Introduction: The year is 2076, not that is extremely important. The story takes place at the same time as Five Love Stories en Brochette; much of it at the same time as the last chapter of that story. It has been almost six years since that story was published here. In that story, Scott Adams is briefly mentioned in a couple of sentences near the beginning, and once again in the epilogue. Wren Phoenix thought it might be nice to know a bit more about Scotty Adams. I’m sorry, Wren, that it took so damn long to get around to it.

Scott’s mother disappears when Scott enters seventh grade. He no longer has the buffer of his mother to protect him from his father. He also discovers the comfort of dressing in his mother’s clothing. That does not turn out well when he is discovered. Scott has figured out how to get away from his father for most of the day, Monday through Friday, during the summer. Still, he has to deal with him on the weekends.

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This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

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Scott Free
 

Chapter 3

The one thing that stood out in Scott’s mind was their constant fighting. It had to be one of his earliest memories. It seemed like most of the time it was his fault, or it had something to do with him. He loved his mother very much, and she returned that love. She was patient with him. She tried to teach him right from wrong. She read to him at night. There were wonderful stories. Some were scary, but she would try to explain what the important lesson was that might be hidden in that story. She taught him how to read. She would tell him that he needed to go to college so that he could have a better life than she and his father had. Scott was a bit confused about that as he didn’t really have anything to compare his life to. All things considered, they probably lived as well as 25 percent of the inhabitants of the area.

He remembered when his father got hurt. They visited him in the hospital. His leg had all sorts of things attached to it. He finally got better, but he didn’t go to work. His mother stopped taking him to daycare for a while. She had told his father that they could save a lot of money if he would take care of Scott while she worked. That proved to be a mistake rather quickly. His dad would watch television all day long and drink beer. There were many times when he forgot to fix lunch for Scott. At least Scott knew how to fix breakfast cereal.

Elaine came home early one day to find Scott by himself. His father had gone to Myrtletown to get beer. He may or may not have forgotten to take Scott with him. Scott went back to the daycare in Kneeland the next day. He was fed there and got to play with other children his age. It was about that time when he found that he enjoyed playing with the girls more than he did the boys. No one really thought much about it at that time.

When Scott was five, he was enrolled in kindergarten at the Kneeland Elementary school. They had a before and after school program which meant his mother could leave him off at 7:00 AM. He could get a nutritious breakfast and lunch, and then be taken care of until his mother could pick him up.

When they would get home, his mother would yell at his father because he’d been smoking inside the trailer. One of her rules was that there was no smoking indoors. He’d bitch about it saying that it was “his house” and he’d smoke in it when he wanted to. She’d exclaim that it was bad for Scott’s health. Scott could remember his father saying he could “give a shit”. It would be several years before Scott figured out what that meant. Then the argument would migrate to when was his father going to get a job so that they could “get out of this dump?”

Yelling seemed to be the way to solve problems; however, Scott wasn’t too sure that was really the best way to do things. Many times after their fights they would retreat to the bedroom where different types of noises emanated. Scott usually put himself to bed. When he was about twelve, Scott realized what was going on behind closed doors. But the arguments continued, and his mother’s black eye was an indicator that things were getting worse, not better.

Then disasters of all disasters happened. His mother left his father, and she didn’t take him with her. It was only a week after starting seventh grade in Eureka when he came home to find his father drunker than usual.

“She left me, Scott. She left us. She ran off with some asshole from San Francisco. She took half her shit, and just drove off. I don’t know what we’re going to do.

“Get me a beer.”

Why would his mother do something like that? She would never have left him, would she? She’d often said that the only reason she’d stayed was because of him. Scott cried himself to sleep that night. He didn’t have any dinner.

He fixed some cheerios the next morning. His father was still asleep. He smelled the pungent odor of burning plastic when he came out of his bedroom, and found he carpet smoldering under the ashes of an unfiltered cigarette butt. He cleaned up the butts and poured water over the smoldering spot. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to do that.

In spite of being in a new school for only a week, Scott had made several friends. Jimmy Kincaid and Diane Wilkes had gone to Kneeland Elementary with Scott the previous year. It didn’t matter where one went to school, and regardless of existing policies against it, there would always be an individual or two who assumed the role of class bully. Scott’s slight build and reticence made him a natural object of the bullies because he couldn’t or wouldn’t retaliate. Most bullies were cowards, anyway. They certainly wouldn’t pick on someone bigger and stronger than they were.

Jimmy Kincaid, whose father was an executive at the mill where Scott’s mother worked, was that bigger and stronger individual. He was basically just a good kid who had a decent upbringing. He’d caught two of the nastier guy cornering Scotty, Jimmy called him Scotty immediately after they met for the first time, and Jimmy let the two, Arturo Dominguez and Gary Reinwand, know that under no uncertain terms they were to cease and desist harassing Scotty. Gary, the main instigator, tried to take exception to being told what he could or couldn’t do by taking a swing at Jimmy. Jimmy caught his fist in mid swing and forced Gary to his knees. Art thought better of creating any further trouble.

Diane knew Scotty as a gentle soul who unknown to himself had a very feminine presentation. No one had asked Scotty why he acted the way he did. It was just the way he was. She knew he loved his mother; however, he wouldn’t say much about his father other than he didn’t work because of an injury.

The problems started appearing during the second week of school. Scotty was very morose and uncommunicative after he got on the bus. Usually, he was all smiles when he got on. Diane and Jimmy would always make sure he had a seat with them.

“What happened, Scotty?” Diane asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We can’t have you glowering around all day. You need to get it out so that we can fix things.”

“You can’t fix this; no one can.”

“Well, we certainly can’t if you don’t tell what’s wrong,” Diane said.

“My mother ran off with another man, and I don’t know where she is,” Scotty started crying. “She didn’t even tell me she was going to go. I thought she loved me.”

“I’m sure your mother loves you. She’s probably just waiting to get settled before she comes back to get you.”

“I wish she would. My father’s drunk all the time. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t love me or even want me.”

Things did not get any better over the weeks. Then they got worse. Scott had gotten off the school bus and was walking down the dirt road to the trailer when he noticed a thin plume of smoke rising above the trees that lined the road. The trees were some hardwoods that the logging operation had no interest in – some madrone and bay trees mostly; maybe a few oaks. He found his father beyond the far end of the trailer putting things into an old 55 gallon drum. They were not vigorously burning. Several paper bags full of things were waiting to be added to the smoldering mass.

“What are you doing, father,” he asked quietly.

“Shit, I’m burning some of the trash your mother left. There’s no need to keep any of this crap around here. It’s just taking up room.

“I need to get a beer. As soon as that fire burns down a bit, dump the rest of that shit in that barrel. I’m going inside.”

“Yes, Father.”

Scott picked up a bag. It was full of his mother’s things. He could smell his mother. There were her dresses. He dumped the contents onto the patch of grass that served as what little lawn they had. They were some of his mother’s favorites. She wore them when she was in a good mood; maybe when she was trying to encourage his father to have sex with her. He looked in another bag. It contained some bras and panties. Another bag; her blouses.

He looked into the smoldering barrel. There were her shoes and other personal articles. What did she take with her, he wondered?

He picked up the floral dress that she had worn on few of the happy occasions, carefully folded it and placed it back in the bag. He could hear his father’s footsteps coming from beneath the trailer. He followed them to the kitchen, then back to the living room. They stopped opposite the widescreen. Scott knew then and there what he had to do, needed to do. He could smell his mother’s perfume that permeated some of her nicer clothes. It was mixed with the smell of her deodorant. For the moment, it was all he had of his mother. Searching through the bags, he found some of her makeup. He set that aside. Another bag had some of her magazines. He’d seen the ashes of other magazines in the barrel incinerator.

While listening for his father’s movements, he carefully separated what he liked from what he felt he could discard. By the time he put the last bag of items into the barrel, he’d placed two bags behind the trailer’s skirt. He’d bring them in and hide them later. He would keep as much of his mother he could until she came back for him. He knew she would.

“You got that shit burnt?”

“Yes, Sir, but it’s not burning real well. You might want to put some gasoline on it tomorrow to get it burned completely.”

Scott brought out a couple of TV dinners and microwaved one for his father before he fixed his. He put his father’s on the TV tray along with another beer. He didn’t have to be asked.

His father’s disability check usually arrived on Friday, every other week. His father would take it to the bank on Saturday, cash it, and then hit the supermarket with Elaine. Most California supermarkets were full service liquor stores. That just made Jake’s shopping trips that much easier. In the past, Elaine would make sure that they got enough food, and she would try to control the purse strings as much as possible. Normally at the plywood mill, the employees would work four twelves, have four days off, and come back for four more twelve hour shifts. They would rotate shifts every quarter. The mill worked seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. They would stand down one day a month for maintenance and clean-up. The dispatch office worked only during the day, and normally Monday through Friday. This meant that Elaine would have the weekends off, and she could manage the shopping. Shopping became a bit easier than it had been before Jake got hurt.

That was all changed now.

About a month after his mother’s disappearance, his father started going into town at night, leaving Scott to his own resources. Sometimes, he’d be home around midnight; however, on some weekends he wouldn’t get home until nearly dawn. It all boiled down to that fateful Saturday night. Jake had left around six o’clock for his trip to Eureka. The sun was getting close to setting, and Scott knew he would have several hours to himself.

The bags of clothing and his mother’s personal articles were hidden in in the back of his closet and in a cabinet in the laundry room. His father never did the laundry, and Scott had taken over that job without any complaint from his father. Scott very carefully retrieved the floral pattern dress, a bra that he’d carefully adjusted several weeks before, and the panties he could barely keep from sliding off his hips. A feeling of great peace spread over him as he adjusted the dress. It didn’t matter that it didn’t fit properly. He’d tried some makeup in the past; however, he knew he needed more, much more, practice before he got it right.

His hair was quite long, his mother had never been after him to get it cut, besides the closest barber was twenty miles away. She would even it up every once in a while. She would gently wash it before cutting it. He loved the attention she gave him. He thought about her as he parted his hair down the middle, and then using the scrunchies he’d salvaged, gave himself two pig tails. He wanted to give himself bangs, but he knew he’d never get away with it. He’d have to make do.

The satellite TV had two nice classical music channels. One was more pops, and the other played longer works. His mother liked to listen to it although she didn’t know very much about the music. They’d listen to it if his father wasn’t around. It was strictly CW otherwise, not that Scott didn’t like CW. The classical music was just a lot more interesting. A couple of the radio stations in the area broadcast classical music at certain times; however, they were on the wrong side of the ridge to get a good signal.

