Chapter 1 – Becoming Best Friends

Doug and I were close in age, but not in brains. It was the Spring of ’95 when Doug Ryland and his parent’s moved in across the street. I was eight and a quarter and he was soon to turn eleven. I was in third grade and he was in eighth-grade. By all accounts, he was likely to be a sophomore by the end of the year if he wanted. I acted like the kid I was and Doug could act like a forty year adult one minute and a kid the next as he pleased. Mind you, I wasn’t a dummy either by any stretch of the imagination. I was an IQ point below being able to join Mensa. I was a straight A student when I put my mind to it. And I put my mind to it most of the time except when I got depressed about who I really was. But, once Doug moved in, there was no doubt I was outclassed in brains. However, I soon came to appreciate that Doug’s brains weren’t half as smart and intelligent as his enormous heart for others and, in particular, for his best friend, who happens to be me.

The first day I first met Doug, when they were first moving in, I saw how he carried himself around adults -- I guess there is no other way to say it -- I instantly knew Doug was a genius and it made me feel like a total idiot. Chatting with his parents, I found out his IQ was in the 190s. They were delighted to find a boy about his age living across the street. Yet, that same day, I found Doug could be a kid too, and if that was what we had in common, then I could work with that.

During the school week, I had difficult homework being in the gifted and talented group of students. Doug always finished his homework first and came over to my place and patiently waited until I finished. He sat there with a serene look on his face looking out our living room window. He didn’t offer to help, but, by his demeanor, I knew he would. Slowly, I learned to ask him to explain to me the stuff I didn’t get. I don’t know if it was his patience or my need to finish faster and go play with him that first drove me to ask him for help. But once I did start asking for help, he would offer a suggestion about how to look at it without giving the answer. Suddenly, it would click. After homework, it was easy to see why we made such good friends. Neither Doug or I were into sports. We played war games or read books or watched television. Sometimes, we went swimming or fishing nearby. Most times, we just went outside and were kids. Doug became my very agreeable shadow. Where he was, I was. Where I was, he was.

On occasion, we would talk about school and how hard it was to fit in. I was on the small side anyway and the runt of the boys which made me the most likely the first player to be picked on rather than chosen. If I got any kicks in being in sports, it was very likely you would find me being used as a soccer ball. It didn’t help that I was the very youngest in the class. I usually played with the girls. I knew that Doug couldn’t play with his classmates because they were so much older than him and bigger in size too. If it weren’t for his high IQ, he would be in fourth grade and a normal sized boy among his peers. So, in no time it seems, we became the best and closest of friends.

I got to know Doug so quickly in fact that it felt like I knew him my whole life. Nothing seemed out of bounds, except my dark secret. And even there Doug got to know me better than I know myself. The real me.

While Doug is an only child with doctors for parents who are going to win the Nobel prize one day for their pioneering work in cancer research, I am the youngest of three children and fairly ordinary parents. I have brown eyes and mousy brown hair. I have nice eyebrows and an oval face. My mother and father named me Samuel Coleridge Miller. My mother was an English major at university, hence my name. My sister’s full name is Jane Austin Miller. Sense a pattern? My oldest brother was named totally by my dad though. Robert Steve Miller. Robert after his dad. And Steve after some superhero dude on a television series in the 70s. Steve Austin, I think. I heard my Dad say he was bioptic or something, which makes no sense at all to me since Robert has perfect vision. My Mom does occasional substitute teaching in the school district these days, but until recently taught full time. It has meant she can stay home, but be gone on occasion leaving Jane and me alone after school. My Dad is a civil engineer. He works for the city filling pot holes with asphalt most days and pouring cow manure into what he calls ‘political holes’ once a month at city council meetings.

My sister Jane is in the same eighth-grade English class as Doug in middle school. She doesn’t like being around Doug, so once we became fast friends, Jane started to go over to her friends on any day he came over leaving Doug and me alone in the house until my mother showed up. Jane is fourteen and really filling out. I hated the boys knocking on the door trying to see Robert who really wanted to ogle Jane. I am glad Robert put a stop to it. But Mom made him do it. Robert didn’t care if Jane was seen as a piece of meat. Jerk!

My older brother Robert is in ninth grade. He is fourteen too and Dad says he is growing like a weed. He is ten months older than Jane. My dad is sure Robert is going to be almost six feet tall when he is done growing. Robert loves football and baseball. He plays half back and short stop. Which is a good thing because he excels in both and leaves me alone instead of using me as a football or a baseball. He hangs out in the gym after school every day training for whatever sport he is playing at the time or with his jock friends. He hardly is home. The only thing Robert hates, other than me, is school. He does barely enough school to stay in sports.

