.

Once they took away the dryer my face was scrubbed lightly, rubbed with another goop and I sat some more. A fluid was spread over my eyebrows which promptly went numb. Somewhat confused I watched as small hairs fell one by one into my lap. After that a tiny brush painted something dark on my brows and lashes and tickled.

Color was brushed on my eyelids and cheeks just before the lady carefully drew on red lipstick. I couldn’t see everything they’d done because she was still pulling out curlers and combing my hair. Besides my back was to the mirror. Sonia then brought Marlene over and sat us heads together checking the makeup and making little changes after which we were taken in and redressed. All this time I hadn’t spoken. I was a poster child for the words “space case.”

Leticia was the first one of us I saw. Her hair was still long but trimmed neater. It now flowed smoothly as she turned her head from side to side. She looked like a Latina movie star, really gorgeous and sexy. I looked at Marlene. She was sporting shorter hair with bangs and curls on the top and sides. Her eyebrows were thin arches and lips were ruby red. She had turned into a little doll and looked a lot older than eleven.

With a smile she pulled me over so we could see ourselves in the mirror together. Two identical preteen fashion models! I could have been knocked over with a wet noodle. Marlene had smooth-talked Sonia into going all out to produce a pair of look-alikes.

“See, I told you we were twins,” she whispered as Sonia pinned goldtone tiaras in our hairdos.

“Your boy friends are so lucky,” Sonia said. Soon all the beauticians were going on about how cute we looked. I guess women never grow up either. They’ still love dressing little dolls.

When Linda returned she looked at us and shook her head. “Let’s go. We’ve got dinner reservations.” She looked at me again and said “Did you have his ears pierced?” She sounded exasperated. “What‘s Ted going to say? God, I’m going to catch it.”

Marlene smiled innocently at her mother as I guess she does a lot. She turned us to look in the mirror again. I hadn’t noticed but Marlene had been wearing little pearl studs. Now I was too. I smiled for a second, frowned weakly in an attempt to show disapproval, then touched the little pearls with both hands and in spite of myself and smiled again. Sonia looked surprised when she heard the word “his” however I was pushed out the door before anyone could ask what Linda meant.

We went into another storefront a few doors down for Marlene’s birthday photos. After a couple of shots alone Marlene insisted that the two of us pose together holding bouquets, then one of me by myself. It took some doing to get a proper smile out of me and tilt my head in an appropriately girlish way. Apparently I did well enough because the photographer seemed satisfied. Once again I didn’t (couldn’t?) find any way to object. Mostly I stared vacantly at camera equipment when I wasn’t being hauled hither and yon.

At the restaurant Marlene insisted we sit next to a small dance floor where everyone could see us, “two pink flowers and one yellow” she said. Marlene and Leticia kept turning their heads smiling at the other tables and dancers. I did my best to concentrate on the music and hide my general confusion. A couple of times my hair was bumped but it had been lacquered so hard that nothing could have mussed it short of an atom bomb. Aunt Linda looked nice in a pale dinner suit although I think she was frazzled what with the upcoming party and Marlene’s scheming.

A tall, well-built blond man in a sport jacket and slacks came up to the table holding a bottle of beer and a glass with his eye on Linda. She waved at him smiling and patted an empty chair. He was Sergeant Zack Miller from the Marin County Sheriff’s Department. Linda’s house was in his district and she had literally run into him at the tiny store by the Rancho, just down the hill from the house. In fact she had backed her Toyota into his rear bumper without damage to the patrol car but adding a couple of scratches to hers which already had its share of dings. Zack didn’t give her a ticket but managed to come away with a date for brunch at the Rancho with her and Marlene.

He stared at me and then at Marlene, obviously surprised at seeing double. With Marlene’s usual gall she said “This is my cousin Darlene and my friend Leticia.” Leticia stifled a giggle and Linda rolled her eyes. Later I asked why she said that. “Did you want me to say your name was Kirk?” She looked at me as though how stupid could I get.

“Did you catch lots of bad guys this week ‘cause we haven’t seen you for a while?” Marlene stuck out her lower lip in a cute pout. “But you have a really fun job don’t you.” This time very flirty.

Not knowing much about girl kids Miller answered hesitantly, “Well, I didn’t this week, but most of the time nobody‘s doing bad things. That’s why I get to sit and talk with pretty girls!”

With eyelashes fluttering Marlene innocently said, “Darlene and I want to marry policemen.” Leticia shrieked and I kicked Marlene in the leg. Linda said “That’s enough!” and glared at the three of us. It took a minute or two for the giggles to stop. Zack looked confused but nobody would say anything.

After his beer and a couple of dances with Linda Miller excused himself. He had to be on duty in an hour and needed to get ready. “Nice to meet you girls. Linda, where do you find all these lovely creatures?”He kissed each of our hands in turn.

When we got back to the house I was crying. “Why did you say that about marrying a policeman! I don’t like this. I want to go home.” My fear and anger had overwhelmed the day’s lassitude.

Linda held me on her lap while Marlene apologized. “I’m sorry, Kirk, I won’t do it again. I’m so used to you being my twin now, it’s real easy to say things like that. Besides, I do it all the time to Leticia - and besides you look so neat!” The last was said with a big friendly grin and fingers crossed behind her back.

I felt my protest drowning under the wave of her smooth talk. Afterward Linda brought in bowls of ice cream and my equanimity was restored. I watched spellbound as red-tipped fingers daintily lifted my spoon. The mirror reflection across the room looked like Marlene taking elegant little bites.

“You stay in my bed tonight,” Marlene said as we went up. “My princess cousin needs her own room. Leticia and I will be down the hall. This is your birthday, too, my little twin,” she said conspiratorially. Why did it sound so ominous?

Marlene’s bed and room were frilly and girlish and I had a hard time falling asleep, especially since my hair was in rollers - for the first time ever. I suppose I must have drifted off but remember waking up with the room filled by a funny bright light. I got out of bed oddly drawn to Marlene’s closet, rummaging in her clothes, pulling out different outfits, parading back and forth in front of the mirror and smiling with my head tilted like I did at the photo shop. As I posed fetchingly I thought this can’t be me, it’s Marlene.

As I tried each costume the girl in the mirror changed. The first was a very young Marlene playing dress up in storybook costumes. The next was a smiling preteen with budding breasts, both arms wrapped around her favorite teddy bear. Then a full figured teen-ager in a décolleté prom dress, a jubilant young woman in her wedding gown and finally a beaming mother-to-be. They all had Marlene’s face. They couldn’t be mine.

Linda pouffed our hair and combed our bangs with a big smile. “I love fixing up my little dolls,” she said, her annoyance with my father forgotten. Lastly she attached large fuchsias at the sides of our heads. Prepubescent prom queens from the 1950s. .

TWINS by Marie C.
Part 3. The Party

I woke up in Marlene’s bed all tangled in the bedcovers and felt like I hadn’t slept for a week. Hovering over me were the duo resembling nothing more than the vultures they were, waiting to feed on their favorite prey. For the rest of the day I was completely drained of energy. The idea of protesting what happened next flitted in and out my mind like demented moths.

The week before Linda located two yellow sleeveless knee length sheaths for Marlene and friend(!) and a pink one for Leticia all according to Marlene’s specifications. These garments were tighter and made our fronts and hips more prominent than the long pink ones. This time I didn’t even bat an eye when they fussed over me. Still the space case I thought.

“Hurry or we’ll be late for church,” Linda called. She and Marlene were Catholic so we girls had to wear white see-through nylon scarves, white gloves and last night’s black shoes. I sighed as we looked in the mirror. Marlene and I were identical again. Linda was very attractive in a pastel blue suit and matching veiled hat. At the last minute all of us were sprayed with an evil perfume that made me sneeze. Linda seemed not to notice my continuously forced femininity, at least she didn’t say anything.

Before we got out of Marlene’s bedroom my curiosity led me back to Marlene’s closet where I saw a forest of frocks, costumes and shoes exactly like the dream. Linda and Marlene must have raided every thrift shop and rummage sale in the state as mom said they didn’t have all that much money. What a strange nightmare.

“You sit between me and Leticia.” Marlene ordered as we walked in. “We won’t tell anybody who you really are,” and I was frog-marched to the front row to be seated between the conspirators.

“Why sit here?” I whispered. “So everyone can see my pretty twin,” Marlene replied with a big warm smile. Leticia grabbed my hand and shushed me. With the other I tugged at my skirt which kept hiking up over my knees.

The service was mercifully short. As we stepped outside a tall boy waved and turned in our direction. Coming up to me he said, “Marlene, you look terrific!”

Marlene, who was standing at my side, said I was her cousin Darlene. “Bert, I’m over here and you better make sure you get us straight,” she mock scolded. My face went red and I tried to get out of the way but Leticia maintained an iron grip.

“Oops, sorry,” Bert said. “You look terrific too, Marlene. See ya later.”

“Is Bert your boy friend now?” Leticia asked emphasizing the words as preteen girls will. Marlene replied with a private little smile. I felt sorry for Bert if he was Marlene’s boyfriend.

Leticia continued yakking in her snide way. “He thought Kirk, er, Darlene (tee hee), was you. Well, I don’t know about you but I’m going to keep calling him Darlene so I don’t get things messed up.” During their deliberation about what to do with me I was totally ignored. What a pair.

Messed up was right, I thought. And what did Bert mean about seeing us later? Was he coming to the party? Marlene said she invited only girls “and maybe a few others.” I should have known.

Coming back to the house we found several mothers busily setting out food and party favors. I was girlhandled upstairs where another change of costume lay in store, this time to a pink and magenta knee length taffeta with small cap sleeves. The neckline was round with a tight bodice. A wide see-through skirt was layered over two starched net underskirts. When we turned or walked the hem twirled and made a noticeable rustling sound. My underwear felt like I had nothing on at all. We looked feminine, showy and very teen-age.

Linda pouffed our hair and combed our bangs with a big smile. “I love fixing up my little dolls,” she said, her annoyance with my father forgotten. Lastly she attached large fuchsias at the sides of our heads. Prepubescent prom queens from the 1950s. Only a few hours to go.

We heard kids and moms babbling downstairs while Linda was getting us ready. Leticia had already gone down and I began to wonder why we hadn’t. Marlene explained that she needed me by her side so we could make a really super cool entrance. And why should that make me feel uneasy?

“Here, try this.” She put one foot behind her, held her skirts wide and dipped her knee. “It’s called a curtsy. Go on.”

My first time was clumsy and the fourth and fifth attempts were reasonable.

“Here, hold my hand and we’ll do it together.” Twin curtseys took more practice I learned after nearly knocking her over.

“Come on. Everybody’s waiting.” Leticia was calling up to us so Marlene took my hand and we descended the stairs hand in hand like movie queens.

Everybody went “Ooooooo” as we swished into the front room and cameras flashed.

Marlene tugged me to the middle and whispered, “Now curtsy.” We pulled it off rather smoothly I thought. “Again,” she whispered. And yet again. I didn’t have time to be mortified. The pictures I saw later showed me smiling.

“This is my cousin Darlene,” she announced to everyone sweeping one arm around the room but keeping a firm grip on my hand. “We’re twins today.”

She towed me over to Leticia where I was pushed into a low chair makihng my skirt billow up in front and providing an ample display of my siny nyloned legs. By now I was completely dazed, numb to the goings on and wondering who or what I really was. Leticia continued her hold on my arm as Marlene continued sedately around the room greeting her guests one by one.

“That was rad,” Leticia bubbled in my ear.

“I didn’t know we were going to walk out in the middle like that,” I answered in befuddlement.

“Cool it. You did real good. You make a better girl than the ones who came today - except for me and Marlene.” My hand got a mighty squeeze this time, an unexpected affection.

Several moms quizzed Linda about Marlene’s twin. “Oh, that’s her little cousin,” she replied blithely, letting the subject drop, hoping no one would say anything else. She could hear comments flitting around the room like “They really do look alike! Remarkable!” and “I didn’t know Marlene had a girl cousin.”

Laura was the only mom who had known Kirk before. “I thought Marlene’s cousin was a boy,” she observed to Linda. While Linda remained silent she thought about the strong resemblance and remembered Marlene’s ability to dominate other kids.

She fought back the impulse to laugh out loud. “Marlene’s at it again, isn’t she?” she said to Linda. “What name did she make poor Kirk use? I didn’t hear.”

“Please don’t say anything.” Linda wilted under Laura’s questioning. “My brother is making a big deal out of punishing Kirk by making him wear girl’s clothes for the party. I don’t like it but I guess it’s harmless. Marlene and her friend now call him Darlene,” she said trying to look interested in the other moms and kids present.

To herself Linda shrugged knowing her daughter had brilliantly cooked up this whole event and started to wonder how she could have raised such a child. Under Laura’s gaze she began to feel the weight of letting Kirk’s dress-up go this far, but for now she was resigned to the bizarre circumstances as long as it didn’t get out of hand.

She realized she was getting a bit of a kick out of it. “What’s going on?” she wondered. Her mind was wandering again she ruminated over recent events. Did she forget her pills? And then noticed Laura peering at her with concerned eyes as though something was wrong.

When Linda came back to life Laura continued “Don’t worry, the secret’s safe with me. But have you noticed? Kirk doesn’t look miserable like some of Marlene’s victims, er playmates. And he’s just as cute as she is. You have to admit that.” Her faux pas went unremarked.

Laura gazed across the room at her own chubby twelve year old fidgeting in a frilly party dress, just itching to get back into a dirty sweatshirt and thongs. Jokingly she asked Linda “Would you trade him for my girl?”

“I know what you mean,” Linda understood her friend’s comment as she watched Kirk standing next to Leticia. Just for an instant she imagined having him and Marlene living here together and growing up as twin girls. What a strange idea, she thought, and wondered where it came from.

The party proceeded along the usual lines - blindfold games, races in the backyard and a Mexican piá±ata that Marlene broke after the third swing.. Before Marlene started swinging one mother gave him the piá±ata stick thinking he was Marlene until Leticia put her straight. Two girls accidentally called Kirk Marlene by mistake and he couldn’t participate in the running games because of Marlene’s high heels and the encumbering wide skirts. So he was forced to stand around prettily with Leticia as his minder and listen to adults tell him how cute he and Marlene were.

Leticia studied Kirk with glee as she towed him around through the groups of parents and kids introducing him to everybody, especially the boys. This was the first time she had ever turned a boy into a girlie girl and it was a big charge. She desperately wanted to tell everyone that Kirk was a boy but Marlene for some reason told her not to. Leticia could never do anything like this to her brothers because they were too big, but it wasn’t for lack of wanting to.

After the games Laura put on a record for simple square dances. There weren’t many boys so most of the girls had to dance with each other, however Marlene engineered it so that Bert invited “Darlene” onto the floor.

Bert was tall for an eleven year old and good natured. His hair was neatly combed and he wore a jacket and tie. He wasn’t afraid of girls. “Darlene, will you be my partner?” he asked. Kirk couldn’t reply because he was so embarrassed, but Leticia gave him a shove and whispered “Take his hand!”

She giggled as Bert put his hand through Kirk’s arm and Kirk was unwillingly propelled to the middle of the room swishing daintily. He couldn’t make eye contact with Bert and kept his head turned away for the whole dance. When it was over he nearly ran to his seat dragging Bert behind when the boy didn’t let go right away.

“Thanks, Darlene. I’m sorry you’re so shy. You know, you’re even cuter than Marlene. I think you’re the prettiest girl here.” Kirk clung to Leticia completely flustered, unable to look at anybody else for ten minutes. With great difficulty Leticia kept herself from hopping up and down with glee as she watched his discomfort. This was more fun than she’d had in a long time.

When the party ended the mothers quickly tpicked up the paper plates and wrappings. All commented on how pretty Marlene and her twin looked. Bert even gave Kirk a peck on the lips when he said goodbye leaving the boy totally bewildered.

Laura stayed longer than the others ostensibly to help but secretly watching Kirk for a while. “He seems so natural as a girl,” she thought. For some reason she resolved to keep the knowledge to herself.

When Leticia’s mother stood at the door the girl kissed Kirk goodbye and whispered “You make a really good girl, better than a boy. You should let your hair grow real long and pretty and wear dresses every day. Then you could play with us. I’ve got some old dolls you can have.” What a thrill, Kirk thought. Even so the idea made him feel funny.

Finally Marlene, Kirk and Linda were the only ones. Marlene showed Kirk the dolls, makeup kits and fancy lingerie she received. She handed him a pair of lacy nylon underpants to hold saying “Aren’t they nice?” then added “I know, you can have my old ones to wear. I’ve got some really nice ones.”

Kirk emphatically shook his head and Linda finally intruded, “That’s enough. Kirk has to get ready.”

Twenty minutes later Kirk was back in his gingham dress and Mary Janes. Instead of a prom queen he was a little girl wearing grownup makeup. Linda went over his face carefully with soap and removers. Even then it didn’t all come off. Marlene’s lipstick contained a stain and his lashes had been dyed. Then there were the pearl ear studs, Betty Boop eyebrows and curly perm

That’s how he looked when dad walked in.

At one seventeen a.m. his desk phone buzzed. “Zack, it’s Linda. I can’t find Marlene. I’ve looked everywhere!” Her voice sounded flat and depleted. He waved at the dispatcher to plug in and tape the call. Linda had dialed his direct line, not 911.

TWINS by Marie, Part 4: Missing
by Marie C.

Sergeant Zack Miller leaned back in the swivel chair, tie loose, one foot up on the open lowest drawer of the desk. The other furniture was vacant at night and half the lights were off to save energy. It made the place look abandoned. The only sound he could hear was the slight woosh, woosh from the overhead heating system. He saw the dispatcher behind her glass window taking notes from a large book. Squinting hard he could just make out the title in gold letters, Principles of Corporate Law.

He perked up as two deputies came through the back entryway and went to the coffee machine. In short order they began arguing about last night’s Giants’ game. As he watched from a tight angle one raised his arm like he was going after a fly ball and ended up dumping his coffee on the floor and wetting one trouser leg on the way down. Miller went to the connecting door and frowned at them while the wet one said “Sorry, Sarge” and continued wiping off his pants and the floor as best he could. Slow night at the Kentfield Substation.

Miller sucked at his now lukewarm cup and grunted at a report on his desk. Big dustup at a College of Marin basketball game - two kids in intensive care, five in the lockup and a concussed deputy. “Christ, if they don’t have any brains how do they get in college? And just because some team lost.” He tossed the sheet like a frisbee and nearly made it to the out box.

The daytime incident log was totally electrifying and he had to stifle a big yawn. A woman in San Geronimo called to complain that someone unknown is still cutting down trees on her property. Why hasn’t the sheriff done something? Car Five couldn’t find the deer somebody said was hit on the highway near Taylor Park. A lady at Olema phoned to thank the officer who found her purse.

The night was more than three years after the birthday party.

At one seventeen a.m. his desk phone buzzed. “Zack, it’s Linda. I can’t find Marlene. I’ve looked everywhere!” Her voice sounded flat and depleted. He waved at the dispatcher to plug in and tape the call. Linda had dialed his direct line, not 911.

He willed himself to be calm. “Did you try your sister-in-law’s or that chum of hers, what’s her name, Leticia? And how long has she been gone?”

Zack had been seeing Linda more or less steadily for three years since the day she backed into his car on Nicasio Square. Marlene now teasingly called him “Uncle Zack” and he liked it, but he couldn’t get used to the two of them living way out in the boondocks like they did. So for the past few months he’d been pushing Linda to find a place in town and maybe they could all move in together. Every time he went up those creaky front steps he got the creeps.
He woke from his recollections. Linda was starting to babble. “Leticia and Addie haven’t seen her. They expected her to come this afternoon and called when she didn’t arrive. Grace and Kirk haven’t seen her for weeks. Oh God, It’s my fault. I let her walk to Leticia’s alone. Something’s happened, I know. She always calls.” She paused and then choked, “Can you come out? I don’t know what to do.” She started crying.

Miller responded as calmly as he could. “I’ve got a car in Forest Knolls ten minutes away and I’ll get there as soon as I can. Don’t worry, she’ll turn up, but you have to tell me more.” He was scribbling on a blank pad as she disjointedly described what Marlene wore when she left at 4:00 that afternoon. Getting a description was like pulling teeth because Linda was coming unglued.

He eventually hung up and told the dispatcher to alert the Highway Patrol for a possible Amber Alert kidnapping. He didn’t have any vehicle description or license number which was a bummer. He repeated Marlene’s description for the record: 14 year old girl, reddish brown hair, red and white striped T-shirt, red sweater and blue jeans. He could describe her to the last freckle. “Make it an APB to include San Rafael, Point Reyes Substation, Sonoma County Sheriff and local departments. Details to follow .”

He took a chance pulling out all the stops after only nine hours and with such limited information. Department policy was to wait at least twenty-four on a missing persons report, though these days deputies were encouraged to act right away if a kid was involved. Departments got a lot of heat if they sat still and things turned bad.

He started to wonder if something had really gone wrong. The FBI had been requiring incident reports on every missing child in the North Counties Area. Last week was their sixth request of the year. It griped him because they always expected information from the locals and hardly ever gave anything back. If something was going on in the area it didn’t make him feel any better about Linda’s call. This time he had a personal connection to the mother and child and wanted to be a part of it.

Mom wasn’t feeling good when she picked up the phone. It was about six o’clock when Linda called. We hadn’t seen them for weeks, not since Aunt Linda did a grocery shopping for us. Mom was better for the most part but still had spells and Dad was somewhere overseas. We couldn’t call him directly and either had to write or leave messages with Army communications. We couldn’t even send e-mail. Anyhow mom didn’t want to bother him until we knew more.

Since the birthday party Marlene had two others. She called me a few days before one of them and begged me to dress up again. I wouldn’t and dad wasn’t around, so that was that. Mom and I went for awhile and I wore my plaid long sleeve shirt, jeans and new reeboks. We didn’t go early and left as soon as it was over. Nobody mentioned the dress-up party, not even Leticia. I didn’t get to the second one because dad arranged through the Army to get me in a boys’ sports camp. He can hope can’t he?

After the first party dad trimmed my hair to a buzz cut and pulled out the ear posts. The makeup stain wore off and my eyebrows grew back though it took a couple of weeks. I was totally worn out after that experience and slept for a day and a half. The dress was donated to the Goodwill. I remember mom looking wistful when she folded it into the box. Yeesh.

Dad was right. I did forget about girls’ clothes, deliberately. I wanted nothing to do with girl stuff anymore until I got ready for dating and right now that wasn’t even on the horizon. Even remembering the party came hard. It was just sooooo creepy, more like a bad dream than anything.

When school started I got into swimming and managed to place in a couple of competitions but was still too small for football. As usual dad was annoyed no end. I could hear his frustration as mom read his letters out loud. I wasn’t bad at basketball because I could duck under the tall guys but my height kept me on the bench most of the time. On the other hand school work came easy and my grades were always good. So I had plenty of time to help mom - even now that she’s well enough to make the San Francisco drive on her own.

Dad finally got us on his cell phone asking about Marlene. He’d put in for compassionate leave but couldn’t get away because his unit was still engaged. By then it was a month since Marlene had gone missing. So everyone was looking forward to his coming home.

Today I came in after school and mom was sitting there with tears in her eyes and holding a letter in one hand. Across from her were two serious-looking Army officers in dress uniforms.

“Your father is dead, Kirk,” mom said. What does a twelve year old say to something like that? I went over and sat next to her and she put her arm around me.

One of the officers spoke. “He was in the mountains near Pakistan when his patrol was ambushed. Five men were hit right away and a Blackhawk extraction team was called in. His unit was taken out under fire and your father was hit too. He stayed on the ground the whole time until everyone was safe. Even then he insisted on carrying a wounded guy to the copter. They had to pull your father on board while they were lifting and he died in the air. He was a hero.”

Dad’s remains were lowered into the ground at Golden Gate National Cemetery which is just south of San Francisco. Mom and Linda were in black and I had on my best suit. The buzz cut had long since grown out to an unkempt rocker’s ear length. After taps the honor guard handed mom her folded flag and we drove quietly back to San Rafael. Neither mom or Linda had family in California so our memorial gathering was small and short. Linda hadn’t heard anything new about my cousin, and wanted to get home as soon as possible in case someone called. Mom whispered to me that she didn’t think Marlene was coming back, but not to say anything to Linda.

Early in the search deputies found Marlene’s sweater by the reservoir and a posse scoured our little valley with their dogs. They even dragged the reservoir with big nets. Homes and farms as far as the state park, Olema, Point Reyes and Dillon Beach were checked. The Sonoma County sheriff didn’t find anything either. The consensus was she had been kidnapped like Polly Klaas had been fifteen years ago.

They even located Uncle Derek in Miami. Police found him selling underwater swamp lots to New York investors and living with a woman who didn’t know he had a wife and daughter. Debbie was history. Background checks confirmed he hadn’t been out of Florida for three years.

In the report Derek blamed Linda for the way she raised Marlene. No wonder she ran away, he said. She was probably looking for him right now. The Miami cop who called wondered if there was an outstanding warrant for nonsupport, if so, to let him know and his department would be happy to serve it.

Five weeks later mom was killed in a head-on collision on the Golden Gate Bridge coming back from her monthly doctor’s visit. A speeding drunk crossed the center line, clipped a truck and totaled her car. The drunk was taken away with scratches.

Linda was waiting at home when I came in from school. She told me up front figuring it was the best way. But I didn’t know how to take the idea that mom was gone, too. We had just buried dad. Linda held me on her lap for a long time and after awhile packed a few things and drove me to her house. By then I could hardly take a step and was a complete zombie as we climbed the front stairs.

Linda handled the funeral arrangements and took control of dad and mom’s affairs in a crisp, businesslike manner. I guess it gave her a chance to stop thinking about Marlene. According to my parents’ will Linda would be my guardian from now on. I was twelve and a half almost thirteen at the time and Marlene had been gone for four months. It was now three and a half years after party number one.

Linda’s big house was built in 1881 and overlooks the hamlet of Nicasio from the top of a low, flat hill. Driving north along the Nicasio Valley Road you can’t miss it on the right once you pass the Lucas Valley Road intersection. From the west or front side of the building it has a terrific view of the little square, Nicasio Creek, tree-covered hills and grazing land all the way to Samuel P. Taylor State Park. Ancient oaks tower over the roof in a wide circle and the only access to the house is by a treacherous dirt driveway that twists uphill from the main route. At the bottom of the hill on the square is a wood Catholic church built the same year as the house, the one we went to before the party.

Once upon a time Linda’s place was part of a two thousand acre Marin County dairy farm, most of which had to be sold during the financial panic of 1929. Only the house, a servants cottage, and a ruined barn remain. An old-timer once told Linda that her property was part of a Spanish land grant made more than two hundred years ago.

Her house is two stories tall and shaped like the letter “L.” The small leg of the “L” is in back and points to the right or south. A square tower with an ornate oval window dominates the entrance and makes a sort of third story. Below it gingerbread woodwork decorates the porch and eaves, some of which has broken away giving the house a snaggle tooth look in places. Architects would call it a mansard house, that is the second story leans back at a funny angle.

The main entrance is on the right side under the tower off a small porch. Access to the porch is by a short flight of wood stairs from the flat parking space in front. Entering the house you can go straight up the inside stairs to the second floor or turn left down the hall to the parlor where the party was held. Further back are the dining room and kitchen. Behind the kitchen is a back door to a small porch, then the backyard and an old servants’ cottage.

Five bedrooms make up the second floor. In front is Marlene’s room under the tower. Next to that in front is another large bedroom used for Linda’s sewing. Behind the sewing room along the north side are Linda’s bedroom and then mine. A noisy indoor bathroom with an old fashioned ceiling tank was carved out of my room sometime before the dinosaurs became extinct making my room a bit shorter than the others. At the top of the main stairs is a large room in back occupying the short leg of the “L.” All have nine foot ceilings and are twice the size of rooms anywhere else that I’ve seen.

Next to the back bed room is a set of narrow, winding stairs leading to the tower. I‘ve never been up there because Linda keeps it locked. She says there’s nothing there but dust and spiders.

At one time the house was white, but a lot of the paint has peeled away and patches of gray and brown from earlier coats make the outside all spotty. At ground level there is a scattering of ornamental bushes that José the handyman trims now and then.

My room is a museum of treasures - rock posters, Raiders’ and Warriors’ pennants, basketballs, worn reeboks - you name it. It‘s a pigsty, but it’s my pigsty! Dad and mom’s pictures are all over the wall and I look at them a lot.

I’m proud dad was a hero but he sure was hard to get along with. I feel sorry for mom because she never had a chance to get well and enjoy things. Her lawyer is after the drunk driver so some day I’ll get a chunk of money to give Linda. But it doesn’t bring her back.

Once I settled in Linda went back to grieving. Sometimes she sits and looks at pictures of Marlene and my father. A couple of times I heard her crying behind the bedroom door. I found her outside one day looking around in case Marlene was playing in the garden. She cleans and locks Marlene’s room leaving it exactly as it was so it will be there when she comes back.

Zack called a couple of times. He still wants Linda to move out of the old house, but she always says, “I have to stay. What if Marlene comes and I’m not here?” Another time I heard her arguing with him over the phone. Now she refuses to talk to him.

One day she told me she heard children’s voices. Did I hear them, she asked? After she said that the house felt even spookier than Zack’s been saying. As near as I can tell the house is dead quiet, no pun intended. Was Linda losing her marbles like she did when Derek left? The two of us make a great pair with me moping around.

The kids who played with Marlene don’t come over anymore, not even Leticia. Linda’s tutoring has dried up because the kids are too old now for her credential. Now they’re bussed to middle school in another part of the county. For the time being I’m her only student. In fact I’m the only child in the building except maybe for the voices. Brrrrr.

Linda hasn’t completely lost it. Somehow she keeps up her sewing business which includes a limited women’s wear and lingerie sideline. A small number of local ladies bring in patterns, fabrics and sympathy but other than the business Linda avoids company. Money from dad’s pension, my parents’ savings and the sale of my parents’ house helps with the worst of our money problems although a lot of that is being saved for my education. She went to the doctor and got more nerve pills. That helped.

She actually did get a couple of renters. One is a retired lawyer called Bill who says he likes the quiet country life. He camps out in the old servants quarters which she had José fix up. After Bill finishes his Wall Street Journal he watches birds and squirrels until happy hour at four o’clock. More often than not his first drinky-poo comes much earlier. Every now and then he drives to an apartment in San Francisco where, Linda says, he has a lady friend half his age. Linda brings him his dinner a couple of nights a week.

Mattie Simpson cleans Bill’s rat’s nest once a week. She’s an enormous black woman who drives twenty-five miles from Marin City, the black ghetto of the richest county in California. She’s been very kind to me since I told her what happened to mom and dad. One day I told Mattie Aunt Linda hears children’s voices. I was worried about her getting weird again.

Mattie sat me at the table with a piece of cake and glass of milk but didn’t say anything for a time. Then she looked me in the eye and spoke, “Boy, this an ol’ house. Sometime it jes’ creak and groan of ol’ age lak’ I do. Ev’body hears those noises - you hears ‘em ‘specially when the house cool off at night or the sun get strong durin’ the day.”

“Sometimes they’s noises harder to figger. A lot o’ people lived here an’ died here. Ev’ryone of ‘em put some kinda mark on the house. So we hears noises they lef’ behin’, noises that sound lak’ voices.” She said this all matter of factly and watched my face the whole time.

Taking a breath that raised and dropped an enormous bosom she said “This hill a place of power, too. Make those voices stronger.” She rolled her eyes and crossed herself.

“Do you hear voices?” I asked, completely absorbed. This was better than TV.

She waited again almost like she had to pull herself together every time she talked. “Yes, they soun’ lak’ chirruns playin’.” She paused and watched me again. “I don’t pay no mind ‘cause they enjoyin’ theyselves. They ain’t scary lak those mean backwood haints down South.”

“Yo’ auntie right about voices, but she also hurtin’ 'cause her girl’s been took away. You have to let her be an’ be nice to her. She need you. You get back to yo’ chores now,” and gave me a squeeze.

I forgot to ask what a place of power was. That night I hid under the covers all night because her story was so scary. I still didn’t hear any voices.

Our other tenant is an attractive blond woman in her mid-twenties named Sandy who’s not around much. She works for a computer sales outfit in San Anselmo and commutes back and forth several times a week. She wears miniskirts that show off a pair of terrific legs. Her customers are mostly men and she has the best sales record in her company.

José comes every couple of weeks to work on our jungle-like garden. He’s an immigrant from El Salvador, someplace way south of the border, I think. When Marlene disappeared the deputies came to check on his whereabouts. When he saw flashing police lights coming up the driveway he took off running past Bill’s cottage to some tumbled-down adobe ruins way in back. They dragged him out in handcuffs although it turned out he was home with his wife the day Marlene disappeared. When he lived in El Salvador he hid and watched the army arrest his whole family. He thought the deputies were going to send him back.

Linda bravely gives me school lessons in the sewing room. They’re pretty easy so I go through them fast. I end up doing little things around the house like raking and helping José when he comes, washing dishes, carrying things for Linda, ya-da, ya-da.

I miss Marlene but in some ways she seems to be around. Linda has her photos all over and her dolls are perched in the downstairs windows. Every now and then Linda grabs me and holds on like she wants to crush me. I think it helps that I’m here but missing Marlene takes its toll.

Sometimes I sit alone under the trees for hours doing nothing but think about mom and dad and watch the squirrels. I get to feeling down and wonder if there will ever be much to look forward to. There are only a few weeks left of school work and summer’s coming. Maybe things will change.

“You’re such a darling. It’s like Marlene never left. My nephew and little girl are all rolled into one (giggle).” She took me on her lap and gave me a big hug.

TWINS by Marie
Part 5 - Marlene
by Marie C.

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“Kirk, wake up! Come oon!”

I groaned and peeped out from under the covers. It was bright like daylight but it wasn’t the sun or overhead electric light. Marlene was standing by my bed in one of her fussy dresses, hair all curly, hands on hips and grinning like an elf. Behind her a strange silver brilliance like moonlight seemed to come from everywhere. When I understood who was there I jerked upright in total surprise.

“Marlene when did you get back where’ve you been your mom’s worried sick I think she’s going bonkers.” It came out as one sentence.

“I’ve been here all the time. You just couldn’t see me.” She pursed her lips implying I was just as dumb as ever and always would be.

I looked mystified.

“I don’t know what happened. I remember walking to Leticia’s as far as the old school. Then I was here. Mom and Uncle Zack acted like they couldn’t see me or hear me even though they were looking all over. It was scary and I cried a lot. When mom’s asleep I think she can hear me a little.”

Her face brightened. “It’s really, really neat you can. It took ages to wake you up. I‘ve been yelling every night.” She twisted her mouth again with that “how stupid can you be” expression and yanked at my covers.

“Come on, I want to see mom with you along.” I reached down for my slippers, but she grabbed my hand and had me into the hall before I could find them. Whatever happened hadn’t changed her a bit.

“Won’t your mom wake up?” I whispered in Marlene’s ear as we stood by Linda’s bed looking down.

“I don’t think so. Mom, MOM!” Marlene was literally shouting. Linda turned on her side but didn’t wake up. Marlene stroked her hair and pulled the cover over her mother’s shoulders. There were tears in Marlene’s eyes.

I gave it a try. “Aunt Linda, Marlene’s here.” This time I was right over her ear with Marlene watching. Still no response.

“She can’t hear you either. I don’t think anybody can hear you right now except me. I bet even if you touch her she won’t feel it.”

I put my hand on Linda’s arm. No response, not even a twitch.

Marlene went on “ Sometimes I bump into people and they jump like there’s an electric shock, but they still don’t see me. Right now I think you’re like me.” She took me by the hand again. “Let’s go to my room. I want to try something.”

I got a funny feeling and twisted away from her grasp. I pushed my door open and there I was sound asleep. Talk about weird! I thought about waking myself up, and then backed away like it was something I shouldn’t do. On the other hand talking to Marlene like this was normal? Like what’s happenin’ dude?

I followed Marlene down the hall to her room where she climbed up on a small table and snatched a key from the top of the door frame. Her room was just like I remembered, all white and fluffy, but a whole lot more neat because Linda cleaned it so much. As we stood in front of the big mirror Marlene and I were now the same height and more like twins than I wanted us to be! I made a face.

“Stand still.” she ordered. I felt her as she moved sideways into me just like those scary TV shows. There was this crackly feeling like electricity and a buzzing that gradually went away. The Marlene/Kirk figure walked around, sat at the vanity, opened drawers, picked up dolls and danced around the room gleefully “I can do things again (shriek, shriek!).”

There I was twirling around inside. I couldn’t figure what she was about but I didn’t like being a puppet.

Stepping out of me she barked “Off with your jammies!” and she stripped right in front of me. I took mine off too and well, so what’s so wrong about that?

As soon as we were buck naked she moved back inside of me again with that funny noise. The new image in the mirror was hers alone except for my added parts which faded after a minute. She now stood there alone with nothing left of me to see. Hey!

“Let’s play dress up,” she calmly declared (Not asked. She never asks.). Down came that awful fluffy birthday dress from the third chapter and out flew a pair of instep strap heels. “I know you like this one, twin! Don’t tell me you don’t.” It was true, I felt hypnotized again just like three years ago. She/I twisted and posed in the mirror like a model. The hem brushed our stockings with that special rustling sound and we stifled a giggle.

Sensing my attraction to the fabric she deliberately slid her/my hands up and down the nylons under the skirt and outside on the dress moving the cloth smoothly back and forth. Arching her back she stretched her arms and lifted her hair with both hands. She was bursting with a kind of energy I had never known even when mom and dad were still around. I felt really good too, better than I had for weeks - and she knew I did.

Plunking down on the vanity she started toying with her/our hair and complaining “Your hair’s too short so let it grow, and jeez, wash it!” The orders were coming from inside my head this time, almost like I was saying them myself. Things were getting confused.

At some point I wanted to get free of Marlene but couldn’t! The part of me that didn’t like playing dress up had reemerged with a vengeance and I was freaking out. But whenever I tried to step aside nothing happened.

“Let me out.” I started weeping somewhere inside the combined apparition or parallel universe, whatever it was. “I dowanna do girls’ things anymore. After your dumb party I didn’t dress up again. Why now?”