She, there was no doubt about that now, fixed a cup of hot chocolate, and settled down in an easy chair with one of the glamour magazines she’d salvaged. She smoothed the dress under her as she sat, and then tucked her legs back. The music, a Brahms piano concerto, masked the sound of the approaching vehicle, and she didn’t realize her father had returned until he flung the front door open.

“Forgot my fucking wallet, and those whores won’t fuck on credit,” he muttered.

“Who the fuck are you?” he half shouted as he saw Scott for the first time.

Scott was paralyzed with fear, and couldn’t respond.

Then the realization of whom her father was seeing sank in. “Why you goddam fucking little faggot, I shoulda killed ….”

Those were the last things Scott would remember for a while.

Chapter 4

The first thing he realized was that he was cold. The second thing was that his head hurt. It hurt a lot. He was no longer wearing his mother’s dress, and it was nowhere to be seen. He was still wearing the panties, but the bra was gone, too. He tried to stand, and after almost losing his balance, managed to get upright. The hair on the left side of his head was hanging down, while the hair on the right was still in a pigtail.

The light of dawn was beginning to come through the windows, and the only thing he could think of was going to bed. He lay there for a while trying to figure out what happened. He was reading makeup hints when the front door flew open, and his father returned. Why? He shouldn’t have been home for at least another four hours. He’d forgotten his wallet. That’s what it was. Then he said something about paying some whores. So that’s what he was doing. Shit, that was obvious. He hadn’t thought about it that much. He was just glad his father was not home.

Wow, his father hadn’t recognized him at first. He’d thought he was a girl. Then he did recognize him. The last thing he could clearly remember was that his father was advancing on him. There was fire in his eyes and he’d made a fist. That was the last thing he could remember.

The area behind his ear was very sore, and when he started to roll over he realized that his side also was very painful. He must have dozed off after that. The next thing he knew, his father was yelling for him.

“Scott, git yore sorry ass out here.”

Scott knew there was no escaping confrontation with his father.

His father was drinking a beer. When wasn’t he?

“If I ever catch you dressing up like that again I’ll beat the living shit out of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

For the next year and a half Jake did not catch Scott wearing any of his mother’s clothing. Scott was a bit more careful in his ventures into exploring his feminine side. He was probably a bit too trusting in his father’s habits. Jake Adams hadn’t done a lick of laundry since he and Elaine had married, and Scott hadn’t found it difficult at all to pick up on the laundry chores. Scott’s cache of his mother’s clothing remained hidden in the utility closet in the alcove that served as a laundry room. That was until an invasion of Philippine cockroaches drove Jake into hunting for some insecticide.

Scott knew the game was up as soon as he entered the trailer that Friday afternoon. The makeup, underwear, dresses, skirts and blouses were spread across the living room floor. Jake was standing by the door when Scott entered. He was holding a switch of bamboo cut from a patch that grew at the edge of the untended lands next to the trailer. The beating lasted for ten minutes. Then Jake stood by as each item was put in the barrel, doused with charcoal lighter, and burned to ash or at least in the lowest form of remains possible.

Jake returned to the trailer, never saying a thing. Scott never gave his father the satisfaction of saying a thing as the blows rained on his back. He stoically followed his father into the trailer where his father had already opened a beer and was watching the early evening edition of the news on the local FOX channel.

Fortunately, Scott was wearing a rather heavy shirt and an undershirt beneath that. Still, the repeated lashes had cut through the material in several places. Scott gingerly pulled his t-shirt off, it was sticking to the blood. He could see at least a dozen welts and about half as many deep scratches oozing blood. He cleaned up things as best he could, spreading antibiotic ointment on the cuts and putting on a clean T-shirt. He slept on his stomach for the next week.

Jimmy and Diane noticed his painful expression the next Monday as Scott got on the bus. His back pack was not slung across his shoulders like it had been in the past. He did not lean back into the seat like he normally did.

They never would see the damage. It was finals week, and gym class was over.

“What are you going to do this summer?” Diane asked.

“I signed up for summer school. I’m going to take geology and Biology. If I do well enough, I might be able to get a scholarship for college.”

“Those are pretty tough courses,” Jimmy added.

“Yeah, I’m going to take both semesters.”

“Who’s your teacher going to be?” Diane asked.

“Mr. Joe.”

“Oh, he is so handsome. I wish I were going to school with you.

“We’re going to Europe with Jimmy’s family. I guess we’ll see you next fall.” Diane gave Scott a hug, and neither Jimmy nor Diane failed to notice that Scott winced.

“What do you think happened to Scotty?” Diane asked as they got off the bus.

“I’d say his father whipped the shit out of him. Did you see the back of his shirt?”

“No.”

“There are spots of blood. I saw that a couple of days ago. Scotty would never wear a dirty shirt. That son-of-a-bitch beat him just like he’d done in the past.”

“Maybe we should tell someone.”

“We probably should. I talked to my dad about it, and he said we shouldn’t get involved.” That was one of the few times that Jimmy and Diane let Scott down.

Mr. Joe: who was he? He was Joe Esterházy, two time Olympic Decathlon Champion. If there was a local hero in Humboldt County, Mr. Joe was it. He was the head coach at Eureka High School, and also taught several science classes. He was probably one of the most admired persons in Humboldt County: not just because he was an athletic hero and great coach, but because he was an admired teacher and instructor.

His wife, Amy, was equally admired. She was the principal of Zane Middle School, but also taught English during the summer sessions. She was a forthright, no nonsense administrator and teacher. In spite of being short, very busty, and some might say zaftig, she had little problem maintaining control of the students and staff.

The Esterházys had five children with another on the way, although that was not common knowledge. They’d gotten an early start on parenthood and were married while Joe was still in high school. Amy was a year older than Joe, and their families had been close for years. They’d fallen in love early in their teens, and in spite of their precautions, Amy got pregnant during her senior year. They didn’t attempt to hide her pregnancy from their parents, and after the initial shock wore off, life went on. They both graduated from Humboldt State with honors, and then got their Master’s Degrees. Their son had a baby sister by then.

Scott had considered running away many times; however, he realized he didn’t have the strength or knowledge of how to get by in the outside world. He would avoid his father as much as possible, try not to provoke him any more than he’d already done. He’d eventually think of something, but right now he felt his options were limited. Hopefully, his mother would show up and take him away from this misery. He wondered where she was. Was she even alive?

Scott’s sense of preservation had led him to acquiring the funds he needed by various means. He’d convinced his father to provide lunch money, and to take care of ‘unexpected’ expenses, he’d padded the account amount needed. He’d also appropriate an additional $20.00 or so from his father’s wallet after he’d come home from visiting the ladies of the night. He never missed it. He wasn’t much of an accountant. Scott’s mother had always looked after the books. His father managed to survive from check to check; however, there wasn’t much beyond that. As far as Scott knew there weren’t any savings.

What was he going to do during the two weeks before school started? He had enough money for lunch and snacks so food wouldn’t be a problem. The major problem as he’d known from the beginning was getting to and from Eureka. His major exercise over the next two weeks would be to work it out.

He ate breakfast while listening to his father snoring in the easy chair where he’d passed out the night before. Out of habit, Scott collected the beer cans and cleaned up the cigarette butts that missed the ash tray. He’d crush the beer cans later in the week. Aluminum brought a good price these days.

Now, it was time to see if his plan even had a chance to work. After all, if he couldn’t get a ride to Eureka he wouldn’t be able to get to school. He left his father asleep in his chair, grabbed his knapsack which had his notebook computer, closed the door, and headed down the narrow road to Butler Valley Road. He started walking while holding his hand and thumb in the time honored pose of asking for a ride. If he wasn’t picked up right away, his route would take him to the intersection with Fickle Hill Rd. a couple of miles up the road. He had three hours to get to his destination.

An old gentleman in an equally old gasoline powered pickup truck stopped for him no more than five minutes after he’d hit the main road.

“Thank you, sir,” Scott said as he got into the front seat.

“No problem. Where you headin’ for, young’un?” the driver asked.

“Eureka. I’m going to summer school at Eureka High. School doesn’t start for two weeks. If you’re going that far, could you take me to the library? It’s down on 3rd St.” Scott asked.

“Not a problem at all. I go right by it.”

Scott wasn’t always that lucky, but he found that he could probably get to the area of the school with an hour to spare. Getting home was another problem as many of the drivers heading in the general direction of Kneeland were not going nearly far enough, and many who were, were more interested in getting home rather than picking up a hitchhiker. It took two and a half hours to get home that first night. He wasn’t worried about the dark as it was still light at 9:30, but he didn’t want his father to get wise to what he was doing. He solved his problem the next day by constructing a sign that said, “Kneeland Butler Valley”. After that, it became pretty easy to get a ride. His appearance wasn’t very threatening, and several asked why he was doing what he was doing. He told them the truth. He was going to summer school.

The library was a wonderful place. He’d have to wait outside until they opened; however, they had free Wi-Fi that he easily connected to. He read and studied as much as he could about the subjects he was taking. He also found information about his own situation, the fact that he was very comfortable as a girl or young woman. It just felt right. Yes, he’d been caught and severely beaten, but that didn’t change one thing about his persona other than it increased his dislike for his father.

I wonder how long this hitchhiking is going to work out? Hopefully, the Esterházys might be able to intervene.

Introduction: The year is 2076, not that is extremely important. The story takes place at the same time as Five Love Stories en Brochette; much of it at the same time as the last chapter of that story. It has been almost six years since that story was published here. In that story, Scott Adams is briefly mentioned in a couple of sentences near the beginning, and once again in the epilogue. Wren Phoenix thought it might be nice to know a bit more about Scotty Adams. I’m sorry, Wren, that it took so damn long to get around to it.

Scott meets Mr. Joe, and Joe Esterházy becomes very concerned very quickly. He knows who Scott’s parents are, and he doesn’t think much of Jake. There is a major family get together that weekend and they come up with a solution to put a stop to Scott’s hitchhiking. The oldest of his three sisters, Persi, suggests that Jake Adams probably killed Scott’s mother. He had a history of beating up prostitutes.

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This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

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Scott Free
 

Chapter 5

First Day of School: well it was the first day of the summer session. His ride left him off at the far side of Myrtletown, and fifteen minutes later he was at his classroom. The door was still locked, so he plunked down with his back against a locker door and fished out his tablet. The school’s Wi-Fi was up and he opened up his browser. There was an email from Diane Wilkes. She and Jimmy were having a great time. They were near a town in Italy called Sienna. Scott had no idea where it was, but quickly found it on the internet.

What a beautiful place, he thought. Of course the posed pictures with the beautiful models both male, and especially female sent his mind into a ‘what if’ mode. He was certain he’d never get to Europe.

“Well, aren’t you the early bird?”

Startled out of his reverie, Scott jumped to his feet banging his head on the locker handle. “Ouch!”