I usually see my siblings in the morning before school and at dinner. I am the homebody. So, Doug has really changed my life for the better. And the best gift of his being my friend was that we would become more than best friends. Our relationship deepened over the next few years by what unfolded next which exposed to me Doug’s hidden asset, his huge empathic heart. An asset which I would come to discover that was truly infectious and healed so many hearts as it beat a path into my soul and healed my wounds.

One Saturday, almost two months after Doug moved in, while setting up a war game to replay the battle of Midway at my house, Doug off handily said, “You pretend to be crazy. I really am crazy!” I looked at him and said incredulously, “You think so, huh? Let me show you something. Please set up the game. I will be right back.”

I knew we were going to be alone for the whole day. So I thought I would share with him my deepest and darkest secret to prove that I really was crazy. While Doug set up the battle boards, I went up to my room, opened my secret stash, got dressed, and came back downstairs.

Holding my breath, and grasping at straws for the courage to follow through and prove I was crazy I found at least a straw to do what I needed to do. I entered the room as Samantha dressed in my sister’s old clothes. I wore a simple dress of hers I really liked and her old shoes and socks because it was quick to get into and I didn’t want to lose the moment. Doug looked up calmly at me, much to my surprise, and said nothing. In the quiet of the room, I found the courage to say the truth, “Hi Doug. I am Samantha. I am crazy. I want to be a girl. I am a girl and I am afraid to tell my parents.”

I don’t know why, but hearing those words spoken out loud for the first time to another human being, was both a relief and a nightmare. My mind went with relief while my body went with it being a total nightmare. It began to sob in pain and fall apart. This eight-year-old kid had just opened up to someone telling them who she really was. And it was to someone who was still a stranger. How could I tell a stranger that I really was a girl on the inside and not my own family? But I did. I smoothed my dress underneath me as I sat down on the couch, hung my head down, and bawled my eyes out letting out years of pain because of holding onto my dark secret and personal hell back from a world I was afraid to share it with.

Doug came over to me, sat down next to me, and said, “It’s good to cry. Let it out. It’s going to be okay. Tell me when you are ready to talk. This is a safe place for you.” For the next twenty minutes it felt like, I was a heap of blubbering flesh.” I finally was spent enough that Doug began to speak to me firmly and quietly. “I know Sam. I know you are a girl. I saw you in your room with my binoculars from my window getting dressed in your sister’s clothes when I first moved in. I figured it out. I want to help you. I thought if I said something about my being crazy, I could get you to tell me. I am so glad you did and felt safe enough to share your secret with me. It is an honor that you can trust me enough to know your most important secret. I promise to keep your secret without you even having to ask. I want to help my friend.”

He kept gently stroking my back to comfort me. His words soothed my soul. I was such a mess that I didn’t even notice until that moment that he started stroking my back when he sat down next to me.

I looked up at him and smiled briefly through my tears. Did I hear him right, I thought? I considered his words. He didn’t run to my parents or his. He took the time to find out about me. He didn’t judge me. Then I said, “If you mean what you say, what do I do, Doug? I don’t want to go through puberty. I don’t want to grow big. I want to be a woman when I grow up, not this! I want to be a girl right now. I see my brother and he is huge. And I don’t want to tell my parents because they will try to fix me instead of helping me. I don’t want to be a boy anymore. So how can you help me when you are just a kid too?”

Doug said confidently, “I can help you and I will. I figured out what your condition might be after watching you and researched it already at the university where my parent’s work. I have read up on the latest medical protocols and I think I can follow them as if you were going to a real doctor and getting real help. I even have some new techniques that will really help you with puberty.”

His parents’ cancer research was attached to the university. Because of that, Doug was serious when he said he had access to medical research. And I knew he was knowledgeable about medicine. So, I could believe that he already had learned a bunch of things about my condition and knew how to treat it. Doug gave me hope when he said, “So, I have a plan for you to either become a girl or be a healed boy. It is up to you, not me, what you become. Your journey is your own. But I can be a part of your journey and guide you as your friend so you won’t be alone.”

I continued to cry, but now silently. The years of pain still were driving those tears and I couldn’t shut them off. “You do? You already have a plan for me?” Hell, I didn’t even have a plan for who I wanted to be when I grow up. I was leaning to being a bum on the street corner asking for donations. Seems to be a lot of job satisfaction there and you make your own hours. And my life was every bit an insane wreck in my eyes as a bum’s might be.

“Yes, I do!” Doug got up and walked over to our wall of family photos. He pulled down a dual photo frame of my grandfather taken at about the age of nine on the left side and a current picture of me on the right side of the frame taken at my eighth birthday. We looked nearly identical.

Doug came back and sat down next to me and said, “Sam, we are going to use this photo to hide from your parents your journey to womanhood until it is too late for them to say no. And if I do it right, when you do become a woman, they will accept you and love you like you were always their daughter. And if you stay their son, they will accept you as you are too.”