With my outburst Marlene sat down at her vanity and began making herself up with a casual aplomb. Her Voice, thoughts or whatever became very smooth and gentle. “Can’t you help me even a teensy bit, Kirk? I’ve been sooo lonely and haven’t had fun for a long time. Now that we’re together I get to do all sorts of things again - and I don’t feel scared anymore because you’re here. Please, pleeeze. We’re not doing anything bad. Besides, I know you’re having fun too.” Pity and logic, a powerful combination. Beaten again.

That taken care of she reached into her closet where on a shelf she located the party snapshots. Looking through her eyes I saw myself again as Darlene, smiling prettily to the mothers and children at the party. “I’ll have mom put these up tomorrow. You’ll have to take my place in the sewing room and help her because I can’t do it anymore.”

She/I crawled under the bed covers in her flimsy nightie where we squeezed her teddy bear and doll in both arms. “Your mommy’s back,” she said to the doll, “Maybe two mommies (giggle).” She held a bottle to its mouth and said “Good night, Twin.”

“Kirk , it’s nearly nine.” Linda was tapping on my door. Spooky dream! I woke up in my bed wearing my scruffy pajamas. I saw my junk lying around and wanted to sleep for a week. According to the bathroom mirror there was no makeup on my face, just the sleepiness that comes off with hot water and soap. My hair was its usual rat’s nest.

Once I got dressed I took a quick walk around the upstairs and there was no Marlene. Her room was closed just like we never went in last night. I even climbed up and found the key over the door - covered with weeks of dust. I thought about sneaking inside her room to see if it was messed up like we left it but decided not to. Sticking my tongue out at the door I went downstairs to breakfast.

After I finished my bowl of Total Linda airily asked me to come up to the sewing room. There I saw those framed birthday party portraits neatly spaced around the wall, the ones Marlene pulled out of the closet last night. Marlene looked nice I thought, but it took me a minute to realize that one of those photos was me in that dress and hairdo, me holding a bouquet of lilies and me with my smiling head tilted to one side. And no matter which way I turned in the room, there was always one of us staring down at me. Yeesh.

“I can hardly tell you apart.” Linda prattled as she hung one last frame. “You looked so sweet as a girl. You danced with Bert at the party. Do you remember? ” She was certainly cheerful this morning, more than usual, but it looked like she was talking to someone in outer space.

Red-faced with the memory of my dance with Bert I patiently asked “What kind of help do you need, Aunt Linda?”

With a coy smile she said “Well, I have boxes of lingerie that need sorting. A few skirts need ironing.”

I could see where this was going. “José’s coming today. Remember? I promised to help paint.”

“Not today. I need you here.” Her voice shifted from almost childlike to more than uncommonly firm, both completely out of character for my aunt. Unfolding the ironing board she talked to me about how to adjust the iron for use on synthetics and cottons. “We’ll start on the easy pieces. Marlene likes doing this, so you will too.” Earth to Aunt Linda, are you there?

I frowned muttering under my breath “I’m not Marlene and you’re mental again.” I remembered what Mattie said, Aunt Linda needs me, so I didn’t say anything else.

Linda brought out a floral pinafore apron - with ruffles. “This will keep you from dirtying the new things (giggle).” She lowered it over my shoulders and began wrapping a scarf on my head turban style. “Your hair’s a mess,”she remarked in passing.

“Do I have to wear all this?” I griped as I lifted my arms. Linda smiled and continued wrapping me until I looked like a small, skinny white Aunt Jemima. I got no answer except that goofy smile.

Ironing was harder than I expected. I even dropped the darn thing on the floor barely missing my foot. And it made an awful racket when it landed. Fumbling to get it off the floor I managed to burn my fingers and scorch the carpet.

Linda looked exasperated. “Well, keep at it. You’ll learn.” I hope not, I grumbled.

In an hour or so the skirts were on hangers. Most of them looked o.k., I guess. I hadn’t scorched any. I started to untie the apron, but Linda pointed to several boxes of women’s briefs.

“Sort them by size, not style or color,” she said. I saw plain nylon panties, lacy bikinis and thongs for all ages. Things from forbidden territory! Alarm, alarm. A big sigh. “I don’t know anything about this stuff,” and let my hands drop.

“Just look for the size numbers. Hold them up to the light and you’ll see little tags with numbers sewn into the side seams (giggle).”

Some were soft and lacy and my mind began to wander. What would it be like if I put them on? I shook my head. No, no. I finished putting them away feeling more than a bit dreamy.

By lunch I was done and more or less used to shuffling women’s underwear around the table. I put my best face on the situation and figured I’d learned something even if I was never going to use it. And I would get over my disaster with the iron.

I kept thinking about last night’s session with Marlene which had me totally wound up. Did the two of us getting together last night make Linda act differently today? I wondered.

After lunch Linda took me back upstairs clearly no longer in a depressed mood. “Your hair needs a wash and a trim. I do Marlene’s all the time.” So I was marched to the bathroom while Linda brought out a tube of shampoo. After toweling me dry she evened the bottom with scissors and lightly plucked my eyebrows. “Marlene likes curved eyebrows. But you probably don’t so I’ll just do a bit.” I remembered Betty Boop eyebrows from the party and prayed.

In the mirror my neck-length hair had been neatly parted in the middle and now flowed loosely around my neck and chin. With red bow-style barrettes on either side Linda charmingly framed my face into a girl’s oval which emphasized the slightly shaped eyebrows. In the mirror Marlene’s turned up nose and freckles stared back.

“Learn to brush your hair every night,” Linda advised. “It’ll look nice when it gets long.”

Back in my room she took my old underwear out of the drawer and held it up for inspection. Some of it was admittedly tattered but most of it was just slightly worn. “By the way here are some of the underpants you sorted. Your old ones are a bit tired and have to be thrown away. Nobody will notice if you wear lingerie under your jeans and it’ll save us a little money. They’ll be here in your drawer.”

Clearly something was slipping away.

The next week I continued with my sewing room apprenticeship. Linda had given me Marlene’s cotton scoop necks with cap sleeves to replace my “worn out” T-shirts. They weren’t that different from my old ones, I told myself, and I even wore the underpants. Linda was right, nobody could see them, so what’s to worry about. I smiled when I thought about how smooth they felt but telling myself they were just fancy cloth.

As the days passed the more time I spent in the sewing room the more cheerful Linda became, and the more positive attention I got. It was nice being close to my aunt although I couldn’t help thinking how strange things had become.

One night Linda had me take a dinner tray out to Bill in back. His bottle was half empty and maybe his eyes were failing because he said, “Ah, Marlene you’re back. Heard about you being gone.”

“No,” I said “I’m her cousin.”

“Can’t tell the difference. You’re just as pretty as she is,” and stuffed a dollar in my jeans. “She always wears cute little dresses. Girls in dresses are real girls. Don’t you forget it,” he said taking another nip from the Southern Comfort by his chair. “Next time you wear something nice and I’ll give you a five.” I didn’t argue with him but I wasn’t going to come back in no dress.

Back inside the house I saw Linda in the parlor talking to Sandy. They must have just finished because Sandy waved and dashed out the door before I could get there.

“Kirk, Sandy needs another room for an office and she’s willing to pay a lot.” Linda paused, then timidly asked “Would you mind terribly moving out of your room? You can have Marlene’s. We really need the money. ”

I thought about the ruffles, clothes and toys. “What about Marlene’s things?” I asked.

Linda smiled sweetly. “Well, for awhile I’d like to leave them there. She’ll be back soon.”

“Why not?” I said, and rolled my eyes. I almost told her Marlene is back, though I didn’t know how Linda would take it if I said anything. So we spent an hour packing my things into boxes which we left unopened and stacked in a corner of Marlene’s room.

“Until we unpack your boxes you can go ahead with wearing her things. I’m sure she won’t mind (giggle). She always thought of you as her twin. I’ll leave a few items out just in case.” She picked out jeans, colorful sweaters and ankle socks. From the closet floor she tossed out sandals and polka dot tennis shoes. Déjá  vu all over again, as they say.

“Oh, here’s a cute little sun dress. It’s starting to get warm, so you might feel cooler in that if we get a really hot day. Her nightie is on the back of the door and slippers are under the bed.”

Was I turning into Alice in Wonderland complete with pinafore? The evidence was mounting.

I stripped off my jeans, scoop-necked top and lacy underpants and pulled Marlene’s nightie over my head. It did feel cooler than my pajama suit. Linda kissed me saying “Good night precious.” Susie and Growl nestled with me under the covers.

What was going to come of all this? Would I have anything to say about it? Very little it seemed.

The next morning I looked up from bed. A girl’s world, I thought. Trailing soft fabric across the room I pulled out a pair of Marlene’s hip hugger panties. The sun dress was still there. What would it be like? This one was sleeveless and pink with ruffles at the shoulders and hem. I held it up to the mirror and turned back and forth with serious intent. I realized what I was doing and placed it down again. Then I picked out a white short-sleeved shirt except the buttons were backward. When I looked in the mirror I saw the collar was round and the sleeves kind of puffy. I shrugged and stepped into my old jeans. Marlene’s sandals were tight but o.k. I lightly brushed my hair and Marlene looked at me from the mirror. Did she just wink?

“Excuse me, Kirk , I forgot some of your things.” Linda burst into the room with another box that she dumped in the corner. “Oh, don’t you look sweet! Sometimes I need a model for the girls’ wear I make and you could be one. You don’t have to say anything now.” She was babbling away with her new and surprising energy and I felt glad for her because she seemed better although a bit nutty.

“You know, you look so much like Marlene I almost called you by her name (giggle). Your hair’s getting so long now. Let me brush it again. On second thought let’s go to the bathroom again.”

Humming as she rewashed my hair she parted it down the middle again. Near the front she held the hair between her fingers and commenced to snip straight across. Reaching into a drawer she clipped rollers around the bottom and sprayed them with something unknowable. After a half hour under the dryer she brushed it out, trimmed a few spots and tied it into curly angel wings with green ribbons. More eyebrows fell and I didn’t wince this time.

In the mirror my auburn hair glowed, my bangs were wispy and curled and my brows were noticeably shaped and lightly penciled. At a distance no one would have mistaken me for anyone except Marlene.

“Aunt Linda, why do I have to have bangs? And these stupid wings?” I jerked at the bouncing appendages.

She slapped my hand away saying “Oh, I just wanted to try them. Marlene never wanted any. Besides lots of boys wear bangs.” Not many I ever saw, I muttered.

“Sit still, now.” She found a tube of lipstick and with one finger rubbed a little on my lips. A mascara brush darkened my lashes.

“You’re such a darling. It’s like Marlene never left. My nephew and little girl are all rolled into one (giggle).” She took me on her lap and gave me a big hug.

Later I had to take a load of dirty clothes downstairs to the washer which meant going through the kitchen. I heard Mattie in there cleaning up and almost turned around but she spotted me.

“Marlene, you back?” She crossed herself, looked harder and recognized Kirk in a girl’s blouse, jeans, bangs, angel wings and ribbons. “Boy, you look jus’ lak’ you cousin. Fo’ minnit I thought you was a haint.”

I hadn’t seen Mattie for weeks and wasn’t ready for her to see me like this. I tried to get by without saying anything but she wouldn’t have it. She set my load on the table, grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me into a chair.

Lamely I explained. “My Aunt says my old clothes are worn out and I have to wear Marlene’s things until we get new ones.” I kept looking at the floor, but she lifted my chin with both hands and saw the lipstick.

“You an’ auntie bein’ changed by this house. An’ you is turnin’ into yo’ pretty cousin. Jes’ you be careful, hear. You talk to me any time.” She gave me a hug and crossed herself.

While she was putting away the dishes Mattie remembered something like this happening to one of her boy cousins a long time ago. Anyway that’s what granma told her and her little sister one night while they were getting ready for bed. Mattie never knew what to make of granma half the time. Now here it was again.

As she wiped the sink she thought she heard children playing again. They seemed closer this time. With the fingers of both hands she formed a warding off sign. Turning slowly she held her hands up to the four points of the compass one by one, then took her coat and purse and left.

After lunch I watched Sandy and a young guy move boxes of computer parts from his car to my old room. I didn’t say anything because I hadn’t mixed with anybody except my aunt and the few people who lived in or worked at the building. Mostly nobody came by except for Linda’s customers. The few who did see me wondered who I was. “Don’t you remember Marlene’s cousin?” Linda would reply. Then they remembered me as the “twin girl” from the party.

Sandy smiled sweetly as she breezed by with armloads of wires and gadgets. As I watched they quickly assembled a suite of work furniture and plugged together a large PC and printer. Apparently finished she grabbed the fellow by one hand and pulled him into her bedroom where they stayed for the rest of the day.

At dinner Linda reminded me to take out Bill’s tray again.

“Aw, Marlene, you didn’t wear a dress, but here’s a dollar anyhow.” He shoved the bill in my jeans pocket. “I’ll give you another if you sit on my lap. You used to do it all the time.” I looked doubtful and he lifted me up under my arms and it felt funny with him pulling me close.

“It’s not often an old geezer gets a pretty thing on his lap. I used to have lots of girls on my lap at the office. In night clubs we put dollar bills down their panties.” His hand landed on my jeans-covered knee.

“I have to go, Bill. Where’s my dollar?” I demanded with a big smile. If Marlene could be bossy I could too. Where did that come from?

I told Linda about it and she laughed. “He does that to Marlene all the time. He’s harmless, I think.” I didn’t tell her about the night club girls. We watched TV until bedtime.

Upstairs Linda said “Your pajamas are still packed away in those boxes, so just wear Marlene’s nightie again. And you’ll have to do better about your room, young lady. Oops, sorry, Kirk, that’s what I used to say to Marlene (giggle).”

After she brushed my hair I obediently shuffled down the hall to brush my teeth as the see-through nylon floated behind. Looking in the mirror I saw Marlene’s little nose, freckles, bangs and thin eyebrows. Traces of red remained on my lips no matter how hard I tried to rub it off.

I wasn’t taking her place!

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To Be Continued...

As Miss C. praised Emma’s re-mastery of basic functions Kirk too began feeling better about himself. His new life as a young woman was not so bad, he thought. It was getting harder to remember his old life.

TWINS by Marie Part 7 Emma.2
by Marie C.

Linda’s bedroom, a guest room in Emma’s time, would be converted to an upstairs parlor and storage space for the duration of the girls’ training. Emma was, ironically, given Kirk ’s old room. As she unpacked her few belongings and changed clothes she stopped to look at herself nude in the full length mirror. Kirk was spellbound as Emma lazily ran her fingers through her waist length hair, touched her breasts, felt the firm curves of her waist, hips and legs and lightly brushed the sensitive place between her legs. Emma liked what she saw. “All grown up” as mama said. Exploring herself like this was naughty she knew but it was one of her favorite private activities. She was proud of her body and now of her good fortune.

In 1908 Emma’s figure was “voluptuous.” She had full, firm breasts, a narrow waist and solid hips. Had she lived in Paris she could have been a model for the firm-bodied young women depicted in the art nouveau posters of Alphonse Mucha. If she lived a century later she would fret if she came late to a session of Weight Watchers.

Trapped inside Emma Kirk experienced a fully-developed girl’s body in ways he never would as a boy. Emma’s emotions of womanly pride and girlish pleasure warred with his father’s concept of macho masculinity. Kirk felt more confused and frightened than ever. He desperately wanted out and still couldn’t leave.

Emma sensed Kirk’s protests as she would many times. She couldn’t explain them and over the weeks would learn to ignore them. Besides she had a grand-aunt who said she heard voices. Maybe it runs in the family, she wondered. At any rate she looked forward to her new opportunity and was determined not to let anything like funny, squeaky voices interfere.

Miss Carradine arrived two days later promptly at noon. Without fanfare she took up residence in the back bedroom occupied by Sandy a century later. Emma was instructed to report upstairs at seven a.m. the next day in her best shirtwaist and dark skirt.

As she put on her only rather threadbare outfit Emma felt nervous and excited. “Well, here I go,” she murmured. Trembling inside she knocked on the door. She was determined to do her best nagged as she was by a sense of having little to offer.

Miss Carradine looked formidable in her gray upswept pompadour. She was tall and rigidly erect. Her long-sleeved frock was dark, relieved only by a high lace collar and single cameo. Her expression was stern as though smiling was difficult. Emma wondered if her corset hurt.

The woman explained that Emma would need all new clothes to carry out her new duties and deftly took her measurements. “You have a fine young woman’s figure, Emma. In time you will make an excellent wife and mother.” Kirk became alarmed at references to “wife and mother.” “I’m a boy,” he wailed into the neurons of Emma’s brain. She vaguely heard Kirk’s voiceless protests which sounded far away. So she closed her eyes, clenched her fists and willed them to stop, which they did.

Miss Carradine noticed Emma’s momentary rigidity but put it down to the girl’s anxiety. She went on. “Your measurements will be posted to the couturiers and new garments will come in two weeks. In the meantime your curriculum will consist of deportment, diction, reading, handwriting and sums.” Unexpectedly she snapped “Please stand in front of the mirror with your hands together behind your back, now!”

The woman paced around Emma with a critical eye using both hands to pull Emma’s shoulders back and push her stomach in. “Now hold that position, look yourself in the eye and say ‘I am a handsome, competent young woman,’ then curtsy.”

Kirk continued his silent protest, “No, I won’t, I’m not a girl.” This time he had some effect on Emma because she faltered, recovered, repeated the sentence in a quavering voice and curtsied in a lopsided manner. It was hard for Emma to look herself in the eye anyway. She never thought she was attractive except maybe during her secret mirror sessions. Mostly she saw herself as a plain girl doomed to a life of cleaning up after others.

The woman interpreted Emma’s hesitation as normal for a country girl and not someone who might be hearing voices. “As I suspected, you need practice. Keep your back straight and repeat the exercise.” Kirk found himself as part of Emma unwillingly duplicating the phrase and movements which ended only after fifty repetitions.

During the entire session Miss Carradine tapped her cane in time to Emma’s speech like a metronome frequently interrupting her with a sharp word about this or that detail. By the last curtsey neither Kirk or Emma hesitated. Miss Carradine had begun the process that would permanently change Emma’s self-image and, unknowingly, Kirk’s. Emma’s training in walking, sitting and moving gracefully proceeded forthwith.

Schooling began each morning at 5:30. Miss Carradine literally stood over Emma as she went through each step of getting ready for the day. Kirk found himself awakened personally by Miss C, led to a dresser with water pitcher and bowl (cold water!) and instructed how to scrub with wash cloth and towel. He learned how to put Emma’s hair up in the large pompadour popular in her time, get dressed, prepare for bed at night and organize a skin and hair care regimen as though Emma had never done any such thing.

Three times a week Kirk as Emma was taken in her dressing gown and instructed how to bathe properly. All through the bath Miss C. stared down at Kirk as he sat in the bath and learned how to wash himself as Emma. It was embarrassing and frightening but Miss Carradine always kept to the task at hand until Emma had it right, no more, no less.

In separate sessions Abigail was subjected to Miss Carradine’s ministrations and the two girls sometimes commiserated in secret which was not often since Miss Carradine was always nearby. Both were taught how to use the newly installed water closet so that garments were not soiled or wet in the process of elimination. Once again Miss Carradine rode herd over Emma like she was a two-year old while she sat on the stool and Kirk learned how girls go to the bathroom in a proper manner.

Emma was a quick learner and to her relief Miss Carradine’s supervision was reduced to spot checks and eventually none at all. As Miss C. praised Emma’s re-mastery of basic functions Kirk too began feeling better about himself. His new life as a young woman was not so bad, he thought. It was getting harder to remember his old life.

The women of 1908 did not use makeup which made some things easier. However skin oils, light powder and eyebrow shaping were common. Kirk painfully learned to pluck eyebrows, scrub hands, elbows and knees with a stiff brush, trim, file Emma’s nails to fine ovals and laboriously stroke her hair one hundred times a night regardless of how well or badly the day had gone.

In time Emma’s hair grew even longer and more lush. Her body lost the fat and coarseness acquired as a scullery maid. His, no her, skin glowed and her hands became delicate and elongated. Slowly Kirk changed into a willing participant in Emma’s secret self-admiration sessions. Emma’s body was his body, his bony boy’s frame now in the dim past.

Women’s wear was more complicated than it would be a hundred years later. Kirk found that he first had to pull a chemise over Emma’s bare bosom. ( Inwardly he reddened as Emma’s hands brushed the sensitive parts.) Then to Emma’s (and Kirk’s) dismay a corset followed with Miss Carradine wrapping and cinching until Emma was in tears.

“It’s what you must do to be a lady,” declared Miss Carradine. Kirk’s protests over the corset caused Emma to flinch and interrupt the lacing. (Interruptions, deliberate or involuntary, elicited five swats with Miss C’s cane.) Emma could hardly breathe as she rolled stockings up her legs and attached them to elastic suspenders. Kirk was in agony as he stepped into a pair of linen knee-length drawers which required bending over to tie at the top and bottoms with drawstrings. Underwear was complete when Kirk pulled a nainsook camisole over the corset.

A pair of black high-laced shoes with small heels came next (another misery requiring him/her to bend over), then petticoats of which there would be four. Outer wear included a delicately pleated long sleeved white shirtwaist and a wool skirt, nearly floor length. Emma didn’t see how she could walk and Kirk felt like a wrapped mummy. However both personalities were acutely aware that protest brought punishments worse than any discomfort rendered by their wardrobe.

The arrival of new clothes brought a repetition of all earlier lessons. This time Kirk learned how to walk and sit tightly corseted, back and forth, back and forth, then the same with books on Emma’s head, placement of hands on hips and the graceful movement of arms, all ably accomplished under threat of the cane.

Diction lessons emphasized the enunciation of each word using broad vowels, the deletion of common-sounding nasals and elimination of awkward facial and hand expressions. Kirk was drilled daily to substitute graceful, feminine hand and body movements for the large muscle activity Emma needed to wash and hang out wet clothes.

As instruction proceeded Miss C’s use of the cane intensified. Every mistake, no matter how insignificant was punished by at least one swat. When Emma dropped a practice tray scattering dishes all over the floor Miss Carradine ordered her to bend over the table, lift her skirt, petticoats and drop her drawers. She proceeded to give the girl ten swats on her bare bottom. Afterward Emma/Kirk was required to wipe her eyes, adjust her skirts, thank Miss Carradine and curtsey. Emma was further instructed to stop whatever she was doing and cooperate in punishment whenever ordered to do so. As Kirk and Emma soon found out Miss Carradine’s cane was ten times worse than Mrs. Blair’s switch.

Reader, please remember that Kirk was just an undersized boy about the same age as Emma with an unformed outlook on life and unwillingly snatched from familiar surroundings. What little resistance he could muster rapidly broke down under Miss Carradine’s relentless demands until the time came when there was none.

For Emma the training was less onerous although just as uncomfortable. Contrary to Kirk’s view she knew that Miss Carradine’s lessons were her only way out of a life of drudgery. As she became more determined she became skilled at mentally suppressing Kirk ’s protests, still having no explanation for them. What emerged from all this was a double female personality with Emma dominant.

Exercises in reading and sums went easily because Kirk was already proficient. It turned out that when Emma became confused or was confronted with something as alien as reading or math the part of her that was Kirk took over. Miss Carradine was pleased and impressed with Emma’s academic performance - and mystified. She knew the girl had no formal education save what her mother and sisters could pass on. When asked how she do all these things Emma had no answer. Reading and doing sums were just there, although she vaguely remembered a time when she couldn’t. As a practical matter Miss Carradine let the mystery drop.

Emma’s determination and unlikely skills piqued Miss C’s interest and she resolved to provide extra opportunities for the girl wherever possible. Like Mrs. Blair she had become fond of the girl, one of the few times in her career she ever allowed herself an emotional attachment to a pupil.

So, at the end of three months Emma was surprised to hear Miss Carradine announce, “I am very pleased with your progress Emma, and have therefore arranged for you to spend two months in San Francisco at one of the city’s leading couturiers. There you shall learn fashions, their management and values. I have contacted my old colleague, Madame Constance LaFarge, who has agreed to take you on. Unfortunately I need more time with Miss Abigail than I anticipated.” In a gesture entirely out of character she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

She concluded with “Emma, you are now ready to work on your own.” For the first time ever she gave the girl a hug, a peck on the cheek and actually smiled. Emma didn’t know what was a couturier.

Turning he saw a young dark-haired girl in the full length mirror with bangs and angel wings. Not Emma. His mouth opened in surprise and he touched himself all over the way Emma did and lifted the gown to chest level. A boy’s scrawny body with long hair and a bewildered face!

TWINS by Marie
Part 9 - Shock
by Marie C.

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“Kirk honey, it’s time to get up.”

The sweet voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel. He rolled over and a long negligee tangled his legs like a living thing. Another turn brought curtains and vanity into view. Through a window he saw sunlight on a range of low hills across a narrow valley. They looked familiar. In the high branches of a tree two squirrels chased one another back and forth.

“Abby’s room,”he murmured in surprise. Groggily he sat up and dangled his feet over the side, the negligee sliding up over his knees. Embarrassed he pulled his knees together and pushed the cloth down.

“Where did I get a silk nightgown?” He remembered going to bed in the room across the hall. Closing his eyes he watched elegant frocks at Madame’s drift by in a mist. Teary farewells to Miss Carradine. Boxes of Abby’s new shirtwaists and skirts arriving from San Francisco by buckboard. Panic.

“I have to unpack Abby’s new things. She’ll be furious if she finds me here - and in her nightgown!”

He peered at the nightie a second time. Abby never had one like this, at least none that he knew about, and he knew every stitch of her wardrobe. Besides there never was a fabric like this at Madame’s. Shakily he stood up and looked around. The negligee dropped to ankle length and the room looked terribly different. No camisoles, corsets, petticoats or dress boxes. His and Marlene’s clothes lay helter skelter. Dusty cardboard cartons and sports knickknacks stood heaped in a corner.

The voice called again. Turning he saw a young dark-haired girl in the full length mirror with bangs and angel wings. Not Emma. His mouth opened in surprise and he touched himself all over the way Emma did. Lifting the gown to chest level he saw a boy’s scrawny body! With a head of long hair and a bewildered face!

Turning, away he stumbled in the clutter and the room began to twist. He reached for the bed but before he could climb back on he doubled up, fell on the thick white rug and vomited. Linda found him there semiconscious, annoyed that he hadn’t answered.

When he came to his aunt was sitting at the far end of the bed with a concerned look. A man, a doctor Kirk realized, held his wrist with one hand and a watch in the other. There was a thermometer in Kirk’s mouth which the man took out as he watched.

“His temperature is 102, but everything else is normal. You say he’s never had anything like this before.”

“No, he’s usually very healthy.”

“How’s the tummy Kirk ?”

“Yucky,” Kirk mumbled.

“Well, I think you’re going to be o.k. There’s a nasty flu bug going around.” He looked at his watch. “Anyhow I have to get back to the office.”

He nodded at Linda. “We need to talk.”

As they closed the door he said, “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. I’d guess he’s been under a lot of stress with the loss of his parents.” Linda had told him about the deaths of her brother and sister-in-law.

“Call me in three days and let me know how he’s doing. Put him on a bland diet like rice, potatoes and warm milk. Keep him in bed as long as he can stand it. The nausea should clear up pretty quick.”

Then he frowned. “Mrs. Sullivan, I do not approve of his wearing a girl’s nightgown or staying in a girl’s room. A boy’s surroundings would help quite a bit. Please get him a haircut.”

Lamely Linda explained that he had to change rooms in a hurry and they hadn’t been able to get things arranged properly. She thanked the doctor for coming and promised to take care of everything right away.

Kirk was sick to his stomach every morning for days after. Although his temperature dropped overnight his arms and legs continued to feel like lead weights. Moving around was possible, but only just, like trying to swim in thick jelly. He couldn’t help feeling something important was missing, that he had a job of some kind somewhere but just exactly what it was he couldn’t recall. Bits and pieces of memories kept eluding him - young women, the name Emma, a store. Whenever he tried make things come clear he felt dizzy though he was certain about who he was - Kirk, a thirteen year old boy who had come to live with his aunt after his parents died. He started to cry on his pillow, frightened and grief-stricken.

Seeing him helpless in bed Linda couldn’t resist wrapping him in a pink quilted bed jacket with white lace collar and cuffs. The head of his bed was turned into a heap of feminine ruffled shams with Susie and Growl tucked in for company. She brushed his hair, pinned in matching ribbons and painted his fingernails. He looked so cute, and besides, he wasn’t complaining like he had been.

She dug out Marlene’s baby bottles and hand fed the boy warm milk. Using a bottle would keep him from spilling it, she thought. She read him Winnie the Pooh, Wind In the Willows and fairy tales about Cinderella, Rapunzel and Snow White. It was just like when Marlene was sick. She would worry about the doctor later. Besides, it wasn’t his business what Kirk wore.

By the fourth day Kirk’s nausea had disappeared and his temperature was back to normal. Inexplicably the weakness and confusion lingered. Linda was still concerned but called the doctor anyway to say Kirk ’s symptoms were gone. Anyhow, she didn’t want the doctor to see Kirk looking so adorable.

“Well, let me know if it happens again,” the man said. “If it does, he’ll have to come in for tests. In the meantime please, please take my advice about his attire.”

Linda smiled.

That night he awoke to the sound of clothes hangers being moved back and forth in the closet. Marlene was back. “How did you like being Emma?” She made it sound like the most casual sort of thing, something that happened to everyone. Kirk’s existence as Emma came back in a rush and Marlene grinned.

Five months of Emma’s life in one night because of Marlene, he realized with mixed feelings. “Because of you I’ve been sick for days.” He lay there still charmingly decked out in pink and white, his lower lip in a pretty pout. But he’d been tricked by Marlene and her friends, if you could call them that. He was righteously pissed and said so.

Unperturbed Marlene sat on the bed adjusting his ribbons and brushing his hair like Linda did. “Here, be a good girl and take your bottle.” She shoved the nipple in his mouth while he fumed albeit weakly.

At the mirror she preened in a fluffy dress. “I think you’ll look good in this one. You have to wear dresses all the time now because we’re getting rid of your old things,” she said indifferent to anything he might have to contribute. She pulled out a floral Orphan Annie dress with a round collar and short sleeves with white cuffs. Or maybe it was one of Shirley Temple’s old costumes.

With considerable effort he pulled the bottle out of his mouth. “I don’t have to and I won’t.” After five months as Emma angry boy Kirk was reasserting himself and doing his best to erect mental fortifications against Marlene and his aunt.

“Well, if you’re going to be a girl you do have to. I had to wear short skirts, so you do too. Nyah, nyah, nyah!” She mimicked him sticking out her chin and pulled two more frocks off the rack. “Remember?” she said looking down triumphantly and making eye contact. “You liked being Emma.”

He woke in the morning to find Linda moving around in the room. “How do you feel honey?”

“O.K., I guess. Still wobbly but it’s not so bad.”

“Well, today I want you to wear one of Marlene’s dresses. It’s going to be hot and the lightweight fabric will keep you cool.” She pulled out the short dress. The early morning air temperature was palpably warm. It would be a scorcher by noon.

Kirk folded his arms in attempted defiance. “I won’t wear dresses. You can’t make me! I heard the doctor.”

Linda’s anger sparked and she did something then that she had done only once with a child. She grabbed the boy by one arm, pulled him over her lap, lifted the gown and smacked him hard on his bare butt several times. “Yes - you - will!”

The physical weakness robbed Kirk of any ability to resist and he began crying. When Linda was done something in his memory clicked - Miss C.’s canings. He rubbed his eyes and curtsied. “Yes, Aunt Linda, thank you. I’ll be good.”

He stood there with tears on his cheeks as Linda took out fluffy pink briefs and proceeded to dress him like a big doll. “Lift your footsies” she chirped as he stepped into a new pair of nearly gossamer panties. He sat making a hearty attempt to look glum as she tugged on the pink anklets and glossy Mary Janes. “Just like the party,” he thought. When he was Emma at least he got to be a big girl.

“Stand up now and raise your arms.” She wrapped a training bra around his chest and dropped a short nylon slip over his head. The dress came last. “Arms down,” and proceeded to button the back and tie the sash with a big bow. She wiped his tears with an embroidered hanky.

At the vanity his hair was rearranged into angel wings and tied with pink ribbons on both sides. “Now check your hem. Keep your legs together and turn from side to side.”

In the mirror he saw little girl Kirk pulling at the hem of a dress that came to just below his crotch. “It’s short. Why does it have to be so darn short!”

“Marlene wore short skirts for years.” Linda replied patiently. “That’s how she learned to sit and walk like a girl. You still have a ways to go.”

If Kirk was surprised by the spanking so was Linda. Years ago she put Marlene over her knee one time when she was really bratty and felt terrible for days. “This is different,” she thought. “I’ll paddle him if I have to, doctor or no doctor.” Her pang of guilt this time was short-lived. If she had looked in the mirror just then she would have been astonished at the hard look on her face. Others would have noticed how often her moods changed.

José walked by the window and saw what he thought was Marlene. He was not a devout man but couldn’t help crossing himself. Something was odd though, something he couldn’t put a finger on. He went back to clearing brush wondering if the girl had returned. He hadn’t seen Kirk for weeks.

After breakfast Linda and Kirk went through the cardboard boxes and souvenirs, separating out the things to save - photos of his parents, his father’s medals, letters etc. “I’ll put your mother’s jewelry in Marlene’s chest. You’ll need it someday. Otherwise everything goes to the Goodwill.”

Kirk started to object but under Linda’s stern glance he nodded, “Yes, Aunt Linda.” She held him on her lap for awhile rocking him and said “We’ll go shopping soon and get you some new things. If you’re good I’ll buy something more grown up.” She kissed the top of his head.

When the truck came that afternoon he was told to lead the men upstairs. He still felt embarrassed about his peeping underpants and self-consciously held the hem down with both hands while they followed him up the stairs. He flashed back to Marlene’s party when the girls gave him such a hard time. Dejectedly he watched while they took away his old things box by box. Handing Linda a receipt one of the men remarked “You’re lucky to have such a little cutie.” He winked and tickled Kirk under the chin while the boy tried to squirm away.

Besides getting rid of Kirk’s boxes Linda had gone through Marlene’s clothes and deliberately included the girl’s jeans and shorts. Kirk would have no access to pants for the time being. He was going to be as girlie as she could make him. Oddly the idea made her feel upbeat, more than she had been for months. She wondered where the pizzazz was coming from and got no answer.

At the mirror Kirk examined himself for the millionth time and thought back to Emma’s secret nudity sessions. The lovely dream was gradually returning in detail since Marlene’s visit, interspersed by frequent spasms of doubt. It seemed as though every time he protested whatever energy he had would drain away.

The next morning Linda bounced in bubbling away. “We’re going to town and find some new things, so put on your nicest dress.” Kirk realized what he was going to wear in public.

“I’m not going out in that short dress. Please don’t make me, Aunt Linda.” He remembered pleading with his father.

Linda was better prepared this time. She brandished a ruler she had been carrying, smacking it into the palm of her hand. The barest hint of coercion should work, she thought. For a moment Kirk thought he saw Miss Carradine standing there switch in hand, then blinked only to see his aunt with her grim expression. “Yes, Aunt Linda. I’ll be good and go shopping with you. ”It was becoming an automatic reply, the result of five months training.

Linda gave him a hug saying “I don’t like spanking you but I want you to be my little girl for awhile. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Aunt Linda. I’ll be your little girl.” The words came easier than expected. He once again remembered the poised young woman of voluptuous body he had been. But for some reason Linda had taken a liking to these stupid baby clothes. Frowning in the mirror he looked like an older girl dressed as a kindergartner, especially with those dumb angel wings.

Arriving at the Terra Linda mall Linda gripped his arm as though he might attempt an escape, though if anything Kirk was totally cowed by his aunt’s determination and not feeling capable of much rebellion.

At the jewelry island in the main court they were forced to stand in line for several minutes. Two places ahead of them were three girls his age who kept giggling and looking back at Kirk and Linda. He heard one whisper “...she’s such a dweeb in that baby dress.” Two were wearing jeans and cutoffs, the other a jeans miniskirt.

He blushed harder as Linda lifted him onto a stool in front of everyone. It felt like everybody was staring though only a few actually did. The young woman in charge quickly snapped a pair of pearl studs into his ears with the admonition to turn them regularly for a month until they healed. “Then she can wear the smarter styles.” Linda picked three other pairs for later use.

At a girls’ store Linda selected some cotton knee length shifts for warm weather night wear. He carried the gowns and and a pair of slippers in his arms as Linda guided him to the dress racks. Seeing endless rows of girls’ accouterments his tattered masculinity mutinied once again. “I’m a boy. I can’t wear these.” More tears and confusion.

While he was whimpering the girls from the jewelry counter happened to be four rows away. One of them, Melanie, picked up on Kirk’s protests and whispered to the others. A giggle fest ensued and they stopped to watch, now all ears. Eventually Melanie approached Linda genuinely curious. “Is she really a boy?”

Linda’s frustration with Kirk’s defiance had been building up all morning. She intended to get him something a little older so they could go together to the fashion shows. Maybe if the girls did find out about Kirk’s birth gender, it might be a good lesson. She became aware that she sounded like her late brother which puzzled her briefly. “Yes,” she told the girl. “I didn’t want to say anything but since he’s already announced it to the whole store he certainly is.”

With this revelation the other girls came forward like mice smelling cheese. Grace confessed that they dressed up her little brother once but weren’t able to make him look very girlie. No matter what they did he wouldn’t act like one and cried if they made him play with dolls. He insisted on getting out his action figures and caking mud all over his dress. Then her mom came home and put an end to it all.

“He makes a real neat girl.” Judy said taking a close look at Kirk. “But why does he dress like a third grader? Is that the way he looks all the time? Is he going to be a girl when he grows up?” She had seen TV shows about boys and men who had changed themselves into girls, or just liked to dress up, but always in more adult fashions, some rather extreme. Kirk was silently hiding on the other side of Linda, now totally embarrassed.

More questions followed one on top of the other. “Is Kirk his real name?” Melanie had become totally absorbed by the situation. Her question was not hostile.

“Yes, that’s his name but everybody calls him Darlene.” Grace guffawed but the others remained more or less serious.