“You okay?”

“Yes sir,” Scott said feeling the back of his head. There didn’t seem to be any blood.

He looked up at the giant who towered over him. It was ‘Mr. Joe’, and he had to be almost a foot and a half taller than Scott. He recognized him immediately.

“You taking geology?” Joe Esterházy asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Well, welcome to my class. I’m Mr. Esterházy, but you can call me Mr. Joe. Everyone does, and your name is?”

“Scott, Scott Adams. I’m a freshman.”

“Yes, I saw your name on the class roster. You’re taking biology in the afternoon class, too. That’s quite a hefty load. I had to take a look, and I noticed your grades are quite good. Not many students take both courses in the same semester.

“Let’s open up the classroom. You can help me set things up. We still have 30 minutes before class begins. Why so early?”

“I live past Kneeland, and the busses don’t run in the summer. I have to get a ride.”

“So you ride with a parent when they come to work.”

“No sir, I hitch a ride. My father doesn’t work. He’s disabled, and my mother left us. I don’t have any trouble getting a ride to Myrtletown, and it’s only a short walk over here.”

“Sounds like you’ve been doing this for a while,” Joe said with obvious concern as he looked at the frail and androgynous looking boy. His thoughts immediately flashed on the child being picked up by some predator. They certainly weren’t immune to that type in Humboldt County.

The realization hit Joe. Scott’s father was Jake Adams. There had been quite a trial a few years before that involved a rather large settlement. Some had thought that Jake was faking his disability; however, a sympathetic jury decided in his favor. He remembered seeing Jake and his wife being interviewed after the trial. Neither of them was attractive; however, he could sense something about Mrs. Adams. He felt sorry for her. He knew there was a child. If Scott’s mother had left his father, why hadn’t she taken him with her?

“Aren’t there any other friends up there who are taking summer school,” Joe asked.

“No sir, my best friends, Jimmy Kincaid and Diane Wilkes went to Europe with their parents. They probably wouldn’t be going to summer school, anyway.”

“I know the Kinkaids. They’re good folks. They have quite a house up there.

“So, do you live near them?”

“No sir, we live a couple of miles back towards Kneeland. We’re back on an old logging road that goes north about a mile and a half past where Fickle Hill Road comes in. Father bought almost a section of logged land back there before he and Mom got married. We live in a trailer back there. It’s not too bad.”

“Help me put out these materials. There are 22 students in the class, so we’ll use the first eleven tables.”

So, that was Scott’s introduction to Mr. Joe. As far as Scott was concerned, it went very well. Scott thought class went very well, too. He made his way to the cafeteria for lunch. He had two hours until the next class. So he could do his homework have lunch and get ready for the next class.

“Mind if I join you?”

Scott recognized the voice. He didn’t have to look up to see who it was, but he did. It was Mr. Joe.

“No sir, please have a seat.”

Joe had been sitting with some of the faculty when he noticed Scott by himself near the far wall. What caught his attention was the fact that Scott went back to the serving line and paid for a second helping of the main course, lasagna.

“You said your father is disabled; that he’s not working. What does he do?”

Scott’s expression told Joe that maybe he was getting a bit too personal. “He doesn’t do anything. He gets his disability check and goes to the supermarket in Myrtletown to get food and beer.”

Joe could see tears starting to form. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“That’s okay. Things were a lot better when Mom was there. She didn’t smoke, and wouldn’t let Father smoke inside. She didn’t drink much either. I just try to avoid him. That’s why I’m coming to summer school. Well, it’s not the only reason. I want to go to college, but father doesn’t care. I don’t think he’ll pay anything for me to go to college. I need to keep my grades good enough so I have a chance at a scholarship. I’m not an athlete like you are.”

“Would you like to go to Humboldt?”

“I guess; I’d just like to go somewhere so I didn’t have to see my father every day.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Hang in there.”

“Your call is important to us. Please leave your name and phone number and we will get back to you as soon as possible.”

“Bull shit,” Joe muttered to himself. It was his third call to Child Protective Services. He’d made it very clear in his first two calls what the issue was. They should have called him back.

He was very uneasy about Scott hitch hiking; so he next called the police. The police refused to do anything. Scott was not a truant, he wasn’t loitering, and he wasn’t hitchhiking in Eureka. If anyone, his parents should be taking care of the problem.

By the time he got to Child Protective Services they were closed. There was a note behind the glass of the door stating that the counselors would be on the road for the remainder of the week. There was a cell phone number to call in the event of an emergency. That number went immediately to voice mail. He left a message; however, he was beginning to have doubts that it would be returned.

Scott Adams showed up bright and early every morning the next three days. CPS continued to not return his calls. Joe was about ready to take measures that could potentially get him into trouble. He told Amy that he was concerned about a student, but hadn’t had time to get into much detail with her. Thursday things started going in directions that no one had anticipated.

Joe’s middle sister, Demeter, and her husband Arturo Vocelli plus their son had arrived to spend a few days at his parents place before they went off to an opera performance somewhere. Demi and her husband were probably the most sought after opera singers in the world. They lived near Vicenza, Italy, but always stopped at Demi’s parent’s ranch overlooking the Mad River and Butler Valley when they were in the US. To make things even better his oldest sister and her wife had brought their brood up from San Francisco to spend the weekend. His youngest sister and her husband would be arriving later that weekend. They were very lucky that they were able to get together at least once or twice a year in spite of the world travelling Demi and Helen, his youngest sister.

Helen had won the Van Cliburn Piano Competition three years before, and had married a year later. Her husband, Jimmy Levine, was Demi and Helen’s agent. They were definitely carrying on the music tradition that their grandmother and aunt had started many years before. His Aunt Fanny was going strong; however, his grandparents were deceased. Fanny would be there on the weekend.

Joe had a little brother who at the moment was wandering in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. He was going through some soul searching, as his mother had said. Apparently, he’d screwed up a relationship with a young woman he’d met in Santa Barbara. His parents had met her and thought the world of her. He’d seen her picture taken when she and Pat had received their Masters’ Degrees the month before. His little brother was very intelligent, except when it came to women.

He had given his biology class a research assignment at the end of class on Wednesday, told them that he’d see them Friday afternoon. Scott Adams waved at him as he headed for the parking lot after geology. Amy had already picked up the children at the daycare, and was waiting at home for him. Their two oldest were away from home. Michael was in Europe with his church group as was his girlfriend. Frances, their second, was doing an internship with the National Park Service in Yellowstone. They had waited a while before having Musetta, named after her great, great-grandmother. Then Stephan and Anne followed. And now Amy was expecting their sixth. They’d been married 20 years and were still only in their late thirties.

They took the same road to the Esterházy ranch that Scott took every morning to school. The curves and steep grade occupied much of Joe’s attention; however, he was pretty sure when they passed one road that it was the one leading to Scott Adam’s home. Joe was very conflicted. He’d already tried to go through official channels, and had no response. There were no overt signs of physical abuse; however, there were hints. Scott’s left hand was weak, and Joe had noticed on several occasions that Scott favored it a bit. He had winced once when shouldering his book bag. One of the main things that bothered him was that Scott had been coming to Eureka for two weeks prior to the start of the summer session. Scott was avoiding as much contact with his home life as possible.

Summer has definitely arrived in Butler Valley. The temperature had to be close to 90F. His dad was working in the garden. Although native plants abounded, some were not endemic to the sometime warmer inland valley. They’d had a particularly dry winter, and even some of the local species were suffering. The Ranch, as everyone called it was very fortunate in that they had a perpetual source of water. A large concrete tank was constantly filled by water diverted from a spring located on the property. It allowed them to avoid any water shortages.

Shortly after Joe’s birth, the Esterházys had installed a rooftop sprinkler system for firefighting purposes. The original owners of the house had installed a heavy shake roof. The problem was that although the roof was very aesthetically pleasing, it was a potential disaster if there was a nearby brush fire. Thousands of homes in California had been destroyed due to embers falling on a shake roof, even though the main fire hadn’t reached them. The Esterházys had had to implement the system only one time in the last nearly forty years. When it came time to replace the roof, they replaced it with the same cedar shakes.

The Mercedes sedan let them know that Demi and Arturo had already arrived. They had driven up from San Francisco where they had starred in Tosca a few days before. Persi and Clara’s car was parked next to the Mercedes. Pat’s car was nowhere to be seen. Then Joe remembered that Pat was off in the Sierras somewhere. It would be a day or two before Helen and Jimmy showed up.

Musetta and Stephan were off and running practically before the car stopped. They wouldn’t have any problem keeping entertained. Stephan would probably eventually head for the piano so he could show off his developing talent. He wanted to impress his aunt and great aunt.

There were hugs and kisses all around. Music was playing on the fabulous sound system as it had for years, and the windows were opened to the warm outside breezes. The usual formalities prevailed for a while: how was the trip, how do you like this weather, etc. Joe, his father and Arturo ventured outside to let the women talk among themselves for a while. Joe loved and admired Arturo. He was the first man who was willing to take on his wild sister. At six feet two inches she was the image of his mother, but unlike his mother, ran through men with great regularity. Arturo had a similar reputation with the women; however, when he and Demi met that was the end of their previous lives. He tamed her and she tamed him. They had finally found each other. Little Andres was their first child. He wouldn’t be their last.

Persi and Clara had been married for a number of years, had two children, another on the way, and wanted more. Persi, just as striking as Demi, and an inch taller, was a psychiatrist specializing in gender issues. Her wife, Clara, was an MD specializing in endocrinology. They were part of a group who operated a clinic specializing in gender identification issues. Joe knew he’d have to talk to Persi and Clara about some suspicions he’d had about Scott. He’d bring it up in private.

They had finally returned to the spacious family room to just relax bit. His mother and father were working on the dinner preparations. Clara had gone back out to check on the children. A knock at the door, actually a heavy three raps from the old iron knocker, got their attention.

“I’ll get it,” Demi said. She had just come back from changing Andres’ diapers.

Whoever was at the door couldn’t be heard; however, Demi brought the young woman into the house almost immediately.

“Mom, Dad, we have a visitor.”

The girl waved at his mother and father and they returned the wave. Joe suddenly realized it was the girl that Pat had gone to school with in Santa Barbara. He’d seen her picture taken at their graduation.

“Okay everyone, this is Karen Markley. I’ll start with that big handsome Italian. He’s Arturo and he’s mine, so keep your hands away. Next to him is my sister Persephone and that’s her daughter Penny. She and Clara also have a son Michael and Clara’s outside watching him and a bunch of the other kids. You’ll meet all of them soon enough. There won’t be a test: at least not yet. That other handsome hunk is my oldest brother, Joseph and that cute little thing with the boobs is Amelia.”