The shock on my face said it all. The slow smile it grew into as it occurred to me that he was serious and could do what he said. My acceptance of that allowed him to continue. By now, my tears were down to a trickle.

“Samantha, didn’t you tell me that your grandfather was about five foot five?” He called me by my chosen girl name!

“Yeah. I miss him too. He used to be here when I got home from school and my Mom was teaching full time. He missed my grandma who died of lung cancer from smoking too much. She died when I was three. He was the coolest grandpa in the whole world.” The tears returned having found another reservoir of pain and I sobbed fiercely for a couple of minutes as I grieved his passing. After I regained my composer, I said, “When Grandpa died last year because a drunk driver hit him in a crosswalk, it was like my life was over. Then one day, you moved in and I felt human again.”

Doug reached over and held me with his arm. “Thank you for the complement. But you have always been human.” He went on to say, “I am sorry about your grandparents.” Doug had a gentle voice that would one day make an excellent bedside tool while still showing a doctor’s fixation to stay on the crucial subject at hand. “I think I can retard your growth to fit your grandfather’s growth pattern. It will seem to your parents and your doctor if he is called in to diagnose the reasons for your lack of growth that you are his grandson in every respect. Even if you don’t transition to being a woman, no one will question your small stature.”

Doug continued by pulling back his arm, turning his body towards mine, putting his hand gently under my chin and bringing our faces aligned to each other so we were face to face and he said, “But for it to work, I have to do it right. I have to follow the medical protocol that I have found in order to verify you really are a girl in a boy’s body. To do that, I will have things for you to do and you will have to do them or I can’t help you. I am also going to do it in a way that if you are found out, I won’t be tied to your choices, but it will allow you to get professional help instead of your parents stopping you. But I wouldn’t worry about that even. What I need to ask you is this. Do you trust me?” He leaned back to wait for my answer.

Drying the tears on my face, I nodded yes. My inner coward said to my brain, “Do I have a choice?” The last hour seemed unreal and I was beginning to think it was a dream where I would wake up to find I was still in my awful nightmare of a body all alone.

“Okay, every time we are alone, you are to dress as a girl. You are to act as a girl. Even your hissy fits have to be like a girl. You will have to have clothes over at my place for those times you come over to my place and we are alone there. By the way, I think that false compartment in your closet is very clever and well done. If I hadn’t seen you dressed as a girl, I would have never known to look for it. I don’t think you mother will ever find it. But, I plan on making a few improvements so I can make sure that never happens.” I could see then and there that he really had thought this through.

Doug added, “There will also come a time where you have to show me that you can be a girl in public too. And, believe it or not, even with your parents. As for right now, at the end of today, when you transform back into a boy, I want you to come back with me for a sleep over, okay?”

I had stopped crying by this point and could feel the excitement building in me. In the future, ‘sleep over’ would come to mean ‘counselling session.’ “Yes, thank you Doug. But why are you doing this? You hardly know me.” I was lying to myself, not to him. He knew me.

“Because Sam, you are my friend. Without you, I would be lonely and forgotten up until I grow up too. You have saved me already from the pain of having parents who care more about their research than taking care of their son. But you have a special need that comes first. And, I have skills that can help my good friend. All that I ask is that you let me do this for you. It is a win win.”

I thought about what he said and realized I had nothing to lose. “Deal!” I said. I put out my hand to shake his. Doug, looked at me sternly. Then, realizing I was missing something about how serious he was that I be a girl around him when alone, I reached around him with both my arms and hugged him instead. “Deal!” he said.

“There, that’s better. I am glad you did that. A hug is a very girl thing to do.” Doug said confidently, adding, “Besides, I only shake hands with proper boys.” I giggled realizing he accepted me for who I was. I was giddy for the rest of the day and lost the battle of Midway. I was also Samantha for most of the day and loved it. But, I didn’t care. Doug was my savior and my friend. Finally, I had someone who could share my burden.

And that is how my journey to womanhood began.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner (revised March 2017)

[Author’s note: I won’t go into to the details of how I happened on this site. My wife introduced me to fan fiction. I was fishing about looking for sites with romantic story lines. Tripped on this place. Found some stories were well written, some poorly written. Some made me cry they were so beautifully written. That is what I was looking for in a well written story.

Thirty plus years ago, I had such a horrible experience in college in a creative writing class on my way to get my English Lit. degree. I swore I would never try writing again. This site reminded me of stories from my youth. So, I wondered … Should I have quit?