Not eager for a full-fledged gender gabfest Linda broke in with “I just want Darlene to try a few things and maybe you girls can help. I’m sure he’ll appreciate any suggestions.” She gave them some sizes and styles and the girls scattered in search of things they liked, eager to be a part of something so intriguing.

The banter over Kirk continued in and around a changing booth. Melanie brought over a white lace dress that she had seen. Three pairs of eyes stared as Kirk emerged in a lovely confirmation dress while Linda fixed a veil around his head. Turning to Melanie she said “He’ll look nice in this when she and the other girls go for church confirmation next year.” Melanie raised an eyebrow thinking Linda was sounding kind of spacey though she didn’t say anything.

Once in the pretty new dress and veil it seemed to Kirk like Emma had returned. He was once again posing for Abby in one of Madame’s beautiful gowns, from time to time adopting different positions. He and Mary used to gossip about one particularly lovely wedding gown with a six foot train and he blushed at the memory. Emma always hoped for a chance to try it on but never found the opportunity. Was that Emma in Abbey’s mauve with the three foot train, just across the room? No, it was his imagination. But for just a moment .......

When he stopped moving he looked around in surprise and mild embarrassment. There he was in the girls’ dress shop and oddly, the weakness he’d felt for days was gone. Melanie and her chums were applauding. They had never met a boy like him.

“Oh, honey, you model so well.” Linda was beaming and sounding less screwy. “I almost believed you were a girl. You’ll like the fashion shows we’ll see. In a few weeks we’ll drive over to the city and you can bring your new friends.”

Before Kirk could say anything Melanie said she was going for confirmation next year. Maybe she and Darlene could go together. It completely slipped her mind that Kirk was a boy. Judy said her mom wouldn’t let her take modeling lessons and wondered if Darlene would show her how to walk and pose like that. Grace turned out to be the skeptic. “She’s not a boy. Boys just don’t act like that.”

Relenting from her baby dress punishment Linda picked a yellow sleeveless cotton dress with full skirt and a knee length hem for the warm weather. By the time they were done Kirk had on the new frock, now comfortably long enough, pantyhose, padded bra, sensible white heels, matching purse and a light colored broad-brimmed hat that curved inward framing Kirk’s face. The girls stood in awe, their teasing long since expended and our boy(?) now more or less accepted as one of them. While Linda settled the bill he stood with the girls smoothing his skirt and listening to them babble as they picked through counter bins full of costume jewelry.

“I still don’t think you’re a boy,” Grace said as he turned in the parking lot. “You’re just too pretty and poised. And you really look like your aunt.” Deliberately standing aside she watched as Kirk skillfully maneuvered his new skirt with both hands as he got in the vehicle. Linda drove the girls to their homes not far away before getting their phone numbers. As she and Kirk rode away she glanced at her nephew who for the first time in days seemed radiant.

In the parking lot a rather muscular young man wearing a jeans jacket with torn off sleeves walked by Linda’s Toyota just as Kirk and the girls were getting in. His face was quite noticeable because of a number of large acne scars. His hair was dirty blond, scruffy and longish and had not been washed for several days, probably longer. Pausing several car rows away he watched with an amazed expression as Darlene/Kirk gracefully seated himself smoothing his skirt and maneuvering hose-covered legs through the doorway as though they were one appendage. Excited the man jogged over to his pickup a couple of rows farther along with the intention of following Linda’s car, but by the time his engine started they were gone.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Kirk gradually became aware of Emma’s thoughts. He was “riding around” inside like he did with Marlene. He felt Emma touch and bump into things, lifted her skirts over the mud and thanked our creator for the chance to work inside during the winter. His fingers sewed the rips and tried not to get burned on the hot irons!

TWINS by Marie
Part 6 - Emma.1
by Marie C.

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“Well, look at the sleeping beauty! It’s about time you moved into my room. And now that you’re here it’ll be easier for me to tell you what to do.” She raised an eybrow and said “And you were busy today, weren’t you?”

I groaned and peeked out from under the bed covers. Marlene was back worse than ever and it was the middle of the night. What happened to those few moments of nice-nice the other day when she wanted my help? Yeesh.

She stood at the mirror holding up a peasant blouse and full yellow skirt with precise, businesslike movements. I noticed that the funny light seemed to come from everywhere.

“ Today I watched mom cut your hair and make you up. You teased old Bill, didn’t you (giggle).” She put down the clothes and turned to me. “Come on. You have to get ready and meet some friends of mine.” Peeling off her play dress she snatched away the nightie and moved into me with that buzzing noise. I protested somewhere down inside her, wherever that was, but she paid no attention.

Rummaging through chests and closet she found a tiered nylon petticoat, underwear and sandals. A wide belt, handicraft beads and dangly earrings completed the night’s ensemble. “You have to start wearing a bra. Ask mom if you don’t know what to do.” She twirled back and forth, hands on hips, very much a gypsy tonight.

At the vanity she brushed this, plucked that and flipped away a loose hair. “And my room! Clean it up. I don’t want a boy’s trash heap.” I couldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise.

We stared briefly at the other me lying in fetching disarray, then strode out into the hall and up those strange stairs to the tower. She just turned the door handle and walked in. No key needed. Why was I not surprised?

Seated around a wooden table were twenty or so girls, ages about seven to nineteen. Most held an embroidery hoop or a quilt. Each wore a different costume and looked like the cast for an old movie. Actually for a bunch of old movies! I couldn’t remember them all because Marlene breezed through introductions like a New York tour guide. A few I would definitely remember.

One was named Ana Maria and looked Spanish like Leticia. Another wore a long-sleeved old-timey blouse with a high ruffled collar, ankle-length dark skirt and lace up shoes - Emma. An older girl sported a boyish haircut, short thin dress and a long string of pearls. A small, dark skinned girl who looked Indian (Native American, that is) was dressed in animal skins and a handmade necklace. Unlike the others she held a partially assembled basket.

Some were real scary. I saw light and furniture when I looked through them. With a few I couldn’t tell anybody was there until their outlines moved against the light. Most were solid-appearing. The table was a large, heavy oval with carved legs covered in a coarse white cloth. Odds and ends of sewing or crafts projects lay scattered across its surface.

At the other end of the chamber was a second door made out of heavy hand-chipped planks. It had an iron latch instead of a door knob and huge iron hinges. Its frame and panels were decorated with carved leaves and flowers the way they did it a long time ago. At one side of the room there was a cheerful blaze in a large stone fireplace.

I tried hard to remember what the tower looked like from the outside. When José and I worked in the yard I never saw any chimneys or doors, just a fancy glass window in a weathered oval frame. How could there possibly be a place like this?

The big door stood open and through it I could see another bannister and stairs going down. That same strange light showed through the opening. If anything it was stronger than in the bedroom. Nowhere did I see any lamps. Other than the weird light the room was lit by candles of various sizes, mostly large. As I watched two girls tiptoed in like they were late and quietly took seats. Another soon followed carrying an armload of wood which she put down next to the fire.

Years later I climbed up to the tower with Linda and found an enclosed viewing porch that hadn’t been cleaned in decades. As we were sweeping I found scraps of cloth and pieces of thread mixed with cobwebs and droppings. Linda said they were abandoned mice nests. A tattered basket lay in one corner.

The girl with the pearls was called Clara. “Marlene you look trés chic as always. I see you brought your twin, Kirk. Is that his name?”

How could she see me? I was still inside. Yeesh.

“He’s the first one for a long time,” chirped another. “Boys don’t usually like it here.” A chorus of giggles followed.

Marlene stood at the head of the table obviously well-known to all. She spoke to them in a chipper upbeat voice. “Right now he’s kind of mixed up but you should have seen mom doing his hair and putting him in my clothes. He really likes it more than he’ll say. I got a lot of energy from him the other day and he made mom feel better. Someday he’ll take my place because he’s my twin.”

If you can roll up in a fetal position with your thumb in your mouth inside someone’s mind, that was me.

“Twin, step out and meet the girls.” Marlene moved aside and there I was buck naked. Embarrassed in my bangs and angel wings I moved my hands down to cover my privates.

“He’s not much of a boy,” a girl in a prairie dress tittered.

“No, he isn’t. I wonder how long he will be?” sneered one girl in a tight skirt and sweater which emphasized ample mammaries. “So you wear dresses and makeup,” she jeered. “I bet you really want a pair of these, don’t you?” She lifted the hooters and gave them a jiggle. They really were big, I thought. “Old Bill would give them a workout if you had any.” Light snickering prevailed.

”Billie, stop! That’s not proper language! I thought we were going to be more refined at these meetings.” It was the girl in the long skirt and shirtwaist.

“You’re such a prude, Emma,” was the jeering reply.

“Emma used to work here when she was a girl,” Marlene said to me wherever I was. “It was a long, long time ago.” She ignored white trash girl.“Emma, step into my twin. Maybe he’ll give you some of his energy.”

Emma stared at us with a puzzled look. “What do I do?”

“Watch me.” Marlene stepped in and out again.

I was getting tired of standing there freezing my butt off with icy hands over my thingies. I didn’t want to get mixed up with Emma or anybody for that matter. It was bad enough with Marlene. I was about to say something in protest but Emma moved faster than I expected.

“Emma, don’t be late this morning. You’ll get switched for sure.” It was 5:00 a.m. and dark and wet from a rain that came down in buckets all night. I took a chance, dashed across the yard and up the steps. The oak trees around the house don’t give much cover, so you can get wet even if you’re wrapped in a shawl. Thank heaven it let up.

Andy, our stable hand, put down rough planks for us to walk on. They aren’t all that steady or clean so I have to pay attention and keep my skirts above the mud. Even then I nearly slipped! Mrs. Blair wouldn’t like it if I came in looking like a drowned mouse and would be furious if I dirtied her floor with muddy skirts and shoes. The cottage in back is where I live with Mrs. Silva, the cook, and Mrs. Blair, senior housemaid, my boss and purveyor of punishments.

The ranch owner, Mr. McDougal, lets us eat in the kitchen before we start the day. My job is the washing, ironing and mending of household linen including Mrs. Brown’s and Mrs. Blair’s personal items. If I don’t get each piece done properly and in time I get a switching with my petticoats hiked up. I don’t recommend that at all!

Before I do all of that I have to clean the ashes out of the fireplace and kitchen stove and lay fires for cooking and heating. Then I clean myself off and do the rest of the day’s work! Since Mr. McD. put in a new water closet upstairs and the outhouse next to the servants’ quarters I don’t have to empty chamber pots like some girls I know. Thank heaven.

The hardest part always is washing Andy’s overalls. It takes forever on the washboard and three changes of water to get the horse smell out. Doing the women’s private cloths is another awful job, even my own now that I have my monthly visitor. The new hand crank wringer makes most of the work easier, but I still have to hang wet laundry in the basement and back porch when it rains. It’s a job, believe me, and it never lets up.

Today I had two basketfuls of clean washing, an easier task than most days. Usually I have to pull each item out of the hamper one by one and check carefully for tears and worn spots. It takes all morning, especially if I have to do any mending. Then I carry it all down again to the back porch where we do the ironing. The irons are heated on the kitchen stove and if they’re too hot they scorch the fabric. So I have to be very, very careful or you know what happens. Fancy mending like Miss Abigail’s waists and frocks are sent out. Something else to be thankful for.

During breakfast I listened to Mr. McDougal in the main room reading out loud to Mrs. Silva from the newspaper. The subject was who might be our new President. He thinks Mr. Taft is the best choice. Teddy Roosevelt is backing the man and that’s good enough for our lord and master.

I looked up at the feed store calendar. “January 1908. Thank gosh Christmas is over. They should ban the holidays. Too much work for girls like me. Oh, what am I thinking.” I gobbled my last forkful of potato and brought my plate to the sink for rinsing.

Mr. McDougal continued. “A committee has formed to start a world’s fair in San Francisco. Remarkable. The earthquake and fire were less than two years ago. Several of the big downtown stores have been restored. Hmmm, I’ll have to take Abby to shop for her trousseau.” By this time he was mumbling to no one in particular. I thought about that earthquake. Everything shook for ages. My poor little sister was tumbled right out of bed and cried all day.

Times are good here. Mr. McDougal has the largest dairy in western Marin County and the demand for milk and butter is so big he can’t fill the orders. He says people are moving back to San Francisco by the droves. The house was built by Mr. McD’s father nearly thirty years ago after he made a fortune with an imported herd, whatever that is. Our Mr. McDougal took over when the old man died twenty five years ago.

Unlike the house in Linda’s time the 1908 version had a polished, cared for look. The parlor featured a grand piano and the dining room was dominated by a beautifully inlaid five-leaf mahogany table. There were chairs, Tiffany lamps and stands that would bring a fortune from antique auctions ten decades later. The outside walls and gingerbread were in good repair and freshly painted. It was a cheerful family setting and the house bustled with energy from early morning to late evening.

After I washed my plate I brought my basket upstairs to the room on the left side. That’s where I keep the cap and work pinafore I wear over my winter frock. In summer I wear a thin blouse with three-quarter sleeves and cotton skirt. When it’s really hot I try to sneak by with two petticoats. Last year Mrs. Blair caught me and insisted I wear four “as befits a proper lady.” Miss Abigail has to wear a corset (she’s Mr. McDougal’s daughter) and I don’t, so I give thanks for a few other things. Too many silly rules. Someday girls will get to vote, then you’ll see.

I’m a healthy thirteen year old and developed beyond my years. I look and act more like sixteen or seventeen according to Mrs. Blair.

Kirk gradually became aware of Emma’s thoughts. He was “riding around” inside like he did with Marlene. He felt Emma touch and bump into things, lifted her skirts over the mud and thanked our creator for the chance to work inside during the winter. His fingers sewed the rips and tried not to get burned on the hot irons!

He watched transfixed as Emma did something naughty. As she brought the finished work upstairs she saw one of Miss McDougal’s delicate formal dresses waiting for repair. Emma never had a fancy dress of her own so temptation overcame her better judgment, especially since Miss McDougal was out for the day. She quickly stripped off her work clothes and camisole, struggled into the garment and stood at the mirror. It was a lovely mauve tight-figured, sleeveless low cut evening gown. The train must have been three feet long. Kirk had never seen anything so lavish even in Marlene’s closet. He felt giddy as Emma wrapped herself in the very adult-looking frock.

For the first time he saw a smiling, attractive, physically mature girl in the mirror with a face not much different than Marlene’s except for blond hair and blue eyes. As Emma turned from side to side he saw they were in Marlene’s bedroom. It was even more extravagant than his cousin’s with silk bed covers, lace curtains and white and gold lacquered chests of drawers. The bed had an immense lace canopy with sheer silk drapes that could be drawn all the way around.

Emma was extra careful that day and Miss McDougal’s frock resumed its place without incident. Kirk thought about how grown up he looked in the dress, just like Aunt Linda might have looked. Then he became alarmed at what he was thinking but for the time being could do nothing but bask in Emma’s secret pleasure.

After her chores Emma was surprised when Mrs. Blair called her back downstairs. “Not a moment’s rest,” Emma thought.

She found Mr. McDougal enthroned next to the fire. Strong cigar smoke clouded the air. His thick gray mustache, cravat, vest and heavy watch chain made him look like an English lord, or as close to one as Emma could imagine. Mrs. Blair stood there stiffly hands clasped in front of her apron and watched Emma with a steely eye. Her lips were tightly drawn. Emma thought she looked angry.

Emma curtsied in place, eyes downcast waiting for one or the other to say something. Butterflies tumbled in her stomach and she needed to pee. Had she missed some repair or scorched a shirt? Oh my, they found out about Miss Abigail’s dress! She closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and crossed her fingers.

After a lifetime McDougal looked up and cleared his throat. “Emma, I hear good things about you. Mrs. Blair gives you an outstanding report.”

“Thank you, sir.” Surprise and relief flooded over Emma like a cool waterfall. She curtsied again. When she looked up Mrs. Blair was beaming.

“My Abigail is at an age where she needs to travel about and meet eligible young men. Her brothers are away and cannot help and my Lillian has been gone for four years.” He paused, pinched his eyes and looked out the window.

Emma nodded sympathetically and played with the seams of her skirt, still clueless as to why she had been summoned.

“She will need a companion. We think you can be that girl. Your character is good and you have been unstintingly reliable. You were especially helpful over the holidays. I have talked to Abby and she is willing to test this arrangement if it is suitable to you.”

Emma never expected this.

“If you agree you would live in the house instead of the cottage and be at Miss McDougal’s beck and call as her personal consort. Your salary would increase to seven dollars a week. If things work out it will rise to ten dollars after a year. Emma, would you like to do this?”

Her heart was thumping. “Yes, Mr. McDougal sir, very much so.” She didn’t know whether to faint or shriek. Kirk shared Emma’s excitement. He found that he was liking Emma very much. Better than Marlene!

“Very well. Mrs. Blair will relieve you of your current duties when she finds a replacement. However, you will require special training in deportment to accompany Abigail to better homes in the county and in San Francisco. Your instructor will be a Miss Carradine who was headmistress in an Eastern school. She is very strict. If she does not approve you will go back to your old job. Is that understood? You will not be alone as Abigail requires a certain amount of instruction as well. ”

“Yes, Mr. McDougal.” Emma curtsied and backed out floating on air. When Mrs. Blair saw Emma afterward she gave her a hug with tears in her eyes. “I’m so glad for you. You’ve been like the daughter I never had.”

“At least no more switchings,” Emma thought. She lifted her skirts and dashed for the outhouse.

---

 
To Be Continued...

After I opened the first box my little voice said to make sure everything listed on the invoice was inside. As I read down the list it kept pointing out mistakes over and over. Many items were missing! Not only that the amounts charged did not add up correctly.

TWINS by Marie Part 8 Emma.3
by Marie C.

The day before she left Emma spent an especially long time in front of the mirror admiring her new skirt and shirtwaist. The blouse was delicate and see-through in places with little rosettes scattered over the yoke. Her new figure, posture, elegant hands and self-assurance made her glow with pride. She was completely at home now in a corset and thoroughly convinced of its necessity for life as a modern woman. She felt supremely confident and very grown up although only a singularly determined fourteen.

Kirk, too, loved his new body and the pretty clothes. He loved the way he could walk with tiny steps as though he was floating across the floor. He was so blended with Emma that there were few thoughts of boy Kirk except as something distant. He wondered why he ever objected to being a girl.

The next day Andy drove me to the ferry on the ranch buckboard. What a long dusty, bouncy ride that was! I mean I shouldn’t have bothered at all getting cleaned up. At the dock I was spitting dust and wiping my face with a kerchief until the boat docked. At first I was scared about taking a ride across San Francisco Bay all by myself, but needn’t have worried because a handsome young deck officer stood there with me all the way across the bay. He kept asking where I lived and did I come this way often and I didn’t know what to say.

I felt better when we landed at the Ferry Building and met Madame LaFarge and a girl my age named Millie. Madame L. looked just as formidable as Miss Carradine, but better dressed. However, by now I was used to ironclads and just curtsied with a smile. Madame talked in a funny way that Millie later said was a French accent.

In the Spring of 1908 the San Francisco waterfront was a beehive of dray horses and their huge wagons, smaller wagons, pushcarts and men with loads on their backs, mostly carrying goods of every imaginable kind taken from the windjammers and steam vessels crowding the docks. The rubble from the earthquake and fire two years before had mostly been carried away although the skeletal remains of a few big buildings still stood. Where no reconstruction had started big piles of broken stones and bent reinforcing bars had been pushed to both sides of the street. The cobblestone pavements were covered with horse and pedestrian traffic all the time it seemed and for the first time I saw one of those new motor cars! How exciting!

We rode up Market Street in a new trolley car passing huge crowds going in and out of the beautiful new stores. I marveled at the kinds of people walking by - families with well dressed children, yellow men with long pigtails in strange baggy garments, dark brown men with tightly curled hair dressed like sailors and grimy men pushing handcarts piled with all sorts of things like fruit, clothes and furniture. After we alighted three dusty men with shovels stopped what they were doing to stare as Millie and I walked by. Madame told us to hold our heads up and ignore them. I couldn’t help blushing.

Madame’s shop was on Market Street next to the biggest stores. While it was much smaller it was more elegant. Exquisite gold letters on the window announced Chez LaFarge, Modes Pour Dames et Filles. I didn’t find out 'til later that all it meant was “LaFarge House, Fashions for Women and Girls.” Millie said the fancy language makes customers feel high class.

Inside the front door I saw five women standing perfectly still in graceful positions and wearing the most beautiful frocks, shirtwaists and skirts. I spoke to one and Millie whispered that the woman was just a dummy. I was mortified. Maybe that’s what I should be is a dummy, not a ladies’ companion!

Elegant hats on racks were decorated with ostrich feathers, gauzy materials and pieces of fur. Drawers full of lace camisoles, corset covers and bloomers covered one large wall. A few drawers could only be reached with a special ladder and I wondered how girls kept from showing when they had to climb to the top.

The counters were glass-covered and displayed fine leather boots, gloves and silk stockings. I was stunned by so many wonderful things. The clerks and fitters I met all seemed to be attractive, poised and self assured. I wondered if I would ever measure up. Millie whispered that Madame L. was a very hard boss but fair. If I watched my p’s and q’s I would be all right.

A large room in back was furnished with upholstered chairs, large mirrors, pale wallpaper and lots of gold trim. Only Madame’s best customers were allowed in there where specially made gowns were brought out for approval. Besides the big room there were three smaller fitting rooms to one side of the big room. The whole shop was lit with lovely electric ceiling lamps and a gorgeous chandelier glittered like diamonds in the main salon.

After I got settled in my attic cubbyhole Madame gave me a quick tour showing me where things went and led me eventually to a dismal gray chamber with a single overhead electric bulb. A shipment from New York arrived the day before and needed to be sorted for storage. Without further ado she set me adrift.

After I opened the first box my little voice said to make sure everything listed on the invoice was inside. As I read down the list it kept pointing out mistakes over and over. Many items were missing! Not only that the amounts charged did not add up correctly.

It took a few minutes to get Madame’s attention and she seemed annoyed to have her jeune fille come pestering so soon. She thanked Emma with a tightlipped smile after she taken a close look at the invoices. I was as good as Miss Carradine had promised. Then she pointed across the room to a bigger stack of boxes. I groaned but it turned out all right. I only had to ask the other girls once or twice where things went - and there weren’t any errors on these invoice lists! By then the day was over and I went to my new room to read a love novel by the light of an electric lamp. Madame LaFarge’s maid brought me a light meal when I really wanted to eat a whole horse!

Each morning Madame insisted on lining us up for inspection. Poor Mary was often scolded because her pinafores weren’t clean or her hair was falling down in clumps. Millie and I made her our special project when we heard how her father always came home drunk at night and beat her mother. We made sure she was neat as a pin whenever Madame came by. At lunch we gossiped about the nice clothes, awful customers and the men who stared at us.

After a week I was running back and forth for the fitters like a veteran and making San Francisco’s refined ladies feel like they were getting the red carpet treatment. So far Madame had not said a word of encouragement except the time when I found the mistakes. To say I was frazzled every night was an understatement.

My little voice was a big help all the time because it kept telling me what all the labels said and which numbers went with which things. And it wasn’t a bother like it used to be. When I first heard it it sounded like it wanted to get out which was really strange. But in the past month it’s like it wasn’t there at all. I guess that’s the way it was with my old aunt. But I wasn’t going to worry. There things that needed doing.

Boys and girls often accompanied their mothers to the store. The boys always have to sit outside the fitting rooms with nothing to do but fidget while the girls are allowed in. When Madame found out I was good with children she assigned me to help the clerks with problem situations. I always talked to the children soothingly whereas the parents were often impatient. My assistance seemed to get more things sold.

One day after I had been there two weeks I noticed a boy being led under protest into one of the small fitting rooms. After the door closed I kept hearing noises although I couldn’t make out what was happening and besides, I had plenty to do. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mary bring in girls’ lingerie and what looked like a corset box. The noises continued and finally a clerk called to see if I could help.

Outside I asked Mary what was going on. She giggled that a boy was being fitted for a corset. Well, I had never heard of anything like that and wondered what they expected me to do. As I entered there was a boy of nine or ten with a small corset partly wrapped around his waist although still undone. A woman, apparently his mother, was explaining to Madame that he was being punished for boisterousness at home. Someone told her that corsets help in such situations.

Apparently the woman was very wealthy and a regular customer of Madame’s so Madame had cautioned Mary not to question such an odd request. The mother seemed to go on forever about the problems she was having while the rest of us stood around smiling paiently. When there was a lull I asked if Mary and I could be left alone with the child (whose name was William). We let William cry for awhile and then I explained that by wearing the corset it would make his mother feel better and would not turn him into a girl. Besides no one would see it under his regular clothes. He eventually calmed down and Mary and I got him into the chemise and tightened the corset. He cried as it squeezed but I praised his bravery and he became quiet. The mother was very pleased and Mary and I retreated rolling our eyes and fanning ourselves. “That was an experience,” I said to Mary who readily agreed.

William and the corset woke up the dormant Kirk. “Boys should not have to wear girls clothes!” He seethed remembering the time his father made him go to Marlene’s party and when Aunt Linda made him wear Marlene’s underwear. He mumbled to himself for a while until a calm settled over him induced by Emma who willed her little voice to be quiet. She had learned how to control it back at the ranch when she was in training with Miss C. It was not going to interfere with her future.

Muttering to himself Kirk thought “Well, like Emma said, nobody will see the corset.” The incident faded from their common memory as Emma resumed her regular store duties.

To Emma’s surprise William was brought in again the following week. Apparently his measurements were taken the first time because she saw Mary walk by with a selection of girls underwear and giggling “It’s him again.”

I was called back to the dressing room and there was poor William in his corset, a pair of silk drawers and girls’ black stockings. Several very pretty frocks hung around the room in blue, red and white. They looked like they might fit. The mother was going on again about how William kept refusing to try on one of the dresses. Why couldn’t he see that she was only trying to help. Once again Mary and I asked to be alone with the boy to see what we cold do.

I knelt by William who was still crying. “It’s really best if you just go along with this,” I said quietly. “I don’t think your mother will stop until she thinks you’re behaving. Just let Mary and I try this nice blue one. It won’t hurt this once. We can always take it off.”

My soft words worked again and eventually William calmed down allowing us to lace on a pair of girls’ high shoes, pull a silk slip over his head and button up the fussy garment. We led him to the mirror saying “See, you look fine.” He looked, blushed and held out the hem with one hand.

“Now stand up tall and turn back and forth. Remember, you’ll still be a boy,” Mary said. “Just barely,” I thought.

When the mother came back she was surprised and pleased and gave Mary and I each a silver dollar tip. I pinned a wide-brimmed beribboned girl’s hat to William’s head and the mother marched the hapless lad out to a waiting limousine.

Mary and I helped with William for the next two weeks as new frocks and lingerie were brought to the changing room. He was accepting his punishment now more or less quietly. This last time his hair looked different. Apparently the maid had curled it. “Mummy took away all my reg’lar clothes too,” he sniffled. “And I’m going to have a special nanny.” Emma wondered if the nanny would be like Miss Carrradine. If so what would happen to William?

I said “Don’t cry now. You look very nice,” and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “Your mother will tire of this some day. Just concentrate on being good.” I considered saying how pretty he looked but decided that would just add fuel to the fire. When they left that day William was wearing his new white, frothy birthday dress, white stockings and little slippers with Louis Quinze heels.

Every time the boy came to the store Kirk became upset and started to complain. And each time Emma closed her eyes, clenched her fists and willed the voice to be quiet. In defeat Kirk would mutter something like “Well, he’s not me, now is he? Besides he’s still a boy. ” and retreated into the depths of Emma’s mind without further complaint. He was quite used to being Emma.

At the end of three weeks I knew my way around Madame’s store well enough to assist when she or the fitters asked for a particular item. I was now skimming fashion magazines at Madame’s direction with the help of my little voice. Often I came up with suggestions which made the couturiers and clerks look better than usual to the customers. The following week Madame promoted me to the front desk as a sales clerk’s helper.

One afternoon a young man in a homburg, celluloid collar, cravat and dark suit strode up to the counter asking to see a pair of gloves for a lady. The clerk wasn’t there and as much as I searched she wasn’t to be found. After waiting impatiently he stared at me with piercing eyes and said “You’ll do, Miss. Please show me the gloves there, those in the case.” He pointed.

As I nervously fumbled in the display he asked had I been there long? Would I model the gloves for him? After my demonstration he took both of my hands in his saying they were the loveliest he had ever seen. He kept looking straight in my eyes and I stood there hypnotized. Finally I turned my head away because I was blushing. My heart beat frantically.

Ultimately the clerk came, rescued me and rang up the sale. My face was still flushed as I apologized for usurping her job. She only smiled and said “I owe you the apology. I was momentarily indisposed. By the way, that was young Mr. Crocker from the banking family. The girl who gets him will be lucky indeed.”

When Crocker took Emma’s hands she felt his finger pressure like an electric shock. She never had such an experience with such a determined young man and he stayed in her mind for the whole week. Until she started work at the McDougals and Madame’s Emma rarely had any contact with men except her father who was hardly ever home and rarely had time for his daughters. If Emma was flustered by the encounter Kirk was speechless.

Emma’s work with Madame ended after two months. She had been an excellent helper, Madame said, and was welcome back anytime. Her discovery of the overcharge had led to other “errors” made by the same company and saved Madame a considerable sum. Emma returned to Miss Carradine with an outstanding report.

The dual personality of Emma and Kirk felt more self-confident than ever and had completely forgotten about the incidents with William. She was grown up now, she/they thought, and knew what to say in the presence of wealthy families - and remembered the young man at the store.

Shortly after Emma’s return Miss C. announced that she would shortly leave the ranch for San Francisco to work at the Girls’ High School. She had done as much as she could for her charges. Both girls rode to the ferry with her said their farewells right there on the dock with tears and hugs - and not a little relief!

Emma/Kirk took up her duties with Miss McDougal the next day with poise and grace as she carried in the tea tray. The two girls reminisced for hours over their shared agonies and Emma recited every detail about her exciting time with Madame. She didn’t have to curtsey with Abigail since both girls were on a first-name basis although Emma was well aware that Abigail was her employer. Kirk /Emma now had complete charge of Miss McDougal’s wardrobe including intimate wear and was given authority to call on other staff for heavy work. She preferred doing the repair and ironing of delicate pleats, lace and silk frocks herself even when it involved working well into the evening.

For you readers Miss McDougal herself was a dark haired, attractive young woman about the same size as Emma though at least three years older, rather spoiled and sometimes temperamental. She sang and played the piano very well, having graduated from an exclusive school run by the sisters in San Rafael. Increasingly she was sought for social functions attended by eligible young people and was scheduled for presentation at the county Cotillion in less than two years. Emma’s work was cut out well in advance.

Emma made it a point to read up on the latest styles and became the household fashion expert and was even called on to give advice to other girls in the district. Mr. McD. was gracious enough to let Emma charge for giving that advice so that Emma could claim some savings of her own. She now had the total respect of the family and senior household servants and was deferred to in the selection of women’s (and even Mr. McDougal’s) clothing. Neither Emma or Kirk had such an experience before and both had been changed in ways they would never forget.

Linda came in and recognized the rollers from her cabinet. They looked expertly applied. When she raised an eyebrow Kirk said “I don’t know, Aunt Linda, I had a dream about my hair and here I am.” He saw the blue nightie. It lay on the dresser where Marlene had tossed it.

TWINS by Marie, Part 10 - A New Girl, Almost
by Marie C.

Two days after their visit to the mall Marlene made another nighttime visit. “Yesssss, I like it.” She looked Kirk up and down and made him turn from side to side. I like the slippers and nightie. And mom cut your hair like mine - and got your ears pierced? Yikes!” She moved into Kirk.

“Oooh, I like the nighties. They’re so feely. You do, too, I can tell. And the high heeled slippers!” She was looking at a couple of half open boxes on the dresser and then made a face. “Mom never bought me anything like this. Well, you’re going to pay the price for trying to upstage me. No rest for you, cutie!” She made a smoochy face and put one finger on her cousin’s lips. “And cutie! Don’t think I missed what that man said (giggle).”

It turned out that besides buying the cotton shifts Linda, on a mischievous whim, bought two fancy nylon see-through baby doll nighties with sheer matching jackets and panties - and marabou mid-heel slippers. Something out of a 1950s men’s wet dream.

I was just as surprised and miffed when Marlene brought them out and held them up to her in front of the mirror. What’s happening? is a question which he thought never seems to get a proper answer.

“Let’s try the pink one.” She was full of pep as she chattered away making Kirk slip off the cotton one and slide into the smooth fabric of the baby doll.

At the vanity Marlene practiced their makeup starting very slowly and patiently as though by moving his hands slowly he would catch on more quickly. “You have to learn this, Darlene” as she worked on their eyebrows and lips. “Watch and feel how I do it. You’ll get it.” she encouraged. “My friends have been showing me.”

Stepping into the pink mules she walked him to the bathroom where she took down a box of hair rollers and began instructing Kirk how to put up his hair, rolling each section on the top, sides and back one by one.

“See how oval your face is when your hair is up. Check your eyebrows for stray hairs and keep them curved. Pluck the extra hairs at your hairline to keep the oval. Now a little lipstick and mascara. You feel better already, don’t you?” Before he could answer she went on.

“Leave the rollers in and take them out tomorrow. In the morning brush your curls lightly and always be pretty,” she softly admonished him as though she was noticing his girlishness for the first time. “Now you say it and look in the mirror while you do it.”

Kirk struggled and finally said “Always be pretty.” He stared intently into the mirror at the delicately made up girl. A funny warm feeling started in his stomach and spread through his body.

Marlene went on. “You aren’t pushy like I am so you’re going to be a soft girl. Make sure you please people like Emma did. Guys always like that kind of girl.” Something inside Kirk tried to object but nothing came of it.

In the morning Kirk woke up with makeup on his face and his hair still in rollers. To his surprise he was wearing the pink baby doll. “Always be pretty,” he repeated, then realized things were different. Neither the curlers nor makeup had gone away. And the weakness hadn’t returned.

Linda came in and recognized the rollers from her cabinet. They looked expertly applied. When she raised an eyebrow Kirk said “I don’t know, Aunt Linda, I had a dream about my hair and here I am.” He saw the blue nightie. It lay on the dresser where Marlene had tossed it.

Linda continued to dress him like a doll pleased now that he was doing his own hair. While she was curious about how he knew she wasn’t about to question him for fear her questions might discourage him. She varied his costumes every day. Some days it was a little girl pink or white party dress with ribbons and ruffles. Other times she pulled out Halloween costumes like Bo Peep or hat check girl miniskirts. He came to like the attention and was smacked on the butt only twice more after he stubbornly refused to get dressed for trips to the supermarket. After each spanking he always curtsied and said “I’m sorry, Aunt Linda, I’ll be a good girl.”

During one of those supermarket visits the young man from the mall saw Kirk and Linda again drive off from the roadside market. Keeping his distance he followed them as far as their driveway and then kept going past the house through the square. “I didn’t know she had a sister,” he muttered to himself. He felt a brief moment of panic then leaned back and swigged from the beer can between his legs. Nothing was going to happen, he was sure of that. But he would ask around anyhow.

Marlene returned nightly over the following weeks each time prodding him with “You have to be as girlie as you can for mom so we’re going to practice every night,” and on and on they went without let up. Kirk’s weak protests gradually abated and he began to pay serious attention to the sessions on hair and skin care - with Marlene as his personal overseer.

“Shave your legs, too. You shouldn’t have hair anywhere except on your head. There’s some fuzz,” she said gleefully pointing a spot on the back side of his right leg. She lifted the offending appendage and showed him how to use Linda’s electric razor until his legs were clean and shiny all over. The next day the word ‘soft’ seemed to echo around the house as he stretched his now smoothed legs and rubbed on skin lotion. He woke up every day now with his hair in curlers and face creamed.

Under the combined pressure of Marlene’s nighttime visits and Linda dressing him as a doll Kirk increasingly fell back on Miss Carradine’s training and began to take up life as he and Emma had learned together, or as close as he could get to it nearly a century later. He seemed to have no choice, and, well it wasn’t all that bad.

One day after breakfast Linda asked Kirk to try again in the sewing room, and not without considerable misgivings. She remembered the time her iron hit the floor, so gave him simple items like pillow cases and towels to start with.

Kirk suddenly became Emma again working on linen from the McDougal household. Once he understood the contemporary steam iron mechanism he finished everything in minutes.

Linda looked up from her sewing counter now and then watching her nephew and not quite believing what she saw. Kirk lifted item after item checking for imperfections. Every movement was measured and precise. He stood rigidly erect every inch a self-confident, serious young girl. It was almost like he was somebody completely different, she thought. When she returned from putting away the items he had done she found a pile of finished intimate wear that he had taken from one of her shipments and folded properly. Momentarily he looked up at her startled like maybe Abby should have been there, not Linda.

The next day he volunteered to model the dresses she was working on - without bidding - although in fact the order to do so had come down from Marlene the night before. Linda first put him in a long yellow flower girl dress with his hair up with matching blossoms attached. Each move he made displayed the frock from different points of view that helped Linda decide how well the job was going. She was amazed. Hardly more than a week ago he had been indifferent to the sewing room work and prone to sabotage the tasks she gave him. Today he was dependable and arrestingly girlish.

After lunch they sat out in back and Kirk relaxed, legs tucked under in a winsome pose. Linda listened to his strange dream about Emma. The story of being trained by Miss Carradine and Madame La Farge was incredible. Event after event was described in a soft and puzzled voice, although he purposely left out Marlene’s visits sensing that Linda might get upset. “It all happened in this house.”

Linda hadn’t the foggiest idea what to make of it.

“We had to wear those horrible corsets all the time,” he chattered on. “They were awfully uncomfortable, but after a while Abby and I thought they were great for our figures.” He looked up at Linda smiling. “Do you have a corset? I’d like to try one again and see how it works.”

Linda admitted that she didn’t. Feeling annoyed and puzzled she realized it all made sense if one set store to what he said. But how could she even think something like that? It bordered on the occult about which she had always been profoundly dubious. Warily she led Kirk to a pile of catalogs where they found several listed. “I’ll order one next week so you can try it out.” She fully intended to forget about it wanting to see first where this new Kirk was going.