There was always this banter among the younger women about breast size, and it could be embarrassing at times.

It seemed that the young woman had dropped in to see Pat. She had wanted to see if he could go on a pack trip with her and some friends in Olympic National Park. Of course, Pat wasn’t there. When Clara returned from outside, Joe realized there was a striking resemblance between the two women. That was something not missed by anyone. The new arrival distracted Joe from talking with his sister and mother about his suspicions about Scott. He’d have to talk with them about it the next day, and too much time had already passed. They were coming come back after classes were over the next day.

Amy had spent a lot of time talking to Karen before they headed back to Eureka. And as they headed back down to the fork with Butler Valley Road the discussion centered on the young woman. Joe felt like she was very sincere. She hadn’t said it out in the open; however, he was pretty sure she’d told his mother that she loved Pat. There had been some tears when she and his mother had talked in private. He wasn’t that concerned about the relationship between his brother and the young woman. There was a more urgent problem, and his mind was brought back to that as he had to almost climb the side of the hill when a car came around the corner in the fog taking its half out of the middle.

“That was close,” Amy said.

“Remember that kid I told you I was worried about? That was his father, Jake Adams. Based on what we saw and what I can infer from the discussions I’ve had, Jake is probably drunk. He’ll go home, drink more, and probably pass out. Scott is undernourished. He’s eating two meals at the cafeteria. I told the staff not to charge him for the second helpings.

“I wanted to talk to Persi and Clara about him, but when Karen showed up, I never got a chance. I’m certainly not an expert about these things; however, I think he may be gay or transgender, and my inclination is that he’s the latter. I’ve had several gay students over the years, probably some I never knew about, and he doesn’t strike me as gay.

“We’ve got to get him out of that environment.”

“We have room for him,” Amy said.

“I know we do, but we can’t kidnap him. We have no legal grounds to take him away from his father. If at some point we do have legal grounds, I just hope it’s not too late. Scott’s hitchhiking scares the hell out of me, and the cops won’t do anything about it.”

Chapter 6

“Scott, would mind staying after class? We need to talk about some things.”

“No sir.”

Scott helped Mr. Joe put away some of the lab supplies. They were studying pond life: one celled organisms like amoeba and paramecia. They would be studying algae the next week.

“Amy and the kids and I are going up to have dinner with our family up in Butler Valley. I was wondering if you’d mind if we gave you a ride. That’d be easier than hitching a ride.”

“Okay.”

“I’d like to say hello to your dad; if you don’t mind.”

“Er, okay. Mr. Joe …”

“Yes.”

“Please don’t tell my father I’m hitchhiking. He thinks I’m taking the bus. I told him school started three weeks ago.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I went to the Library. I studied things. If I’m not around him. He won’t get mad at me. This way I’m only around him at night and on weekends. The only time we get out is when he gets his disability check so we can buy food. He buys a lot of beer.”

“Okay, I won’t tell him, but what are you going to do when the summer school session ends?”

“I was going to go to the library. There’s not much to do at home other than fix dinner, clean up things and do the laundry. Dad watches all those reality TV shows. I don’t get to watch anything. We have internet access, but it isn’t much use. I have some friends, and we talk on social media. They’re in Europe right now. If Father isn’t around, I listen to music. I like classical music.”

“Right, the Kincaids, you told me about them.

“You’re going to have to meet my family someday. My little sister won the Van Cliburn Piano Competition, and one of my other sisters is an opera singer. Shoot, there’s a whole bunch of us. One of my aunts is a composer, another is a pianist, and another is a cellist and conductor. My grandmother was a pianist, too.”

“I know all about your family. I read about them. There are pages and pages in Wikipedia. All of you are so famous.”

“Being famous doesn’t mean much if you’re not happy. We are very lucky.”

It wasn’t far to the Esterházy home. Scott marveled at the restored Victorian structure. He couldn’t believe how pretty it was. Mr. Joe’s wife was placing her youngest child in the minivan.

“Amy, I’d like you to meet Scott Adams. We’re going to take him home on our way to Mom and Pop’s.

“Kids, this is Scott. We’re going to take him home on the way to Gramma and Grampa’s.

“Scott, this is Musetta, and this is Stephan. The one in the chair is Annie.

“Hi, Scott,” Musetta said, “You’re cute. I thought you were a girl.”

Joe shuddered at that proclamation. Musetta was never one to hold back on anything.

“That’s alright. I don’t mind,” Scott replied.

Amy looked at Joe, and raised her eyebrow a bit. Joe nodded in return.

Scott pointed out the turn to his home, it was the one Joe had thought it was, and Joe turned down the narrow track. It was a bit further than he thought it would be back to the trailer.

What a mess, Joe thought as they pulled up. The trailer was old, probably older than Joe. A single car was parked under a rickety shelter to one side. A rusty barrel was behind it. It had obviously been used to burn trash; something that had been illegal in California for years. Several bags of crushed aluminum cans were lying next to the shelter. At least they recycled something, Joe thought. Then he realized that the trash pickup truck would never come back this far.

Joe followed Scott up the concrete block stairs. As Scott opened the door, he was greeted with, “Where in the hell have you been you little shit? Did you miss the bus again?”

Ignoring the comment, he pulled Joe into the shabby interior. “Dad, someone wants to meet you. Mr. Esterházy gave me a ride home. They were coming out this way and Mr. Joe said he’d give me a ride. Mr. Joe is my teacher.”

“How do you do, Mr. Adams.”

Jake struggled to his feet; his protruding belly hardly covered by a soiled T-shirt. He wobbled a bit as his eyes focused upwards at the man who towered over him. “The little sh… Er, he isn’t causing any trouble, is he?”

“Not at all,” Joe said as he took in the burned carpet, the empty beer cans, and the overpowering smell of stale tobacco smoke. “Scott is one of my best students. I just wanted to tell you how proud you should be of him.

“Scott, we’ll see you Monday morning. Don’t miss your bus.

“Mr. Adams, it was nice meeting you.”

Amy didn’t have to say anything as Joe returned to the car. Joe had a scowl etched into his face.

Musetta, wise beyond her years, said, “Pretty bad, huh?”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

Next few miles were driven pretty much in silence.

“Mom, when we get a chance, Amy and I want to talk with you, Persi and Clara about something. We need to do it in private.”

“That serious, huh.”

“Yes, it’s about one of my students. I think, no, I know, there is a serious problem.”

Thirty minutes later they were in the crowded study. Joe didn’t sit; there wasn’t room, anyway. He discussed what he knew for sure and what he suspected about Scott. He knew that stature and gender preference were not necessarily linked; however, he felt Scott’s eschewing any overt attempt at masculinity supported his suspicions.

“I was wondering if Persi and Clara could talk to him.”

“I certainly understand your concern,” Persi said, “however, we have no authority to do anything at this point. His father would have to allow it, and from what you’ve said, even if we offered to do any interviews or counseling pro bono, he wouldn’t allow it. What about the school psychologist?”

“He’s on vacation at the moment. He won’t be back for three weeks. I thought about that.”

“What about Child Protective Services?” Clara asked.

“They’re like trying to raise the dead. Half their staff is on vacation, and the rest won’t return my messages,” the frustrated Joe replied.

“Other than the abusive environment, Joe and I are very concerned about his hitchhiking,” Amy said. “He’s been lucky so far, but you can never tell about who might be driving.”

“I have an idea,” Sylvia said. “I’m going into Eureka on Monday morning. I’ll time my arrival at his road and take him into Eureka. I might even take him to the IHOP. I know who he is. I’ve seen him getting off the school bus several times. He waved at me a few weeks ago. I agree with Joe and Amy. The child is definitely androgynous. I thought he was a girl, especially with the hair.

“We have several friends who live in this area who go into Eureka to work. I’ll call them and see if we can put together a pick up schedule. Phil and I go to Humboldt frequently this time of year, even though we’re not teaching. It would be no big deal for us to take the longer trip.”

“Why take chances in picking him up?” Persi asked. “Mom, we need to gain his trust regardless of where this goes. There is absolutely no reason for a fourteen year old child to be hitchhiking anywhere.

“Joe, we have to get him away from that environment, but we have to make absolutely sure that we are not doing anything illegal. I just realized I know who Jake Adams is. I’ve heard stories over the years about him. He is an abusive drunk who frequented the waterfront area looking for prostitutes. That summer I did part of my internship up here, I dealt with some of the transgendered prostitutes. Jake was/is an alcoholic, transphobic, homophobic SOB. He beat up more than one of the ‘girls’ when he found out who they were.

“He’d stopped visiting the red light area when he got married to Scott’s mother. They were glad to see him go.

“So, what happened to Scott’s mother?” Persi asked.

“According to Scott,” Joe said, “she ran away with someone about two years ago. He keeps hoping that she’ll return.”

“The hell she ran away.” Persi exclaimed. “I’ll bet that son of a bitch killed her. Where did she work? Did anyone file a missing persons’ report? What about her parents?”

“Scott can probably give us that information. We’ll have to be careful how we approach him though,” Clara added.

“I don’t think I’ll have any problem finding out,” Joe said. “I think we have excellent rapport. The poor kid is looking for someone to love him. He has some good friends, but they’re out of the country right at the moment. The Kincaid’s son is a friend. They live just across the river.”

“I’ll start calling my friends tomorrow to see if we can work out a schedule to pick him up,” Sylvia said. “If need be, I’ll pick him up at school. I think they’ll understand how important this is.”

“What the hell’s the idea bringing your teacher around here? That’s all I need: someone nosin’ around here where it’s none of their business.”

Scott thought his father was going to hit him; however, he didn’t.

“Mr. Esterházy asked me to help him after class. His family was going to visit his parents back in Butler Valley, and he said he could give me a ride so I wouldn’t have to worry about catching the bus.”

“Don’t do it again. I don’t want those high falootin’ assholes around here where they ain’t got no business.

“Get me a beer.”

“Yes sir.”

The fog was blowing over the ridge as he made his way down the dirt road. The effect of the sun rising over the ridge to the east and shining on the fog was very interesting. As he came out to Butler Valley Road he was surprised to see a car parked on the side of the road. He recognized the car as belonging to the lady he’d seen and waved to a few weeks before. She was behind the wheel.

“Are you having car trouble, Ma’am?”

“No, I was waiting to give you a lift.”

“You were?”

“Scott, I’m Sylvia Esterházy. Joe is my son. Would you mind if I gave you a ride?”

“Er, no Ma’am,” Scott said as he got in the front seat.

“You know, you’re a bit too trusting. I know you’ve seen me before, but you didn’t know who I was.”

“I knew you were a professor at Humboldt. Some friends told me. You have that big place on the other side of the valley.”