Clearly, I have fallen off the wagon. In that regard, I decided to test my wings and see what would come out of me. AuP (my secret hash code) Reviner (to come back) ]

Chapter 2 – Beginning with the end in mind

I had a nice sleep over at Doug’s. When we prepped for bed that night after my grand reveal, Doug had me wear one of my sister’s night time plain over sized t-shirts and a pair of panties from the stash area he had already created in his house. Before we went to sleep, he handed me a Rick Wakeman poster to look at and said I was to put it up in my room after I ask to take guitar lessons at our school’s after school program, which was once a week. He also handed me some CDs with Rick Wakeman’s music so I could start listening to him. He played me a sample, and yes, (pun intended), Rick is a very good musician. I was also to ask my Mom if I could volunteer at the nursing home next to our neighborhood because I heard they encouraged kids to come over and spend time with the elderly patients.”

Doug said, “This will do two things. One, as a Rick Wakeman fan, you can grow your hair long as long as you want and your parents will think you are trying only to be like him and not think girl. Two, you will be able to pilfer a small amount of drugs at the nursing home that will help you stop growing and the effects of testosterone. But, be aware, it will keep you small too.”

Doug stopped for a moment and collected his thoughts.

“That brings to mind something that we need to discuss. Before we do this, I need to make sure you know what I mean by small. You won’t grow taller than five foot six at the most once you start taking the drugs during this next year I plan to put you on. As you continue past this year, your final height may be even shorter than I estimate. I believe you will be at the end, a woman about five foot four or so. Are you okay with this? Because if you do decide to remain a boy, it will be hard to get that height back. Take a moment or two to think it over before you respond.”

Taking my lead from him, I thought about it for few minutes. He waited patiently for me to respond. “Yes, I get what you are saying. To find out if I am a girl, I will become shorter. Frankly, I don’t like sports, so being tall like my dad and brother isn’t my goal, even if I remain a boy. And if I understand you right, the worst case scenario is that I end up being a twin to my late grandfather. And he had a very full life. So, I think it worth the risk to give the real me a chance to come out as the girl I feel I need to be.”

“Good. And thank you for carefully considering what I asked you. I knew that your IQ was high enough to evaluate the risks, and you have. I have more changes for you to make too. You are to express interest in watching ice skating on television. And I want you to particularly watch the men’s programs when your parents are about as well as the women’s programs. In addition, you will express your desire to learn the piano after you express a desire to learn to play the guitar. Explain it to your parents that you want to learn classical music first, just like Rick Wakeman the Moody Blues did when they grew up. Lastly, I want you to start watching programs on Shakespeare or his plays every chance you get on PBS. And be enthusiastic too and demand to see them. It will become important in about two years. And, at some point I want you to join me for French lessons. But right now, we need to lay the ground work for you to become the girl on the outside that you know is on your inside.”

Sleep, restful sleep, came to me for the first time in ages. I awoke with a purpose and a good friend to help me.

I did just as Doug asked. I started playing Yes albums on the stereo at home. Dad was impressed and said that he grew up listening to the Moody Blues and artists like Rick Wakeman, Mike Oldfied, and Wendy Carlos. I put up Wakeman’s poster in my room and asked mom if I could take guitar lessons at school. Both mom and dad were thrilled that I finally showed an interest in music. Doug got me a few Rick Wakeman t-shirts and I started to grow my hair long.

Dad commented that my hair could get a little girlish one day. Taking my hint from what Doug told me, I said, “Ah, dad, I wanna be a musician like Rick or Justin Hayward. You don’t think they are girly, do you?”

My Dad said, “Okay, if you put it that way. Why not! After all, I grew my hair long when I was your age. And as long as you aren’t into heavy metal, it can’t hurt.”

“Cool Dad!” I grinned. “Besides, I like them because they are real musicians. Heavy metal isn’t music. By the way Dad, did you know that Justin Hayward wrote ‘Night’s in White Satin’ when he was twelve? Oh, can we get some classical music too? I want to learn all I can about how to play good music. Especially Mozart. And can we get Pictures at an Exhibition too?”

“Hold on son! I get the picture!” My dad said laughing.

“At an exhibition you mean!” I quipped.

Just like Doug said, my Dad was thrilled and even helped me by going to an old record store with me. My Dad thought it was cool that I appreciated vinyl records.

Following Doug’s instructions, a week later, I came through our door late and said, “Mom, I missed the bus the today. I felt stupid. So, I walked home the three miles. Along the way, I stopped off at the old folks’ home to use their bathroom. I found out that they like kids to come and spend time with the elderly because it helps them. So, can I ask you something?”

“Sure Sam. Sorry about you missing the bus. You should have called. I would have come and picked you up. But what do you want to know?” My Mom looked at me with a sly smile as if she saw something in me that she hadn’t seen before.

“Mom, can I spend a day there each week and visit the residents? I miss grandpa since he died and I want to do something for those nice people to honor him. So, please, oh please can I?” My mom grinned from ear to ear and bent down to hug me. A tear ran down her cheek as she remembered her dad and she said to me, “Sam Miller, you are a kind boy and I love you very much! Of course you can, as long as it doesn’t affect your grades.”