Over a month’s time Kirk, no Darlene, evolved into the perfect assistant, attentive and indispensable in preparing dresses, blouses and skirts being readied for Linda’s customers. His speech was quiet and his words were accompanied by a winsome smile. He happily performed any chore, even the unpleasant ones and never complained. He had long since given up working outside the building and bustled around doing housework with more energy than Linda’s. He found and corrected the occasional sewing error, learned to anticipate what Linda needed for her jobs and had work materials out on the table before she started each day.

His manner of dress became conservative but distinctly feminine as Linda eased up on his choices. He insisted on white blouses and knee length straight or pleated skirts, and cotton dresses for warm days. For cooler days he added a colorful cardigan sweater or twinset. Every stitch had to be crisp and fresh. If any part of his costume became soiled he changed the whole outfit. For general use he put on knee socks and Mary Janes or ballet flats. He was annoyed by the lack of corsets, petticoats and long skirts because he believed they were more dignified. Shirts and trousers no longer entered his mind as possibilities for daily wear.

His permed hair was now shoulder length. He continued to set it at night with or without Marlene and employed barrettes, bobby pins, hair wraps and scarves to best advantage during the day. Daytime makeup was light and discrete when he wore any at all. He used cotton gloves during work hours and his hands turned soft and slender like Emma’s. His oval nails were lacquered in soft pastels.

Other than the fact he was a young boy who seemed to prefer girl’s clothes Linda could not have wished for a better daughter. He was cheerful, affectionate and undemanding in personal relationships, much more so than her missing offspring. His easy going sarcasm had turned into into a concern for others that Linda had not seen in either Marlene or boy Kirk.

He assumed the care of Linda’s personal wardrobe including intimate wear. More often than not the two dressed and undressed together in the same room as mother and daughter.

His one impudence was bringing dinners to Bill in little girl outfits. Tonight was dinner tray night and Kirk felt mischievous like he wanted to be Marlene this time. He changed into the cherry red dress that he wore to the mall way back when. White knee socks and shiny Mary Janes finished the ensemble. He combed out his bangs, parted Marlene’s curls into angel wings and tied the sections with red ribbons. He made sure his panties were bright pink and fluffy.

Geezer Bill was three sheets to the wind when Kirk pushed through. “You’ve been fooling me. You’re really Marlene.” he croaked, winking at Kirk with a bloodshot, rheumy eye.

Kirk couldn’t resist a mischievous grin. “Yes, I’m really Marlene and I’ve been fooling you all along. But it didn’t work, did it? Now eat your dinner - and I wore my dress! Where’s my five dollars?”

“You won’t get a penny until you sit on my lap.” Bill was practically drooling.

So Kirk slid up on Bill’s knee and let old the old fart put his arm around his waist. He leaned his head against Bill’s shoulder like girls do and his underpants flashed bright pink when he slipped away. Six dollars richer.

The following week Linda brought out a yellow dress like the one she bought for Kirk. She was finally taking him to her monthly fashion show in the city. She insisted on dressing him in padded bra and girdle and he stood there without complaint eying himself critically in the mirror as he added pantyhose and sensible heels. He held his hands over his head while Linda dropped the yellow creation over his head. Gloves, purse and hat were de rigeur this time.

Hearing that he was going to the city he frowned briefly, concerned about being seen in such a public place. This was a big step, bigger than going to the mall. Linda picked up on his facial grimace. “They’re expecting us both, so I want my girl to look her very best. Besides we’re going to be twins!” As they stood there together he noticed for the first time how much he resembled his aunt. He wondered if he would grow up to look like her and it made him feel funny, but not at all bad.

At the show women oohed and aahed over Kirk’s little outfit. One of them asked if Darlene would consider being a model for them sometime. There was a chronic shortage of girls who had even some of the poise Kirk was displaying. That was a surprise and Linda asked if he would consider doing it for her the next time they came over.

Back home Linda produced a surprise, the corset he asked for had come in while they were away. Kirk located a tight fitting camisole in Marlene’s drawers and Linda wrapped the new garment around his middle. It hurt but he insisted on getting fully dressed with the device wrapped around his middle.

From then on Linda had to lace him every day until he could manage on his own. He continued his daily chores dressed that way every day, much as he and Emma had a century before. In two weeks the corset had given him more of a curved waist and becoming posture. Looking at his physical changes he seriously wondered if he wanted to be a girl. He knew he had to be one for Aunt Linda - and besides it was now fun wearing nice things - though they weren’t as nice as the ones he and Emma used to wear.

The following month Linda invited Melanie and Judy to the fashion show. The girls had told their mothers all about Kirk and Linda called to chat with the women. So when Linda honked out front the girls were able to get away without any problem. It turned out the mothers were all professional women in law and medicine, had read or heard about transgender children and were almost as curious as the girls.

The girls marveled at Kirk’s new posture secretly engendered by the corset. Judy squealed “You even shaved your legs!” pointing to Kirk’s rather expensive shiny sheer hose. Melanie remembered back when he looked so dumb in that little girl’s dress and shook her head. Later Kirk couldn’t help telling them about his new corset and took them into the ladies room to show it off. Neither girl had ever seen one.

They had hardly taken their seats when the fashion manager came over to Linda asking if Kirk could model today. One of her junior models had taken ill at the last moment. “There’s nothing complicated about it and no one expects the children to perform like adults.”

His dress was like Linda’s daydream, a brightly floral calf length summer frock with a wide skirt, low neck and flutter cap sleeves. Kirk had worn his padded bra and tan hose which made him look much more grown up than he felt. The woman pinned on a broad brimmed cartwheel summer hat decorated with with a floral scarf to match the dress. Elbow length white gloves and white high heeled sandals completed the costume. The girls thought he was stunning and were green-eyed at his having the chance to model when he wasn’t even a girl! though they weren’t gong to say anything except maybe to their moms and Grace - and maybe everybody else at school. When he went backstage with Linda and his friends he found to his consternation that he would be paired with a handsome lad in a light summer suit.

“Aunt Linda I can’t go out there with a boy,” he whispered. The girls thought the boy was cute, but looked kind of stuck up. “Just be cool,” they advised. Linda replied only with a stern look so Kirk sighed and stood there nervously next to the boy until they were called. Without thinking he reached for the boy’s arm when he heard the name “Darlene” called.

“What’s your name?” the boy whispered into Kirk’s ear somewhat too intimately just before they stepped out on the runway.

“Darlene.” Kirk looked away eyelashes fluttering. Why did I do that he thought.

“Mine’s Eric and I think you’re hot.” The boy moved even closer and Kirk’s tummy churned.

Melanie and Judy looked at each other, their hands covering big grins. Kirk was definitely not acting like a boy. Maybe Grace was right.

Kirk received a bouquet to carry as the couple began two turns along the runway. Eric bowed and Kirk curtsied with a sunny smile. There was general applause and Kirk realized that he liked modeling, but being paired with Eric nagged him. As they walked off stage he naively let Eric lead him behind the curtains. Once there Eric pinned Kirk’s hands behind his back and pushed him against the wall.

“You smell so nice,” Eric said smoothly standing very close. Linda had dabbed on some of her perfume. “Have you ever kissed a boy?” Kirk dumbly shook his head. “Well, I’m going to be your first. This’ll make you into real girl.” Eric took Kirk’s chin with one hand and planted a solid two-lipped kiss on his lips. “You’re great,” he whispered and proceeded to nibble Kirk’s neck and earlobes pressing him harder against the wall. Not knowing what to do Kirk stood there flustered and trying to pull away his hands while Eric did his thing.

Melanie and Judy were on their way backstage to gush over Kirk’s performance and stopped short, eyes and mouths wide open, when they saw Kirk in his clinch with Eric. Kirk finally twisted away totally confused and ran for the protection of his friends. When they got back to their seats the girls were giggling and Kirk was flushed. Linda said Kirk looked beautiful - and wasn’t the boy handsome? With a knowing smile she said “Here honey, let me fix your lipstick.”

At home the girls called their chum, Grace, and described every tiny detail. Grace in her annoying way pontificated, “See I said she was a girl!” But Melanie and Judy weren’t totally convinced having taken Linda and Kirk at their word.

That night Marlene returned and made Kirk tell her every tiny thing that happened with Eric with Kirk sobbing as he talked. Marlene commiserated saying “I know how you feel. Bert used to kiss me in back of the school, pushing me against the wall. He was rough like Eric, but I liked it. And I think you liked Eric’s kiss.” She smiled evilly. “You have to do it again.”

The junior fashion section held two more weekly sessions before it ended for the summer. Linda and Kirk returned both times without Melanie and Judy. The second time Kirk was paired with a boy named Edgar who kept complaining that boys should be able to wear nice clothes like girls. He pursed his lips saying his mother wouldn’t let him wear her high heels even at home. Sometimes when he was alone he sneaked into his sister’s closet when she was away. He didn’t try to kiss Kirk though Kirk thought he wanted to.

The third time Kirk was stuck with Eric again and like before was dragged behind the curtains. This time it was like Marlene was there. Kirk found himself willingly putting his arms around Eric’s neck while Eric pushed him against the wall and this time put his hand under Kirk’s skirt and felt around. The kiss went on and on and Kirk started to squirm while Eric’s hand eventually found its way inside his pantyhose top. When the manager came back to see what was happening a frightened Kirk was manhandled back to Linda. The manager happened to be Eric’s mother.

“I found your girl behind the curtains with my Eric. When I confronted them he told me she lured him there on purpose. We can’t have girls working here with low morals.” She walked away in a huff leaving Kirk in tears attempting to explain things to Linda.

A few weeks later Linda was contacted by her attorney. He had finally reviewed the will made by Kirk ’s family. A clause stipulated that if she legally adopted Kirk his parents’ pensions and trusts would become immediately accessible. In short order Linda became Kirk’s adoptive mother.

Laura gaped at the poised, graceful girl and thought back to the party years ago. Her jaw dropped another inch as she realized who was sitting there. “You don’t mean Kirk ?” Linda nodded while Kirk sat there calmly a picture of teen fashion.

TWINS by Marie, Part 11 - Laura
by Marie C.

Over the months Linda slowly emerged from the terrible grief over the losses of her brother and daughter. As the feminine Kirk blossomed she realized she had been living in one of her self-centered worlds. His assistance with the sewing and house care had taken a huge load from her shoulders and left her the space to heal. Now she was in the boy’s debt for acting as her substitute Marlene and for the help he was giving freely.

But doubts were creeping into her mind. Was she wrong to encourage his crossdressing even when she was overjoyed with her new “daughter?” What about these dreams of his? Maybe he should see a psychologist? Maybe she should see one? On the other hand he was so useful as a girl. A naughty thought, but still she smiled.

She was puzzled by her corporal punishment of Kirk, but could find no answers within herself as to why she did it. Teacher training strongly forbade any such behavior. It was like she had been someone else when she took him over her knee. However Kirk had been so girlish and submissive in recent weeks that the spankings had long since ceased to be necessary - and if Kirk harbored any doubts about his feminine life Linda could see no sign of them.

The big questions loomed. If he continues this way his voice and body will soon become masculinized - and people in the community will see him as bizarre. How will she (It was so easy to think of Kirk as ‘she.’) go to school? How will he fit in with other kids? Will valley residents accept a crossdressed boy?

It never occurred to her to cut his hair and put him back in trousers.

One day José came to the door wanting help with a section of fence. He hadn’t seen Kirk for months and wondered if the boy was still around. When Kirk opened the door José smiled “Marlena, you back!” He asked if Kirk could come hold the fence posts while he poured concrete.

Kirk felt a panic rising because José had never seen him up close as Darlene. Fighting the impulse to run he was relieved to see Linda approaching, however before she could say anything José peered closely at Kirk and realized who “the girl” was.

“Seá±ora Sullivan, thees ees wrong. A boy chood never dress laik a muchacha. It’s against God!” He crossed himself and backed away. “There ees somtheen wrong with thees place. I feel eet a long time. I no work here again.” He tossed his tools in the truck and drove off without even a wave.

Linda understood that José’s reaction was no different than the doctor’s. Kirk would face attitudes like this throughout his life and maybe worse. But she felt terrible. José had been an outstanding handyman and charged well below the going rate. What did he mean “Something wrong with this place?” She wanted to ask what he meant but it was too late.

She needed to start somewhere for Kirk’s sake so invited one of her old acquaintances for an afternoon coffee. Laura was levelheaded and unflappable Linda recalled. She used to help with Marlene’s parties and knew both Kirk and his parents. More important she worked as a medical secretary for the doctor who saw Kirk during that awful flu. Maybe she knew something.

Linda thought the best way would be to have Kirk-as-Darlene serve coffee while she and Laura talked. It might be a bit of a shock but Linda couldn’t think of any uncomplicated way to introduce the subject. She sat down with Kirk (Darlene now, she corrected herself) and explained that they had to think about his future. She talked about the need to find somebody who knew something about crossdressing boys. Could he wear something nice and serve coffee that day?

Kirk surprised her by agreeing readily. He’d been thinking about the same things, he said. This time he didn’t suggest giving up girls’ clothes she noted with some relief. “Now wasn’t that an odd reaction to have,” she thought.

“There was something else I was wondering about, Aunt Linda. Now that you’ve adopted me can I call you mom?” Linda responded with tears pulling Kirk to her. “Yes, honey, you can.” She wanted to say “yes, yes, yes” ad infinitum but settled for a long ten minute hug with the boy (girl?) on her lap.

Since the modeling experience Kirk realized he liked dressing up for special events. He felt confident now as to what he could do with clothes and makeup and looked forward to opportunities where he could make a good impression on other people. For the coffee day he selected lightly padded underwear to go under a knee length red peasant skirt with festive stripes at the hem and a white apron. He could feel the coolness of new nylons on his legs and the lift of heeled sandals. The top he chose was a somewhat see-through white peasant blouse with billowing three quarter sleeves embellished by a simple bead necklace. His hair was carefully brushed back and held in a flat pony tail with hairsticks. A single bangle circled his right wrist and small drop earrings dangled from his ears. He kept his makeup to a minimum with light lipstick and mascara. His nails were pale and unostentatious.

“Marlene wouldn’t like this,” he thought “Well too bad for Miss Super Boss.” He stuck his tongue out at the mirror image. He was developing his own ideas about how girls should look. When Linda saw his outfit she felt he was just right, a young style but well turned out! She realized that Kirk had developed a better sense of what to wear than she ever did. She looked down at her frumpy brown polyester slacks and decided to change.

Laura drove up the dirt drive to the old house curious about Linda’s invitation. Not only was it out of the blue, but Linda had given her no clue as to what it was all about. She hadn't seen her neighbor for at least a year.

“The house looks run down,” she thought looking at the peeling paint and disintegrating woodwork. She felt sorry for Linda because of her personal catastrophes in the past few years, especially with Marlene disappearing like that. If there was anything she could do to help she would certainly try.

In the front parlor Linda had placed a low table between an overstuffed chair and the couch. The room seemed tidy and better cared for in comparison to the outside. Linda looked pale and needy, she thought, nothing like the energetic mom who had spent so many hours with her Gwen patiently tutoring the child with reading and math. Once seated she saw a young girl walk in from the dining room, actually more of a young woman fashionably turned out who placed a tray and cups on the table with the grace of a ballet dancer.

Laura’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know Marlene was back.”

Linda pinched her eyes for a moment while Kirk sat next to his aunt, carefully arranged his skirt and took Linda’s hand in both of his. “No, she’s not. You remember Darlene, Marlene’s cousin?”

Laura gaped at the poised, graceful girl and thought back to the party years ago. Her jaw dropped another inch as she realized who was sitting there. “You don’t mean Kirk ?” Linda nodded while Kirk sat there calmly a picture of teen fashion.

“It’s nice to see you again, Laura.” He affected a winsome pose still holding Linda’s hand.

“God what a pretty child,” Laura blurted. The comparison to her own rude, overweight teenager was heartbreaking. Her girl had turned into as much of a slob as her husband. “Kirk , or should I say Darlene, it’s nice to see you again. You’re just as beautiful as your cousin.” She spoke with frank admiration.

“Honey, would you finish up in the sewing room while Laura and I talk? That’s a good girl.” Laura watched enthralled as Kirk carefully gathered his skirts, went into the hall and climbed the stairs like a fashion model.

“Let me catch my breath.” Laura said in a state of shock. “I never expected anything like this.” She took a couple of sips in silence, then turning back to Linda she spoke again. “Well, now you have to tell me everything.”

Linda launched into a description of her last few months with Kirk, his work in the sewing room, the way he kept house, his dress and increasingly adult and feminine manners. Then she catalogued her worries about what would happen as he grew up. Did Laura have any ideas? Had she ever picked up anything from her employer about boys who wore girls’ clothes? She apologized for using the word girl early on in reference to Kirk. “It’s so easy to do now.”

Laura came to understand what the coffee klatch was about and told Linda everything she knew about transgendered adults. Her doctor boss did not like the queers, as he described them, and wouldn’t have anything to do with them. On the other hand he recognized that someone had to, so he grudgingly kept a few pieces of literature and a probably out-of-date list of specialists on file. Laura didn’t think he would be a good resource for Kirk.

“From what I understand there are programs that help these people make physical changes. After years of treatment they have surgery to reconstruct their sex organs. In the meantime psychologists and physicians monitor the changes. The whole procedure takes ages and is horribly expensive.”

She went on. “I don’t remember seeing anything about children or teen-agers. These days the best source is probably the internet. Another possibility might be a woman who lives down the hill close by. She’s an herbalist and natural healer of sorts. I don’t know what she actually does but some sex change people from the city, or whatever they call them, come out here to see her. There was an article in the valley newspaper last year.”

After Laura’s description of medical procedures for transgendered people Linda was crestfallen, but she had to keep trying for Kirk’s sake. She thought about Sandy and her computers while Laura wrote down the name of a Mrs. Gaithers.

The two women agreed to keep in touch and Laura promised to say nothing to anyone for the time being. On the way home she kept thinking about Kirk giving lessons in poise to her own daughter. Why did her daughter have to be such a disappointment? Or did her daughter have other issues?

While the women chatted downstairs Kirk walked along the upstairs hall to Sandy’s office. Work in the sewing room was done for now. Mom was right, it was time to meet new people. Old Bill could hardly be counted as a pal.

Sandy was squinting at the screen and tapping the keyboard as Kirk came to the door. Even in cutoffs, baggy sweatshirt and bare feet Sandy was an attractive young woman. Her shoulder-length hair was casually tied back with a red ribbon.

Kirk stood watching the flickering images until she looked up, smiled and waved him in. “Come sit. I’m just about done. Linda says you’re good at taking care of things, better than a cleaners.” She punched a handful of keys, clicked the mouse and the machine went to its save-the-screen pattern.

Kirk smiled keeping his head up and back straight. “Yes, I am and I like helping mom. I think her business has improved since I took over the little things. And I get to try lots of nifty clothes. The way you dress for work is nice, but I don’t like short skirts. Girls should wear long skirts because they’re more graceful.” Kirk sat there knees together, legs tucked slightly under the chair, hands in his lap. (Readers, you may have noticed that Kirk’s style of speech has now become more formal and diplomatic, something he and Emma learned from from Miss Carradine.)

Sandy smiled at this throwback to Queen Victoria. “Well you certainly are the most poised girl I’ve seen in years. You’re really stunning when you get dressed up like the way you are. Most women are gross - like me!” She laughed as she remembered what she had on. “I’ve seen you around but never had a chance to chat. What’s your name? Mine’s Sandy.”

Hesitating, Kirk said “Darlene. I’ve lived here with Linda for only six months or so myself. Actually she’s my Aunt and just finished adopting me. I was her nephew.” Then put a hand to his lipsticked mouth.

“What?” Sandy wasn’t sure she heard right. “You mean niece, don’t you?” Kirk looked down. “I’m really a boy.”

Sandy spent a lot of time in and out of San Francisco so was not thrown off balance by Kirk ’s admission. The San Francisco Chronicle often had articles on sex changers, cross dressers and everything in-between, men and women. Even one of her customers was an ex-man.

“Tell me more, if you want. We can still be friends.”

Kirk needed to talk to somebody besides Linda, so he unloaded about Marlene’s disappearance, how his parents died, coming to live here and gradually getting interested in dressing like a girl, working for Linda etc. He didn’t mention the dreams.

“And that’s what I’m doing now. I came to see if I could clean your room and help out. You’re very pretty. I was hoping I could learn something from you, that is if you don’t mind.”

“That’s very flattering Darlene. Can I call you that? I don’t know what your boy name is. Let’s leave it at that. We’ll be Sandy and Darlene, two chums.” Kirk blushed.

Sandy said she would be away for a couple of days so Darlene was welcome to work on her room and even look at her clothes. “If things work out maybe we can see about something else.”

Two days later Sandy came back to spotless rooms. All her clothing and lingerie were clean, ironed, folded and hung up as though she had hired a professional cleaning service. There was even a small pile on her bed with a note: “To Be Thrown Out.”

“I have to do something for Darlene,” she thought.

The day after Sandy’s return Linda knocked hesitantly on her door. “Sandy, I was wondering if I could talk to you. Could you look up something on the internet?”

To Linda’s surprise she heard “It’s about Darlene isn’t it? I talked to her the other day and already did some digging.” She handed over a pile of hardcopies on medical and psychological procedures. There were a few web site announcements about support groups in Northern California. Nothing about children.

“Darlene was a real help. She went through all my clothes including lingerie storing them neatly in drawers, more than I ever do. She even washed and ironed everything that I hadn’t. My grungy lipstick and makeup cases were wiped down and put in order. My hair brushes are clean which I never do! She’s perfect. Oops, I know he’s a boy, but it’s hard to believe.”

“I know what you mean. He is perfect and I don’t know where it came from. Nearly two months ago he could hardly lift an iron without dropping it. Then he told me about a dream in which he was trained as a maid. Now he’s an accomplished women’s wear assistant and perfectionist in his own appearance. It’s a boon to me but I don’t want to encourage him into something that’s wrong.”

“I don’t know anything about this crossdressing stuff either. What I’ve seen in the city is that some men think they’re women stuck inside men’s bodies. How this happens I don’t know. I only sell computers. But if I find anything else I’ll give you a shout.”

A day later Mattie was getting ready to go when Kirk came down the stairs in his sweater, skirt, blouse and ballerina flats. “Cain’t say I’se surprised,” she said. “Yo’ done turned into you’ cousin. You even prettier‘n she was. You still a boy?”

Kirk nodded. “I just like to put on girl’s clothes now. I had a dream and now that’s the way I want to do it.”

Mattie nodded. “Jes’ lak’ I thought. It this house an’ maybe more. You happy?”

Kirk stood there and finally said “I guess so. I feel good when I do it. It isn’t wrong is it?”

“Jes’ be true to yo’ heart.” she replied. Out in the driveway when Mattie was about to get into her old sedan she stopped, looked up at the house for a moment and then made a warding off sign.

Jenny’s story sounded like a Stephen King novel. Linda hadn’t noticed any “energy.” Although as odd as Jenny seemed the woman projected a calmness and trust that Linda had sensed from few in her life. She felt a sudden need to open up and pent up feelings poured out like water through a ruptured dam.

TWINS by Marie, Part 12 - Jenny
by Marie C.

Jenny’s two story clapboard lies on the west side of the square between Nicasio Valley Road and the creek bank. Willows and buckeyes surround the house in a nearly impenetrable thicket. The dense vegetation is relieved somewhat by a small vegetable and herb garden tucked against the side of Jenny’s house. Behind the garden is a wire-fenced area for chickens and a goat. Tall bay trees shade the creek on the west side concealing a hideous new upscale housing development.

The two-lane roadway skirts the square effectively cutting the tiny settlement in half. Vehicle traffic is rarely heavy although locals frequently do forty-five to fifty miles an hour as they head into the S-curve. Crossing the road on foot pedestrians have to keep their eyes peeled.

A decade ago the plaza was converted into a rustic community baseball diamond complete with wire backstop. Nineteenth century wooden buildings flank the perimeter - the Catholic Church, the Rancho Nicasio restaurant, a remodeled Druid’s Hall and a half dozen houses like Jenny’s in greater or lesser states of decline. Behind the houses fenced grazing lands extend for a mile in every direction into the surrounding hills except for the grounds around the expensive new homes. Above the church on the east side of the road and on a low hilltop is Linda’s old house.

The atmosphere of the tiny settlement is sleepy except on weekends when the Rancho features bands and singers from all over. City folk come looking for a night in the country and a few invariably take their good times outside onto the square. Once in a while they cross the bridge into the backyards of the fancy new homes and annoy the wealthy newcomers no end.

North past the square homes and animal enclosures extend for another quarter mile to the original and very picturesque one room school house built in the 1870s. Beyond that is the new school resembling nothing so much as a state minimum security facility. For three miles between the school and the Petaluma-Point Reyes Road there are dairy farms, beekeepers and the Nicasio Reservoir.

Jenny is gray haired with light olive skin, probably in her sixties, a chunky five feet four but still a handsome woman. Her mother once told her she had a Miwok Indian ancestor, one of the tribe that lived here two hundred years ago.

She prefers caftans, smocks, baggy pants, sandals, beads and long straight hair tied back. She may be leftover from a back-to-nature movement dating from the 1960s, but nobody seems to know or care. When it runs she drives an ‘87 Chevvy and shops at the supermarket near Forest Knolls. Occasionally she strolls across the road to the Rancho for a late sandwich and Bloody Mary. She complains that walking gets harder every year.

Jenny was standing on her back porch tying plants into bundles when Linda knocked. “Come in,” she called not looking at the door involved as she was in twisting one last knot. Linda stepped through and, while Jenny was still looking away and busy with cuttings, was greeted with “I guess you’ve come about your nephew.”

Hearing this Linda felt like she had been hit with a brick. “How did you know? We’ve never seen each other before.”

Jenny finally looked up. “Come and sit,” she said hanging the last of unidentifiable bundles on a drying rack. “I’ll brew a pot of tea and try to explain.”

At the table Jenny went on. “I’ve been feeling it for a while. I can see your house from here and watched you both as the boy moved in. I know about your daughter.” Linda’s eyes filled with tears.

“I’ve lived here for twenty-eight years. A long time ago I became aware of a natural energy in the area which seems to confuse some people. The energy’s been here a long time and will probably be here longer. I have no idea where or what it comes from or even what it is. Maybe there are elements in the earth that produce the effect. The Indians knew about it before the Spaniards came. There are supposed to be places like it all over the world although I’ve never been to any.

Going on she said “I’ve learned from various accounts that if a person is physically and mentally strong not much happens if he or she spends any time around these locations. If the person is a child, a weak personality or under some kind of strain and ends up near a place like your hilltop, then things can happen. From some accounts others gather strength from these locations. That’s part of it. The rest of it is what you’ve been through.”

“I’ve come to believe that I’m here because of it, although at first I thought I came because I wanted a quiet country life. By now I think I’ve been appointed as an involuntary witness to what it can do, though I keep hoping it’s more than that. That’s how I sensed something happening at your house. This must sound like complete garbage, but it’s the best I can do. Maybe someday I’ll know more.”

Two cats meandered into the kitchen. One rolled on the floor, the other hopped up on the counter. “That’s Diablo, the tiger stripe, on the sideboard. Persephone’s the calico.” Jenny reached down and scratched Persephone’s tummy. After a minute the cat came over and brushed back and forth against Linda’s legs. Diablo stared intently at Linda from a distance, head down on his paws.

Jenny’s story sounded like a Stephen King novel. Linda hadn’t noticed any “energy.” Although as odd as Jenny seemed the woman projected a calmness and trust that Linda had sensed from few in her life. She felt a sudden need to open up and pent up feelings poured out like water through a ruptured dam.

She recounted every detail about Kirk ’s behavior, the dreams he described and her guilt in encouraging him to crossdress. She talked almost nonstop for more than an hour. Jenny sat there patiently, sympathetically listening the whole time without comment.

During a lull Jenny spoke the only time. “You miss your daughter very much.” Linda broke into tears and sobbed for what seemed like a long time. Jenny took her hand saying “There’s no shame in missing Marlene. It takes time.”

When Linda ran out of words Jenny began again. “From what you’ve said your nephew’s problem is not entirely your doing, if it is a problem. You have some part in his behavior because you took him in. For certain the both of you have been under enormous stress for quite some time.

“Lately you’ve encouraged him to crossdress, perhaps even overencouraged him, so the “energy” I talked about may be affecting both of you without your knowledge. And regardless of his complaints he seems to have some interest in presenting himself to the world as a girl. Whatever you’ve done I doubt if Kirk’s situation would have occurred without this peculiar set of circumstances.”

Linda said nothing. It had been a relief just to unload all the worries, doubts and guilt. She felt like a limp dishrag sitting there in Jenny’s easy chair and she wasn’t hearing very clearly although most of it would come back later.

“If at all possible I’d like to meet Kirk or Darlene as you say he’s called. Could both of you come tomorrow for an hour? I have clothes that need mending and altering. My figure is turning into a balloon and I need something that fits. Maybe the two of you can tell me what to do.

“Later you might have him stay a couple of nights. If you can do that I’ll know better about what’s going on. Oh, also, when you come could you please bring some photos of your daughter. That might help.” In her daze Linda agreed and set tomorrow after lunch for a second visit.

The following day Jenny watched as Kirk and his Aunt stepped through the gate. Linda wore jeans, T-shirt, jeans jacket and scarf. Her hair was in a curled page boy, perfect for the outdoor life of the valley. She was obviously well endowed and would be attractive to most men.

Next to her was a girl who looked about eleven or twelve, almost a juvenile copy. She had curly neck length hair and wore a crisp nylon blouse, pleated skirt and cardigan. Her hands were perfectly manicured. On her feet were Mary Jane flats and knee socks. She walked with a pleasing and graceful motion into which she had obviously been trained. If anything she was too neat and feminine unlike girls around the valley who often had to feed animals, operate machinery and yell at the farm hands. Jenny could not see anything remotely masculine about this child.

“Darlene, honey, this is Jenny. She has some clothes to be fixed, the ones I wanted you to look at. Do you remember?” As an aside Linda handed Jenny an envelope saying “These are the only snapshots I could find. Everything else is in frames.”

With a trace of a curtsy Kirk spoke gently. “Nice to meet you, Jenny,” and sat correctly in his chair knees together and skirt pulled down like a dutiful child waiting for two adults to go about their business.

“Would you like some lemonade and cookies, Darlene?” Jenny asked.

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Gaithers.”

“You call me Jenny, you hear?” she said in mock anger. “Nobody calls me Mrs. Gaithers unless it’s the tax man.” She handed Kirk a glass and plate with the cookies.

He took the glass with one hand, the other stayed in his lap. Then one cookie. “Thank you Jenny.”

“What a sweet child, maybe too sweet. Other than the fact she’s a boy he must be a pleasure to have around.” She felt no inclination to call him Kirk. She always found it best to follow her intuition.

“My things are all upstairs, so when you’re done we can go up. Your aunt says you’re really good with clothes.”

Jenny was surprised by the child’s sober, adult sounding response. “Didn’t she tell you, she’s my mom now. She adopted me last month. I’m not used to calling her mom, but I try to remember. I’ll be glad to look at your clothes. Sometimes I have ideas about what mom should wear but she doesn’t always listen. That’s the way grownups are with kids aren’t they? ” He giggled a little and put his hand to his lips.

Upstairs Jenny pulled garments out of her closet that looked like leftovers from a homeless camp. Linda passed him a batch and said “Here, sweetie, would you check these for rips and tears while I take Jenny’s measurements?” Kirk made a face at the pile and began separating the damaged from the hopeless. He was done in minutes.

“These need to be fixed.” He pointed a delicately manicured finger at a small heap of blouses and sweaters. “These are rags,” indicating a second and much larger pile.

Jenny was amazed and thinking quickly added, “My daughter moved away years ago and I still have some of her things that need to be sorted. There may even be some dolls. Would you like to stay overnight and help me go through them?”

“If mom says it’s o.k. I haven’t been anywhere for awhile.” Kirk looked at Linda doubtfully.

Linda didn’t like the idea of being apart from Kirk because of Marlene’s disappearance. On the other hand she didn’t think Jenny would do any harm and the risk might be worth it. Anyhow he’d only be across the square. She needed to try something for Kirk’s sake - and for her own peace of mind.

“I think it would be a nice idea.” Linda said. “You spend way too much time in our old house.”

The young man stood in the Rancho parking lot next to his pickup truck with the hood up pretending to work on a stalled engine. He watched Linda and Kirk as they drove the short distance back from Jenny’s to the old house. The girl was a cousin to the other he’d learned. He thought about hiking up the low hill to scout the property but after watching a few days realized there were people who came and went at odd times. Chances were good he’d be seen.

“Better pass on this one,” he muttered to himself. “Besides, his pal said the woman was a cop’s old lady. The kid is really spooky. How can they look so much alike?” He slammed the hood, started the engine and drove off to another property near Petaluma he’d been watching for the past three weeks.

TWINS by Marie, Part 13 Clara

“Wake up, Twin,” Marlene commanded. I drowsily opened my eyes. There was Marlene dressed like an angel in a long white gown with fake cardboard wings, hands on hips and looking high and mighty as usual. I lay there for a time then sat on the edge of the bed.

“Where did you get that silly costume?” I said. I was getting tired of my bitchy cousin. I’m sorry, I don’t usually use words like that but you know what I mean. And I wasn’t so afraid of her any more. I lifted one foot to the edge of the bed and pretended to examine my pink toenails. Using both hands I brushed my hair back and stretched sinuously. Getting no reply out of Marlene I decided to needle her back. “Why are you always so bossy? You know it’s getting boring.”

Continuing to ignore me she looked around. “My room’s finally clean.” She stepped into her closet and I could hear her rummaging around. “You’ve fixed my dresses and dollies. Very good!”

I tiptoed up and slammed the closet door behind her. “Hey,” she shrieked and banged on door. Eventually she found the inside latch and came out mad as a wet hen. I giggled in her face and stuck out my tongue.

She stuck out her tongue in reply while holding two identical navy blue velvet dresses - round white lace collars, short sleeves with white cuffs - you know the drill, one of which she handed to me. The dresses hadn’t been in there before and I thought they were lovely. I had long since stopped wondering where these things came from. Then she kissed me on the cheek. Maybe I was finally getting some respect. I noticed this time she hadn’t entered me and I didn’t ask why.

“We have to go upstairs again. But make sure we’re absolutely identical in my dark blue dress."

“They’re very pretty.” I said holding one up to the mirror. “And it does go with our coloring.” I preened back and forth with a sweet smile.

Marlene pulled out two sets of lingerie and we did each other’s bra catches. Little white ankle socks were carefully folded down over ankle strap black flats. Last came our soft nylon slips and the beautiful knee-length dresses. Big fluffy blue bows were tied in back.

“I loved it when you kissed Eric at the fashion show and so did you. You’re going to love being a girl,” I turned my head away blushing like mad.

Changing the subject I asked “We don’t have any hair on on our legs, do we?” Marlene inspected my legs and shook her head and I examined hers.

“I like it when we dress together,” I said shyly and checked her for slip length, collar position and knelt to wipe her shoes which were dusty from the closet.

We sat at the vanity and proceeded to make little changes in hair and makeup watching each other for detail. We both wanted the “little girl” look tonight.

“We really are twins now,” I said. “Let’s get the earrings,” which turned out to be little heart shaped studs.

“I think you like being me, but you aren’t as bossy.” Marlene said. “Do you like being me? If you don’t, I’m going to think of some awful punishment,” she said in mock anger.

One of his now infrequent doubts about being a boy in a dress washed over him and left as quickly as it came. With a big smile he stood there holding his skirts out twirling and smiling and for the first time said “I wish you could be here all the time so we could be twin sisters for mom,” he replied. “Sometimes she even calls me by your name. You know she adopted me.”

Marlene nodded. It looked like she might cry. She gave Kirk a big hug. “It’s o.k. That’s how I want it to be. I’ll always be there to help you be my sister.” She sniffled and we held each other, two babes in the woods alone.

The same group of girls was waiting upstairs. Kirk saw Emma and rushed over to give her a kiss. “You were my little voice and I love you for it,” Emma whispered.

He looked around. There was sarcastic Billie, the Indian girl and many others. Emma looked and felt as solid as Marlene.

“My, my, look at the Bobbsey Twins,” said Clara, the flapper. “One’s a boy, though, isn’t he.” Kirk blushed.

“Oh, look at him blush. He doesn’t know what being a girl’s like.” She touched her bosom in a lewd manner.

This time Marlene defended Kirk. “Leave him alone, you creep!”

Clara giggled, “So you're his watchdog, are you?” She stepped into Kirk faster than anyone could react.

“Clara, they’re waiting!” Eleanor screeched at me up the stairs. She’s my big sister and nineteen years old. Jack and Eddy were outside in Jack’s twelve cylinder 1928 Cadillac roadster. He got it for his birthday last week and is driving us to the dance in Larkspur. I was listening to Let’s Misbehave, on our victrola and forgot the time. It’s a naughty song by somebody named Cole something.

I had on my pale pink sleeveless, waistless georgette frock, knee length with rolled down hose and T-strap pumps. Underneath I had on the white silk slip and lacy French underpants I got last Christmas. My nails were elegantly long and blood red to match my perfect cupid’s bow lips. It took me a whole hour to get everything right- and another half-hour to get my eyes and lashes all dark like Marion Davies in The Flapper. A cloche hat shaded my face making me look mysterious, I hoped. Bangle bracelets and a rope of pearls clicked and tinkled as I moved.

I was almost seventeen but look a lot older, at least that’s what Uncle Bill says. Uncle Bill keeps looking at me with a big smile. Sometimes he puts his arm around me, sits next to me longer than I like and fiddles with my necklace. I think I know what Uncle Bill wants to do.

The night was summer warm. My sister secretly arranged the date when dad and mom told us they were going to Carmel for the weekend. She says she’s going to vamp Jack tonight. I hope she doesn’t get pregnant. One of the girls in school did last semester and had to leave. Mom and dad were embarrassed when we asked what happened and wouldn’t answer our questions. But everybody at school knew what she did.