“We have a deal for you. My friends and I will give you a ride to and from school. When school’s over this summer, either I or my husband will take you with us to Humboldt where you can study or help us out during the day.

“We’re worried about you, and I’m pretty sure you know why. Would you mind if we were able to get you away from this environment to a place where you’d feel safe?”

Scott started crying.

Sylvia pulled off the road at Kneeland. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Scott took the tissue Sylvia offered him and blew his nose. It took two more tissues to get him cleaned up.

“I don’t know what to do,” he sniffed. “I tried to do what he wants, but nothing seems to matter. I can’t do anything right but bring him his beer. He drinks every night until he passes out, except for the nights when he looks for whores. I don’t want to live there. I know why my mother left. I just wish she’d taken me with her.”

“Where did your mother work?” Sylvia asked.

“She worked at the plywood mill, the same place where Father worked before he got hurt.”

“We’re going to find out where she is, and we’re going to get you away from here, but we have to do it the right way. This may take a while. Please be patient.

“Tomorrow, a lady who has given you a ride twice before will be waiting to pick you up. She’s Martha Spencer. She has a red Ford, and she will also pick you up after school. I’m going to give you a list and pictures of everyone who is doing this. Promise me that you won’t hitchhike anymore.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

The Esterházys have come up with a partial solution to Scott’s problems, but they are not going to stop there. Joe is going to take charge of what he realizes is an untenable situation.

Introduction: The year is 2076, not that is extremely important. The story takes place at the same time as Five Love Stories en Brochette; much of it at the same time as the last chapter of that story. It has been almost six years since that story was published here. In that story, Scott Adams is briefly mentioned in a couple of sentences near the beginning, and once again in the epilogue. Wren Phoenix thought it might be nice to know a bit more about Scotty Adams. I’m sorry Wren that it took so damn long to get around to it.

Phil and Joe Esterházy take charge. More and more evidence points to Elaine’s murder; however, the police are reluctant to do anything due to the evidence being only circumstantial. Then, Joe takes Scott to the school nurse.

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This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

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Scott Free
 

Chapter 7

“Phil, you old reprobate, I haven’t heard from you since that meeting with the Chamber of Commerce. Shit, that has to have been at least two weeks. What’s up?”

“I need a favor. Did you have an employee by the name of Elaine Adams? Her son is a student of my son’s at Eureka High and her son is trying to locate her. She disappeared about two years ago; left her husband and son.”

“I’ve got the HR manager here. Let me ask him.”

Phil could hear a conversation going on in the background.

“Dr. Esterházy, Larry Foster, we don’t know what happened to Elaine. She’d asked for a transfer to the Willamette Plant. She said she wanted to get her and her kid away from her husband. They were fine with the transfer up there. We sent all her paper work up there. The only thing was she never showed up. We figured she found a better offer somewhere else.

“You say her son’s still here?”

“That’s right, he’s still living with his father,” Phil said. “We probably need to keep quiet about this for now. I’ll let you know if we need any more information.”

“Damn,” Phil said as he turned to Sylvia. They were sitting in his office in the Forestry Department Building. “Persi was probably right. The SOB killed her. She had asked for a job transfer to the Willamette plant. She was going to take Scott with her. Obviously, that never happened.”

“So what do we do?” Sylvia asked.

“We probably need to talk to the Sheriff’s Department. They’re the ones who have jurisdiction in our area; however, we don’t really know where he killed her, if he killed her. I think it’s more important the CPS gets Scott out of there. If his mother is alive, which I seriously doubt, we might eventually find her.

“Let’s tell Joe what we’ve found out. Since he’s the one that needs to keep after CPS. His comments are going to be the most credible.”

Joe was both happy and saddened by what his parents told him. It supported what Persi had expressed and what he’d felt from the moment he met Scott.

“Sheriff’s Office, how may I help you?”

“Mable, Joe Esterházy, is Sheriff John in?

“Yes, let me connect you. Are you trying to collect on your golf bet?

“Thanks for reminding me. Actually, this is a business matter.”

A brief interjection of some horrible on hold music gave Joe a few seconds to think over things.

“Hey Joe, what’s up? You still trying to collect on that bet? I think you should be disqualified on the basis that you’re getting pointers from a Golf Hall of Famer. There’s no way that a six handicapper is going to shoot a sixty-eight.”

“Dammit, John, I’m not a sandbagger. Mike gave me some good pointers, and everything clicked. I may never break seventy again. Look, I have something serious to talk about.”

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“If there was a murder committed up in the Butler Valley area, who would have jurisdiction?”

“We would. Why?”

Joe proceeded to outline the situation as they knew or suspected it to be.

“That’s pretty circumstantial. No one’s filed a missing person report. Jake doesn’t seem to be too concerned.”

“Of course he isn’t. He killed her and dumped her body somewhere. He doesn’t want anyone looking for her.

“The folks at the plywood mill said she was going to the Willamette Plant, and take her son with her. She never showed up, and her son his still here.”

“Joe, you’re going to have to come up with something more concrete before we can do anything. I know it sounds bad, but we need to have more to work on.

“Now, as far as the abuse allegations are concerned, I think you have a legitimate concern. I don’t know why CPS hasn’t contacted you. Let me see if I can stir them up. That’s a state office, but we have to connect with them fairly frequently. We frequently have to serve subpoenas in cases like this one.

“You’re going to have to prove abuse, and that may be difficult. Besides the kids statements made to you in private, what evidence do you have? How can you prove to a competent authority that the kid has been abused?”

“Suppose, we had a reason to take him to a doctor. Suppose I thought he was sick or injured. I could take him to the school nurse. I think Scott understands what we’re trying to do.

“I know, no suspect, he’s been injured. He favors his left hand, and his back hurts him at times. That might be enough.”

“Scott, would you mind if I had the nurse check out your hand? I noticed that you’re favoring it a bit,” Joe asked.

“It’s okay, really.”

“We need to get you away from your father. Did he have anything to do with how it got hurt?”

“Yes, sir,” Scott said hesitantly.

“Would you tell the nurse what happened? Remember, that’s privileged information. They’re not going to tell anyone what happened other than those people who need to know.

“Amy and I have talked about it, and we would love to have you live with us until we can find your mother.”

“He killed her.”

“What?”

“I think he killed her.”

“How do you know?”

“He got mad at me one night.” Scott thought back to that night when his father caught him in his mother’s dress. “He said he should have killed …. He didn’t say anything else. I think he was going to say he should have killed me when he killed my mother. School was in session, so he couldn’t make me disappear. I wasn’t there when he did it. I wanted to believe that she’d gone away, but I know better. I know he killed her.”

It was a simple matter to get Scott in to see the nurse. She came out of the examination room in less than five minutes. “Mr. Esterházy, we need to get him to a doctor right away. This is awful. They’re waiting for you at the ER.”

Five minutes later they were at the emergency room. The doctor took Scott into the consultation room, and five minutes later they were taking him for X-rays.

Twenty minutes later the X-rays were developed. “Joe,” the doctor said, “I’ve got to notify the police and CPS. Under no circumstances is he to be allowed to go back to his home.

“This is off the record, but I feel you have a good idea what’s been going on. His ribs have been broken several times – both sides. The fifth metacarpal of his left had a green stick break. It’s healing okay, but he may need therapy. The worst thing is his back. It’s mostly healed, but he has been whipped, or I should say caned. He may not be permanently scarred, but he’s a mess.

“Do you know why his father did this? There’s no question he did.”

“I have my suspicions, Avery.”

“His father caught him wearing his mother’s clothes. It started two years ago; right after his mother left. It didn’t take much to get him to say what happened, and I think he was relieved to admit it.

“I’ve called CPS, at least I left them a message.”

“Do you think there would be any problem if Amy and I took care of him? We already know we want to.”

“I’m going to call Judge Hardy. He’ll issue a restraining order and can grant temporary custody to you. There shouldn’t be any problem. I’ve done this before.

“Scott is very fond of you and what you’ve done for him. He told me he’d like to stay with you. I certainly don’t have any objections.

“Scott will need quite a bit of counselling. I’m not a psychiatrist; however, I think his issues go beyond cross dressing. Does that bother you?”

“Avery, did you ever read a book called Musetta’s Waltz?”

“Certainly, that’s a requirement in the human sexuality classes.”

“Musetta was my great-grandmother.”

“I had no idea.”

“Read it again, Mom and Dad are mentioned in it, and so am I. My second daughter is named Musetta. We will do everything possible to support Scott. This is something we feel very deeply about.”

An hour later Joe had the temporary custody order in his hand.

Scott had been sitting quietly in the waiting area while Joe had been talking to the doctor. He’d been playing games on his tablet, and had earlier emailed Jimmy and Diane about what had transpired.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the comings and goings.

“Come on Scott, it’s time to take you home,” Joe said.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, you’re coming with me to your new home. You will never have to go to that other place again.”

Scott was silent for a moment; however, he was not able to hold back the tears of joy for long.

Amy and Musetta greeted Scott with warm hugs and took his hands as they brought him into their warm home. They’d already prepared the guest room for him, and earlier in the afternoon, Amy had made a quick trip to the mall to get some underwear, trousers and shirts. She didn’t have any problems with getting his sizes right. Although the shoes would have to wait

Scott was a bit in awe about everything, and it would probably take some time before it began to sink in. For the first time in more than two years he sat down to dinner, and when it was over was not hungry.

Jake Adams received an in-person notice that evening from Child Protective Services that Scott was being placed in temporary protective custody. The sheriff’s deputies who accompanied the CPS personnel had a warrant for Jake’s arrest. Needless to say, Jake was caught completely off guard.

Jake was released the next morning on $100,000 bond. His lawyer posted bail for him, and took him back to the trailer.

“Jake, you’re in deep shit, to put it mildly. We’ll have to look at things, but right now I think your best bet is to cop a plea. You might get away with ten years if you’re lucky.

“Don’t do anything to piss the authorities off, or you’re liable to be back in the slammer so fast your head will spin.”

“Thanks, Marty, I’ll just stay out here until this shit blows over.”

“This shit isn’t going to blow over. This is just the beginning. They’re going to look for your wife and get her to testify. I have a feeling your kid will tell them a lot more about what’s been going on. She’s been gone for only a little over two years. The statute of limitations isn’t even close to running out. Keep your nose clean, and they may not try to bring her in on this.

“No one likes a child abuser, and they are very confident that they have a good case against you. I don’t like child abusers either, but as your lawyer I will make sure you are treated legally and fairly.

“I have to go, but I will be giving you a call.”

Marty Thomas didn’t bother shaking his hand. Jake had called his old lawyer; however, he didn’t take criminal cases. He called Marty Thomas who was trying to make his name as a criminal lawyer. Marty would have his hands full, and there was no way in hell Jake Adams was going to escape this one.