“Thanks Mom!” I said. “You’re the best!” And I hugged her as hard as I could. She went over the next day to make arrangements that allowed me to come and visit in the common areas. I would be able to go into a resident’s room only if the door was open. But, the nursing home was thrilled. And really, I helped so many residents over the next four years, the drugs pilfered were very minor.

The next day, at Doug’s, as Samantha, I related all that I had accomplished. Doug was very happy. “Go and work on your sewing and I will explain what is going to happen next.” Doug started to explain to me, as I practiced with his sewing machine for his girl class, that I was to listen to gossip for the residents in the nursing home that had certain medical conditions. Women who were having problems with their hormones and men who had prostate trouble. He gave me a list of about three medications they were likely to be taking. Look for them, but don’t take their bottles or any of the medication yet. Right now, I want a list of as many patients as you can find with those conditions. I also want a map of the facility with details about security, cameras, exits, etc. Then, show where the patients are located and a list per patient of what they are taking and in what amount.

Once I had the list and the map, he went over with me what pills I was supposed to steal and in what quantity so they wouldn’t be missed or harm the patients. He also gave me a special set of shoes so that I could hide the medications in my shoe after I was done so if they checked my pockets for any reason, they wouldn’t find anything. He told me how to avoid cameras and a bunch of other rules. I was a quick study. He had set up a practice area in his bedroom and I practiced kipping pills and putting back the bottle so fast it wasn’t even ever seen.

I brought the medications to his room and deposited them after every visit. So, should they ever suspect me, they couldn’t find anything at my house. Doug even modified my stash door so it wouldn’t be found unless you knew the secret. The secret was that I had to unlock it first with a magnetic paper weight stone on my desk which undid a secret bolt. It was genius and simplicity.

I began to take acoustical guitar lessons and found I was pretty good at it. Doug had me practice in addition to my girl studies. My parents were very pleased that I had shown interest in an instrument, so they indulged my hair. I even dragged Doug along and played a simple pop piece at a family wedding. My uncle Robert got married and moved to Massachusetts.

When my mom was home instead of substituting, I spent a lot of time at Doug’s home being Samantha. His parents often didn’t get home until six. So, in truth, I was Samantha quite a bit of time with Doug now and he had me taking a range of girl classes that he developed from various sources. Makeup, walking, talking, learning to cook, cursive hand writing, sewing, and studying fashion. He said these were the things I would learn from a mom. But, he warned me, it is only book learning. Doug pointed out that even if it was off, it at least gave me a foundation of what to say around other girls without giving up that I was a ‘boy.’ Every week, Doug had a lot of reading material for me and I sopped it up. I practiced being girly almost every time I was at Doug’s.

I could see the plan was working. I wondered where it would take me next.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

Chapter 3 – Becoming an Indentured Servant

Doug had me start taking meds that I had been collecting for some weeks. I would only find out years later that he was supplementing the drugs with supplies his parents had plenty of in their research lab. I never got to see in their lab, but there were testing drugs on animals as well as working with regular patients. One of the reasons they moved into our neighborhood was that the nursing home and the local Children’s hospital were part of the research project. They didn’t experiment on their patients, but gave them access to the latest methods of fighting cancer that the Rylands were testing in the lab. Soon, that would change my life. What Doug used the nursing home for was a means of cover in case I got caught being on the medicine so it didn’t tie him to his parents.

Doug said that if he had the chance, there was an implant he was aware of that would help me down the road. But, for now, he had calculated the proper dosages for whatever I was taking. Not bad for a kid who could teach his calculus teacher thing or two. The medicines Doug said stopped me from growing and turned off my boy hormones. My hair would grow by five inches and I had almost shoulder length hair by the time I turned nine. I had to start putting it in a ponytail. To my surprise, I found Doug knew how to take blood samples from me as well. He had learned from his parents how to take blood and read blood tests. He used supplies from his parents’ lab. They did so many tests on their subjects, they didn’t even notice. This way he could monitor my hormone levels without letting anyone know what was happening to me. I didn’t ask questions, but on the some of the days I was at the nursing home, he could be found at his parent’s lab running blood tests from samples taken from me in the morning before heading off to school.

Doug warned me that he would just watch me and not help with my next series of tasks. “Samantha, I want you to trust me again. It is going to sound weird, but it is important that you do this. I want you to start helping your mom around the house. By helping your mother with her chores, you will be able to observe femininity and be better able to come out as a girl in the real world. It will mean less time being Samantha at my place.”

“So, I won’t be in a dress as much?”