I didn’t wear any bra so everything kind of rolled around as I walked. Eddy was grinning and giving me the eye as I came down the front stairs. I didn’t know him very well but I got in back anyhow and waved him away using my beaded clutch like a fly swatter. I thought his eyes would pop out of his head when my knees showed climbing in. Of course I didn’t do a whole lot to keep them covered.

“If he thinks he’s getting any tonight, he’s got another think coming.” I said to myself as I made a show of pulling my skirt down and stuck out my tongue which is when Eddy brightened up again. “God, it doesn’t take much to get them going.” I thought taking a cigarette from my sister’s case and lighting up. He didn’t even offer me a match, the jerk.

I watched Eddy slip a flask out of his pocket and held it out for me to take a swig. I shook my head and he went ahead on his own. It was still Prohibition and I didn’t want to get in trouble for nipping hootch. He started to put his arm around me trying to get all lovey before we were even halfway there. “You’re the cutest little thing, just like Clara Bow. I bet you smooch good.”

“Just stay where you are, big boy.” I moved to the other side of the seat because I had decided we would ride all the way to the dance on opposite sides of the back seat except when Jack took the curves too fast.

The Rose Bowl had a great band, Anson Weeks. Everybody says he sounds just like famous Paul Whiteman band from New York that came to San Francisco a few weeks ago. The Rose Bowl is the county’s big outdoor dance pavilion. Kids come from all over, even from the city by the ferry. We danced the Charleston and Fox Trot until midnight.

While we were there Eddy brought me a cup of punch. He must have poured his whisky in it because I started feeling woozy real fast. All the way to the car he had his arm around my waist and kept trying to grab my titties. I didn’t object because I was giggling, but I wasn’t going to cooperate either, no sir.

Clara was nothing like Emma, more like Marlene, but older and tougher, Kirk thought. She had a healthy, firm body like Emma but that was the extent of it. He was a little scared but curious as Clara began to snuggle with Eddy. He was getting used to being a girl and wanted to find out more.

Halfway back Jack’s brand new car sputtered and they rolled to the side of the road into the deep gloom of a big tree. “Sorry guys, we’re out of gas. Gotta wait for somebody to come along.” Kirk realized they were in the middle of nowhere when Eddy made his moves. A few slobbery kisses landed on Clara’s neck and shoulders.

They could hear Eleanor whispering in the front seat. “No, Jack, not so hard. You’re tearing my dress.” Then silence except for the rustle of clothes, heavy breathing and few ohs and ums. After another swig and Eddy’s hand began to rove. Cars went by and nobody got out to flag them down.

“No, you’re not gettin’ any,” Clara said and pushed his hand away for the hundredth time. He slobbered on her again and as she tried to push him away her hand slipped behind his neck forcing them to kiss by accident. Kirk felt strange as Clara unexpectedly returned Eddy’s deep if rather alcoholic smooch. Something tickled her nipples and she heard his belt buckle clink.

Still in a clinch he took her hand and moved it down to his pants where it was placed against something stiff and warm though still inside his pants.

Kirk felt hands tugging at his shoulders. After a wrenching sensation he found himself huddled between Marlene and Emma, back in his little girl dress. Some of the girls said Clara shouldn’t have done that.

Clara cackled. “If he’s going to be a girl then he’s gotta be ready for boys. He liked it but he ain’t gonna say so! Besides, that ain’t half what happened.”

I looked at the floor completely disoriented. “Twin are you o.k.?” For the first time Marlene looked concerned and took my hand.

Clara leered and shrieked, “He needs to go all the way.” and continued cackling like a demented turkey. I didn’t know what she meant and felt scared.

A Spanish-looking girl dropped her sewing and spoke angrily. “ ¡Cá¡llate, Clara!” (Shut up, Clara! in Spanish) and stepped into Kirk.

Kirk blended with Ana Maria more from curiosity than the fear and confusion resulting from his time with Clara. In many ways Ana was like Emma, a young female in a family setting. Of the two Ana was the more childlike and rather lazy, never having had to do any real work. On the other hand she had a sense of fulfillment and determination as a mother that Emma never knew.

TWINS by Marie, Part 14 - Ana Maria
by Marie C.

One of the twins was screeching ‘til I couldn’t stand it anymore. You know how it is with two little ones. I dropped my sewing, picked up my skirts and stepped over to the fireplace where the two were playing on a deer hide rug. I was ready to commit child murder and of course when I got there it was nothing important. One had taken the other’s doll and the tug of war was just starting. I lifted both to my lap, raised my blouse and let them suckle.

Feeding quiets them and I always have plenty of milk. When they nurse I feel all warm and tingly and remember my nights with their father. Mama and abuelita, my grandmother, complain that the boys are too old to nurse. It will ruin their character if I keep letting them have their way like this, they say. I don’t care though. I like my angels just the way they are. They sleep in my room and sometimes in my bed.

During the day I like to dress them like girls. The king does that with his boys when they are little so why can’t I? Papa and abuelito, my grandfather, shake their heads, however they are too busy to care about women’s work. My babies are almost four.

Peter, their father, told me he was a count. He came to our rancho one day to buy cattle for Fortá­n Ruso, the Russian fort an overnight’s ride up the coast. Peter knew some Spanish, although I had to cover my mouth every time he spoke to keep from giggling. He sounded so funny. Mostly I couldn’t understand anything he said.

He was very handsome, tall with blond hair, blue eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. When he arrived that morning his eyes followed me all day and I confess I looked back. He crept into my bed sometime in the wee hours after everyone was asleep from drinking too much of his Russian vodka. I was only thirteen but well-developed just like mama was when she married papa. I got scared at first but Peter’s gentleness soon had me all calm. He whispered sweet things in Spanish and sometimes in his own language. At least I hope they were sweet! When he touched and kissed me in private places I got excited like never before.

It hurt a little when he entered me but I soon forgot about that. He got inside me several times that time and on one more exquisite night after that. For each of the days after I dragged around praying that papa and mama wouldn’t suspect anything. I had to wash some little spots of blood out of the bed clothes, but was ready to say it was just my monthly visitor. Nobody asked.

I worried what papa might do if he found out because he always said girls should protect their honor until they get married. I think he meant that I shouldn’t have done what I did with Peter. They didn’t find out, at least not right away, although mama kept looking at me in a funny way for the rest of the week.

Before Peter left he tied a gold ring around my neck carved with those funny Russian letters. He said it belonged to his father and had been in his family for hundreds of years. In his mixed-up Spanish he said he would come back in a year to marry me. I replied “Sá­, sá­, mi amor. Te espero por siempre.” That means “Yes, yes, my love. I will wait for you always.” I am very romantic. Peter’s sons are growing fast and I wonder if he is ever coming back.

I live in a large hillside adobe, part of Rancho Nicasio. Abuelito received the property as a reward from King Carlos of Spain. Abuelito came north all the way from Mexico with the expedition of Capitá¡n De Anza in 1776, chosen by the Capitá¡n because abuelito had survived two other hard expeditions just like it. Abuelita was by his side this time all the way from Mexico City. She said it was a difficult journey and they almost didn’t make it.

Sooner than expected abuelito got rich selling cattle, hides and tallow to Russians like Peter. Now English and Yankee whaling ships tie up in the large bay south of here and their officers come up here all the time to buy from us. They wink at me like Peter did.

Since the big revoluciá³n in Mexico five years ago Alta California has been on its own and the Californios are fed up. The missions in San Rafael and Yerba Buena (which abuelito calls San Francisco) are poor. Even the army’s Presidio is in ruins. Months ago my uncles and older brother rode off to Mexico City with a party from Monterey to get more money for the province. Papa thinks they’re on a fool’s errand. “We should make a deal with the Yankees,” he says.

When I started showing papa got real mad and rode to Fortá­n Ruso determined to avenge my honor. His party arrived and found that the Russians had a company of soldiers and a cannon. Papa’s men would have been no match.

The Russians didn’t want to fight anyhow because papa has the best livestock in the area. Shortly after papa arrived an officer came out and explained that Count Peter had already sailed to Kodiak Island and would not be back for a long time. He gave papa a letter in Russian and Spanish that Peter left just in case. It said he intended to come back and marry me. In it Peter apologized for any trouble that he may have caused. Later I showed papa Peter’s ring.

That satisfied papa’s honor especially since the boys were now sons of a count. So papa brought back the letter, bolts of beautiful silk and cotton from China for the women and seal skins to make into coats. When the twins were born papa and abuelito accepted them as family. Everyone forgot Peter except me.

Kirk blended with Ana Maria more from curiosity than the fear and confusion that came out of his time with Clara. In many ways Ana was like Emma, a young female in a family setting. Of the two Ana was the more childlike and rather lazy, never having had to do any real work. On the other hand she had a sense of fulfillment and determination as a mother that Emma never knew.

Breast-feeding was frightening at first as were Ana’s memories of lovemaking, pregnancy and childbirth, but over time Kirk came to enjoy nursing the twins. A feeling of softness and being needed gripped him every time like an addictive drug and whatever past worries came to mind about being a boy in girls’ clothes dissipated like mist when he helped Ana lift them to her breasts. He could have sat with Ana’s babies all day except that after a half hour he/Ana would run out of milk and the boys would get cranky.

Life in the adobes was more primitive than in the 1908 house. Whale oil and tallow used for lamps was smoky and smelly. Stoves and ovens were constructed out of flat stones and adobe. Fires had to be maintained during the day and banked at night by Indian servants.

Water was lugged uphill from the creek in leather buckets twice a week and poured into an adobe tank in the kitchen called a pila and into troughs for the animals and workmen. Although there was a small tributary creek with winter runoff papa’s search for an aqueduct route from the big creek had so far been fruitless.

Livestock were kept mainly in a large courtyard - horses, cattle, goats, chickens, dogs. The rancho had them all. There were all manner of wild animals in the district - bears, deer, pumas, coyotes, rabbits, squirrels, quail etc. Skins of every kind covered our walls.

Floors were made of redwood planks smoothed by the workmen, although all the outbuildings had dirt floors. Rooms were cold and drafty so that much of Ana’s wintertime was spent by the fireplace. Otherwise life was pleasant in the Rancho Nicasio adobes for a spoiled young woman and her even more pampered toddlers.

Women’s clothing was simpler and more practical. Ana wore colorful ankle length full skirts with two or three petticoats fastened by drawstrings. Blouses tended to be of the loose peasant type ornamented with embroidery, tucks and ruffles and shaped with colored drawstrings. Shawls and lace mantillas were kept in a redwood wardrobe.

She never wore underpants although she owned a pair of lace trimmed cotton pantaloons that her father got in trade from Capitá¡n Richardson down at Rancho Saucelito. Those she put on for the occasional district fandangos over at Misiá³n San Rafael. There was one garment stored in her cabinet that the English captain’s wife called stays. Ana didn’t understand what it was for except that it was somehow supposed to go around her middle and make her look thin. Other than that she wore small ballerina slippers and white cotton stockings held up with cloth tapes.

Kirk was horrified to see that Ana was not very clean by modern standards partly because water for bathing was scarce at the adobe and partly because it just wasn’t high on the list of things to do. Kirk’s attitudes and knowledge about women’s wear and behavior from the perspective of two future epochs was comprehensive, so he set out to be a mental version of Miss Carradine, that is to train Ana into being a proper young woman.

As with Emma he used the times when Ana was vague or uncertain or just daydreaming, pressing her to practice again and again if she strayed from Emma’s standards. Like Emma Ana didn’t know what to think about her little voice, but in time she firmly believed it came from the Santo Niá±o de Atocha to whom she prayed every day. Kirk made no attempt to have her think otherwise.

Under his prodding she gradually came to adopt a stricter health regimen including baths and hair brushing. She learned to use stale bread, salt and thread to clean her teeth and vegetable oil for her skin. He pushed her to wear the stays to bolster a waistline now saggy from childbirth. As he became comfortable with Ana both began to project the firmness and feminine self-confidence that Kirk and Emma had learned together and that Kirk/Darlene would carry for the rest of her life.

Ana matured under Kirk’s “guidance” and came to be more assertive, especially with her father who complained she was getting too uppity. For example she insisted on simple outhouses for “women only” instead of the women having to share the farmyard with ranch hands and livestock.

She surprised mama and abuelita by supervising house servants when either or both adult women were indisposed. In time she became the strictest of all in household management as mama and abuelita got older. At Kirk’s prodding she introduced occasional cane spankings to the Indian housemaids until they adopted practices he now believed were necessary to care for a large household.

Without Kirk’s encouragement Ana began regular inspections of ranch worker hovels and insisted to papa that their huts be warm and dry through the winter contrary to conditions present at the other ranchos. Much to her family’s disapproval she turned into a part-time Mother Teresa nursing the ill and injured workers and sometimes serving as an assistant midwife.

As the rancho’s reputation for good working conditions spread abuelito and papa were soon able to pick and choose from among the best of the native workers. Neither would admit that Ana’s efforts had anything to do with it.

Kirk’s, or Darlene’s, certainty in his own femininity grew as he/Ana became a person in her own right. Years later he remembered that his experiences in breast-feeding and dressing the boys were probably his most feminizing.

Michi considered the apparition above them. Regarding it for a time she realized there were two shadows present in the girl’s image where there should be one. Commanding them to separate she saw that one of the two was male! She waited to see what might come of her dictate but the two moved back together without incident. She had heard of such things although they were rare.

TWINS by Marie, Part 15 - Ana and Michi
by Marie C.

All my friends, the workmen, everybody except my family thinks my little twins are girls. I call them Rosa and Rita though their real names are Antonio and Diego. Even mama and abuelita like to make them look pretty. They spend hours sewing matching frocks and every morning they tie ribbons and flowers into the boys’ curls. Last week our tanners made them lovely little deerskin slippers.

On the boys’ birthday in El Aá±o de Nuestro Seá±or de Mil Ochocientos Veintiséis (In The Year Of Our Lord 1826) mama brought out a surprise, a lovely identical set of red silk dresses with low square necks and three quarter sleeves. Both were made from the gifts papa brought back from the Fortá­n Ruso, that time he went out to redeem my honor.

Lovely hand-carved polished wood combs inlaid with mother-of-pearl stood erect in the boys’ upswept hairdos which were covered in turn by beautiful white lace mantillas. Both boys had long since had their ears pierced and sported charming silver filigree pendant earrings with matching neck chains and cameos. Red berry juice stained their lips and whale oil mixed with lamp black darkened their lashes.

The other surprise was for me, a gorgeous frock made from the same material. The worst part of it was I had to wear those awful stays to get it on. I could hardly breathe. Fortunately I had been wearing them for a few weeks so it was not as bad as it could have been! Mama stood us together in front of the mirror to see how we would look, a lovely image of mother and twin daughters in bright red. The boys were preciosas, and so was I, mama said.

I dreamed about the time when I could lead them down the aisle for first communion at Misiá³n San Rafael. I imagined them hermosas, so beautiful, kneeling at the altar in their white lace frocks, hands together in prayer and veils fetchingly turned back from their faces. Kirk/Darlene would have beamed if there had been any physical way to do so. He reveled in Ana’s secret thoughts without a single qualm.

A small fiesta de cumpleaá±os, a birthday party for my charming five year olds, had been planned later that day with neighboring ranchero families in attendance. Papa and abuelito couldn’t be there because they had to deal with the English shipmasters, besides, children’s parties were women’s work.

That day I got in a silly mood and confided to my friend Catalina that my “girls” were really boys and secretly wished they could be real girls. Catalina laughed at my idea but thought it was sweet. When she gets married she’s going to have two little dolls exactly like them and fuss over them with all the ribbons and lace she can find just like I do. I took her inside and showed her their collection of pretty frocks and shawls. She even helped me rearrange their hair with flowers and combs. The boys loved every minute of their attention. After all it was their birthday!

Before Catalina went home that day she told me a strange tale about an Indian who changes boys into girls. Of course she didn’t actually believe anything like that could really happen. Nobody of proper breeding ever would. I agreed it must be a poor joke and both of us poo-pooed the whole idea. What else can you expect from indios. Even so, Catalina promised to visit in the event she heard anything else, if only to get away from her rancho and have another visit. But secretly I was excited and for days I thought about nothing else.

A week or so later two women and a man rode up to the main gate. Catalina introduced her companion only as Carmen, one of her Christian convert Indian servants. The man, who remained silent, was Catalina’s husband.

Apparently Carmen knew the Indian woman of the story. The woman didn’t live far from Rancho Nicasio and was known among the indians as “the one who helps confused persons.” Carmen spoke a very crude Spanish which was not easy to follow but Ana and Catalina got the gist of a story about a boy and his mother who visited the woman’s hut. In less than a year the child was no longer a boy.

Carmen had no explanation for the changes except that Mi-uocs, as they are called, think nothing of such transformations and accepted the new girl as an ordinary member of their community. She is now the mother of normal children, boys and girls. All it requires is for the child and mother, if she is available, to be present at a small ceremony in a place where there is a powerful earth spirit.

“If the patrona wishes I can arrange for such a visit. The people who live near the woman have a very high regard for your work with their sick and injured. But there would also have to be gifts given like hides and axes.” Ana thanked Carmen saying she would wait and think it over. Carmen was provided with a present of produce for her trouble. As the women rode away Ana was more thrilled than ever with the idea.

Kirk couldn’t help thinking back to poor William being changed against his will. He even flashed back to Linda’s spankings with a flash of anger. But in the next instant his mind emptied as Ana remembered that the twins were due for a feeding and her breasts were bursting. Ana/Kirk picked up the boys, opened her blouse and nursed them a little longer today.

Like Emma Ana experienced Kirk’s short periods of doubt as her own, especially since she was unsure of dealing directly with a village of indios, something a Californio girl should never do alone. So she decided to sound out mama and abuelita about Catalina’s story pretending it was just a passing curiosity.

Mama said not to listen to stories about ignorant indios and she should stop spending so much time with them on the rancho. Abuelita said only the holy word of the church and the family were important. If Ana kept worrying about indios she might bring God’s curse down on the rancho.

Rebellious, Ana kept her own counsel and the images in her imagination continued to blossom. She saw the boys growing into lovely young women in wedding dresses standing next to the sons of other rancheros, or perhaps next to handsome foreigners like one of the yanquá­s. She didn’t think it was wrong if God wanted girls instead of boys, after all it was His decision and He was everywhere. If she decided to do anything she would do it without the family’s knowing.

The hours after midnight were cold and misty as Ana/Kirk carried first Rita and then Rosa out through a side entrance. Carmen and her husband waited in the trees with three horses. Both boys were sound asleep from a tea that Catalina obtained.

Light from a full moon struggled through the mist fitfully lighting the landscape as they rode down a narrow cattle trail. A half-hour’s ride brought them to a scatter of cone-shaped huts standing on a flattened hilltop surrounded by tall oaks. Occasionally the fog shifted and Ana could see down into the valley where the creek was in full spring runoff.

One of the structures was larger than the others. Thin smoke rose from an opening at its top and was immediately lost in the murk. A small fire burned outside lighting the ground around them. Ana and the sleeping boys remained on horseback while Carmen and her husband dismounted and went off looking for whoever was supposed to meet them. Other than the small blaze there seemed to be no visible human activity. She felt cold, scared and started to worry about the children waking up.

Just as Ana thought about going back to the rancho a fearsome looking dark-skinned person lifted a flap of the hut and stepped out. Ana saw that it was a woman wearing an animal skin apron common to the Mi-uoc. The woman moved closer peering intently at Ana and the children, then turned to Carmen who had just returned. Ana was surprised to see intelligence and warmth in the woman’s face. Most of the Indians on the rancho wore rather dull, pitiful expressions. This woman’s eyes twinkled as though she had just heard something amusing.

She was not physically attractive by Californio standards and stood well under five feet tall. Her cloak was made from animal skins sewn together, rabbit from its look. Matted gray hair was tied back with fiber strands. Her skin was dusty. Ana knew they rolled in dirt after bathing.

The woman said something to Carmen in a guttural language and Carmen translated: “We are being welcomed. She thanks you for your work with the ranch workers. Please go inside. The woman’s name is unpronounceable for you, so just call her Michi.” Ana nodded and said “Gracias, Michi.” Carmen held the flap and Michi led the way.

Ana stepped down into a shallow area about twenty feet in circumference excavated out of the ground and thinly furnished with large woven mats. An animal something like a cat disappeared through a hole on the opposite side as she turned her head. Around the room were piles of plants. Some hung drying in bunches from the slanted rafters. Smaller pits were dug around the largest mat, each holding a modest amount of pulverized dry vegetable matter. Two pits were smoldering giving the interior a smoky atmosphere.

Carmen told Ana the hill was home to a powerful spirit which sometimes granted wishes. Michi was just a channel for those seeking help and could not guarantee how the spirit would act. Ana began to wonder if the whole thing wasn’t just a sham to get an extra supply of hides and axes. Earth spirits! She scowled at the thought, but she had come this far.

“Place Rita and Rosa on the large mat and smooth their clothing and hair,” Carmen instructed. “Sit on the left side with your back to the opening.”

Ana seated herself as comfortably as she could on the hard, irregular surface. Even with a mat underneath it was like sitting on bare rock. Michi stepped outside of the structure and quickly brought back a small, watertight basket filled with warm tea. She motioned for Ana to drink it while she slowly walked clockwise around the space lighting different plant piles.

Ana watched as the cat creature crept back in and lay down near the back opening, head on its paws watching the humans as though curious. She became somewhat alarmed as she recognized the spots, short tail and pained expression - a gato montés, a wildcat. She had never seen one alive! Papa had skins on the wall that his men had taken from trapped animals but that was all she knew. She felt alarmed as it seemed to observe her every move. A second and smaller version came through the opening, lay down next to the first and proceeded to chew on parts of a dead squirrel.

Ana was told to breath deeply of the murky vapors which now completely filled the hut. Her third breath brought on a violent coughing fit which was followed by an overwhelming drowsiness. She tried lifting her arms and legs and found they were like huge stones. As her thinking turned to mush and her eyes wandered Michi touched her lightly on the head and shoulders, and then knelt over the children and touched each one in turn all over their bodies. A soft light flared when she touched their midsections. Ana felt vaguely alarmed but Michi and the boys seemed so far away and the woman moved so slowly it was like a dream.

At one point she thought she was floating high up near the opening. Looking down she could see Michi, the boys, Carmen and herself. The animals stared up at her unblinkingly without moving. Kirk was watching the same scene but he was unable to think being just as muddled as Ana.

Michi considered the apparition above them. Regarding it for a time she realized there were two shadows present in the girl’s image where there should be one. Commanding them to separate she saw that one of the two was male! She waited to see what might come of her dictate but the two moved back together without incident. She had heard of such things although they were rare.

How this could happen with a Californio girl Michi made no attempt to explain. She had no control over the specters. They were just there and usually harmless just like these two. She felt a surge of energy rising from the ground.

Suddenly Carmen and Michi were pulling Ana/Kirk to her feet and out the flap. When they placed Rita in her arms Ana became fully awake. Carmen held Rosa. “We have to leave now to get back before dawn.”

On the way back Carmen passed on Michi’s instructions telling Ana to continue training the children in girls’ ways. The spirit had granted her request and she should expect small changes by the first full moon. The biggest transformations will take place in six moons and possibly as many as twelve.

When Ana crawled into bed she thought the whole thing had been a bit of a comedown.

The suitcase oddly yielded clothes for a small boy and a dress the same size. They were musty but still good. Kirk tossed the washed clothes and curtains into the dryer, then sat repairing stuffed animals for the rest of the afternoon.

TWINS by Marie, Part 16 - Jenny’s House, Day 1
by Marie C.

Linda and Kirk pulled up on the shoulder of the road in front of Jenny’s. The plan was for Linda to spend a day in San Francisco looking at fabrics and stay overnight with old friends. Kirk would remain with Jenny ostensibly to help with her wardrobe and housecleaning for two days and nights.

For his adventure away from the old house Kirk picked a simple outfit - a red cardigan, white blouse and red and blue tartan pleated knee length skirt. A white hair band framed his face for hair now below his shoulders. Nail color and sparingly applied lipstick matched the sweater. Other than that he wore white knee socks and Mary Jane flats. Clothes he needed for work went into a small overnight case.

After a big hug Jenny led him up to a small room upstairs across from hers which she said belonged to her daughter. “You can stay here tonight though it’s not very clean. These days I don’t have the time or energy to keep things up. Maybe after you look around you can tell me what to do about my daughter's things.”

“If you don’t get too worn out today you can help with my room tomorrow. In the attic there are trunks filled with wonderful things that belonged to my grandmother. Your mom said you knew about old-style clothes.” She showed the boy where the housecleaning supplies were and waited in case he had any questions.

But there was nothing to wait for. She watched as he pulled on a duster, cotton gloves and headscarf, gave the room a professional glance. “I’ll see what I can do. If the things are too far gone I’ll tell you to throw them out. I saw an awful lot the other day that weren’t worth keeping.” The last was said with pursed lips and a resigned expression.

Jenny went down the stairs mumbling something about her garden expecting the boy to putter around for a while and then come down whining about too much work or needing help. “Most kids that age never last twenty minutes.”

Kirk looked around the room. There was a cheap vanity, chest of drawers and cheval mirror on a stand. A small selection of girls’ books were piled on the chest - Nancy Drew mysteries, girl scout manuals and animal and plant care guides.

Before he started work he sat on the edge of the bed and pondered his time with Ana not without some fondness. This time he didn’t feel at all confused or outraged. If anything he felt stronger and certainly more self-assured at dressing and living as a girl. After all he had instructed Ana in new ways of living, of being more adult and assertive of herself as a young woman. Yes, he had made good use of the training received from Miss Carradine and Madame - even from Marlene.

More frightening was his brief experience with Clara which had forced him to deal with the possibility of sex. While scary it made him curious about what might be in store for him as a girl. Emma never dealt with her sexuality, she never had a chance. On the other hand Ana’s memories of love-making, childbirth and especially her daily breast feeding left a major imprint on his personality. As a nursing mother he more than ever wished he was a young woman, but with a personality like Emma. He looked in the cheval mirror and liked what he saw. Today he was going to use the name Darlene from here on out with whatever doubts or problems the decision might incur.

Turning back to the task at hand he opened the closet and found a half dozen dusty cotton dresses for a girl his size hanging on wire hangers. Shoes were helter-skelter at the bottom and cardboard boxes on the shelf were thick with dust. Nothing had been touched for ages. Dust mice skittered across the closet floor with every step.

Going through the dresser he found old pants, sweaters and blouses, most of which were faded or stained. After checking whether the bed was covered properly he laid everything out, useless in one pile, useful in another. Then he cleaned the dresser inside and out. “No liner paper, hmm.”

The vanity yielded a mish mash of of dried cosmetics, powders and hardened nail polish all of which went into an old waste basket. A few combs, brushes and nail files needed cleaning. Drawers were cleaned out and the top wiped. The mirror got a wash and the windows a swipe. All curtains came down for a stint in the washer. Floor and walls got the dust mop and vacuum. Eventually nothing remained except the boxes in the closet and an old brown suitcase from under the bed which he dusted off and laid on the floor.

The good dresses all needed washing and an iron. He held a few up to the mirror. Two cotton play frocks were good. All the shoes were too brittle. A pale green spaghetti strap ball gown in a clothing bag was nice but turning brown. He tried the matching heels. Too big, though it made him wonder. In time he would need one or two good pair of three inch black or navy pumps. He dusted the closet, then sat at the vanity to check his hair and nails.

Downstairs he looked for Jenny who didn’t seem to be in evidence and so ended up wandering through the kitchen, dining room and parlor. Tall shelves held dozens of books. A one shelf showed nothing but titles that said trans... something. Others were about plants, flowers and wild animals. There was a small TV set, odds and ends of old mismatched furniture and photos of Jenny when she was younger with a girl his age.

Two cats lounged in a window box sunning themselves. Diablo lay on his back, feet spread giving his stomach a tongue and paw bath. Persephone ignored Darlene as he moved through the room, accepted a few pets and protested loudly when he attempted to pick her up.

He examined curious artifacts like baskets and arrowheads. Some polished rocks and seashells lay on the window sills. Mostly everything was covered in dust. “I don’t keep it very well, do I?” Jenny said unannounced. “My daughter moved to the city with her boy friend ten years ago because she got tired of living here. But I think you came down to tell me something.”

Kirk led Jenny back upstairs and showed her things that required decisions. “The cosmetics and shoes aren’t usable. I didn’t open the suitcase or boxes. I need to know where to wash things.” He was very clipped and precise and stood there waiting, arms folded on his chest.

Jenny was impressed. He had gone through the room in little more than an hour. In the past she had put off working there because her daughter’s things brought back too many memories that she didn’t want to disturb. Darlene had done her a big favor by taking away the worst decisions.

After lunch they carried useless things to the trash. Others went into a box for the school rummage sale. Darlene put the washables in a rackety old washer and turned it on.

Next Jenny she asked him to check the boxes and suitcase. One box contained dolls which Darlene pulled out one by one and set on the dresser. Most were nice but some stuffed animals were sad with bent ears and stuffing sticking out. “I can sew them up,” he thought. “Maybe poor kids can play with them.” The other box yielded school report cards, old vaccination certificates, snapshots of a young girl and her chums, lesson copy books and souvenirs from places like Marine World, Fisherman’s Wharf, the Cliff House etc. At the bottom were two different snapshots of a very young boy who looked like a twin to the girl.

The suitcase oddly yielded clothes for a small boy and a dress the same size. They were musty but still good. Kirk tossed the washed clothes and curtains into the dryer, then sat repairing stuffed animals for the rest of the afternoon.

When he was done Jenny called him to supper. She was a Vegan vegetarian so they had lots of fresh carrots, broccoli and spaghetti. Surprisingly it was tasty and filling. He ate quickly and started to get up.

“I have to get the laundry and finish the ironing,” he explained. Jenny waved him down and said, “Let’s sit in the living room and have pie made from those berry bushes outside. Your mother said you have lots of dreams and I want to hear about them. I like dreams.”

He looked in a mirror and flicked a hair. “Can you wait a minute. I need to wash and change first. After all the dust and dirt I feel so icky. Could I wear one of the dresses in the closet? I forgot to bring a change.”

Jenny nodded impressed with the boy’s firmness and self-confidence. She didn’t remember her daughter being that way, or herself for that matter. He was back in a jiffy in a floral short sleeve cotton dress with white collar and cuffs. His hair had been combed and dressed with red barrettes.

“Can you tie me in back, Jenny?” he asked. Sitting upright he carefully arranged his skirts, knees together as he held the spoon and cup. “This is good” he smiled. “How long have you lived here, Jenny?” he asked in a rather adult way.

“Longer than I like to think, Kirk. Is it Kirk or Darlene ?” Jenny continued to be impressed with the boy’s feminine persona. “Your mother said you were really a boy.”

Kirk blushed, turned his head down and said in a small voice, “Yes, but I like girl’s clothes, especially skirts and dresses. I used to wear pants all the time but after one of my dreams I don’t wear them anymore, not even girls’ pants. Besides mom won’t let me wear them. She wants me to be her little girl.”

“Mom and Sandy call me Darlene and old Bill calls me Marlene. Even mom calls me Marlene sometimes. They get me mixed up with my cousin but I don’t mind. I kind of like it and I think Marlene wouldn't either. But I want to be called Darlene from now on. I’ve made up my mind.”

Kirk’s admissions were a surprise. “It’s all right with me, Darlene. I think boys should be able to wear dresses. In my house you can wear anything you want or be anybody you like.”

“You did a terrific job of cleaning up Della’s room. I’m going to tell you a secret I haven’t told many people. My daughter used to be a boy, but wanted to wear dresses like you. Now she’s a girl and lives with her boyfriend in the city. You’re the first person I’ve told that to in a long time.”

Darlene was surprised to hear there were other boys like him. So he told Jenny about the Emma, Clara and Ana dreams, how Marlene comes to visit at night, how they go upstairs to the funny room with two doors and sit with the girls, how they move into him and he has more dreams. He gets scared and doesn’t know what to do but goes along with it. Afterward he thinks about things differently, especially after his dream about Emma. Jenny listened intently to Kirk interrupting only now and then to encourage him when he faltered. When they were done it was nearly bedtime.

Jenny said “Well, I’m getting old and need to get to bed. Let me help you with the things upstairs.” They moved the old clothes to the vanity and dresser tops. Darlene pulled out a practical cotton nightgown and a pair of fuzzy slippers. Jenny kissed him and tucked him in.

She didn’t go to bed right away. She sat looking at the photos Linda brought, then leafed through books that dealt with occult matters like spirit possession, sudden behavior change and places in the world that were supposed to be power spots. She thought about Darlene’s description of the Michi dream. It sounded familiar and she couldn’t think why. Tomorrow she would rummage through her papers and see if she could refresh her memory. She went over notes on her transgender clients. Mostly she remembered her daughter.

One of her final thoughts was that the strong resemblance between Marlene and Darlene must have something to do with everything that’s going on. She prayed for understanding of Kirk’s situation. She had decided to help him or her if there anything she could do.

While Darlene slept Jenny sat quietly on the couch for another hour with her eyes closed, then reminded herself of Darlene’s description of Michi. Then she spoke. “Are you there Marlene?” Silence for a time, then a pale version of Darlene in an Orphan Annie dress stood next to the table.

TWINS by Marie C., Part 17 - Jenny’s House, Day 2
by Marie C.

In the morning Darlene had restored the girl’s room to perfect order in twenty minutes. Drawers were lined with paper ready for use and the floor mopped and waxed. He went across to Jenny’s room and on second examination found it to be as spartan as her downstairs was littered. The furniture consisted of a bed, dresser, long mirror, bedside table, chair and a closet. There were a number of dresses, smocks and loose fitting trousers which he had inspected last time. He found a few skirts and dresses that were now obviously too small for Jenny, wading boots, moccasins and sensible walking shoes in good condition. The drawers yielded an assortment of serviceable and comfortable underwear of various kinds, all clean but disarrayed. In the closet were boxes of old photo albums, legal papers and clippings on plants and animals which he left alone. A pull rope opened a trapdoor in the ceiling revealing a folding staircase going up which Darlene did not attempt to climb.

The bath between the two rooms yielded a bin of dirty towels and wash cloths. The medicine cabinet was a biohazard. By noon everything in Jenny’s room had been reinstalled and the bathroom was squeaky clean.

“Darlene, I’m impressed. I don’t think my upstairs has ever been so neat. Now I want you to see some of the nice things that belonged to my grandmother and her sisters if they haven’t gone to rot. If you had all that experience in your dreams like you said we should be able to go through them pretty quick.”

Jenny pulled down the creaky stairs and flicked a jury-rigged light switch at the top. Scattered around the untouched space Darlene saw four or five old trunks, a table, mirror, chairs and other things too lost in shadow to make out. Jenny apologized as she coughed in the dust that welled up with every step. She hadn’t been up here for years. Exasperated, Darlene opened the windows at each end of the space in an attempt to expel the musty atmosphere and refused to open any trunks until he could bring up the vacuum and clear out the worst of the dust.

The odor of moth balls wafted out when they opened the first trunk. As Darlene lifted the delicate material Jenny excused herself and left him alone. One by one the garments were hung out to air. Most looked like the kind worn by Emma and the McDougals - old shirtwaists, skirts, petticoats, corsets and special occasion frocks. Most were too big for Darlene although they were in surprisingly good condition. A pair of high button shoes seemed dried out, but wearable. Another trunk yielded children’s clothing including dresses in his size. Going through them all right now would be a big job.

He especially liked one frock with a square neck line, three-quarter sleeves and lace skirt over a cotton underskirt. Its neck and sleeves were lace dotted with hand sewn rosettes and the waist trimmed with a large satin bow. He laid it out and decided he had to try it on. After a rinse in cold water and a careful pressing he held it up to the mirror. He needed a big matching hair ribbon which he found near the bottom of one trunk along with cotton drawers and a slip which needed shaking out. He found a pair of ankle high girl’s shoes with a one inch heel, cracked but serviceable. He hung the ensemble in Della’s old closet for later on. He would surprise Jenny that evening.

After a bath he put on one of Della’s play dresses after his stint in the attic, a dark blue with tiny polka dots, white collar and short sleeves. Jenny didn’t have any cosmetics to speak of but he wouldn’t need any for the lovely frock, after all it was from Emma’s time and they didn’t use things like lipstick back then.

By the time he got downstairs it was late in the day and Jenny had long since done with her day’s appointments. Right then she was talking to a latina woman and a tall, dark-haired girl who he remembered as Marlene’s friend Leticia. He hadn't seen Leticia since the birthday parties and never really met her mother so was uncertain about going in.

Jenny turned hearing Darlene’s footsteps on the stairs and called him over. “Darlene come meet some neighbors of mine, Addie and Leticia.”

Leticia was taller now, actually by several inches on Darlene, and developing into a physically attractive teen-ager. Today she had on a bright pink scoop neck T-shirt with cap sleeves, hip hugger jeans that flattered her evolving curves and open-toed wedge sandals. She stared openmouthed. “Marlene?”

Her mother was just as astonished because Marlene had been a constant presence at their house. She had seen “Darlene” only one time at the birthday party and didn’t known he was a boy until Leticia told her on the way home.

The girl tilted her head after a second doubtful look and frowning said “No, it’s not Marlene. Who are you?” Wheels in her mind began turning and she grinned. “It’s Kirk. Gosh you look and move just like Marlene. You’ve really changed.” After another pause she came over and gave Darlene a big hug with tears in her eyes, something she wouldn’t have done four years ago.

Darlene spoke in his now rather adult voice. “It’s Kirk, Leticia,” returning the hug and giving air kisses. “I live with Linda and I’m Darlene now. Remember, it’s the name you and Marlene gave me.” He smiled and made an exaggerated curtsey.

“Are you a girl now?” A thousand questions were forming in her head.

“No, but I’m kind of confused. Jenny wants to talk to me.” He didn’t say anything about the dreams.

Leticia’s mother said they had to go so there were more hugs and promises to get together. On the way home Addie and Leticia decided not to tell anyone about Darlene being a boy. During dinner the only thing Leticia’s mother let out was there was a girl at Jenny’s who looked an awful lot like Marlene.

One of Leticia’s brothers excused himself from the table and left the room looking pale.