Once inside, Jake went straight to the refrigerator. He lit a cigarette and turned on ‘Judge Jessica’. Twelve beers later he hollered for Scott to get him a beer.

“Goddammit, I said get me a beer.

“Where is that little shit? Fuck, that’s right; he ain’t here. The little faggot wasn’t worth a shit anyway. Good riddance; good riddance to both of you.”

Chapter 8

Getting used to not being abused was easy and difficult. He’d wake up at night shaking in terror, then realize he didn’t smell cigarette smoke. He knew he was safe, but he kept waiting for something to go wrong. It never would.

He’d done enough reading to suspect that his gender identity issues were not that unusual; that he had nothing to be ashamed of. However, how would the Esterházys take when he told them he wasn’t a boy; that he was a girl with ‘plumbing problems’? That was how he’d seen it described in several articles he’d read. The problem became partially resolved much sooner than he’d ever thought it would.

He’d finished his homework shortly after coming home, it was home wasn’t it, and asked Amy if there was anything he could do to help out.

“I think we’re in pretty good shape around here. Why don’t we go down to the barber and get you a haircut?”

The look of terror on Scott’s face was all that Amy needed to see to let her know that was something not to joke about.

“I’m sorry, Scott. That wasn’t very kind of me, at all. Come on,” she said as she led him back to the library where he’d been working on his homework.

“I know you’re old enough,” she said as she handed him a book she’d taken from the top shelf of the bookcase. She had to use the library ladder to reach it.

“Read this. I don’t think it will take you very long. I know you’re a fast reader. We’ll talk about it after dinner or when you finish it.”

Musetta’s Waltz was the title. That’s strange he thought recognizing the name as the same as Esterházys’ daughter. It took only the introduction to ensnare him. It took only the first chapter to make him realize they knew. They knew who he was. They knew his innermost secret, and it was okay.

It was a quiet dinner. It wasn’t the place to discuss the book. He retreated to the library where, after about an hour, he finished it. She had been Joe’s great grandmother. They loved her. It was okay, and now Amy was telling him it was okay. They knew who he was.

Amy and Joe were watching television in the family room and Stephen had been practicing the piano in the parlor. He wasn’t sure where Musetta was, and Annie was already in bed.

“How long have you known? Did the doctor tell you?”

“The doctor didn’t have to tell me,” Joe said. “I knew the first day I met you. That was one reason we were so worried about you. I knew my great grandmother for almost ten years. I knew her story fairly early on. Amy had met her only a couple of times, but she never knew about her until she was pregnant with Michael.

“My older sister is a psychiatrist specializing in gender studies. Her wife is an endocrinologist. They operate a clinic near San Francisco specializing in helping people with gender identity problems.”

“You want me to talk to them? I would like to.”

“You will get plenty of opportunities to talk to them; you’re family. The problem is they’re family. They’re too close to us. We’ll have to find someone else to help us through this. Right now the thing we want to do his help you through this no matter what you want to do, which direction, if any, you need to go. We are here to help you and protect you. We love you,” Amy said with a conviction that let Scott know he had all the support he would ever need.

Later that night he sent an email to Diane. He knew it would be a while before she read it as there was a nine hour time difference. Diane and Jimmy were already aware that he’d moved in with the Esterházys. He hadn’t given them all the details; however, he had gathered that they were more aware of the abuse he’d suffered than he’d thought. He asked Diane who she thought he was. “I’m serious about this,” he said. “Things are happening that I hadn’t expected. I found out tonight that I’m not as an unknown as I thought I was. Who do you (and Jimmy) see when we are together? Don’t worry, you may be totally honest. I need to know.”

The message was waiting for him the next morning. Diane had written it, but Scott had a feeling Jimmy was looking over her shoulder when she did. “We’ve thought for a long time that you were a wonderful, sensitive, horribly abused person. We were so afraid for you. When your mother left you, and we don’t understand why, we were very concerned for you, but we didn’t know what to do. We should have been stronger for you. We will be back in a few weeks. We would like to know what your real name is when we visit you at your new home.”

That was all it took to make up Scott’s mind. There was no looking back, and he knew he had the support he needed. The problem that he wasn’t exactly sure how to get started beyond what he’d already done. The problem was also a legal one. He knew the legal wheels were turning. The Esterházys were his guardians, not his parents. He was certain that he’d never return to his father; however, there was no absolute certainty where he’d be going when this mess got straightened out.

“Goddamn fucking queers,” Jake said as he drove down the dirt road leading to the trailer. “Well, it got exactly what it deserved. I hope I broke its nose. I probably did. There sure as shit was a lot of blood. There ought to be a law against them queers looking like a woman.”

Jake wasn’t that drunk that he couldn’t drive. He’d decided to look elsewhere for the prostitutes as the ones he usually found didn’t seem to be interested in letting him fuck them in spite of the money he waved at them. He’d heard somewhere that there was an interesting place in Arcata. He hadn’t been there in a while. The place was a couple of blocks off the square. It was a bit different than the other places he’d been to in the past. The lighting was subdued, and there weren’t many smokers. The décor was different, too. He couldn’t see a hint of country western, logging or fishing.

A couple of taps for draft beer were at the bar, but most of the clientele were drinking wine or mixed drinks. At least they had Olympia, he thought. There weren’t that many women around, and he was having trouble trying to figure out if any of them were prostitutes. Fortunately, that decision was made for him.

“Hey, big boy, would you buy a girl a drink?”

She was blonde and had big hair. Her low cut top showed an ample cleavage. Her makeup was a bit overdone, but Jake wouldn’t have noticed unless someone had pointed it out to him.

She was drinking margaritas, and as she sipped her second one she suggested that they go elsewhere to continue to party. They settled on a price, and Jake followed her to a small duplex a few blocks away.

“Oh, I like hairy men. You are so masculine.” She started to take off his clothes, complimenting him on his masculinity. He’d already taken off her blouse and bra, and had been fondling her large, hard breasts and small nipples. He was naked when she removed her panties and gaff. He had not been prepared for the semi-erect five-inch penis.

His rage consumed him, and luckily, after knocking her to her the floor with a blow to her face, he couldn’t get dressed fast enough to get out of there. He never realized his wallet was lying on the dresser where he’d put it after paying her a hundred dollars.

She waited until she was sure he was gone before she got up and called the police.

An interesting thing about California is the interesting variety of plant life, wildlife, and geology. The Biology and Geology classes were taking a combined field trip to the Big Lagoon area and Prairie Creek to the north of the county. Much of this area was part of Redwood National Park. Joe’s interest in the area was to show how the coastal currents contributed to the development of the lagoons, and how the lagoons affected the ecology of the area.

They hiked down from the parking area along Highway 101 to the north end of the lagoon. Joe had the class stop at the edge of the drop to the water about twenty feet below. Unlike the thundering surf beyond the gravel spit, the lagoon was smooth and clear.

“Oh, look,” one of the students shouted, “there’s a shark.”

The silhouette of a large fish was easily seen moving deliberately along several feet below the surface. The fish was easily six feet long. “That fish is definitely not a shark,” Joe said. “However, it is a very interesting fish. It is anadromous and we talked about that term in biology. You remember that term? At least the Biology students should. There will be a five point bonus on this week’s exam if you can tell me what that fish is.” Joe knew it was a Green Sturgeon. It was the smaller cousin to the White Sturgeon that could easily grow to twice that length. He’d caught and released them in the past. The one below them that was swimming out of sight probably weighed close to 200 pounds. It would be a good research project for the students.

After a walk down the gravel and sand spit they returned to the bus to head north to Prairie Creek. The highlight of the visit was seeing a herd of about 100 Roosevelt Elk, the largest of the North American elks. The bulls, some probably weighing over a thousand pounds, were in velvet and relatively docile. That would change over the next few months.

From there they took a short walk to see the “Big Tree”. It was over 300’ feet tall and over 21 feet in diameter. While looking at the tree, Joe received a call on his cell phone.

They could see the smoke as they drove down the grade of Butler Valley Road towards the turn off to Jake Adam’s home. The plume increased in intensity as they turned to the north on the dirt track. There was no question that there was a significant fire as they neared the trailer. The sheriff’s deputies called the Kneeland Volunteer Fire Department; however, there wasn’t much they could do other than prevent the spread of the fire to the surrounding area. They succeeding in doing that.

By the time there was only a steaming and smoking rubble, the firemen pushed the front door and frame aside. They found Jake Adam’s body just inside where the door had been. The only place that was not burned was below his body. He’d probably been trying to get out but was overcome by the smoke. There was a patch of unburned carpet that roughly matched the silhouette of his body. A partially filled can of beer was clutched in his hand. He’d fallen on top of it. Forensics would indicate the fire had started in the vicinity of a lounge chair, probably from a dropped cigarette.

The sheriff’s deputies remained until the county coroner took Jake's corpse to the morgue. There was no longer any reason to arrest Jake Adams.

Joe made sure that all the students were picked up or on their way home before he closed the classroom. Scott knew something had happened as soon as Joe had gotten off the phone while they were looking at the “Big Tree”. He wasn’t sure whether it was bad or good.

“Scott,” he said after they got in the car, “your father is dead. He died in a fire that burned up the trailer. There wasn’t anything they could do.

“The deputy sheriffs were going to arrest him for battery. He attacked a prostitute last night in Arcata. The place was on fire when they got there.”

Scott barely reacted. “I think that’s good. I think he got off easy, though.

“It’s over, isn’t it? Do you think that you and Amy could adopt me? I would very much like to be able to call you Mom and Dad.”

A major source of problems in Scott’s life is gone; however, there is still the question of what happened to his mother. Of course, we really know. We just need some closure. Then, there is the rest of Scott’s life to think about.

Introduction: The year is 2076, not that is extremely important. The story takes place at the same time as Five Love Stories en Brochette; much of it at the same time as the last chapter of that story. It has been almost six years since that story was published here. In that story, Scott Adams is briefly mentioned in a couple of sentences near the beginning, and once again in the epilogue. Wren Phoenix thought it might be nice to know a bit more about Scotty Adams. I’m sorry, Wren, that it took so damn long to get around to it.

Jake Adams is dead, and he won’t be missed by anyone. This tale is not over by a long shot. Finally, Scott is free to be who she really is. It isn’t quite that easy. There are many loose ends that must be tied up and hurdles that must be cleared before that can start. What happened to her mother?

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This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

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Scott Free
 

Chapter 9

“Joe, we found her car,” Sheriff John Williams said. He’d called the Esterházys early Saturday morning.

“And, whose car might that be,” Joe said fully aware of what car John was talking about.