“Yes, it will cut down your Samantha time. Here is why. Girls work together in a way boys don’t. Which is to say, boys push and shove their way against each other to see who is the best by competing. Girls pull and help each other to become their best together in cooperation. Boys ignore their emotions and focus on one to achieve their goals. Girls process their emotions. The core task I am giving you will last about six months. The chores will continue, but soak up as much as you can. Learn from your mother the joy of processing your emotions. Okay? So, you won’t be in a dress, but it will be like you are in a dress.”

“But, it will be like I am in a dress?”

“Precisely!”

“You sure my Mom didn’t put you up to this?”

“I’m sure.” Doug laughed and threw a pillow at me. I giggled and threw it back.

“Frankly Samantha, your mom will teach you all you need to know by you watching her. And you can’t do that over here in my place being Samantha. You would have done the same had you been born with girl parts. It may be like what your sister Jane used to do when she was just a little younger than you by most likely playing with dolls and her easy bake oven and other toys. Boys look at girls playing and say, ‘how dull’ and ‘no action.’ Girls learn that their feelings and emotions are tied to their everyday actions and common ordinary tasks become life changing. Since you can’t go back in time, you can do the next best thing. Do it for real and have your mom teach you.”

So, on the days my mother was home and not teaching, letting her believe I was just Sam the boy, while secretly dressed as a girl, I began to help my Mom with dinner and soon other chores. Doug would follow me over and read a book at the kitchen table the first few weeks, do his homework, and watch me as I played house by, well, keeping house. Mom discovered that I enjoyed helping her prepare meals and hardly noticed that I was being a girl with her. So, little by little, as I helped my Mom more and more, I discovered Doug was right. I could watch her and learn from her how to be a woman and see the wonder in ordinary tasks.

There was one lesson I never expected from the drudgery of doing laundry. I was helping Mom sort laundry for the washing machine. It wasn’t just about hots and colds, delicate clothes and whites, cottons and synthetics, and the kinds of laundry soaps and settings that go with each. It was about family.

“Oh, that Robert! I wish he would be more careful in the potty!” Mom said.

I tossed the underwear she handed me in the hot load basket. “Why do you say that?”

Look at it she said, “Sometimes he doesn’t wipe as well as he should. His underwear can be so dirty. But he will soon learn to be.”

I looked at what I just tossed in the basket and, yes, it was filthy and smelly. “Why do you say he will learn?”

“Robert just qualified for first string on the Junior Varsity football team. And, not to put too fine a point on it, when you are hot and sweaty with a football uniform on, you get a rash in that area if you haven’t wiped well. That is what happened to your uncle Robert when he got on first string. After a game, he had an awful rash. Limped and moaned all night after he got home.”

“Oh, that’s gross. How about me?” I asked, “How does my underwear usually look?”

“Pretty good. I rarely have any problems. You take your time and clean yourself well. In fact, your underwear is the cleanest of all of us. Although sometimes you get dirty. But, I have noticed that happens when we go on a road trip to see family or go camping. That tells me you like to be in a familiar bathroom. I think that is why you are such a homebody. I wasn’t surprised you went into that nursing home to use the bathroom instead of the woods like other boys would. One other thing I like about you is that you keep a tidy room. It means I don’t have to clean it much. In fact, it lets me have more time in the other rooms of the house.” I couldn’t tell her that I often wore panties and cleaned them myself when everyone was gone out of the house. I usually put on a pair of my regular underwear, walked around the room, and then tossed into the dirty clothes hamper so it would appear that I was using them. I also kept the room clean so she would stay out of it and not discover my stash.

“And Dad and Jane, what do their clothes tell you about them?”

“Your Dad’s polo shirts tell me that he isn’t outside as much as he claims. He has mostly a desk job approving engineering projects, work schedules, etc. Here, look at his collar.” She presented one of his shirts for me to inspect. “He doesn’t have stains around the collar, see. If I notice stains show up, I know he has been working on a project outside with a crew.”

“And Jane?”

“She has short lunches at school and loves chili too much. Look at this blouse. It has chili stains from when she was chatting with her friends too much at lunch and let some chili fall on her blouse because she wasn’t paying attention. I know because I rarely make chili. I want to remove the stains, but it takes too much time. I wish she would do it instead of just leaving it to me. She knows how to do it. I taught her.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Sure.” Mom went on to show me the tools in our laundry and spent some time showing me how to clean various kinds of stains.

I came to understand it wasn’t the chore that Mom did. It was the way Mom did the chore. How she organized the house. How she looked at us. Plus, I learned the care of women’s clothes which are far more complicated than men’s clothes. After her lesson, I found that even folding clothes connected me to that person.

As I listened more over the next few weeks, I found a whole bunch of other little things she showed me that she used to read us like a book. Where dust was and wasn’t told her things. Like that Robert like to pick up and admire his many trophies but rarely read the books on his bookshelf. By the end of three months, I was even helping her clean the house by dusting, cleaning toilet bowls, windows, and vacuuming. As a result, I had learned to read my family like a book too. And, I also began to sit and pee. Clean a toilet enough times and you realize that boys really don’t know how to aim. Plus, I had decided it was time for me to get used to it.