Jenny wanted to know how Darlene knew Leticia, so he went into the details of Marlene’s party, how the girls got him into all this and how he hadn’t seen the girl since. When the dinner dishes were done he told Jenny he was going upstairs again and would be back in a minute.

The Edwardian frock almost beckoned to him like a living thing. He pulled the drawers over his corset which he had actually brought with him, lifted the slip over his head and finally the delicate dress. When he arranged his hair and pinned in a big ribbon he felt like he should be waiting for Emma to arrive and take him somewhere special. After preening at the mirror briefly he went back down.

Jenny looked up to see an appealing, angelic child. “Darlene, you look so sweet I want to hug you to death. I can’t imagine you as anybody but a girl.” Darlene lifted his skirt showing off the lace-trimmed drawers with a shy smile.

“Let me show you an old picture.” Jenny flipped pages in a crumbling old photo album and pointed to a fading sepia tone portrait. “You’re wearing my grandma’s birthday dress from 1909.” In the photo a dark haired girl with big rope curls posed in the dress with a large doll. A studio name and the year were hand lettered in the margin.

Jenny gave the boy a big squeeze with more enthusiasm than usual. She didn’t usually get involved in such “girlie” things but Darlene was so captivating. “Some day I want to fix your hair with those big curls. You’ll look just like the doll I had when I was little.”

Jenny was breaking a rule of her own: Don’t influence a client one way or the other in their life choices. But Darlene was so fetching, she thought. She brought out a small ornate box inlaid with mother of pearl. Inside were a cameo locket on a gold chain, small pearl earrings and a child’s gold bangle.

“These belonged to my great grandmother,” she said as she gently inserted the small studs and linked the cameo behind his neck. The bangle slid neatly over his hand. He looked precious.

When she was done Jenny finally realized she had been unwittingly drawn into the boy’s feminine persona. She took a breath and cleared her mind. The energy from the hill was affecting her too.

“Well now, sit here on my lap and tell me more about your dreams and especially about Marlene.” Darlene climbed on Jenny’s lap while she straightened his dress as she would have with a doll. She put her arms around his waist and he leaned on her shoulder. He felt very comfortable with Jenny and talked more about the dreams and his scary feelings.

When it seemed like he was done Jenny said “I’m going to do something that might help you feel better. First, I want you to drink a cup of tea that makes you sleepy.” She had found her notes describing an Indian ceremony much like the one Darlene described from his dreams and had decided to experiment.

She cleared off the parlor table and covered it with a white cloth. Darlene drank down a whole cup of Jenny’s special tea, climbed up on the table and lay on his back. She arranged the exquisite frock and spread the boy’s hair around his shoulders telling him to take six deep breaths and think about lying in a warm, sunny field of flowers. She lighted a candle at each point of the compass starting with north, then positioned bowls around the room which she filled with dried herbs and leaves. After each bowl was lit the room became smoky. Darlene lay there drowsy under the influence of the tea. It was fully dark outside now and there was no light in the room except for candles.

“Do you feel o.k., honey?” she asked.

“Yes, Jenny.” He seemed to answer from a distance thought Jenny. Even the occasional passing car seemed miles away.

While Darlene slept Jenny sat quietly on the couch for another hour with her eyes closed, then reminded herself of Darlene’s description of Michi. Then she spoke. “Are you there Marlene?” Silence for a time, then a pale version of Darlene in an Orphan Annie dress stood next to the table.

“You bet,” said a spunky, teasing voice though not entirely unlike Darlene’s.

“Come sit next to me.” The pale girl came over and perched next to Jenny a little uncertain but gaining solidity as she sat there. “You’ve been busy with your cousin, haven’t you. I think you’ve been kind of naughty,” Jenny said with a mock frown.

Marlene grinned “Kirk, I mean Darlene likes being a girl.” She put her hand to her mouth. “You can see me and talk to me!”

Jenny put her arm around the child.

“You can touch me!” Marlene said with some surprise and tears in her eyes.

The cats came over. Persephone rubbed against Marlene’s leg. Diablo hopped up on the back of the couch and sniffed her hair. She reached up petting him and squealed “I can play with the kitties too!”

Jenny pulled out a pocket handkerchief and Marlene blew her nose, still sniffling.

“There’s a lot of power here next to the creek when the water’s flowing. That’s why I can touch you. Plus much of your strength comes from your cousin because you’re twins, though I don’t know why that should be. Outside of that, you’ve done quite a job of turning him into a girl, you and that bunch at the house. You should all be ashamed.”

Marlene put on a big grin “It’s fun, and he likes it! He’s more of a girl now than a boy. Even you say so.” She looked Jenny in the eye.

Jenny pulled the girl closer and let her talk about everything she had been through, her new connection with Darlene and the girls in the house. Jenny could tell Marlene didn’t really know what had happened to her except in a general way. She probably knew that she was no longer alive, at least not in the way that Darlene was, but Jenny didn’t want to go there. It was better to let things come out on their own if at all. Unsurprisingly Marlene didn’t remember anything before waking up at the house.

When Marlene was done Jenny said “Darlene come over here.” Darlene woke and climbed down from the table. Jenny saw another Darlene still on the table. Incredible, she thought.

Oh, Darlene , what a scrumptious dress,” Marlene chirped and merged with Darlene without so much as a word. The single figure ran upstairs and looked in the mirror. Jenny heard Marlene say “Oh neat, awesome.” In a minute she/he clumped back down Jenny’s stairs like a herd of elephants.

When they returned Jenny was looking at one girl. She had never seen anything like this. An older woman once described something similar but Jenny never knew what to make of it.

“Come on now, I want to see both of you. Out Marlene!” One of the twins stepped to the side showing a pouty lip.

“It’s so much fun with Darlene,” she (or he?) said. They were dressed identically and Jenny could not tell who was who. The one with the slight frown was probably Marlene, she thought. She remembered Darlene’s description of the Indian ceremony. Did Michi see something like this? Jenny wondered.

“Darlene, honey, get us some of that blackberry pie.” One of the twins stepped away toward the kitchen and Jenny could hear dishes rattling. Finally he returned with three plates on a tray. They each took a dish and began eating.

At one point Jenny looked at the sleeping figure and said “Is there a boy Kirk here?” Silence. Then a pale translucent boy twin in a plaid shirt and jeans stood next to the girls. It was hard to see him at first unless he moved against one of the candles. He grew more solid as he stood there.

How much of the boy was left, she wondered. “Hello, Kirk, I’m Jenny. Look around and tell me who you see.”

He looked and said “Two Marlenes.” Something dawned “You’re me,” he said to one of the twins.

“Kirk, that’s you. You’re almost a girl.” Marlene giggled.

“Marlene, keep quiet.” Jenny glared.

Kirk and Darlene looked at each other. Kirk frowned, put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a battered wallet. He picked through the worn folds and dropped a snapshot on the coffee table - a picture of his dad, mom and himself together years ago. He took a bite of pie not looking at anything in particular or saying anything, then climbed back on the table without a word and faded into the sleeping form.

Jenny felt a lump in her throat. “Darlene, you go on get on the table too.” When he did, Jenny said “Now Marlene you do the same.” Marlene lay down and merged with her cousin. “I’m going to do something that will take a few minutes.” To herself she added, “Then we’ll wait for tomorrow.”

Jenny sprinkled more powders and leaves in the saucers, lighting them as she went and letting them burn until the room became smoky again. This time the animals yowled, sneezed and bolted out through the cat door.

Jenny inhaled deeply several times bringing on a coughing fit that required her to lean on the table for support. When the congestion passed she stood quietly over the sleeping form with arms at her sides and eyes closed. She looked like she was asleep.

When she moved she covered Darlene’s face lightly with both hands and smoothed his hair, then moved her hands lightly down his body hesitating at key points much as Michi did with the twins. Both hands stopped at his lower abdomen where she increased the pressure. A warm light glowed through her hands and receded. She stood longer without moving, then seemed to wake. Returning to the couch she rested sweating and wheezing until the smoke cleared. She felt exhausted.

“Darlene, honey, it’s time for bed.”

Darlene lifted his head looking confused. “I fell asleep and had more dreams about Marlene. This time you were in it.” He took Jenny’s hand and they went upstairs.

After Darlene was safely tucked in Jenny sat up for awhile trying to remember what just happened. There wasn’t much she could remember. Tonight was one of the most unusual experiences she had been through, much more so than walking through her daughter’s changes. She firmly believed now that she was here because of Darlene, or at least that was one reason. She had been assigned to this job by what or whom she couldn’t say. There was no one and nothing she could appeal to. She put everything away and got ready for bed.

Next she would visit Linda’s house and do what she could to help bring this curious situation to a positive conclusion.

“To tell the truth when I look at you I don’t see a boy,” Jenny remarked as casually as she could. “You’re everything a mother could want in a sweet child. You never get upset when we call you Darlene. Right this minute you’re more of a girl than Della ever was.”

TWINS by Marie C., Part 18 - Leticia
by Marie C.

Darlene woke up on Della’s bed. Dimly he remembered a dream with Marlene with himself wearing his old plaid shirt and jeans. Nothing important he guessed. Strange that Jenny’s girl used to be a boy and here he was.

He pulled Della’s kelly green sun dress off the hanger, one with wide shoulder straps and a square cut bodice. It had been hanging in a far corner of the closet unnoticed til late yesterday. He decided against the corset this morning. Actually he’d been neglecting it with all the housework, learning slowly that heavy physical labor and women’s fashion aids were not always compatible.

For the first time that day he looked in the mirror and seemed surprised. “My skin is so clear this morning. I don’t remember that,” he muttered. His fingers moved lightly over a smooth chin, creamy neck and lips a darker red than he remembered. No matter how hard he tried the lip color wouldn’t rub off. The light chafing simply brought out more color. Lush fine hair tickled his shoulders while he pulled a white hair band over his head framing his face and making it seem more oval. “My hair wasn’t like that before, was it?”

“I wish I was Emma,” he daydreamed for the thousandth time twirling in front of the glass. The feeling was very strong today. “She’s so graceful.” He remembered Ana Maria again and how proud he felt about getting her away from being the third child in her family, the fate of being an older sibling in competition with her own babies. He especially liked her feeling of being a mother. Memories of nursing the boys brought a rush of pleasure and an attractive coloring to his cheeks.

Observing himself again in front of the long cheval he stood erect and resolute without thinking,, his posture by now pure habit. He was pleased with his movements which were measured, graceful and precise. At that moment there were no second thoughts about being a boy in girl’s clothes. He made an effort to see himself in a plaid shirt and jeans again but the image in his mind wouldn’t focus clearly.

“Jenny, you said your daughter used to be a boy.” They were at the breakfast table. “How did she get to be a girl? I’m a boy and I used to play basketball and football all the time with my dad. Now I’ve mostly forgotten how and think about girls’ things. That’s not normal, is it?”

Jenny replied in calculated tones sensing that this was one of Darlene’s most sensitive issues. “Well I’m not sure what happened with Della. She grew up as Daniel, played baseball and made model airplanes. When she was ten years old she started having dreams just like yours. One day I found her playing dress up with some neighbor girls and after that she asked me to buy her a dress and dolls of her own. I didn’t know what to do so I went to see a lady like your mom came to see me.”

“Later we went to a doctor in San Francisco who made some tests and gave her medicine. Della just started changing and after a year there was no boy left. That’s all I know. I would have been happy with her whatever she turned out to be.”

“Am I going to be a girl?” Darlene said eyes and mouth pensive. He thought about it and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, especially if he would be like Emma who would not leave his mind.He always returned to Emma. But wasn’t there still the business of he shouldn’t, because he’s a boy. For the first time he realized he’d been running that phrase over and over in his mind for months like one of those old phonograph records with a chipped groove. And here he was telling everyone to call him Darlene.

“To tell the truth when I look at you I don’t see a boy,” Jenny remarked as casually as she could. “You’re everything a mother could want in a sweet child. You never get upset when we call you Darlene. Right this minute you’re more of a girl than Della ever was.”

Jenny went on. “I don’t know if you’re going to change into a girl. Do you want to? If you don’t then we need to talk about it. But before we talk any more let’s go upstairs first. I want to see you in my grandmother’s dress again and fix your hair like that picture. We can talk while we’re doing that.” Jenny was smiling almost gleefully like a little girl with her doll, not something she did very often.

Darlene stood while Jenny gently removed his clothes piece by piece substituting the bloomers, button shoes, slip and lace dress. The only time he frowned was when he saw his small sex organ. Was it smaller than before? Then she combed out his hair, fluffed it into curls and pinned in the large white bow though she wasn’t successful in producing a good set of rope curls. That could take hours she now realized. “Now walk around and show me how pretty you are.”

Twirling back and forth Darlene gave a deep curtsey, his head tilted to one side. “What do you think, Jenny?”

“I think you’re better than any girl I’ve seen.” She clapped and without thinking Darlene averted his eyes.

“Was the pitch of his voice higher today?” Jenny thought. “Was last night actually having some effect? Just then Linda called from downstairs.

“Come on up. Our Darlene’s showing off.” She caught herself saying “Our Darlene.”

At the door Linda gushed “What a beautiful dress, sweetie.” She couldn’t help coming up to examine the fabric. “It must be a hundred years old, Marlene. And you look stunning. Oh, there I go again calling you Marlene.”

“It’s o.k., mom, I don’t mind.”

Jenny was momentarily surprised at his reply though after thinking about it she realized she shouldn’t be, especially after what happened the evening before. She was struggling to keep a professional distance from Darlene’s situation. But why was it so hard? Why was it nearly impossible?

“Darlene, model the dress for your mother.” He blushed and went through his little routine looking over his shoulder in the mirror, hair twisting around his shoulders like a Clairol ad.

Taking Linda aside Jenny half-whispered “He’s been very girlish the whole time. Frankly it’s hard to see him ever growing up as a boy. By the way there’s no charge for my time. He was so helpful around the house I owe you something.” She didn’t say anything about the previous night’s events.

As they were getting ready to go Jenny asked again if she could stay a night at Linda’s house and observe Darlene a little more. Sometime next week perhaps? This time Linda agreed without hesitation.

Back home Linda stared at her nephew. “Sweetie you’ve really been taking care of your skin and hair. Did you like Jenny?”

“Oh, yes mom. I cleaned up her daughter’s room and got to look in her grandma’s trunks. That’s where I found that scrumptious dress. I wish I had one like it.”

He didn’t say anything unusual today, Linda thought, but there was a difference. Was his voice changing? Was it the inflection? Choice of words?

While she was in San Francisco she had briefly talked to a woman doctor whose name Laura got from the office files. The doctor agreed to see Kirk although she wanted to make a thorough examination before making any diagnosis. She warned Linda that nobody knew much about transgendered children. There was simply nothing in the literature except a few nonobjective accounts based on personal observation. Linda was puzzled by the word “transgendered” never having heard it before. She felt better knowing there might be other kids like Kirk, er Marlene. Darn it - Darlene!

“Oh, I saw Addie on the way back. She said she saw you at Jenny’s. She and Leticia are going to come over this afternoon. I haven’t seen her for a couple of years.” To herself she thought has it been that long? Have I lost that much time? She rubbed her temples with both hands and frowned as Darlene watched with concern.

Darlene grimaced remembering how rotten Leticia could be but agreed to the meeting however halfheartedly. “O.k., mom. She can help me in the sewing room.”

Leticia sauntered into the sewing room with a smirk on her face, stood in the center with one hip cocked and made a face like she was ready to take on anybody and everybody. She had on a hot pink halter top, tight cutoffs and sandals. Bright red lipstick and nail polish made her look like a teenage hooker. Kirk was sorting the mending as she moved closer. “My, my, what a lady you’ve turned into. I always thought you were a sissy boy. Now you’ve proved it.” She was sneering.

Darlene turned to face her this time openly angry, a new behavior for our hero(ine). “Oh, stop it, Leticia! I enjoy helping mom and really don’t care what you think. You’ve always been so gross and haven’t changed a bit.” He turned away miffed and continued snapping skirts into their hangers. Over his shoulder he added “If you want to help you can fold blouses. If you came over just to make things miserable, get the heck out.” He went back to what he was doing and ignored her.

“Well, you’ll never take Marlene’s place. She was fun and not all prissy like you are.” Leticia’s face crumpled and she began to cry. “I miss her.”

Darlene melted, turned and put his arms around Leticia. “So do I, but in lots of ways she’s still around.” He gave her a squeeze but didn’t elaborate.

“Is your voice getting higher? It sounds more like Marlene’s than it did when I saw you the other day.”

Darlene blushed prettily and put his hand to his mouth. “I don’t know. I never noticed. Well, we’re done here. Let’s go to my room.”

“You’ve got her room. And it’s still the same,” Leticia said as Darlene opened the door. More tears. “There’s Growl and Susie and her Barbie set.” She walked over to the closet. “All her dresses are here. You really are taking her place aren’t you? Let me take a good look at you,” she said wiping her eyes with both arms. Darlene found her a hankie that served to soak up a good loud honk.

Like Marlene Leticia pushed him onto the vanity bench without a word and started brushing. “Your hair is really pretty, nicer than Marlene’s, so full. Here, turn your head. Your skin is so nice. Not a like boy’s.” She looked puzzled like she couldn’t find the right words.

Darlene smiled at himself. For the first time Leticia’s words felt good. But it seemed like today everyone was talking about his skin and hair, including himself. What’s going on, he wondered?

“You don’t care when I say things like that, do you?” she went on. “Pretty soon I’m going to get mixed up and call you Marlene and you won’t mind that either.”

Leticia’s expression gradually changed from bafflement to fiendish. She had to resist hopping up and down with glee when she said “God, I love turning you into a girl. I want you to blossom and have guys follow you around and hit on you. I bet you think about it.”

Darlene averted his eyes, flustered again and remembered Eric, the handsome man at Madame’s and Ana’s Peter. Leticia kept up the pressure seeing his confusion. “I want you to meet my boy friends. You’re pretty enough. But we’ll have to get you some falsies until yours grow in. You’ll like having a real pair.” She grinned putting hands under her breasts and lifted the small mounds like White Trash Billie did.

“But I, I, I’m a.....” Darlene stammered in one of his moments of doubt.

“You’re a boy? Ha, ha ha ha. Come stand in front of the mirror.” There was Marlene without the bossy attitude. No question.

“Does that look like a boy?” Darlene looked down without comment. “So don’t bother thinking about it anymore because you’re not. Besides, I’ve got my best friend back.” She kissed him on the cheek and gave him a squeeze. He didn’t see the devilish expression on her face as she backed away.

After Leticia and Addie left Darlene lay on the bed thinking about what the girl said. Curious, he got up again and looked in the vanity mirror. His face was softer, his lips full, his eyes wide and naive-looking.

“Oh, I haven’t done my nails for awhile.” He proceeded to wipe off the old polish, push back the cuticles and shape his nails into pretty ovals. A pale pink polish came last. His fingers and toes were drying when Linda called him for dinner.

Emma put her sewing down on the table with an annoyed look. “Come here,” she said gently and we slid together, Emma all healthy and wearing a corset and long skirts. “It’s good to be a proper lady again,” he thought.
TWINS by Marie
Part 19 - Emma.4
by Marie C.

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“Twin, wake up. Come on, we have to get upstairs.” Marlene charged into the closet and started making a terrible racket.

Darlene responded languorously this time, stretching both arms, brushing his hair back. “I’m tired of you being in a hurry. What if I don’t feel like it? Then what would you do?” Though by the time he finished the sentence he was on all fours searching under the bed for his mules. Actually he looked forward to going upstairs tonight. Visits with the girls were getting interesting if at times a bit harrowing. When he tried going up during the day he couldn't get the door open.

“I’d haunt you all day and night,” she answered. “You’d never be able to sleep.” He could barely make out her words, muffled as she was by tightly packed clothes, rummaging noises and hangers and boxes being pushed aside.

She came out with two yellow ankle-length Snow White type costumes with low necks and huge short puffy sleeves. Pearls and small beads were scattered over the bodices and back apparently sewn in by hand.

“What a dumb choice,” Darlene said sleepily head on hands, elbows on vanity. “Besides I’m tired of you bossing me around. You go alone. If I feel like it, I’ll come up - maybe.” A rather sham display of stubbornness he admitted even to himself - and where did those clothes come from? Where did she find even half the ones she brought out

“Let’s wear corsets this time,” she chortled. “I don’t like them but you’re right they give us better figures.” She produced two corsets from inside the closet and pulled the fastenings tightly on Darlene until he groaned. He got his revenge by lacing Marlene until she shrieked.

Lacy silk drawers, black stockings and low heeled white pumps came next. She found two white wigs from somewhere which made them look like an 18th Century painting. Makeup was theatrical with lots of white powder and bright red lipstick. Marlene insisted on a black beauty spot for the right cheek. She pulled Darlene to the mirror and took charge of minor adjustments while he waited complacency incarnate. With chandelier pierced earrings and dog collar cameos they were ready for an audience with Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI - before their unfortunate accident.

As they started up the stairs hand in hand Darlene stopped and gave her a hug. “I still love you even though you’re so darn bratty.”

She kissed him back. “I love you too even though you’re just a wimpy boy!”

“You didn’t have to say that,” he retorted fuming and taking a mock swing at her as she reached the door.

Ignoring his unsuccessful violence she turned serious. “You have to help Leticia and be her best friend like I was. She has a hard time with her brothers. You’re almost doing a good job of being me, but stop worrying whether you’re a boy or girl, because you really aren’t a boy anymore. Not really.”

Darlene didn’t answer. Down inside he knew she was right.

“Well here’s our Bobbsey Twins again.” Clara was outstandingly snide tonight as they came in. In the mood for a night of hazing Darlene thought. “Whoa, something’s happening to our sissy boy. Look at his skin, his hair, his lips. Or should I say hers (cackle, cackle).”

“What’s wrong with them?” Darlene said his voice rising. “Hey, his voice has changed. It’s girlie now. Pretty soon he’ll be Miss Soprano - and not one of the mafia (more cackles).”

Emma put her sewing down on the table with an annoyed look. “Come here,” she said gently and we slid together, Emma all healthy and wearing a corset and long skirts. “It’s good to be a proper lady again,” he thought.

Abby and I wore our huge, new hats which madame had covered with fake flowers and pheasant feathers. They made us taller than most of the men we saw. Fawn-colored ankle length skirt suits and matching kidskin high shoes, gloves and handbags were the style today. We twirled our open parasols thinking we looked very grown up indeed. We had sneaked out of the hotel unchaperoned to window shop along Market Street!

Today we were in the big city with Mr. McDougal, coming to be fitted for evening gowns. Abby was getting engaged to Harvey Tobin, son of a wealthy San Francisco banker. Tomorrow night we were guests of honor at Harvey’s home where their betrothal would be formally announced. I’m going to be Maid of Honor at Abby’s wedding.

We passed two workmen lounging on a pile of lumber. Both stared rudely as we approached and one croaked “Hey, Gus, t’row yer glims on dat layout!” to be followed by Gus’s equally unintelligible “Chure yer dead next! (pause) Ain’t Frisco a bear?”

Chins high we glided past shrugging off their loutish behavior and placed fingers to lips to keep from giggling. At the street corner we lost control and laughed all the way back to the Palace Hotel. Passersby frowned and muttered as we hurried past. They must have thought we were two escaped lunatics.

Mr. Mcdougal was furious when he learned we had been outside unescorted. We were banished to our room all day until dinner. I thought I was going to get it but Mr. McD. knew his daughter well enough to figure out who instigated our misbehavior. Whenever mischief has been done you can always find Abigail nearby. I think her future husband will have his hands full.

The next morning at Madame’s the gowns we ordered weeks ago were lacking only a few finishing touches. While we waited in the main salon Mary and Millie showed us all the new styles and gushed over Abby’s coming engagement. As we examined the new French fabrics I half-saw an older woman walk by holding the hand of a pretty girl of about twelve. The girl’s dress was white, high-necked and lace-decorated with three-quarter sleeves and a calf-length skirt. Her broad white hat trailed satin ribbons down the middle of her back. She wore black cotton stockings and black button shoes with a one inch heel. Curly, blond hair fell to the middle of her back and mixed with the ribbons.

While Madame’s seamstress checked our measurements the girl came out of an alcove looked at me for a minute then came over. “Emma, Emma. I’ve missed you so much.” I turned to see her trailing a long dressing gown over a corset and silk drawers. She seemed familiar.

Mary tittered, “That’s William.”

I was astounded. He was a perfect little girl. “William, how are you. You look so pretty!”

“Oh, I’m not William anymore. Mummy tells everyone to call me Miss Elizabeth. You look so beautiful. I wish I could wear a nice dress like that, but I’m not grown up enough.” He put his hands to his chest.

Emma saw that he had small pearl ear studs in his lobes. His eyebrows had been shaped and his hands were immaculately manicured. There was a large white satin hair bow pinned to the right side of his head.

“Mummy and me and Miss Flint are going to Swich ..., Swizz ...”

Mary said “Switzerland.”

“Yes, Swizzerlan. I get to go to a nice school and mummy knows some doctors who can help me. I’m so excited.”

A saccharine-sweet voice floated from the alcove. “Elizabeth, dear, come back. We need to fit you for your birthday frock. You’ve been so good I’m getting you that pretty one.”

“That’s mummy. When I get it on I’ll show you.”

In a few minutes he was back with a stunning low necked floor length dress in pale blue satin with an exceptionally nipped waistline. “See how I can curtsey and turn. I get to be a princess at my party and I’m going to wear a tiara.” He touched his hair and executed a graceful twirl holding out one side of his dress.

Emma couldn’t help asking “Do you like being a girl?”

He blushed very prettily. “Well, mummy says if I’m good she’ll let me be a boy when I’m twenty-one. So, I’m trying to be nice and only play with girls now. I’ve even learned how to embroider my own dresses. If I’m not nice Miss Flint canes me. Once she spanked me with my dress pulled up in front of my friends. So I’ve been extra good.”

Darlene realized that today must be a long time after Emma’s last visit to Madame’s because there were so many changes in William. “He makes such a perfect girl,” she thought. Darlene wavered a bit thinking maybe he should get upset about William’s, er Elizabeth’s situation, but said nothing.

Mary whispered “Madame will be glad to see them go. Customers raise eyebrows whenever they come in, but nobody wants to face up to William’s mother or that awful Miss Flint.”

As Elizabeth and his mother left he waved prettily with his lace hanky.

Madame had finally readied our beautiful frocks. Mine was constructed from mauve silk, my favorite color and fabric, very décolleté and sleeveless with a three foot train. Abby loaned me a pearl choker and matching earrings. I chose elbow length white silk gloves and a pearl bracelet to wear over my left glove. Our hair and faces had been done at a deliciously extravagant hairdressers. It must have cost Mr. McDougal a fortune. Darlene was in heaven.

The hotel hansom carried us to the Tobins’ where menservants took our hands and helped us down to the pavement like real ladies. Climbing the front stairs was an adventure because we kept tripping on our tight skirts. I felt like a clumsy cow.

Harvey Tobin and a gentleman friend saw what was happening and gallantly rushed down to keep us from falling. In the process my train fell out of my hand and my foot slipped. I’m ashamed to say I showed an ankle to my rescuer. My chivalrous knight looked familiar.

Fortunately the Tobin stairs were spotless so there was no danger of soiling my gown. Pinafored maids with white caps ushered us into an elegant gilt and white powder room to freshen up. We stared openmouthed as another brought us bowls, wash cloths and oil for our skin. Nicasio seemed like a horse barn in comparison.

A footman announced us each by name as we entered the main salon and Abby’s Harvey escorted us to chairs in front of a carpeted dais. McDougal walked over to the senior Tobin muttering something about business to be done. Overhead a beautiful chandelier glittered, all lit by electricity!

“How thrilling to be so modern,” I thought.

A string quartet played Viennese waltzes next to a large buffet table. Several young men stood in a group by the fireplace mantel holding those cigarettes which I think are so much more genteel than cigars. I could hear them talking about the successful Portola Festival last year in 1909. One of them struck a pose with his cigarette and casually mentioned that he had been appointed to the Board of Directors of the Panama-Pacific Exposition. This drew the attention of several of Abby’s school friends who happened to be standing nearby. Fluttering fans and eyelashes dominated the scene for minutes it seemed.

Half a dozen girls from Abby's school and Harvey’s family were seated near us wearing elegant costumes. I couldn’t for the life of me remember a name although Abby introduced me to everybody. Harvey’s friend from the embarrassing stair climb was eyeing me closely, so I took care to move as gracefully as I could. I remembered him now as the young man who purchased the gloves at Madame’s. A banker’s son, oh my, I thought.

After we had been seated for a time dance cards were handed to the girls which the men had filled out. When the quartet struck up a second time I looked at mine. All the spaces were filled with the same name, Burton Crocker III. My rescuer bowed and said “I believe this is my dance.”

I had learned to waltz reasonably well from Miss Carradine so was ready and offered Mr. Crocker my hand. He was an excellent dancer as well I was pleased to note. Moving around in my tight gown and long train was nearly impossible, although I think I did well enough to please. Mr. Crocker whispered in my ear “You dance divinely and you are the most beautiful girl here, a thousand times more so than Abigail.” I lowered my eyelashes and looked away. I must have turned ten shades of pink.

“Abigail and her father cannot speak highly enough of you,” he continued. “Now, Mademoiselle, tonight I am your captive...” He lowered his voice and wrapped his hand around mine. “...trapped in your web from which I cannot possibly escape.” His eyes drilled into mine and I fanned myself furiously.

The dancing stopped when Harvey tapped on a piece of crystal ware. Then he stepped down and assisted Abigail onto the dais. Crocker took my elbow, led me to the front and stood by my side.

“Ladies and gentlemen you know why we are here. I am announcing my engagement to the loveliest girl in the Golden West, Miss Abigail McDougal.” Without further ceremony he looked into her eyes and pulled a ring box from his pocket. A brilliant diamond solitaire appeared which was placed on the fourth finger of her left hand. The audience applauded and the young men at the fireplace gave three cheers. With that the music began again.

“Would this ever happen to me?” Emma wondered. It was all so thrilling. Darlene was basking in Emma’s fascination without a single qualm. He was Emma again.

Crocker led me around the floor again and again, but after several dances I begged off and asked to sit. He brought me a glass of champagne, my first. He cautioned me not to drink too fast or I would get dizzy.

As I smiled up at him I thought “I have known him forever.” My heart was beating triple time and I felt lightheaded. Maybe it was the champagne but I didn’t think so.

After the party Abby and I stood near the door ready for our return to the hotel. Mr. McDougal and the senior Tobin had left earlier to go to their club and talk business so we were to go back with one of the Tobins’ servants as a chaperone. Before we could move Crocker stepped to my side and put his hand on my waist. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harvey pulling Abby into the other room which left me alone with Crocker. On purpose, I thought. I made a little face.

Once my friend and employer was out of sight Crocker seized the moment and repeated that I was the most beguiling female he had ever met. He wanted to see me again — soon. Perhaps some day I would wear his ring, he said. I kept fanning myself believing I would faint.

“Oh, sir,” I said, “you are so forward. I do not know you. Abby says good things about you but I must consider my station and what others think.” (“Why couldn’t I think of something else to say?” I wanted to hit myself over the head a hundred, no a million times.)

“Damn the others,” he whispered. “You are the most enchanting woman in the city. Rest assured I will have your hand.”

I fainted.

Darlene woke the next morning gradually aware of the change in surroundings. The shifts of gender, decades, even centuries could still be disorienting although he didn’t fall apart like he did the first time. His times with Emma were his favorite and she lingered in his mind more than the others. More than ever he wished he was her (You readers must be tired of hearing this.). Crocker’s near proposal of marriage was a complete surprise and left him just as overwhelmed as Emma. Just remembering caused his heart to flutter and his breath to come in gasps as he sat there on the edge of Marlene’s bed.

At the vanity he went to brush his hair and found it was in rollers. He didn’t remember putting it up. Marlene again, he thought exasperated. He picked a floral three-quarter sleeve day dress, his waist accentuated by the anachronistic corset. He looked at his perfect nails and hands and put on a light touch of lipstick. Tan pantyhose and low heeled sandals followed. An eyebrow hair here and there. It was second nature now. Would Mr. Crocker approve?

Linda was in the kitchen making breakfast. “Marlene, honey, would you bring over the eggs?” She groaned inwardly. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I called you Marlene.”

“It’s o.k. mom, you can call me Marlene. I don’t think she’d mind.” It felt o.k. when he said it today, still daydreaming about Abby’s ring. Stretching out his left hand he imagined a sparkly diamond sitting there and felt a little shiver.

“Honey, can you please bring the eggs?”Linda was speaking with some impatience.

“Oops, sorry mom,” I brought over the carton and managed not to break any.

Jeff Decker and Leo Fernandez headed north past the square in Decker’s new carryall. Looking ahead Leo saw a girl in a red sweater and jeans walking on the shoulder and recognized her as Marlene Sullivan, his sister’s little chum.

“Decker, that’s Marlene. Give the kid a ride. She’s probably headed to my place.” They pulled in front of her by a truck’s length and stopped. Leo waved. “Come on, Marlene, hop in.”

The girl looked up and saw Leo and a man she didn’t know. She shook her head. “No thanks, I’ll walk.” She didn’t like Leo and kept going.

Leo shrugged and Jeff dropped him at the ranch gate. Earlier Decker said he was going on to Petaluma, but as Leo watched Decker made a u-turn and went back the way they came. Three days later Decker drove up in a cloud of dust and asked Leo to hide a box of videotapes and a large sealed plastic sack. “Nobody touches these, you hear?” He gave Leo a hard look and handed him a bag of marijuana buds and some white pills.

Leo didn’t think any more about it until deputies came by asking about Marlene. He remembered what Decker once did to a guy who crossed him so he didn’t say anything. Decker was big and ugly and worked out regularly. Somebody said he knew karate.

So Leo was as good as his word. Besides anything could have happened to Marlene. She probably ran away.

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To Be Continued...

“Examining staff feel little would be accomplished by attempting to reverse subject’s current personality trend. Attempts to do so would likely result in psychological and emotional damage to both subject and adoptive mother. In view of the information assembled the study team recommends encouraging the subject’s feminine development."

TWINS by Marie
Part 20 - Diagnosis
by Marie C.

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Darlene rose early to look his girlish best for the appointment. He and Linda were going to San Francisco today for a big consultation with the doctor, part of Linda’s plan to see what could be done with Darlene’s increasingly feminine behavior. For the event he picked a pink and magenta plaid jumper to wear over a white jabot blouse with long bishop sleeves. He loved the airy feel of his thin nylon underwear and pantyhose and felt slightly embarrassed because it was like he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His hair was long enough for a chignon which he had pinned together with tortoise shell hairsticks. Pale lipstick and nails coordinated with the jumper. Pearl studs graced his ears and his own mother’s pearl pendant hung from a delicate gold chain around his neck. His low heeled tan strap sandals and shoulder bag matched perfectly.

He insisted that Linda change her clothes when she tried to leave the house wearing a dowdy brown polyester pants suit. Nothing less than her best pastel skirt suit and a jewel neck back button blouse would do. With a firm expression he stood over her while she changed into hose and heels with a big sigh. He insisted on picking the colors and accessories and she thought he was being too fussy.

As they were leaving he took another look in the hall mirror at the two of them together and was pleased with what he saw. The girl looked self-confident with a smooth, creamy complexion, wide open eyes, slender neck and sophisticated hairdo. Her mother looked city chic.

On the long drive he compared the scrawny body he saw in the mirror every morning to the girls’ figures he shared in his curious dreams. He especially remembered the feel of their firm skin and the shock of touching their intimate places. More and more often he wished he was different.

His thoughts drifted to Emma, his favorite “dream.” He wanted the best for her. She deserved it because she had struggled so much. He felt good about helping Ana find an adult’s place in her family with no sense of who she was. And if Ana wanted girls instead of boys wasn’t that her right to decide? But why did Michi’s ceremony seem so familiar?

The events with Emma and Ana all happened long, long ago he realized, if they happened at all. What were the dreams about? He looked over at Linda in the driver’s seat and she smiled back.

There were three appointments at the doctor’s office: a just-before-lunch interview by psychiatric social workers; an after lunch battery of tests administered by a psychologist; and a late afternoon physical exam including X-rays, blood and urine samples. Darlene and Linda would come back the following week for a fourth appointment after the examination team had met to compare notes and test results were complete.

The following week Dr. Gardner gave Linda and Darlene a summary of their findings. The full technical report was not shown to them but read as follows:

“The subject is a thirteen and one-half year old male in good health. Seeing him for the first time on the street one would assume without question that he was a preteen female. He prepares his clothing, hair and makeup without help according to his adoptive mother. At all times his behavior is graceful and pleasing. His dress is totally feminine, in good taste and done with attention to detail. As some women would say, “Not a hair out of place.” He seems quite self-assured as a female. Subject and his adoptive mother were cooperative at all times.

“As far as the adoptive mother knows his first episode of cross dressing began as a punishment by the boy’s father about five years ago at a birthday party of Mrs. Sullivan’s missing daughter. She hinted that he may have cross-dressed informally a few times before that with said missing daughter but was not paying attention at those times. The behavior resumed markedly when he moved to her home after losing both parents in quick succession.

“Subject’s responses to personality testing rate very high on the feminine attitude scale to the 95th percentile. Attempts to elicit masculine attitudes even as normally found in girls of this age yielded minimal results. Intelligence was scored at well above average (i.e. IQ 150-165). Subject describes a somewhat bizarre dream life and in view of that admission sections of the testing procedure were designed to elicit psychotic or severely neurotic ideation. Neither was forthcoming.

“Social responses during interviews were normal for a girl of 14 to 16 years. Frequently subject exhibited the behavior and speech of a girl nearer to 18. Grief for his natural parents was expressed openly and normally.

“Physical examination showed no anomalies. Subject’s voice is somewhat higher than would be expected in a boy. His skin is unusually delicate. Facial features while young and therefore androgynous appeared feminized perhaps because of the use of cosmetics, shaping of eyebrows and hair style.

“Adoptive mother, formerly his aunt, does not know what to make of the dreams and feels guilt about subject’s feminine development and her responsibility for it. She recently lost her daughter, apparently a female twin to the subject. Photos of the missing girl show a remarkable resemblance to the subject. The adoptive mother also lost her brother on military duty who was the subject’s father.