“If we’d had cause, if someone had reported her missing, we might have found the car right away. Someone had pushed it off the edge of the cleared area where that old logging camp had been. She wasn’t in it. Someone pulled a lot of brush over it so it was difficult to spot it from the air. They’re pulling it up the hill right now. It looks like it’s still drivable.”

“Think he killed her?”

“Sure looks that way. He probably buried her somewhere around here. They’re bringing up a cadaver dog. It should be up here in an hour.”

“Did they find her?”

Joe turned to find Scott standing there. He’d obviously been listening in on the conversation.

“No, they did find her car. He pushed it off the edge back at the old logging camp. I’m sorry, Scott, it doesn’t look good.”

“I think I’ve known that ever since that day he caught me in Mom’s dress. There were times I wished he killed me.”

“Scott!” Amy said as she walked in on the conversation.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill myself. My friends gave me strength to hold on. You have given me strength to go forward. I am so happy we found each other.

“Did Aunt Persi find someone I can talk to?”

“Yes, she did. That’s what I was coming down to tell you. She found someone down in Ferndale. She talked to her last night. I’ll call her Monday for an appointment. Persi said she’d met her at a seminar a few years ago. She and Clara thought the world of her.

“Mom called a while ago. She said that Karen and Pat are thicker than thieves. Karen surprised the hell out of him showing up like she did. Mom can read between the lines. Things are going very well,” Amy said in a knowing tone that wasn’t missed by Scott.

Although he’d heard a lot about the family, he’d only met Joe’s mother. That was stopping later that day as they were going the place he’d heard so much about over the years: The Ranch. There was the thought that they’d be passing his old home; however, that was no longer a problem. He had no reason to be afraid.

“Let’s start the dog around the area of the car, though I can’t imagine he’d have buried her around here. This is the only open area for a half mile in any direction. I can’t imagine he’d gone very far into that second growth, either. That stuff’s so thick a snake would have trouble getting through some of it.”

They worked the entire area of the old camp, and the dog didn’t alert on a thing. They decided to look for any openings off the road where he might have been able to hide her body - still nothing. There were some cleared areas to the rear of the ruins of the trailer. The dog alerted immediately. They marked the spot. Then the dog alerted in the second cleared area. They staked that spot also. A cleared path led straight back towards the trailer. When the dog alerted at the third cleared spot, the deputy exclaimed, “What the fuck, boss, do we have a serial killer. How many bodies do you think there are?”

“Just one, just one,” he said looking up the cleared path between the trees. “Call the coroner and a septic tank company. She’s up there.”

They stood at the fourth spot the dog alerted on. They could look down three relatively straight lines to where the dog had alerted originally.

“I’ll be Goddamned, he dumped her in the septic tank.” the deputy muttered.

It was an easy matter to get the septic tank maintenance people to pump out the tank. They had a screen to catch any large solids such as bones. When they were through, the coroner had a pretty much complete skeleton. They brought out a tank truck to wash the tank out. They didn’t want to miss a thing as they did not have a cause of death. They weren’t absolutely sure to whom the remains belonged; however, forensics already knew the remains were female. That was easy to determine from the skull and pelvis structures.

“Let’s see if that screen caught anything,” Dr. Mendez said. It had been no easy task up to this point. A man in a dry-suit and self-contained breathing apparatus had been passing up the bones as they were revealed. A helper was holding on to a life line in case the man in the tank ran into any problems. The atmosphere in the tank could be anoxic and toxic.

They stood around as the septic tank man removed the suction hose and exposed the screen.

A partial plate, a few phalanges and a U-shaped bone were trapped against the screen. The plate and small bones were placed in an evidence bag as was the U-shaped bone after the medical examiner looked at it. “I think we got just about everything. We might be missing a couple of phalanges, but they’re not critical. At least we know how he killed her.”

“How’s that?” the deputy asked.

“That last bone was the clue,” the sheriff said. “That was the hyoid bone. It was broken. The son-of-a-bitch strangled her.”

Sylvia greeted Scott with a hug and a kiss before Musetta led him out to the back yard to pick berries. “Watch out for the poison oak. I found some in the garden last week.

“You’re a girl, aren’t you? I was pretty sure when I saw you last week. Why are you called Scott?”

“That’s the name my mother gave me.”

“That’s a strange name to give a girl.”

“She didn’t know I was a girl when I was born. I’ve known for a while, though.

“So, you’re like my great, great Gramma Musetta.”

“I hope so.”

“What would you like your name to be?”

“Margaret Elaine. Elaine was my mother’s name.”

“That’s nice.”

The next few weeks were filled with many surprises, and many legal issues. Scott finally was able to meet Joe’s little brother and the woman he was going to marry. He met his Aunt Persi, short for Persephone, and her wife Clara. A major surprise for everyone had been that Clara and Karen were sisters. Karen had been kidnapped when their family lived in Ukraine. Everyone had remarked how much they resembled each other; however, it took Clara’s determination to find out the truth.

Scott would meet his other aunts and uncles to be over the next few weeks and months. He met many other people over those next few weeks, too. His mother had taken out a life insurance policy on herself and Jake. Jake had never been aware of it. Elaine’s policy had been paid through the month when she’d been murdered. The insurance company complained, but decided discretion was the better part of valor. They paid. Jake’s premium had been taken out of his monthly disability payments; again something he hadn’t been aware of. Scott received $200,000 plus interest on the two policies. Of course, he inherited the 500 plus acres of land.

They buried his mother’s remains next to the grandparents he’d never met. Sheriff John gave him the ring his mother had worn. It had been her mother’s ring. She never wore a wedding ring. He didn’t ask, and no one told him what happened to his father’s remains.

The counselor Persi had suggested turned out to be a wonderful, compassionate, no nonsense professional. It didn’t take long for her to determine that Scott was transgender. Of course the legal issues raised their heads. Scott was still a ward of the state. The Esterházys petitioned the state to allow them to adopt Scott. They provided all the medical evidence and testimonies from the doctors. They sought a second opinion; however, the state provided their psychologist. His opinion matched that by Scott’s counselor. The state realized that having someone wanting to adopt a child with gender issues was a good thing. They wouldn’t have to worry finding a home for the child. They knew the Esterházys would be good parents. The adoption was finalized two days later. The judge had done one other thing. Scott Adams ceased to exist. She was now Margaret Elaine Esterházy.

From the Judge’s chambers they went to the doctor where she received an implant of blockers in her arm and another of slow release estrogen in her buttocks.

Joe and Amy suggested she drop out of school, but she didn’t want to; however, she realized that with so much going on in her life, it might be the best idea. Besides, she had more than $200,000 in trust for her college education.

Several in her classes were aware that there were some serious situations going on. Some even knew she had been hitch hiking to school. Suddenly, she was living with Mr. Joe and his family. Then the news of her father’s death hit the TV channels. Along with that came the child abuse allegations all capped by the discovery of her mother’s remains in the septic tank.

She had been the only freshman in her classes. The remainder of the students were sophomores, juniors and seniors. They had been polite to her. There had been no time for anything other than classwork in the accelerated environment. Perhaps Mr. Joe’s reputation as being a tough, no nonsense, but fair instructor kept the problem students away. Margaret felt that this was the time to test the waters. The best defense is a good offense.

She talked to her father and mother about the best way to out herself to the students of the school she’d be going to for the next four years. She wrote an outline of what she wanted to tell them. If that went over well, she’d do the same thing at the real beginning of school that September. That was still more than a month away.

“I have several things to tell you,” she said as she stood before the class. “First of all, I want to thank you for being as good to me as you have been. This has been an interesting and, surprisingly, a not too difficult time for me; at least compared to what I went through previously. We discovered my mother was murdered by my father more than two years ago, my father was killed in a house fire (that was no secret), I’ve been adopted by Mr. Joe and his wife (there were several gasps of surprise at this revelation), and I’m no longer Scott Adams. I am now officially Margaret Elaine Esterházy. It seems I was born in the wrong body. Well, we’re taking care of that last problem as we speak. When I see you this fall, I’ll just be Margie, I kinda like that name.

“I’ll be glad to answer any questions you have, up to a point. Mom is taking me to the beauty parlor in a little while to get some things done that I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

“Sandy?”

“Sco … er, Margie, I think we’ve known for quite a while what’s been going on, at least to a point. Diane Wilkes is a close friend, and she asked me to keep watch on you. We go to the same church. I think I can speak for all of us. We wish you the best, and Diane says she can’t wait to give you makeup lessons.”

There were a few more questions; most of which Margie expected:

“Do you like boys or girls?”

“I haven’t really given that much thought. I have much more important things on my mind right now.”

“Are you going to have the operation?”

“That’s a bit personal; however, as you’re a girl, how would you feel if you woke up looking like a boy. Wouldn’t you want to fix that?”

“Do you want to be a cheer leader?” That was from one of the jocks in the class.

“Have you been reading some of the same stuff I read? There are about 700 girls at Eureka High. Do you think they all want to be cheerleaders, or go to ballet school, or date the quarterback? I don’t think so. I think I want to be a naturalist or meteorologist, but I have a long time to think about it.”

Chapter 10

“Mary, this is our new daughter, Margie. She’s a bit apprehensive about what we’ve arranged, but I told her you would be gentle.

“Most important, do not overdo it. She is just 14.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Esterházy, we’ll just make sure she fits in when school starts.”

The next few hours fulfilled just about every fantasy Margie may have had over the last four or five years. Her dark brown hair was trimmed and given a light perm. Her eyebrows were lightly sculpted, just lightly, not too much. Her makeup was understated as it should have been. They cleaned up her finger nails just a bit. She was far too young to go much beyond that.

Things had been going fast, very fast, since she dropped out of summer school, and it was really for the best. The results of the trip to the emergency room mandated a complete physical. She was probably in the fifteenth percentile in her age group for height and weight. Where most boys would probably been entering puberty, hers had been delayed. In a way that favored her physical transformation to female. She was four feet, eleven inches tall and weighed eighty-five pounds. She’d probably weighed less just weeks before. There were hopes that because her male growth spurt had been held back that the infusion of blockers and female hormones would allow her skeletal development shift more to the female. It had worked in other transgender male to female her age; however, many of those had started blockers at around age eleven. It was important, but she’d be happy with what ever happened as long as she could be female.

The trip to the dentist had been something else.

“So, when was your last trip to the dentist, young lady?”

“I’ve never been to the dentist before.”

“I’m surprised. Your teeth seem to be in good shape. We’ll get some x-rays and then get your teeth cleaned. Then we’ll see where we have to go from there.”

There was some good news and some bad news. Margaret’s mother (Elaine Adams) had taught her how to take care of her teeth at an early age. She brushed twice in the morning, before and after breakfast, and after dinner, and she flossed after dinner. She did not have any cavities. The bad news was that all four wisdom teeth would have to come out. Three of them were impacted, and the fourth would have to come out as it had nothing to work against. She would also need orthodontic work, but that could wait a little while.