One day, Jane looked up from her bed when I knocked on her door and found me standing in her open doorway with a basket of her clean clothes neatly folded. She fully expected me to throw it at her like I had done a year before when my mom asked me to take her a basket of her clothes from the laundry. I was mad that she took so long that day. Of course, last year I was really mad that day because everyone was home and I couldn’t dress as Samantha. Today was different though. I was being a girl, just not in a dress.

“Oh Sam, nice of you not to throw it at me this time, tell Mom thank you!” She scurried up to her door to catch the basket lest I did it again.

“She didn’t clean them and fold them, Sis. I did. I even got that stain out of your favorite blouse.” I said proudly.

“C’mon, you are pulling my leg. You do laundry? You are just a bratty little boy and you know it! Mom handed you the basket and you brought it up here to take credit for what she did, you little sneak!”

“Nope, it really was me.” I said it as sincerely as I could without raising my voice.

Jane yelled down the hallway not knowing where Mom was. “Mom, did Sam really do my laundry? I think he is lying and should get in trouble.” She looked at me disdainfully and folded her arms in a haughty fashion like she had gotten me in trouble and boy was I going to get it.

Mom poked her head out of the master bedroom door right across from Jane’s door, and said, “Yes Jane, Sam really did do your laundry. He really did get that chili spot out of your blouse too. I watched him do it all by himself. He didn’t have to do it. He didn’t have to care about your blouse either. But he took his valuable time to clean it for you and you should thank him for it. And, young lady, how about you helping around the house instead of being a lump on your bed and calling your brother names? And your little brother isn’t a brat anymore. He has become a very good helper around the house. Now tell him your sorry or you will be the one in trouble.”

“It’s okay, Jane. I deserved it. I have been a brat to you before. There was really no reason for you to believe me.” I said. I couldn’t believe what came out of me. But, it was true.

Jane fell back against the door and went limp. “Well, I guess, I am truly sorry Sam. I just didn’t expect this. I honestly didn’t know. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, as long as you forgive me too. Can I help you put your clothes away? I’ll hold the basket while you put your things away.”

“Sure, I would love it.” She smiled at me realizing I really was not the same annoying brat anymore. “What’s gotten into you? Why are you so helpful and so different?”

Before entering her room, “Well, I started visiting the nursing home to cheer up the old people because I missed Grandpa so much. So many of the people in the nursing home miss spending time with their family who never come by to see them anymore that,” I started to cry, “I didn’t want to forget to spend time with my own family while I could. That is when helping around the house stopped being a chore I hated doing and something I needed to do.” It may have been a lie in part because Doug pushed me in to it, but it really was how I had come to feel about chores and see my home making task. It was like my mother was rubbing off on me.

My Mom was standing behind me by this point when I said that to my sister. Jane and my Mom looked at each other and melted at what they just heard. They both reached over to me and we all stood there crying happy tears as they talked about what a good little man I was becoming. Then we sat on Jane’s bed and bawled our eyes out or laughed out loud remembering our favorite Grandpa stories and how grateful we were for the time he had with us. It felt so good to let all that grief out. Good for all of us. Good for this little girl.

I don’t know how Doug saw this outcome. But, from that moment on, during the last three months of my home making assignment for Doug, my Mom, my sister and I started doing chores together and having fun. Jane pulled her fair share and even helped me in the kitchen prepare dinner so Mom could take a nap after a hard day’s work substituting. In the end, I only had a couple of days’ worth of work a week to do for the family rather than the huge amount of hours I found myself doing at the beginning of my home making task. Plus, as a bonus, I learned from Jane more about how girls acted at school because she would share gossip with me while we worked on the house. Sometimes, I noticed, she forgot I was a boy and would tell me things I didn’t know about girls. And, I didn’t find those things icky either. But, to a boy, I think they would have been.

Oddly enough, while those six months sailed by, I hadn’t notice that Robert and Doug would sometimes watch sports on television together as my progress was being observed by Doug. Doug would ask Robert to explain the games and what strategies were being used to win games. Robert liked being asked and grew to really appreciate Doug being there because he could show off to a genius what he knew about sports. And, in the end, Robert grew to admire Doug for being just a normal boy and not a ‘Mr. Smarty Pants Know It All.’

Doug and I talked one sleep over night after I was told him all that happened. I was glad to have more Samantha time again. Yet, Doug pointed out something to me I didn’t see. “Samantha, you are letting more of the real girl out. Girls understand more than men do the need for each other to be in a community. I know it intellectually as a boy from reading the literature on the differences between the sexes. But you know in your heart now. So when you told me what you said to your sister about work not being a chore, you showed your girl side and that what makes girls special. Did you notice how you, your sister, and your Mom started to share feelings after you shared yours? Think about it, even though you stood in front of them dressed as a boy, you were acting like a girl. So, you don’t have to put on a dress to be a girl, do you?”