“On the other hand subject’s assistance to the adoptive mother in her business is described as phenomenal, subject having learned care and preparation of women’s apparel, both outer and intimate, and related fabrics within a remarkably short time. He has worked in other settings much in the manner of a professionally trained house manager apparently in a satisfactory manner.

“Subject displayed little interest in male-oriented activities throughout the interviews and considerable excitement, knowledge and practice about girls’ and women's’ interests.

“Etiology of the subject’s feminization is unknown but probably related to the loss of his parents. We conclude that the emotional trauma has triggered a latent desire to bring back the subject’s mother if only metaphorically. Subject’s dreams are interpreted as a symbolic way to make his feminization self-acceptable.

“Recommendations:

“Examining staff feel little would be accomplished by attempting to reverse subject’s current personality trend. Attempts to do so would likely result in psychological and emotional damage to both subject and adoptive mother. In view of the information assembled the study team recommends encouraging the subject’s feminine development.

“If both agree, estrogen and progesterone therapy shall be instituted immediately at extremely low experimental levels. Depending on results medication may be increased to levels common to girls of his age. Such a procedure would begin to match subject’s physical development with that of his personality. While such courses of treatment are normally contraindicated for children under the age of 16 there was no objection by any staff to initiating such an experiment.

“Full clinical evaluations shall be conducted monthly for at least three months to review the effects on subject and monitor his/her social development. A long term follow-up schedule will be developed after 90 days. Eventual goal should be sex reassignment surgery, date to be determined after at least one year of subject living and presenting himself successfully in public as a female, and in this case probably much longer, barring, of course, any contraindications .”

After reviewing the report with Linda and Darlene Dr Gardner urged them to begin. “Therapy consists of taking the prescription as ordered. Darlene will feel nauseous for about a week and then normal after that. In a few weeks time we think his development processes will shift from that of a young male to that of a female. We can see no reason to delay the procedure. Next month’s appointment will tell us how things are working and we can terminate the procedure any time. But the big question which we have asked several times is “Do you want to go through with it?”

All eyes were on Darlene. He spoke unhesitatingly - “Yes, I want to try it and see what happens.”

With no further coments from either Linda or Darlene Linda was told to call anytime if she had questions or if she noticed anything odd. Dr. Gardner then looked at Darlene and said “You will soon start to look like your mom.” Darlene blushed and turned his face away.

Linda’s spirits were rising as they stopped at the pharmacy. At long last somebody else was sharing the burden of Darlene’s problem. When he came down to breakfast the following day he saw the first pills sitting next to his bowl of oatmeal.

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To Be Continued...

The room was large, much larger than the tower looked coming up the driveway. There was the fireplace Darlene mentioned although Jenny hadn’t seen a chimney from the outside. A second well-lighted entrance opened at the back like the one she had come through, though the light was certainly odd, not something she could describe easily. Girls came up the other stairs and through the door as she watched. She accepted a chair brought over by a girl of about fifteen and thanked her. Everyone seemed to be waiting.

Part 21- Ritual

As Jenny packed for her stay at Linda’s she decided at the last minute to bring a case containing her herbs, candles and pots. She wasn’t sure why but thought she should be ready for anything. She was going there to observe, at least that’s what she told herself, but se had a feeling in light what had been happening. Walking the few steps to her car she paused sensing a tension in the valley that hadn’t been there before. Looking around she didn’t see anything different. The other decrepit houses looked the same; lights were on early at the Rancho anticipating the evening’s diners and revelers; a car sped by on the way to Drake Boulevard almost missing the turn and skidding a few feet on gravel before regaining traction.

Arriving at the Sullivan house was a surprise. Energy engulfed her like a tidal wave as she climbed the front stairs to the door. Her two suitcases suddenly weighed like styrofoam. The pains in her knees, back and neck vanished, her eyesight sharpened and the ringing in her ears stopped. At home she often had to use a cane, but not now. She felt like twenty again.

Linda and Darlene met her at the door. He was carefully dressed in a skirt, sweater and floral apron. His hair hung down in fetching curls. They led her around showing her Marlene’s room, Sandy’s office, the bath, Jenny’s bed in the sewing room and the stairwell to the tower. “That room is locked, but we can go up if you like,” Linda said.

Jenny begged off feeling it might be important to stay away for now, especially if Darlene’s descriptions were correct. Linda served coffee while Darlene busied himself in the sewing room. Jenny watched the boy for a time and saw how competently he handled a needle and thread - “As though born to it,” she mumbled. She could still see nothing masculine in his movements.

Linda described the medical exam and repeated the doctor's explanation for Darlene’s dreams and how his feminine behavior had started. “We’ve followed through on the recommendations and the nausea is gone now. He’s more or less back to normal.”

Jenny made no attempt to contradict or minimize the medical treatment. Nor did she describe everything about Darlene’s stay at her house. Whatever is happening to Darlene is something Jenny didn’t understand, just like with her own daughter. She wondered if she ever would, or if anyone could.

Walking through the house she didn’t sense any evil or good taking place, just an inexplicable process that centered around Darlene and his missing cousin. Jenny was more curious about it than afraid and it seemed more than ever as though she would be directed into some unspecified role possibly tonight.

With Linda’s permission she took a walk outside at dusk and looked at the building from different angles. Just an old house sitting on a dynamo, she thought. As she walked she thought she heard a distant hubbub, something like a theater lobby crowd before the first act, a murmur that came and went like ocean waves. There must be an evening dance at Druid’s Hall or the Rancho. Things could get rowdy at the Rancho if there was a good C&W band. Walking past the old servants’ cottage and ruined barn the energy dimmed. Moving her legs became an effort and chronic pains returned.

She continued for a distance and found some ruins. From the top of a mound she saw that the collapsed adobe structures were extensive although now they were little more than weather-worn rubble. She wondered if this was the original Spanish rancho.

She thought back to the day when Marlene went missing. Deputies and search parties combed the area around her house asking if she had seen the girl or anyone who looked strange. She hadn’t but now remembered that she had felt rather than heard a frightened child cry out. The two cats had perked up their ears and Diablo bolted through the cat door with a growl.

Jenny followed him as far as the creek bank, a dangerous thing in heavy brush where visibility is measured in inches, but she did not see anything. The cat continued and was quickly out of sight. Jenny thought he was heading north. After the child’s cry there were no more sounds outside of the house except water running in the stream and an occasional car on the road. The next day she tried again pushing through the thicket for several hundred feet up to her neighbor’s fence without result. She even crossed the community foot bridge to the other side ignoring its ludicrous NO TRESPASSING sign.

Something happened she knew, but she had no sense of what to do or where to start. What could she say to the deputies that anyone would believe? A helpless feeling nagged her for weeks.

In the twilight she picked her way through crumbling weed grown blocks and down a narrow game trail back to the house. From a distance the building seemed to glow. Perhaps it was an effect of the sunset. She wondered what the night would bring as she stepped through the same door that thirteen year old Emma entered in another lifetime. This time Jenny felt storng again.

Darlene and Linda went to bed after watching TV for awhile. Jenny sat up next to a reading lamp and peered at her small volumes on spirit possession and astral projection, not that they gave any clue as to what was going on. Most literature on the occult described floating furniture, knocks on the wall, exotic apparitions and flying saucers, subjects with great appeal to readers of the tabloids and usually debunked in a matter of weeks. Only now and then would a passage or chapter catch her eye and make her think.

She realized it was getting late and the house was quiet. She folded back the bed covers, but a small noise made her turn and look up. There was Darlene or Marlene in a plain white nylon gown and sandals with her hair hanging straight down her back. She looked like an evangelical figure, a pint-size Aimee Semple McPherson.

“Is it Marlene?” Jenny asked.

The girl nodded and solemnly declared, “We have to get my twin and go upstairs. Would you please bring your plants, Jenny?” Jenny set her book down and picked up the bag. “So I was right,” she thought and wondered what was coming.

Next door Darlene was still asleep. Marlene shook him. “Twin, twin, wake up. We’re going upstairs again. Tonight’s the night.”

He stirred immediately and stood by the bed. “I thought we might.” He stretched prettily brushing his hair back with both hands.

“Here, put on this gown.” Jenny watched as Marlene took command, dressed her cousin, then faced them both together at the mirror so she could make sure their outfits were identical.

“Darlene is the passive one,” Jenny thought. She made no effort to intervene and followed them up the stairs.

Standing in the door she looked at the large table. Seated around it in a rough circle were the girls Darlene described from her dreams. It took her an instant to realize they were not in costume, but the clothing of past epochs. “Remarkable,” she thought nodding in turn at each girl.

The room was large, much larger than the tower looked coming up the driveway. There was the fireplace Darlene mentioned although Jenny hadn’t seen a chimney from the outside. A second well-lighted entrance opened at the back like the one she had come through, though the light was certainly odd, not something she could describe easily. Girls came up the other stairs and through the door as she watched. She accepted a chair brought over by a girl of about fifteen and thanked her. Everyone seemed to be waiting.

As she sat Jenny was introduced to Emma of Darlene’s dream life. Clara was another as well as a Spanish looking girl in an old mantilla, then girls she would never be able to recall. “What a sight to remember. Amazing.”

Marlene opened the session like a master of ceremonies after rapping on the table. “Girls, this is Jenny. You know, the woman who lives by the creek.” Apparently some of them knew her or about her which amazed Jenny no end. Marlene was sounding and looking very much like a preacher standing there at the head of the table.

“We are celebrating Darlene’s wish to change. Each of us will give something to help her in life. Each of us will live a little in the new girl. Jenny, will you repeat your ceremony?” Jenny nodded and looked at Darlene who sat primly in his chair saying nothing, showing only a rather serious expression on his face.

“A sacrifice?” Jenny thought. “If so, a willing one. Or is there something else going on?” There were no obvious answers.

“Jenny, please light your herbs.”

Jenny slowly rose from her chair placing candles and bowls around the room repeating her movements of the other night, lighting the bowls as several girls volunteered to light the upright candles. Those seated at the table moved out of the way transferring their projects to nearby chairs or into carrying bags on the floor. When the room was sufficiently murky Jenny asked all to inhale deeply, hold, then exhale. Marlene helped Darlene disrobe and led him to the table where he lay down in the center and closed his eyes like he had at Jenny’s. Marlene then told the group to enter or touch Darlene one-by-one and tell him what she had to give.

Emma was first and lay down in Darlene saying she was giving him her love, body and the reminder always to be a proper lady. As she rose she was crying. Clara came over put her hands on his chest with her most evil grin. “She is going to have a real pair of knockers.”

Ana Maria placed two ghostly babies into his abdomen saying she wanted him to be a good mother. Others came one by one barely touching Darlene’s head or a body part. Many could not be heard at all. The last to enter was Marlene who lay down inside.

“I will be with you wherever you go,” she whispered and did not come out. The Indian girl stepped behind Jenny and disappeared.

Jenny inhaled slowly and deeply, this time for a full five minutes without coughing or having to lean on the table. Steadily she increased the tempo until it looked like she was hyperventilating. Then she stopped and held her breath.

She felt a surge of energy rise from the floor through her legs, torso, arms and head. Her mind filled with a whirlwind of trivial thoughts — feeding the cats, loading the washer, weeding the garden — and just as quickly emptied leaving only a bright silver light. Like the other night she seemed to go into a trance. If she had been asked later she would have no memory of what she did after that point.

She moved slowly tonight and each movement required an eternity. She first covered Darlene’s face with both hands lightly brushing his forehead, eyes, nose and lips, and slowly smoothed and pulled at his hair. She gently confined his neck in both hands, then squeezed his shoulders pushing inward. Both hands were placed over his nipples and pectoral area and remained there motionless. She moved to his hips and pushed down hard so that they seemed to expand outward. She pressed gently on his genital area with the flat of her hands without moving.

Finally she placed the palms of both hands together and pushed the point made by her fingers deep into Darlene ’s abdomen and held them. A small yellow-white glow appeared as she increased the pressure. Suddenly a bright light flashed through the floor becoming incandescent as it passed through Jenny into Darlene. After a time Jenny pulled away and a large egg-shaped light rose on Darlene’s abdomen soundlessly pulsing in time with his heart beat.

Darlene seemed to wake a second time as Marlene took his hand and led him from the table to the second door. This time he felt no command to stop and the pair passed through the portal without incident.

Both stairs and banister were roughhewn like the door although worn to a polish as though from years of feet and hands. At the bottom a larger ornate door of like construction led out into a bright mist. Breaks in the haze revealed the two were in a small grassy valley surrounded by low hills. To one side was a stream very much like Nicasio Creek. A few girls he had seen in the room stood or sat seemingly waiting for them to pass. Bear, deer, bobcats, squirrels and rabbits lay in the grass or grazed as the couple glided by as though in a dream. There was no noise except the wind. He and Marlene were nude.

In the center of the glade he could see a throne-like rock formation surrounded by a natural grove of oaks and buckeyes. Seated on a flat stone was a woman, at least he thought the figure was a woman. Her face and form were indistinct, almost fluid. As he watched her skin color shifted — brown, black, white and once brilliant silver like a full moon. Most often it was a mix of colors. Marlene took his hand gently pulling him to the woman where together they sank to their knees. Both knelt there for a time looking down until a crowd of girls silently gathered behind them.

Standing up the woman placed her hands on their heads. A rainbow light flashed and shimmered around the trio and subsided quickly. Taking each by the hand she led both to a small pool. A reflection in the water showed Darlene that he was still a boy.

The water was warm as the children were gently pushed down until they were wet all over. Standing on the bank once again the reflection now showed that he and Marlene were both girls and there was no telling them apart. As they stood holding hands and looking at each other two older girls wrapped them in diaphanous garments and crowned them with wild flower wreaths.

Trailing gossamer-thin fabric they were escorted barefoot to a large pole where Darlene’s hands were placed on a tree-trunk thick mast which felt warm, almost alive. As he touched it a spark leaped from his chest to the shaft. Something had gone for good and for a moment he felt sad. Joining hands with the other girls he and Marlene moved over the grass in a slow line dance. In the background he could hear a flute and small drum beating the rhythm although he didn’t see any musicians.

In the distance a bearded, rough-looking horseman rode slowly in their direction. Coming up to the dancers the man reached down and lifted both girls onto his lap. Delicate costumes trailing the girls held onto the man’s neck with both arms and looked up at a being seemingly carved from wood or stone who was dressed in pungent dark leather. Like the woman’s the man’s face was indistinct. Looking back Darlene saw the woman, girls and animals become smaller as they rode away.

Jenny woke and looking down was surprised to see a light on Darlene’s tummy slowly subsiding. Turning she saw that the room was empty and her clothes were soaked with sweat. She suddenly felt cold and started shivering, The air temperature must have dropped thirty degrees, she thought. How long had they been there?

The curious second door was now closed. A handful of coals glowed in the fireplace providing a meager light. Fumes from the bowls had dissipated and the candles were puddles of congealed wax. She saw a bare overhead light bulb through the partly open first door.

Rubbing her hands together until they were warm from friction she brushed them lightly over Darlene’s face, body, arms and legs from head to toe in short strokes. She was done.

“Darlene get up, please.” She reached over and taking the girl’s hand and helped her off the table. “Stand and look at yourself in the mirror. This is how you will be very soon.”

Darlene looked. She saw a full bodied girl of about sixteen, perhaps five three. She had Darlene’s smiling face, flawless and heart shaped. She was full figured with generous breasts and hips and nipped waist. Unlike contemporary fashion models she would not be considered anorexic.

Hair stretched to her hips, full and lustrous and there was no other save at her pubis and brows. The skin was alabaster smooth and her hands and feet were small and tapered. She manually lifted her breasts and brushed the large brown nipples at which her intake of air was audible. She touched buttocks, navel and finally the place between her legs where she found only a soft, sensitive indentation.

Jenny collected her belongings and carefully stored them in the case. Lifting the small grip she took the girl’s hand and wordlessly led her downstairs to Darlene who lay asleep. Jenny returned to the sewing room.

In the morning Jenny rose early taking only coffee and a piece of toast. She told Linda that she had seen enough of Darlene to believe that Dr Gardner’s treatment would be successful. Linda should prepare herself for an eventually female Darlene. She apologized for having to leave early. Her animals would be hungry and, by the way, she should let Darlene sleep late today. She would call back later. Once again she said nothing about the night’s activities.

A panel truck pulls up. A handsome, clean cut young man gets out, walks beside the girl and begins talking to her. The girl obviously uneasy starts walking faster trying hard not to pay attention. The man follows and just as she starts to hurry he grabs her, covers her mouth and pulls her into the truck the back doors of which now stand open. Books and purse scatter.

Part 22 - Leticia.2

Darlene wakes to see a low cloud cover through his window which is wafting in from the Pacific which lies fifteen miles due west of the house. Oak trees visible through the glass are twisting a bit in the wind. Dry leaves swirl around the house unchecked. Since José stopped coming no one has raked them. The squirrels are not around. At least none can be seen near this window.

The overcast means it’s chilly outside though the sun will burn through by noon. Summer in Northern California is by no means consistently warm and bears absolutely no resemblance to the sunny beach climate around Los Angeles. The weather around Nicasio is usually best in late Fall right up to Thanksgiving in November.

“What a funny dream,” he thinks smiling to himself, him and Marlene meeting this funny-looking lady among those trees. “Oh, yes, Jenny was here too.” Everything seems muddled but he feels good and energized. He stretches knocking over Growl and Susie. “Oops, I’m sorry,” he says, cuddles both dolls in his arms, then sets them upright. Swinging his legs together over the edge of the bed he flips his hair back with both hands. His legs and arms look smooth and white and he feels pleased. He poses his hands in different graceful positions and peers closely at his manicure.

In the vanity mirror his complexion is clear and even, lips full, eyes tilted slightly, sparkly even though just out of bed. He rubs moisturizer over his face, neck, hands and arms and drops his nightie in front of the mirror. “What a skinny body.” He sees the little thingie between his legs and frowns.

He pulls bikinis out of the drawer and a long floral shift from the closet, steps into a pair of sandals and goes downstairs to breakfast. No corset this time. He realizes he’s getting tired of it. At the last minute he grabs a yellow cardigan because it will be cool at least for awhile.

“Hi, mom.” He crosses over to kiss Linda who gapes at his fluid, delicate movements, arms swinging at his sides as he heads to the kitchen. He seems to float as he sits down to a small bowl of breakfast cereal and slices from an orange.

Putting the clean dishes in the drying rack Linda says “The doctor says you have to get out and be with people so I want you to come with me today while I visit customers.”

Darlene nods and no doubts about being “seen” cross his mind. Back upstairs he dresses to go out. Putting on his bra he noticed that his nipples are erect and very sensitive. He changes his mind in favor of the corset and for outer wear selects a pale blue twinset and blue/gray tartan above the knee pleated wool skirt complete with knee socks and t-strap black flats.

He lets his hair hang down, now longer than shoulder length and uses matching blue barrettes to keep it away from his face. For jewelry he picks small pearl earrings and a pearl solitaire on a gold chain. A light lipstick, a swipe with the eyelash brush and he’s ready. He looks around, straightens Marlene’s bed, the furniture and dolls and tosses the dirty clothes in a hamper. “No not Marlene’s, my bed!” he corrects himself. A last look in the mirror, a tug at his skirt and he goes into the sewing room.

“Mom, are you going out like that?” Linda was in her really grungy jeans and sweatshirt. He won’t let her go out until she changes. “I don’t want my mom looking like a yucky stable hand.” Linda gets annoyed and then smiles. It’s nice to have a girl around.

Their first stop is Della Newman’s house. Della is Bert’s mother, Bert of party fame. She looks oddly at Darlene. “Is that you, Marlene?” Linda looks like she is about to cry so Darlene takes Linda’s hand and stands close.

He speaks first, “No, Della, I’m her cousin, Darlene. I’m living with Aunt Linda now. Did you go to the party a few years ago. I was there then.”

Della looks embarrassed and mumbles “I’m so sorry.” Linda continues looking a bit disconnected so Darlene begins to noisily open boxes in an attempt to divert everyone’s attention from Linda’s discomfort. And it works.

Della holds two blouses to her chest at the mirror. “They’re really perfect, Linda. I don’t know how you do it all by yourself.”

Linda smiles and looks down at her adopted son. “Darlene does a lot of it now, so I’m not completely alone.” She gives the boy a big squeeze.

A tall, muscular, clean cut lad comes through curious about the conversation which he couldn’t help hearing from the back room. “Bert, you remember Linda and Darlene.” Della was speaking again.

Bert looks dumbfounded. “Not Marlene?”

“No, it’s Darlene,” the feminized boy says in a softly flirtatious voice. “I live with Linda now. Remember, you danced with me at Marlene’s party.” Darlene is now all smiles as he sits there knees together, feet tucked under the chair. “You kissed me,” he giggles in a pitch higher than usual and Bert turns several shades of red. Linda looks at Darlene somewhat surprised at his different tone of his voice.

“Bert’s on the sophomore football team in high school,” Della says.

“I bet you’re good,” Darlene teases. Bert continues to redden and then excuses himself.

“You certainly handled that well, young lady,” Linda says as they drive off.

The next house is Laura’s. Linda has kept Laura up on their visit to the doctor and Darlene’s contacts with Jenny. “Why don’t you take things in by yourself, honey. I’ll wait out here.”

“Darlene you look very sweet today,” Laura says as she takes the box he’s carrying. Laura’s daughter Ellen walks by at the same time and looking surprised says “Marlene?”

Laura corrects her “No, honey, I want you to meet Marlene’s cousin, Darlene. You saw her at the party a few years ago.”

Darlene holds out his hand and says “Nice to see you again, Ellen.”

Ellen ignores the gesture. “Oh, yeah, I remember.“ She flops on the couch flicking the television remote to a girls’ basketball game. Ellen is overweight, wears an oversize sweatshirt, dirty bright pink leggings and beach thongs all of which emphasize her “slob” demeanor. Her hair is tied back with a rubber band. If she hadn’t been wearing pink she might have been mistaken for a boy.

Ellen’s unshaven, potbellied father walks in wearing a dirty sweatshirt with torn off sleeves. In both hands he carries a quart-size beer bottle and bowl of chips. “What’s on TV?” he asks.

Laura rolls her eyes and thanks Darlene. As Linda and Darlene drive off Laura thinks. “Why is the sweetest girl in the valley a boy?” and ponders the ironies of life.

The last visit on their itinerary is Leticia’s’ house, a half mile north of the square in the middle of a large pasture. Linda and Darlene turn off the main road where the sign reads “Fernandez Dairy Properties, Caution: Cattle Crossing.” A half dozen outbuildings are visible, two of them very large barns. From a distance they can hear the animals lowing. Farther up the hillside part of a herd is still grazing.

Manuel “Manny” Fernandez, Leticia’s father, is an immigrant from Chihuahua where his family owns several large cattle spreads. He got a green card, wired his family’s money over the border and bought the dairy in Nicasio Valley. Addie comes from Modesto, the child of farm workers and is a distant relative of Manny’s. Her real name is Adela.

The Fernandez’ have three sons, Manuel Jr., Leo and Mark. Junior and Leo are in their twenties and work on the dairy. Mark is just finishing high school. Leticia, the youngest, makes their fourth child. Her brothers keep teasing her with the name “Tish” whenever they can, but the girl steadfastly refuses to anglicize her name and insists on using the Spanish Leticia. Manny Sr. and Leo sit at the kitchen table with coffee cups as Linda and Darlene walk in. Addie is taking a pan of her enchiladas out of the oven. They smell heavenly.

Manny is gray haired and tall with a slight pot belly. He wears a thin Latin mustache and Stetson. His clothes are barn dirty and his hands callused with broken fingernails. Leo is a younger version of his father in fit condition making an obvious effort to be non-Latino. When Darlene sees Leo something jumps inside, something scary. Leo nods in their direction, shifts his eyes in an embarrassed way and excuses himself to work outside.

“ ¡Marlena, qué muá±equita bonita!” Manny says as he sees Darlene. “Creá­a que tu te fueras. Ven acá¡ mi lindita.” Darlene realizes he can understand Manny and automatically thinks of a reply but nothing comes out.

Addie rolls her eyes and translates “Marlene, you beautiful little doll. I thought you went away. Come here, my pretty one.” Then she says something in Spanish to Manny. She and Leticia have not mentioned Darlene’s birth gender to the men.

He smiles again. “So you Marlena's leetle prima,” he says. “You look laik her muy mucho! Venga, sat on my lap, por favor. Now I have two preety girls otra vez.”

Darlene looks uncertain but having perched on Bill’s lap he is getting accustomed to randy older men. As his skirt slides up over his knees he struggles to keep it down.

At that moment Leticia bursts in and drags him away. “Papa does that with me all the time so I had to rescue you. Come on up.” Leticia’s room is a mixture of rock posters, school pennants and pictures of Latin stars like Carlos Santana, Fabian, Gloria Trevi and others Darlene has never seen before. Odds and ends of Mexican souvenir pots and table cloths hang on the wall and serve as catchalls for girlie things. Then the usual array of teddy bears, baby dolls and Barbie's.

“You’ve never been here, have you.” He shakes his head. “Marlene always came here. We traded clothes and dolls and talked about boys.” Darlene blushes.

“I’m a lot bigger now and there’s things I can’t get into. Maybe you could use some of my old stuff.” She starts rummaging in her closet. “Here’s an old miniskirt and one of my tank tops. Take your clothes off!” she commands and proceeded to undress the boy.

“Just like Marlene,” he thinks but chooses to go along with the imposition.

Getting down to the underwear Leticia exclaims “A corset! I’ve never seen one. I wanna try it.” After a struggle Darlene wraps it around her middle and pulls the stays as hard as he can just to get even. It’s his turn to smile devilishly.

“Oof, ow. That hurts! How can you wear it?” Leticia says.

“It gives me a better figure and posture, don’t you think?”She looks at Darlene ’s waist without the corset.

“Yes, but you need titties. (a pause) Are those your nipples?” She squints and points to Darlene’s training bra and peers closely. The cups aren’t flat. They have obvious little points. “Yes, they are.” She claps her hands with a perverted glee.

Leticia then takes off her blouse and bra and displays her own budding bosom. Darlene blushes and looks away.

“Yours are just like mine were a couple of months ago. You’re starting to develop. Ho, what fun! You’re going to be a real girl. And I’m going to help.” She reaches in a drawer. “Mom gave me this. It’s called a Wonder Bra. It puts tits on a board. And papa likes it when I wear it.”

She yanks off Darlene’s bra and tightens the other in place. Pulling up on his pectorals she says “Hey, a pair of A- cups. Oh man, I wanna see you in a month. I wonder if you’re going to have really big ones. Guys are going to chase you all over school, unless you go to a girls’ school. Now, wouldn’t that be something.” She stifles a laugh.

Darlene sighs and looks his new pal in the face. “Leticia, if you and I are going to be friends, you’ve got to lighten up. I’m having a hard enough time with this girl stuff and I’m really, really tired of your teasing. If you can help me, that’s fine. If you just want somebody to shove around, then I’m leaving.” His voice has risen almost an octave and he starts to gather his clothes in preparation for going back downstairs.

Leticia’s face actually falls in apology. “Darlene, I’m sorry. It’s just so much fun knowing a boy who likes girls’ things that I get carried away. I’m always freaking out when my brothers treat me and mom like slaves that I keep wanting to take it out on someone. I’ll try to do better so we can be friends.” She looks genuinely repentant.

Darlene stares in the mirror at the Wonder Bra that actually gives him some cleavage. Otherwise he’s wearing only panties. Leticia watches with grinning interest, then turns away in an attempt to be less annoying.

Changing the subject she sits him down and says “I know what we can do.” With that she locks the door, pulls out a video tape, sticks it in the slot and turns on the TV. “I found this hidden in one of the sheds under some empty feed sacks. I think it’s Leo’s. He doesn’t know I have it. I’ve watched a little but there’s a whole lot more.”

A warning notice comes on: “XXX- rated. Not suitable for persons under 21 years of age.”

The first clip shows a nude man and woman having standard sex, making lots of breathy noises, each pretending to reach climax several times with unbelievably wooden expressions and jerky movements. The acting is bad and the man has difficulty maintaining an erection. Any adult not morally offended by the subject matter would split a gut. Darlene sits there open mouthed while Leticia giggles.

The scene changes to a teenage girl in school uniform walking along an unknown street, books and purse cradled in her arms.

“I haven’t seen this one.”

A panel truck pulls up. A handsome, clean cut young man gets out, walks beside the girl and begins talking to her. The girl obviously uneasy starts walking faster trying hard not to pay attention. The man follows and just as she starts to hurry he grabs her, covers her mouth and pulls her into the truck the back doors of which now stand open. Books and purse scatter.

The scene shifts to the inside of the van. Her mouth, wrists and feet are taped as she struggles and attempts to scream. She is not acting.

Next the camera shows a cabin in the woods. The girl is carried out of the truck like a sack of potatoes and dumped on a bed. Her clothes are cut away one by one with a large hunting knife leaving her nude. The camera focusses in obscenely as each garment is shredded. There is a close up of her frightened expression while the tape on her mouth is pulled away without concern for how it might feel. She cries out and the shriek is nervewrackingly audible on the soundtrack.

One of the men talks to her up close in sickeningly mocking tones, “Hey, little bitch, scream as much as you want. Nobody hears you out here.” which she proceeds to do. The men laugh. another holds the knife up to her face and makes slicing movements. She cries and wets the bed. The first one says “Oh, shit,” and smacks the girl on the side of the head. The second one reminds him “Remember what Smith said, no marks!” She is carried into another room and dumped on a dry bed.

By this time there are three men and one looks familiar to Leticia. Each of them has sex with the girl as she sobs. From the mess left it’s obvious she was a virgin. The men tire and move into the kitchen. On the table are several bottles, munchies and small plastic bags filled with white pills. The camera focusses back on the weeping girl. Her mouth is bleeding. Hands and feet are bound again.

The scene changes. This time it’s early evening and the men step back into the lens. They’ve had a few drinks and probably something else. There’s more but Leticia stops the tape.

Both children are stunned. “The poor girl,” Leticia says. Then adds “I’m scared.”

Something in Darlene is twisting big, more than when he saw Leo downstairs, and it’s painful.

Leticia rewinds the tape, stuffs it into the box and hides it under her mattress. “I’m going to put it back. Don’t tell anybody.” Darlene nods. He’s just as frightened.

“Darlene, honey. We have to go!” He feels relieved hearing Linda’s voice.

“Just a minute, mom. We’ve been trading clothes.” His voice quavers as he fumbles back into his corset and dress, checks his hair and makeup at Leticia’s vanity and pulls his hem down. Both walk downstairs as calmly as they can. Inside Darlene is shaking.

They say their goodbyes to Manny, Addie and Leticia. Leticia bites her fingernails as Linda drives away.

At the Fernandez farm Leticia leads Sergeant Miller and Deputy Tillman to the shed. And in a few minutes the forensics van will be along. And eventually the feds. It won’t be easy for the Fernandez family Miller thinks. A box of tapes is still there under the pile of feed sacks along with a sealed plastic bag.

TWINS by Marie, Part 23 - Leo
by Marie C.

Two weeks after his visit to Leticia’s Darlene has trouble getting dressed. His underpants are too tight around the hips and the training bra does not cover. Looking in the mirror he sees that his hips are noticeably more round and two mounds protrude from his chest. He runs his hands over the growths and sucks in his breath. They are sensitive. His waist seems awfully narrow, probably from the corset, or at least he thinks so.

“Mom, I can’t get my clothes on,” he calls. Linda comes running. The changes are obvious.

“Well, come in to the sewing room. We’ll try some of the things there.” A few weeks ago she stocked some young girls’ wear in different sizes for a day like this. “I guess your old lingerie won’t fit any more.” She pulls out boxes filled with fancy lace underpants and brassieres. “Try these.” She looks down. Is his penis smaller? The briefs one size larger seem to fit. The bra is an A+.

“My, my, that’s fast,” she thinks. “It took me months to get that far.”

Darlene goes back to his room and stands in front of the mirror. His skin is if possible more smooth than before. His neck is swanlike. Legs and arms taper down to small hands and feet. Today he tries a floral shift and the protrusions are there for the world to see. He feels embarrassed and searches for something baggy to wear but can’t find anything. He smiles, frowns and smiles again.

A week later Darlene and Linda go for his monthly exam at Dr.Gardner’s office. Darlene has picked a sleeveless yellow full skirted cotton summer dress, gloves, white hat and low heels. He’s abandoned the corset today, maybe even permanently. He talks with the social worker more about his strange dreams, how he helps mom and is getting out to see people. He doesn’t mention the frightening videotape. After the physical Dr. Gardner changes the prescription and pronounces the patient to be doing fine. Her notes read:

"Subject continues in good health but is developing female characteristics more rapidly than anticipated. There is some atrophy of the male sex organ which is to be expected but not so early. Testes have retreated into the body cavity. Subject mentions dreams like those before but which do not come as often. There seems to be no undue social discomfort. Parent describes subject as being successful in relating to people as he accompanies her on business and presents himself as a female to the customers. Some thought will have to be given to school as subject is already beyond teaching credential level of parent and in fact is past the registration date. Due to the unexpectedly rapid physical development the prescription has been reduced by half to observe treatment at a slower pace."

Two weeks after meeting with the doctor Darlene needs a B-cup bra and another size in underpants. Marlene’s old dresses no longer fit or look too juvenile. “Mom, what are we going to do? I can’t wear these.” He clenches his fists, stomps his foot and looks imploringly at Linda.

“Well, we’ll have to go shopping won’t we? Besides your birthday is coming up. Oops, it’s Marlene’s birthday.” Linda’s eyes tear up.

Darlene puts his arms around Linda. “You know I don’t mind being called Marlene. Let’s pretend I’m Marlene for her birthday. O.K.? Let’s start now.”

“I don’t know, honey,” Linda says hesitantly. “Well, you use whatever name you feel like.”

They haven't seen Jenny since the big night upstairs, now more than a month ago. She welcomes them warmly as Linda and Darlene come through the rickety screen door. Persephone jumps down and rubs against Darlene’s ankles purring loudly. Diablo turns his back on the guests licking one paw.

“My, my, look how our girl is doing. Don’t we look sweet?” Darlene is really chic today in a sleeveless jewel neck blouse, knee length dark skirt, hose and low heels all borrowed from Linda’s better wardrobe. Jenny apologizes for not being in touch, but there really isn’t much to say that Linda can’t see for herself.

“Everything is going o.k.?” Linda says it was.

“Honey, I have to run over to the store in Forest Knolls.” Linda tells Darlene. “Why don’t you stay and visit?” Linda sets a box of repaired garments on the table.

Jenny makes tea and brings out her blackberry pie. “Darlene, you look so yummy, I want to take a big bite out of you. How do you feel?”

He blushes a bit. “Really, really good, Jenny, but I’m not used to all these changes. My front, my clothes don’t fit, my voice gets higher and higher.”

Jenny looks hard at Darlene. “Do you like it? That’s the question.”

Darlene waits a long time to answer. “Yes, I do, but sometimes I wonder.”

“All girls go through that, so don’t think you’re any different. Come on, I need some help around the house. Here’s an apron and gloves.” Darlene puts on a house coat, goes right to work and straightens Jenny’s upstairs - her closets and drawers, remakes the bed and wipes down the bathroom. It isn’t so bad this time because things are still pretty clean from last time.

“I always feel good when I come here, Jenny. Can I tell you a secret?” They’re sitting on Della’s old bed upstairs. Darlene’s ankles and calves in heels and hose look very adult, Jenny observes. She ruminates to herself about the night of that ceremony. Something must have happened then although it was hazy and difficulat to recall for some reason. All those girls. I wonder who or what they were? Obviously Darlene doesn’t know who they are. I wonder if anyone ever will?

She awakes from her musing and is surprised at her momentary absence of mind responds to Darlene’s question. As she looks up Darlene is staring at her concerned since Jenny appears to be kind of spaced out. “Anything you like, dear. You know I don’t mind what you say.”

So Darlene goes over his visit to Leticia’s, describes the videotape and how scared it made them both feel.

Jenny frowns. “Have you told anybody else?” He hasn’t. “And you haven’t heard from Leticia? No? Well, I want to hear more about this, so you come back tomorrow. I’ll think of something to get Leticia over here so I can see you both together. Don’t tell your mother! I’ll talk to her later.” When Linda returns Jenny explains that she needs Darlene the next day to help with a few more things. Leticia is coming over, too.

The following afternoon Jenny has both children in the living room. When Leticia comes in she squeals at the boy, “Your titties have grown really, really fast! Let me see.” Shamelessly she pokes at Darlene’s chest. “You’ve got more than I have,” she says plainly awed. “I wonder if they’re going to get bigger.”

“Leticia, you promised.” Darlene’s eyes narrow to slits.

Jenny intervenes. “That’s enough, you two. Now tell me what happened at Leticia’s.”

They go over what they saw on the tape again. Leticia hasn’t had a chance to put the tape back. In fact it’s in her school pack which she brought along today. Now she thinks it wasn’t a very good place to keep it. Going on she says there was a plastic bag next to the box she took the tape from but never really looked inside. Leo saw her hanging around the other day and chased her off so the tape never got back to its original hiding place.

Jenny looks serious. “This kind of thing may be happening to other girls and we have to put a stop to it, don’t you think?” The girl and boy nod.

“Leticia, didn't you know one of the men in the film?”Darlene says.

“It was Jeff Decker who works on the next ranch over. He comes around a lot to see Leo.” Darlene feels sick when Leticia mentions the name.

Jenny goes on in a serious tone. “A girl was getting hurt and that’s against the law. Are you willing to tell the police? Though if you do it might get Leo in trouble. Your mom and dad will probably be upset because you didn’t tell them.”

Leticia smiles and Darlene can tell she’s thinking of revenge. “My parents would just say to keep quiet and have him get rid of the stuff.” Then her face brightens. “The cops need that tape for evidence. I know all about it from watching Law and Order.”

Jenny goes over and stands next to the phone. “I’m going to call the sheriff. Will you talk to them if they come?” Both children nod.

In ten minutes a sheriff’s car is parked on the shoulder next to Jenny’s house. Deputy Lena Tillman takes notes as Leticia and Darlene describe the tape. Then Leticia says where she found it and brings it out.