The teeth came out two weeks before school started. It was done under general anesthesia. She was out before she knew it, and the next thing she knew she was in recovery with a mouth full of bloody gauze. She was feeling no pain, and was quite loopy. It was soup that night and soft food for a couple of days, and ice cream, lots of ice cream.

Michael and Frances were home from their summer adventures, and greeted their new sister with great warmth. Michael was tall, but not nearly as tall as his father. Frances was considerably taller than her mother and had inherited her bust line characteristics. Margie was secretly envious – maybe not so secret.

Michael and some friends had decided to rent a house in Arcata; so, that allowed Margie to move into that room permanently. Michael had broken up with his now ex-girlfriend. They had met as freshmen, and the attraction was immediate. Edna insisted that if they were going to go together he would have to start going to church with her. The Esterházys did not attend church, and no one made a big deal out of it. Michael thought he would give it a try, and even went as far as to go with her church group on a pilgrimage of sorts to Europe and the Middle East. Mike balked at the ceremonial baptism in the River Jordan. He realized how much of a hypocritical act that would be. He found the tenets of the religion to be unacceptable and totally unrealistic. At his refusal to go through with the ceremony he was shunned by the rest of the group. He saw no reason to hang around. He paid the penalty to change his flight, it was substantial, and flew home four days before the rest of the group did. He and his ex-girlfriend never spoke to each other again.

Frances, on the other hand, did not have a significant other. That is until she met Robert Heckman. Robert was a post-graduate student from the Colorado School of Mines. To say the sparks flew was an understatement. The only things in Yellowstone that were hotter than their romance were the geysers and hot springs in the area. Frances hadn’t quite figured out how to tell her parents, but she was going to transfer to Colorado the following fall. She’d thought about doing her graduate studies there, and now she was going to get her BS and M(R)S there as well. She’d have to think of something because she’d invited Bob to come to Eureka to meet her parents over Thanksgiving.

Michael and Frances had been in on what had been happening to Margie almost from the beginning. They’d both wanted to be there for the adoption ceremony, but it just wasn’t possible. Frances did give Margie a ‘birthday’ present of a makeup kit.

The hormones started taking affect rather rapidly. Part of it was that it was just the right time. She was getting the proper nutrition for the first time in more than two years. She realized she was getting a bit moody, and it embarrassed her. She had managed to keep her emotions hidden for a long time, and now they were out there all over the place. Her brothers and father were told to give her a bit of leeway, and the girls soothed her with chocolate.

The doctors wanted to keep close track of her development partly because of what she’d gone through over the last two plus years, also because they wanted to make sure everything was going the right way. They took measurements right away, and put her mark at four foot eleven inches on the ‘measuring door’ right there with her brother and sisters’ marks. She’d grown an inch in just six weeks! Her nipples and areola started changing at the same time. Her mother was helping her with her hair one evening when she accidently bumped Margie’s chest with her elbow.

“Ouch!”

“Oh, something’s happening, isn’t it?”

“Yes, they’re getting sore and kinda hot. I think they’re supposed to do that from what you and the doctor said.” She had also read the same on several websites she’d visited over the years. There was one major difference now. It was finally happening to her.

“Let’s take a look.”

Margie took off the camisole she’d been wearing followed by the training bra that she had been happily wearing since the first week in her new home.

“Well, look at that, you are becoming a young woman at last. I am so happy for you. We will definitely have to keep track of your measurements.”

As pleased as Margie was with her developments, her close friends were just as happy. Diane Wilkes visited Margie a couple of weeks after she’d had her first makeover. Margie had kept her apprised from the beginning on what was going on; however, that didn’t prepare Diane for their actual meeting.

Margie was wearing the dress she would be wearing on the first day of school. As far as she was concerned, she looked perfect. Her mother agreed.

Margie opened the door when Diane and her mother arrived.

“Hi, I’m Diane Wilkes, and this is my mother. We’re here to see Margie Esterházy.”

“Hi, Diane.”

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”

“Hi, Mrs. Wilkes. Please come in. Mom’s made some tea, and we have some cookies.

“Oh my God, Jimmy’s going to shit when he sees you.” She flung her arms around her friend she hadn’t seen in nearly three months.

“Diane! Watch your language,” her mother exclaimed.

“Careful, Diane, the girls are a bit tender right now.”

“Hi, I’m Amy Esterházy. I’m Margie’s mother.”

“Amy, I’m Alice, please.”

“Diane has told me quite a bit about Margie. I don’t think either of us was prepared for this pretty young lady. What a surprise.”

“Let’s have some tea. I’m sure there’s quite a bit to talk about.”

After a while, the two younger girls went to Margie’s bedroom to talk about things that most high school freshmen talked about.

“Who is that?” Diane said looking at a framed portrait on Margie’s dresser.

“That was my mother. Daddy was able to get it from the place where she worked. It was in her personnel folder. He had a professional work on it a bit, and they surprised me with it a while ago. That’s the only thing I have to remember her by along with this ring. The ring belonged to my grandmother. It was the only piece of jewelry that mom wore.”

“I couldn’t believe it when you said he killed her. But then, I had to. He was so awful to you. It just tore Jimmy and me up to see what he did to you,” Diane started to sniffle.

“I don’t think we need to worry about that anymore,” Margie said. “All of that is over.

“If it had been my father who’d died, I think my mother might have helped me to get to where I am now. It would have been difficult, but there was an insurance policy that I didn’t know about. It would have paid for a lot. I don’t know. Life is so fucking unfair, sometimes.”

“Margie, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say anything like that!”

“My mother never hurt anyone. All she wanted was for me to have a life that she never had. She wanted me to be able to go to college, to get an education. She was going to take me to Portland with her. It was all arranged. I guess she told father, and the son-of-a-bitch strangled her and dumped her in the septic tank. She didn’t deserve that. No one did.”

At that point Margie broke down in tears.

Diane comforted her as best she could. She finally wiped her eyes with a tissue from a box that was on the dresser.

“Margie, we need to fix your makeup. Look at me. I need to tell you something.

“I think I fell in love with Margie two years ago. I know. I was only twelve. Jimmy and I both knew you were Margie even though we didn’t know your name at the time. We kept hoping, hope above hope, that something would work out for you.”

“You and Jimmy knew?”

“Yes. You see, we were also learning about ourselves at the same time.”

“You and Jimmy? You were doing it?”

“Of course not, silly. Jimmy and I are great friends. I imagine we always will be. The thing is Jimmy is gay. And me, I’m a lesbian. Sometimes we have to keep these things hidden. I’m out to Mom. She’s okay with it. She wants grandchildren, and fortunately, I have a brother and sister who are straight. That’s not to say that you and I won’t adopt some children one of these days.

“Alice, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Two of my sisters-in-law were bisexual as they grew up, or at least they experimented. One determined that she was far more into men, and is happily married and a mother. She is a world famous opera singer. I think you know who she is. Her reputation is out there. Her older sister found her perfect companion who happened to be a lovely woman. They both maintain that their perfect partners could have been men; however, they suddenly realized that they were perfect for each other. They are both doctors and they have two children with another on the way.

“Our family has had a great deal of experience with gender variant children and adults. We’ve come to realize that this is just part of the various human spectra. If another ‘Margie’ showed up at our door tomorrow we’d welcome him or her with open arms.

“We’ve made some great advances over the years in helping the transgender; however, there are some things about human behavior that cannot be legislated. It will take generations to unlearn what so many social organizations formal and informal continue to perpetuate. Here we are, it’s 2076, our country is 300 years old, and Margie nearly gets beaten to death by her bigoted father because she put on a dress worn by her murdered mother. We will do everything possible to protect the LGBTQ.

“We have quite a legacy in this family. Are you familiar with General Angie Bilitnikov?”

“Certainly, she created quite a stir when she caused that asshole’s administration to collapse. Do you know her?”

“Her daughter, who was transgender, married Joe’s second cousin. I’ll have to give you a bottle of their pinot noir. It is superb. I don’t drink much, especially since I’m pregnant, but I’ll have a taste now and then. We see them often. George is a general practitioner, and Julie is a voice teacher. She is also teaching Italian. They have adopted four children. They live in Santa Rosa.

“I’m probably going at this the wrong way. Joe’s great-grandmother was Musetta Gigliotti O’Donnell. Our daughter is named after her. She had been transgender. She became quite wealthy in later life and promised that if she could do anything about it, no child would have to go through what she did. She paid for most of Angie’s surgery. Angie, her husband, and Joe’s uncle were in the Air Force together. Angie and Matt received the Medal of Honor back when we were quite young. Angie and Fred adopted three children from an orphanage in Italy, and their second and oldest lived a life similar to Margie’s, eerily like it, now that I think about it.

“Musetta’s largesse will allow, when the time comes, for Margie to have her gender confirmation surgery, if she wants it. We don’t think there is any doubt in her mind that she will have it. We wouldn’t be where we are today, if we didn’t think that.”

Margie had her gender confirmation surgery during the summer between her high school graduation and her freshman year at Humboldt State. Diane was at her bedside almost 24/7. What might have been an infatuation at first on the part of Diane turned into a genuine love between the two as the years progressed. Margie’s development progressed very well. Her medical regimen had successfully halted any male traits from developing, and her figure became quite feminine. Her skeletal features were definitely female. Her waist remained narrow, and her hips broadened nicely. She naturally grew into a B+ cup which was perfect for her slender figure. She had a major growth spurt in her fifteenth and sixteenth years, and she was suddenly looking down at her mother. She stopped growing at just under five foot six inches. Her best feature was her hair. She would never be called beautiful; however, her smile was.

She graduated from Humboldt State cum laude with a degree in oceanography. Diane graduated with a degree in psychology. They married that summer. They moved to Palo Alto where Margie, after much work received her MS in Meteorology from Stanford University. Diane received her Master’s in Psychology. They briefly moved back to Eureka where Margie started work at the local ABC affiliate as a broadcast meteorologist. Her outgoing, friendly personality was a winner from the beginning. After two years, she was back in San Francisco as the Chief Meteorologist for the ABC affiliate. Diane became a counselor at Persi and Carol’s clinic. She also gave birth to their first child; a little boy. Life was very, very good.

One other thing, Margie donated the 500 acres to Humboldt State with the stipulation it could never be logged. The land was to be allowed to revert to its natural state with as little interference as possible. It was to be a place of quiet, peaceful study. It was known henceforth as the Elaine Adams Memorial Forest.

I think this needed to be written. It adds some closure to the California Saga. Hopefully, you enjoyed the tale.