Tillman puts it in a plastic bag which she marks with a number. Then she returns to the car and radios in, after which she receives orders to wait out front for Sergeant Miller. She tells both kids to stay put and don’t talk to anybody else. “You stay with Mrs. Gaithers. I’ll be just outside.”

In another twenty minutes Zack Miller’s car pulls up. He sits down with the children and listens to them a second time. “Jenny do you have a tape player?” She nods and points to a contraption that would be better off in a museum. Zack and Tillman watch the tape to make sure there’s enough to go on. Legally he can’t question the kids further without their parents present. However he is worried that someone in Leo’s family could tip him off and that whatever else there is might disappear. He’s known Addie and Manny for years.

To say he was surprised at seeing Darlene was an understatement. And while Darlene had to explain that he was Marlene’s cousin and that they had met before, Miller was confused as hell because he thought the cousin was supposed to be a boy. However, he and Tillman had to work out a plan before anything got taken away.

Looking at the tape it was obvious to both deputies that a crime had been committed. The next step was to enlist Addie and Linda, but mostly Addie to secure the rest of the items. If he can’t get Addie to help voluntarily he’ll have to order a search warrant and bring in the feds. The FBI will come in on it anyhow but if Miller can do it the easy way all the better. He gets Jenny to call Addie and Linda and have them come over right away.

Both women are understandably upset thinking something has happened to the kids, especially when they see two sheriff’s cars in front of the house. They arrive almost simultaneously and bustle in apprehensive, wondering what’s happened. Miller puts them at their ease and then launches into the description of the tape the girls saw. But the best way he explains is to show the women part of it, so he replays the kidnap scene. Leticia pipes up saying there are more tapes. Addie is horrified and doesn’t want to believe Leo has anything to do with this tape. She starts to get mad at Leticia and both start crying.

“Can we have your permission to search for the other tapes, Addie? A serious crime was committed. But from what I can tell Leo probably didn’t do anything but he may know something that could help us. If you don’t let us look, then I have to get a warrant and the FBI in here right away. The FBI has to be notified anyhow.” Miller knows he is risking a loss of evidence by doing it this way but he wants to spare the Fernandez family as much pain as possible.

Addie is in tears torn between wanting to protect Leo and her family, anger at Leticia and needing to do something for the girl on the tape, but ultimately knows the best way is to help as much as possible.

At the Fernandez farm Leticia leads Sergeant Miller and Deputy Tillman to the shed. And in a few minutes the forensics van will be along. And eventually the feds. It won’t be easy for the Fernandez family Miller thinks. A box of tapes is still there under the pile of feed sacks along with a sealed plastic bag.

From a distance Leo sees the cars and deputies and crime scene tape all over the shed and turns pale. However he has nowhere to run to and dejectedly walks up to Miller who he has seen around the valley.

Miller tells Leo he’s looked at the tape. There’s been a crime committed and Leo has to tell them as much as he knows. Leo says he never looked at any of the stuff, that he was just holding it for Decker.

“You don’t have anything like drugs around do you,” he asks Leo. “You wouldn’t try to get rid of them, would you? Go up to your room, get your coat. You’ll have to come down to the substation to give a statement.” Miller figures that will give Leo a chance to flush any pot or pills down the toilet before the feds come. They will go over everything in the house with a fine tooth comb.

“Why didn’t you tell us about it?” Addie says accusingly to her only daughter. Manny is standing there livid. If looks could kill his daughter would be hamburger.

Leticia was crying too, but stood up and shouted “Because you would have gotten rid of it and nobody would have helped that girl. You always take Leo’s side. It serves him right.” She glared at her parents and bawled into a handkerchief at the same time.

Addie said something in Spanish to her husband. Then to Leticia in a quieter tone. “You’re right, honey, that’s what we would have done.”

Miller tells her “Chances are Leo didn’t know much. He said something about Decker asking him to hide the items. If Leo didn’t have anything to do with it he’ll be home tonight. If he did know something and kept it from us he may be charged. Hopefully not, but we have to check every detail.” Addie takes Leticia in her arms and they go inside.

Miller stopped at Jenny’s on the way back where Linda, Darlene and Jenny were still waiting. He explained what happened and hoped that Linda hadn’t gotten too worried. They had to get over there fast or the tapes might have been moved. Darlene might be asked to give evidence although that wasn’t certain. He felt rather awkward talking to Linda given the strained state of their relationship. He really wanted to sit and talk more, put his arm around her, and somehow make things the way they used to be but the timing was just too awkward.

Three days later he called her back. How was she? He apologized for not spending more time at Jenny’s the other day. But this was another business call. Could she come over to the forensics lab at county center? They needed to show her some clothes they found in the search.

As Linda listened a huge weight fell on her shoulders and she visibly drooped.

“Mom, what’s happening?” Darlene asked, suddenly alarmed at Linda’s facial expression and posture.

She answered in a tiny voice. “I have to go to the sheriff’s office.” She looked around the room like she was lost.

Darlene sensed this had something to do with the tape. “I’ll call Jenny and we’ll all go together.” Linda turned to stare blankly out the window.

In the other room Darlene became Miss All Business again and it felt good. “Jenny, can you come over,” he said quietly over the phone. “Mom has to go over to the Sheriff’s in San Rafael. I think it has something to do with Marlene. Could you drive us? I don’t think she can.”

At first they didn’t want to let Darlene and Jenny in but Linda insisted so they sat near the door away from the equipment. The room was as much as Darlene imagined from TV. Walls and floor were glossy white tile with white metal and glass cabinets. There were beakers, bottles and unidentified things on desks and tables. Everything smelled like a hospital.

Against one wall there was a shiny metal table covered with shredded clothing. Uniformed deputies and tall men in dark expensive suits lounged around on different sides of the room in casual attitudes. Zack stood with the uniforms and watched as Linda came in.

One of the suits was a tall, good-looking black man who introduced himself as Special Agent Walker and led Linda by one arm to the shiny table. “Mrs. Sullivan, can you please look these over and tell me if you recognize anything?”

Linda lifted and dropped pieces of tattered cloth. After five minutes she choked and held her fist to her mouth. “Marlene’s T-shirt. These are her jeans. See the patch I sewed.” Zack caught her as she staggered.

There were other scraps that Linda didn’t recognize, some hardly more than threads. Darlene couldn’t tell what they were, although some of the grownups were supposed to know. Leo and Jeff Decker would have lots of questions to answer.

Zack had to support Linda to Jenny’s car and Darlene asked if Jenny could stay over again. Fortunately nothing went on upstairs and everyone got a night’s rest except maybe Linda. Darlene stayed in bed with her the whole night.

Decker counted the cash in his pocket and guessed what he had left on his credit cards. Enough to get to Baja and lie low for a couple of weeks. He would eat crap the Mexs call food, drink some tequila and sleep on the beach. He could get plenty of cheap weed on the street down there. Tourists buy it at a humongous markup.

TWINS by Marie, Part 24 - Decker
by Marie C.

I got up as early as I could without bothering mom. Not one bra fit and I could barely pull on my panties. I’m getting tired of this, I thought, though another part of me was excited at the changes. My hair was now all the way down my back and moved like water. I sneaked into the sewing room where Jenny was still asleep and rummaged through mom’s retail stock until I found a B+cup bra and another size of panties.

In the mirror my front side looked impressive and my expanded equipment was moving around like they had minds of their own, nothing like my old padded bras — and there wasn’t any way I could hide them! I even tried a huge bag of a float dress that mom was working on but that didn’t do anything. “I wonder what Dr. Gardner’ll say?” A tiny voice answered “Why should she care?”

As I padded down the hall in my new intimates Sandy came out of the bathroom in a towel and completely surprised whispered “Why are you wandering around in your skivvies?” She stared at my current dimensions and shook her head in disbelief.

“I don’t have anything that fits,” I whined quietly trying not to wake anyone.

She crooked her finger at me and mouthed “Follow.” In her bedroom she pulled out a black short sleeve pullover sweater and straight gray miniskirt. Boy, did the sweater make me stick out. The skirt emphasized my hips and I certainly didn’t need the corset. I went back to my room for pantyhose and a pair of low heeled pumps. Why hose you may ask but I can’t give you an answer, at least none that would make sense. Maybe I just felt like looking more grown up.

Coming out of her officefully dressed Sandy stopped me again and put both hands on my shoulders giving me a detailed once over. “You really look like eighteen, kid, not thirteen. With the right clothes and makeup you could pass for twenty-one.” She seemed to be considering something.

I didn’t know how to answer, but suddenly I had to pee. After I struggled to get my pantyhose down without ruining them and sat down I saw my wee wee wasn’t hardly anything. I suppose I should have been upset but I had to get downstairs. I would worry later.

This morning I was super-efficient and got breakfast together for all of us including Jenny. I even managed to get Sandy to eat her first solid breakfast in weeks. In a bright floral apron and padded gloves I laid out the settings and placed large platters of eggs, bacon and biscuits on the table. Mom wouldn’t move out of her living room overstuffed chair and so I brought in her breakfast on a tray. She looked all wrung out and complained she wasn’t very hungry.“Marlene, would you get my cigarettes, too.” was all she would say.

“Yes, mom,” I replied without comment. Jenny looked at me on her way out when mom used my cousin’s name but said nothing.

“Thank you, honey. You’re growing up so fast. We’ve got to get clothes for your birthday — and a party. Who do you want to invite this year?” Mom was coming unglued again after our session at the Sheriff’s office. Her head tilted back and she seemed to go to sleep.

At this point Jenny told me quietly she had to get back to her animals and would call soon. I accompanied her to the door and said “Thanks for all your help Jenny. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.” I pecked her on the cheek. “Oh, you’d make out all right,” and gave me a return peck on the forehead. When I got back in the living room mom was sitting there looking crumpled, frail and aged. Sandy clattered down the stairs and waved as she ran out the door.

With great effort Linda finally seemed to wake up. “Marlene, could you straighten out the orders in the sewing room and get them ready for delivery?”

“Sure, mom.” I kissed her and went upstairs. In my room I looked in the mirror again and there was no boy visible. I put my hands on my breasts and remembered Ana’s breast feedings. Then I moved my hands to my hips and cocked one like Leticia did. The miniskirt brought out my legs in a way I wasn’t used to. I felt embarrassed and a little scared. What will everybody think? I remembered how Emma felt looking at herself in the mirror and touching herself all over. I was almost her size and shape now.

I finished up quickly in mom’s room moving around quickly and competently in Sandy’s heels which were taller than mine, three inches. I felt confident as I packed up the delivery items. I knew I looked good and I wanted to be seen.

But I didn’t have any way to deliver mom’s packages. “I need a driver’s license.” I thought, “but I’m still too young. Bill has too many DUIs. Sandy’s gone to work and I can’t ask Jenny to do any more. Addie and Leticia are falling apart. I wonder if Bert’s mother would do it?”

I phoned Mrs. Newman and explained that mom wasn’t well. Could she help by driving me around? She answered that Bert had a permit to drive during the day. Could he do something? He was home now.

I swallowed hard. Was I ready for this? I wondered.

“O.K. Mrs. Newman if Bert wants to. But I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. He’ll be there in five minutes.”

I told mom I was going to deliver her orders and Bert would drive me. “Oh that’s nice, honey. You always liked Bert. Have fun. I’ll be up after awhile.”

I heard the car honk and moved to the front of the house. At the window I waved pointing to some boxes and Bert came dashing up. On the porch he froze openmouthed and said “Lady, you look awesome.”

I caught myself staring back. He was so tall and just starting a beard. Something in my tummy wiggled. “Thank you, Bert.” I smiled at him and he carried the boxes down in one load nearly tripping on the front stairs while snatching a quick glimpse of my legs. That was the first time I was ever called “lady.”

While we made the rounds of mom’s customers he kept turning his head in my direction the whole time while he was driving and almost ran into a ditch twice. I didn’t know what to do except sit there, smile and keep pulling at the hem of my skirt. What would Emma think of how I was dressed?

After we finished he pulled up in front of the little store next to the Rancho and asked “Would you like a coke, Darlene? We can sit here and drink it.” I smiled, he turned red, bolted out of the car and into the store’s entrance.

When he came back he said still red-faced “Darlene, you’re the best looking girl around here,” and took my hand which I didn’t take away.

“Thank you, Bert. You’re one of the nicest boys.” My voice was very warm and inviting I realized. His face stayed flushed the whole time and he kept his hand on mine, eyes glued to my chest, switching now and then to my knees which I now didn't want to keep covered. What was I doing?

Finally I broke into our mutual staring session saying “We have to go because mom isn’t well. Yesterday she had to talk to the police about all those things they found at Leo’s and she’s come unglued because of it.” When we got back he walked me up the stairs holding my hand all the way.

“Thanks again, Bert,” I said rather shyly, not really knowing what else to say.

“No problemo, lady. Call anytime. Always glad to help a damsel in distress.” And off he went without being obnoxious.

Mom surprised me because she was standing just inside the door as I came up the stairs. “I saw that,” she smiled. “You’ll hear from him again, I’m sure. Thanks for taking care of those things, honey.”

“Mr. Smith, I need five large so I can get to Mexico.” Decker was pleading with his contact. He didn’t know the guy’s real name. Had never met him. Decker had always done the snatches and when accomplished would find an envelope full of hundreds waiting for him in a public locker. He had just got a call from Leo to warn him about the cops coming to the ranch. Apparently the shreiff let him go for a minute so he could get rid of the dope. That gave Leo the space to warn Decker.

“Decker, you’re a total fuckup,” Smith rasped. Decker could hardly hear him and right now was too scared to ask the man to speak up.

“You grab and snuff the daughter of a cop’s old lady. They find the tape with you and two other assholes screwing the girl. The house in Nogales gets busted by the Mexs, the FBI is all over the place. Half our guys have to leave the country and the other half get hauled in. Have a nice life what you got left of it.” He clicked off.

When Smith’s words sank in Decker yanked the phone out of its socket and threw it across the room. Then he busted up a table and kicked a hole in the wall. How was he supposed to know the kid was allergic to chloroform? He was just gonna have a little fun and let her go. Besides those South American drug dudes dig school girl flicks. It woulda brought big bucks.

Decker counted the cash in his pocket and guessed what he had left on his credit cards. Enough to get to Baja and lie low for a couple of weeks. He would eat crap the Mexs call food, drink some tequila and sleep on the beach. He could get plenty of cheap weed on the street down there. Tourists buy it at a humongous markup.

When Smith was done he punched the sheriff’s number and left a description of Decker’s vehicle, license number and which way Decker was headed. Then he taped the phone to a rock and threw it in San Francisco Bay.

Decker got as far south as Oxnard on Highway 101 where he was forced off the road by three CHP cruisers, lights twinkling and blazing like a Fourth of July picnic.

A week later mom and I reported back to Dr Gardner. I was nearly a C cup.

“Subject is developing female sex characteristics at an abnormally fast rate. Breast and hip development have reached the standard for an eighteen year old girl. While full physical development in thirteen year old females is not common it has to be unheard of among thirteen year old males in estrogen therapy.

“Subject’s testes and scrotal sac have disappeared completely. The penis is no more than a button flush with the pubic area and not visible without deliberate examination. There is no vaginal opening (nor should we expect there to be) however skin between the subject’s legs has developed a crease resembling an immature vulva. This latter is most unusual and will be watched carefully.

“Subject’s voice is soft and very attractive from any standpoint. His body is completely free of hair except for head and pubis. Skin is smooth and free of blemish. There appears to be no unusual discomfort in the subject about rapid body changes or his role as a nearly developed young woman.

“Subject and mother deny doubling up on prescription. Blood tests show no excessive hormone levels. Possibly hormone therapy has triggered a latent female development process previously undetected. For purposes of control medication has been withheld pending the next examination. Full body X-rays shall be included at that time to determine condition of internal organs and bone development. Consultation with endocrinology may be warranted.

When Darlene and Linda returned home Zack Miller was waiting out front in an official car. He stared at Darlene for the longest time then said “My God you look like Linda.” After the initial surprise he said “Linda we need to talk. Can I come in?” Darlene had a premonition about what Zack wanted, so sat next to Linda and took her hand.

“Leo Fernandez told us about the clothes and tape and where they came from though he said he hadn’t looked at them and we believe him. It seems that a friend of his named Decker was central to a child abduction and pornography ring. He always wondered if Decker was connected to Marlene’s disappearance so he’s being charged with obstruction of justice. He’ll get off lightly if he cooperates, unless he was involved in something else. The girl in the film was rescued from a house on the Mexican border. Authorities in Sonora broke the ring from their side and the girl and a few others are home again thanks to Leticia and Darlene.”

“The worst part is hard to talk about.” He paused and pinched his eyes. “We got a call from Sonoma County. An apple orchard owner near Occidental found a shallow grave in one of his distant groves. A girl in the grave wasn’t as lucky as the girl on the videotape and I won’t go into any details. But we need to make an identification to make sure it isn’t Marlene. That requires a DNA sample. Either of you will do.” He had to swallow hard after his last words.

Darlene volunteered and Miller took out a Q-tip, wiped the inside of his mouth and stuck the swab in a baggie.

“Well, I’ve got to go. I’ll call when the results come back.” He walked over and put his arm around Linda for a minute and gaped momentarily at Darlene who seemed ready to burst his sweater. Then he left.

Darlene sat with Linda for a long while. “Do you need anything mom?” She shook her head. When It got dark he took her by the hand. “Come on mom, let’s go upstairs and lie down. I’ll get one of your pills.”

Out of the blue Linda asked “Marlene, would you put on that dress you wore to your party, you know the one where you got Kirk to dress up?”

“I’ll try mom, but it may be too small.” He went to the sewing room and found a bra that didn’t push out too far and pulled the dress off the rack. It fit just barely, still very tight around his bosom and hips if he zipped the back only part way. He did his makeup the way Marlene liked it and pinned in a flower.

“Here I am, mom.” She sat up and looked me over teary-eyed.

“You always looked so sweet in that dress. So did your cousin. I wonder where he is. We haven’t seen him for awhile have we? “

“No, mom, we haven’t. I think he’s o.k. though.” It was weird to be humoring mom.

Linda’s gaze wandered, then she seemed to remember something. “We have to get you ready for high school soon. I don’t know if you should go to public school, though. I was thinking about Edith Benson’s School for Girls in Ross. All the women I know who went there were well trained socially. It’s expensive though. What do you think, honey?”

I knew Emma would like it. I didn’t know about Marlene, but probably. I had the feeling it would be up to me. For some reason it felt like there weren’t going to be anymore midnight sessions.

“I don’t know, mom. I’m pretty far behind in my school work.” I sat there knees together and hands folded in my lap. My fluffy low cut party dress was completely out of place for our mood but it seemed to her perk up.

Finally I broke the silence. “I really like this dress, mom, but I’m too big now. In fact even my new clothes are too small.” As I reached for mom’s hand I could hear seams popping and Linda seemed to wake up again.

“Well, we’ll take care of that soon. You know you’d have to wear a uniform at Miss Benson’s so we’d have to get more clothes anyhow. As for school work I could tutor you in most of the subjects. You already know home economics and business math. Your manners and grace are far ahead of any girl your age. I don’t think you’d have any trouble.”

I arranged mom in bed after helping her undress and tucked her in. Then I changed back into Sandy’s sweater and skirt.

It was still early evening so I called Leticia for some telephone company. Addie answered, “It’s for you Leticia.” Addie sounded annoyed and there seemed to be shouting in the background.

Leticia was crying when she picked up. “Everybody’s mad at me because of Leo. But I’m still glad I did it. I can’t stand it here.” She blew her nose.

“Why don’t you come over? You can stay here tonight,” I said. “I’ll call Bert and we’ll come get you” Why did I say that? I didn’t know if Bert would come or not. On the other hand maybe I did.

Mrs. Newman answered the phone. “Yes, he’s right here. Bert,” she called.

I explained about Leticia. “Could he come?” I would tell him more as we drove.

“Always happy to rescue a lady, “ he said cheerfully.

Bert practically ran out of the house. He had been thinking about Darlene for a week trying to screw up the courage to call. He knew she was young but she didn’t look very young in that sweater and skirt, or even act young. He even had an wet dream about her. “And she seems to like me. Well, I’ll get the chance to find out.”

I heard his low slung car bang on the treacherous driveway and dashed down to meet him in the yard. As I got in the car he leaned over and kissed me. I was so completely off guard that I didn’t resist and he did it again. I responded by putting my arms around his neck and he pulled me toward him so hard that I cried out and felt his hand slide under my sweater and over one breast. He gave it a light squeeze and it felt like an electric shock. I gasped.

“We can’t, Bert, please, no.” He ignored me and kept on this time with both hands while he was kissing me. I pawed helplessly at his hands realizing that I didn’t want him to stop.

“Oh, God!” I thought while his hand gently manipulated my right breast. By now the other was on my left knee moving to where it shouldn’t. I was caving in like a sloppy mudslide and suddenly became terrified of what he might do if he found out what I was. I finally managed to push him away. looking at his tented pants and remembered Clara and Eddy. It didn’t take much to make me into a teenage slut.

“We’ve got to get Leticia.” I explained stiff arming him on the shoulder. I told him what happened and how they found a girl’s grave. “I think it’s Marlene.” Bert looked genuinely crestfallen at the news and pulled his hands away.

“By the way mom is calling me Marlene now, I guess because of the strain, so if she says anything while you’re there, just act normal and call me Marlene too.”

We had just turned into Leticia’s road when we saw her walking toward the highway, school pack hurriedly slung over one shoulder. As she climbed in she told us “I sneaked out and didn’t tell anybody. I’ll call mom when we get to your place.” She looked at the lipstick on Bert’s face and smiled “I know what you’ve been doing.”

When we got back I told Leticia to go on ahead, that I’d be up in a minute. Bert continued his one sided wrestling match and ran his hands all over me, up my skirt and under my sweater. This time I felt deliciously helpless and didn’t resist at all though I didn’t take anything off. I even unbuttoned the front of his shirt and ran my hand over his slightly hairy chest. His beard tickled and I started giggling like a six year old. For a moment I remembered that I could have been hairy like that but it slipped my mind with his next smooch.

“Bert, we’ve got to stop,” I gasped.

“Aww,” he mock frowned as I opened the door and staggered up the stairs waving. I realized he wasn’t supposed to be driving after dark. What if something had happened I thought. Oh, well.

Leticia was waiting on the porch. “I saw everything.” She had a big grin.

“Well don’t tell mom, please. I’m supposed to be too young to be a teenage slut.”

“Well you’re not any more, are you. Besides, you have to tell me every little detail.” Leticia grinned looking me up and down. My hair was falling down in sections, my sweater was pushed up to my chest and my skirt was rumpled and twisted. When I told her she had to call me Marlene in front of mom she looked at me funny.

Leticia’s mother was predictably upset when her daughter called. Afterward I talked to Addie and told her mom was sleeping and not feeling well after we heard about the grave in Sonoma County. At the mention of a grave Addie went silent. I described Zack’s visit and the sample I had to give. She sobbed saying “I hope it’s not Marlene,” and hung up. Down inside Addie knew it was Marlene. Leo had actually been friends with a really bad guy.

By the time I got off the phone it was dark and the two of us put on shorty nighties and sat around on talking. While I undressed Leticia stared unbelievingly. “You’ve got nothing there,” she said with a serious expression. “Did they operate on you? That’s what they do to boys like you.”

I told her with a puzzled look on my face that it happened all by itself. “The doctor gave me some medicine but even she’s puzzled about the fast changes.”

Then I told her about mom wanting me to go to Miss Benson’s School. At the mention of Miss Benson’s Leticia got a scornful look on her face. “Well I think you’d do real well there. They’re all so prissy and goody-goody. That’s how you are. Maybe you’ll meet a rich boy, get married and have lots of babies. She grinned evilly and poked me on both nipples with two fingers. “They’re so big now. What if they get bigger?”

“Well I don’t think it’s such a bad idea.” I covered myself defensively with my arms and snapped, “My babies won’t starve like yours will,” and stabbed her in the chest with my forefinger and stuck out my tongue.

Later I told her about the dreams. “Oh, man that’s really strange,” Leticia said. “Before I was born old people here told mom about creepy, weird things that used to happen, nothing bad, just really, really strange stuff. Somebody saw children walking around at night in spooky old costumes like the kind you see on TV. Once there was a girl living here who turned into a boy, something like you, I guess.”

I wondered if she meant Jenny’s daughter, but I didn’t want to get into it.

“ So you’re not the only girl who started as a boy,” she giggled. “I wish I could be a boy.”

In answer to her question my stomach cramped the next morning and I found blood on my underpants. “Well, there you are,” Leticia said, “You’re a girl for sure.” After that her teasing stopped.

TWINS by Marie, Part 25 - A New Life and Epilog
by Marie C

A few days later when I sat down to pee I reached under and felt an opening between my legs that hadn’t been there before. Leticia was still with us even after a week so I showed her. “My God, you are a girl now. I wonder if you’ll have periods too?”

In answer to her question my stomach cramped the next morning and I found blood on my underpants. “Well, there you are,” Leticia said, “You’re a girl for sure.” After that her teasing stopped.

I showed mom who suddenly became totally serious. “Here, use my pads.” She handed me a belt and box of Kotex and showed me how to put it on. There are some thinner pads she said but she didn’t have any around. I remembered Emma and Ana having problems like this but they never lasted long. I hoped I was the same.

I called the doctor and told her what was happening and she said to come right over. I didn’t think mom could deal with a trip to the city for a doctor’s visit, so I got Sandy to take me and Leticia to San Francisco. Sandy dropped us at the door and promised to come back in two hours.

The doctor went over me with a fine tooth comb including a pelvic. Then she X-rayed me from top to bottom. We had to stick around until the X-rays were developed so Leticia and I wandered around the shops on Union Square looking at neat things. Men kept staring and two boys followed us for a couple of blocks but didn’t have the courage to say anything.

When we returned to the doctor’s office the X-rays showed that I was completely a girl. “We’ll check the blood samples and let you know later, but there’s no doubt in my mind. I don’t know how it happened except that you must have been a girl all along. When puberty started all of your male parts were just sort of pushed out of the way.”

On the way back I told Sandy what the doctor said. She looked at me in a matter-of-fact way. “It’s pretty obvious,” and turned her attention back to the road.

Back in the office Dr Gardner wrote up her notes.

“Subject called me on his, now her own, excited and apparently menstruating. Mother is currently in shock over discovery of possible remains of her original daughter so felt it best to see subject without parent. Social Work staff will contact mother in an effort to be supportive. A young female friend accompanied subject to the examination.

“Superficial examination revealed a fully developed vulva and vagina during normal menstruation. A pelvic was attempted but detailed examination was difficult due to the flow. As per plan full body X-rays were administered revealing a normal uterus and vagina. No traces of male organs were present. Breast development had reached adult standards.

“Most amazing was the presence of a female pelvic structure and nearly closed bone epiphyses. The subject was virtually formed. She now has the body of an eighteen year old female, whereas just months ago subject was an effeminate, 13 year old male.

“This is an historically remarkable case for which there is no precedent as far as we can determine. Some journals have published second hand reports of similar cases although none have ever been reviewed under standard testing procedures.

When we got home Sandy said welcome to girls’ land. This calls for a toast and we drank big cokes with ice. Mom was in bed asleep when I checked. I guess she took her nerve pills. I had to change my pad as the flow was pretty heavy. My breasts were super sensitive and I felt icky all over. Sandy gave me a pill from her prescription. She has terrible cramps sometimes. Leticia gave me a back rub.

EPILOG

It’s been more than two years now. According to school records I’m seventeen going on eighteen. I’ve been secretly using Marlene’s name and birth certificate for some time. The only one at school who knows different is Leticia and she’s real cool about it. Mom and Zack call me Marlene because it’s easier than having to keep correcting each other. It really doesn’t bother me because I never really got used to the name Darlene.

As you may have guessed Leticia and I are tight now. We room together at Miss Benson’s five days a week and go home weekends. I talked mom into fixing my room so Leticia can crash there anytime she wants, which she does a lot because her family, especially her brothers, still hassle her for getting Leo in trouble. The judge let him off with a year’s probation because he gave evidence on Decker. But that wasn’t enough for the other brothers. It seems no one except Addie accepts the fact that Leo was hanging out with some real bad characters and knew it. Leticia's father and the other boys make her feel real creepy when she’s at home. I don’t know what happened to Decker. Locked up in a slimy dungeon forever, I hope.

Mom tutored the two of us so we could get into Miss Benson’s. Manny says Leticia has to learn how to be a lady so that’s why she’s there though Leticia thinks he just wants her out of the way. This thing with Leo has really split Leticia’s family, but whenever Manny says Leticia needs to be a lady she explodes but she goes to school anyhow because we’re together. Besides there are two girls from Caracas and Mexico City in our class and she may go visit one of them at Christmas.

There’s a real neat lady, Miss Ramá­rez, from South America who teaches all our Spanish classes and serves as Leticia’s and my advisor. So Leticia’s doing o.k. though sometimes her temper gets out of control. She has awful run-ins with two dweeby rich girls who are totally irritating. Sometimes Miss Ramá­rez and I have to sit on Leticia physically until she calms down. I keep telling Leticia she would be a good lawyer because she doesn’t take anything from anybody.

Miss Ramá­rez is real surprised that I can understand so much Spanish. So am I, but maybe I shouldn’t be.

School is still easy for me, so I don’t need to study hard. Except for Leticia my classmates seem pretty shallow and juvenile. A lot of them goof off, duck classes or hide on the grounds and smoke pot. A few come to me for help with their schoolwork so I’ve become a kind of unofficial tutor even though we’re all the same age, at least according to the records. I help them pick out new clothes though I won’t choose the far out stuff. They do that without anybody’s help.

Sometimes I even assist in the school office. The secretaries say I learn so fast I should help every day. Two days a week they leave me completely in charge at lunch time. Whenever parents tour the school the principal always asks me to be the guide.

We had to give away Marlene’s old clothes because they didn’t fit and were too childish anyhow. I had to start wearing mom’s skirts and blouses right after my period started. Most of them fit although there were a few we had to take in. We’re just about the same size now. Sometimes people mistake us for sisters.

Leticia and the other kids tell me I’m a geek for being so conservative but that’s the way I like it. I still don’t like pants and always wear hose and heels when I can. At school we wear a jumper uniform and flats with cotton socks — ick, ick, ick. I finally gave up on the corset but I keep it tucked away just in case. Besides it’s a souvenir of my Emma dreams.

Zack started calling again. He and mom are more or less going steady now. He stays over a couple of times a week and I think they might get married, at least I hope they do. I call him Uncle Zack because he likes it. Mom finally told him about me and he talked to our doctor. He’s never heard of anything like it although as a cop he sees lots of strange things.

He talked mom into selling the Nicasio house and we moved to San Anselmo near my school. I felt bad about leaving but agreed it was time to go. A young couple from Silicon Valley paid a good price so mom was able to get a much smaller three-bedroom in town that doesn’t need so much upkeep. The new owners of our old place have two small children, but I didn’t find out if they’re boys or girls. Also mom got lucky and is teaching part-time at a local public school. She might get a full-time position next year.

Jenny is still there by the creek tending her herbs and chickens. Mom drives me over every month to help out as it’s getting harder for her to take care of things. As a reward I get to play with her grandmother’s nice clothes. I found some just like Emma’s and used old hair pads to come up with a nice pompadour. I have some neat pictures of me in a shirtwaist and long skirt that mom took. We even arranged part of a room with old timey furniture so that the whole thing looked real. I’m so glad Emma and I could learn things together. I really miss her and wonder what ever happened to her. Someday I’ll try to find out if she married Mr. Crocker. Then I realize it was a dream, or was it?

Before we moved Leticia and I hiked the trail behind Bill’s cottage to the ruins. I realized this is where Ana might have lived. Somebody told mom that the adobes were destroyed during a big earthquake in 1865. A lot of people were killed. If Ana was there did she survive?

After thinking about it I’m starting to believe that both Emma and Ana were real people although I can’t really say so to anybody but Jenny. Jenny agrees but she can’t explain why either.

Old Bill died of a heart attack one night in bed with his San Francisco girl friend. Mattie won two million dollars in the state lottery, stopped cleaning up after other people and bought a small house in East Oakland. She spends most of her time now helping at church. She says I’m very pretty for a white girl.

As I feared the grave in Sonoma County turned out to be Marlene’s. A service was held at the little Catholic church and the whole valley turned out including Leticia’s mother and father. Marlene was buried in the little churchyard where Mom and I visit and leave flowers every week.

This past year Sandy hired me to help with her weekend sales presentations. I serve refreshments, set out chairs, easels, audiovisual equipment, smile at the clients and look pretty. She has me wear low-cut sleeveless blouses, push-up bras, short skirts, heels and that really silky sheer hose. My makeup includes high gloss lipstick and colored eye shadow. I’m not always comfortable dressed that way but she sells more computers when I look like that. She says to think of the outfit as a uniform. Mom frowns and says I look like a high class tart, whatever that is.

When I sit next to Sandy at sales presentations she wants me to cross my legs back and forth and pull at my skirt. That’s another part of the act I don’t particularly like. “If you make eye contact with a guy just smile and keep moving your eyes around the room,” she says. “If you hold eye contact he’ll think you want a date.”

I admit I get lots of attention from men when I’m all fixed up. I like it most of the time but it isn’t all pleasant. The young guys think I’m in my twenties and are dead certain I want to come trotting after them whenever they snap their fingers. That boy Eric came to one of Sandy’s sessions and he turned out to be even more conceited than ever. Sandy showed me how to brush off the Erics of the world with a sweet smile and quick step in the opposite direction.

I like older men because they’re the most thoughtful, especially the Frenchmen. A Mr. Le Clerc from Europe has a branch office in San Francisco and comes to all of Sandy’s sales pitches. “Marlene,” he says, “come to Paree and be my mistrass.”

He tells me he owns a special apartment overlooking the Seine which is just waiting for me. He would buy all my clothes and give me money and a car of my own! According to him people in his country never think twice about that kind of arrangement. He told me he’s married with four children of his own, two of them older than me! At school I found out the Seine was a river, but I had to ask Sandy what a mistress was.

Bert and I date regularly though not so much since I started school and the weekend jobs. He joined the Marines for a hitch, so I only get to see him every month when he comes up on leave from Camp Pendleton. I hope he doesn’t get sent overseas like dad. There’s too much war around and I don’t like it. Leticia and I even went on a big march in San Francisco to protest the war in Iraq.

Anyhow Bert is a genius at unhooking brassieres, buttons and zippers. Down inside I just wanted him to rip my clothes off and carry me away to paradise like they do in those drippy women’s novels. But I didn’t have sex with him right away. Mom noticed how close we were getting so she sat me down and explained all about birth control. She got some pills from Doctor Gardner which I take every day.

Before Bert graduated from high school he asked me to marry him and produced a big engagement ring. I was stunned but down inside knew that’s what I really wanted. I don’t want a fancy college degree right now. For now getting an MRS will be quite enough, thank you. So I said yes, but we’re not going to marry until I finish high school which will be this Spring. Mom promised to give her consent if I’m still underage.

After he gets out of the Marines in another year he has a job waiting at his father’s business so the ceremony will be sometime while he’s in a Marine Corps dress uniform. Mom and I have even gone out looking at wedding dresses. I think I’ve tried on a hundred! It’s so exciting. I felt like Emma was with me the whole time.

Just imagine I’ll be Mrs. Marlene Newman, very soon! One day I sat at my vanity writing my future name over and over and stopped when I realized I had covered three pages.

Before he graduated Bert took me to his senior prom and I wore the engagement ring. How could I not? The diamond is so huge, sparkly and expensive looking. Mom and I bought a sexy below the knee gold satin dress with a handkerchief hem, shirred waist and a deep v-neck halter top. Underneath I wore a matching bikini, garter belt and super sheer nude stockings. No bra! My shoes were delicious high-heeled gold strap sandals. I put on my own mother’s pearl earrings and a simple gold chain for a necklace and let my hair hang loose down my back and over my shoulders. I wonder what she would have said if she saw me then. I remember how much fun she had dressing me up so long ago. I can’t imagine how my father would have reacted.

Well, this outfit was so soft, thin and airy it felt like nothing and I could feel everything though it especially Bert. He was so handsome in his white jacket and tux. At that dance I ran into the girls from the mall and Grace kept saying “See, she always was a girl.” Bert looked puzzled at her comment but no one was willing to explain, least of all me, so I just grabbed him by the hand and led him back to the dance floor where we moved together real close for the rest of the night.

Afterwards we went to a party at a friend's house in Mill Valley which was built high up on the slopes of Mount Tamalpais and looked out over San Francisco Bay. We could see all the way to the city with the water shining like glass under a full moon. Apparently the friend’s parents were out of town and didn’t know about the goings-on.

Out on the second story deck I told him I wanted him to make love to me right now. Just strip me bare and do it right here on the deck in front of everybody. I was so worked up with wearing his ring after dancing so close that he could have done anything he wanted. But Bert was smarter than that and got his buddy to open a guest room that we could lock and was very gentle the whole time. Why I didn’t let him do it before I don’t know. Now all I can think about is babies and when can I stop taking this pill.

During our first love session I thought I heard a little voice say “Peter, you’re back, you’ve finally returned. I’ve waited so long.” Later when Bert woke me the second time that night he said I was talking in my sleep. “It sounded like Spanish,” he said. “You’ve been studying too hard.”

I can’t imagine being a boy. Once in a while I remember Darlene’s scrawny little body but it seems so distant and unimportant. Why would I want to be anyone else, especially since I’ve been blessed with beauty and a pleasant personality. I know a lot of girls who are openly jealous of how I look.

I still love getting dressed up. Leticia and I go through each other’s closets every time we get together.

I remember how Bert pushed me against the wall and kissed me when we were in grade school. He was rough but I still liked it. Other times I think about how Leticia and I used to play dress up at home with all the other kids, in and out of my big closet. It was so much fun. And my dolls and Growl, the bear.

Then I say “Marlene, stop it. Those are your memories! Not mine.” I get really pissed and then things stay quiet for awhile.

The End

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Thanks for your patience and for going along with all the twists and turns of my labored tale. And thanks to Erin and Sephie for all their outstanding work.

Marie C.