“No, I guess not. But it would sure feel better.”

Doug said, “Easier, not better. It is important that your journey be of sound mind as well as of body. Being as comfortable at looking at life as a girl is just as important in your growth as aligning your body to match will be down the road. Clothes don’t make the girl despite a famous Latin proverb, Vestis Virum Reddit.”

What I had yet to understand is the extraordinary way Doug was weaving us all together in a tapestry of family. I only saw how he made the three of us work as a team and become a unit. As time would go one, Doug’s influence would make my family a fully functional family that could absorb a completed me and not have a hiccup.

I went to sleep thinking about what Doug was teaching me. It was something about me I had never seen. I was grateful for him now because when I started this journey, it was all about me. Little by little, I was becoming aware that my journey to being a woman is about others too. And, maybe that would be a good thing.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner (revised March 2017)

Chapter 4 – Much to do about Something

My time at the nursing home was productive in the drug department too. Not one worker or resident at the nursing home caught on to what I was doing. The medicines I pilfered were in such small and strategic amounts it wasn’t even noticed. Most of the time, they attributed it to someone dropping a pill if they did notice. I would still go once a week. And to be frank, I really enjoyed getting to know the people there. It was rewarding. I stayed longer and longer. I got to know everybody by name and they loved having me stop by. The would tell me stories about themselves. And I loved hearing their stories. I realized after my conversation with Doug, that had I been born in the right body, I would have come here anyway just to listen to these wonderful people who are forgotten ... and that is when what Doug was teaching sank in … they are just like me. I was forgotten, and so are they. Doug didn’t send me here for the drugs. He sent me here to learn. “That little skunk.” I thought. “That wonderful, understanding, and faithful little skunk.”

Jane even started coming on some of the days I wasn’t there so the residents got more time with my family. At the dinner table one night, Jane said that Mrs. Fredericks called her ‘Sam’ and said that “You have grown into a fine young woman, Sam.” Jane asked if I was offended.

“Don’t worry, Sis. Mrs. Fredericks suffers from something they call ‘D men sha.’ I don’t know what it means. But I know it causes the resident to get confused easily. The staff tells me to just accept it and not to argue with the resident. Still, I am surprised she even remembered my name. She is a sweet lady who was a nurse during the Korean war. I like listening to her stories of being a nurse. I am just glad you visited and made her happy too. But, thank you for telling me. If she calls me a girl, I won’t correct her. I will know why she is confused. And it will be,” I switched to a phony high pitched voice and said it in a silly way,” between us girrrlsss!” Jane giggled. Mom pretended to shocked. Dad howled with laughter. Robert asked when the game was starting.

Soon, my ability to play guitar got so good, I even started playing guitar at the nursing home. The staff kept a guitar on hand for me there during the nursing home’s afternoon tea. I played mostly Broadway tunes for the residents. I requested the chance to switch from guitar for the moment to piano at the dinner table. My folks agreed and now I was learning piano after school one day a week and playing guitar too for the residents. Plus, during Samantha time, I would play guitar for fun. I was growing to love the songs of Justin Hayward. My guitar teach was disappointed because I was a naturally gifted student, but I pointed out to him that I planned to return to it after learning to play the piano competently. I wanted to take piano because reading music was a talent I needed to develop and it was easier on the piano than on the guitar. And reading music didn’t come as easily to me as strumming a guitar.

As, I moved on to the end of fourth grade, most boys were eleven and about to turn twelve. I noticed most boys and some girls were getting bigger than I was because my growth had slowed down to a crawl. I was four foot four. Average height for a girl. But about four to seven inches shorter than the average boy in my class. Doug said that the drugs stopped a small growth spurt and I was on my grandfather’s growth track now.

Doug had become a regular in the house by that time too. My parents enjoyed talking to him. He listened to their opinions and asked them advice because his parents were hardly around. He even came over and spent a lot of time in the house on days I was off at the nursing home, or a piano lesson, or whatever I was doing outside the home. Inevitably, my sister Jane awoke to the fact that Doug really wasn’t so bad to have around and could help her with her tough subjects. He made himself available and tutored Robert in math, science, and English so he could stay on the football or baseball team’s roster. Doug was really becoming family. However, when I was around, we were still as thick as thieves because I was his pet project.

As I was coming in from a visit to the nursing home one day, I watched Doug at work. He was looking at my photo and my grandfather’s photo on the wall and talking with my parents. He asked my Mom and Dad how big their parents were because he was doing a study on genetics for extra credit. Doug explained to them that my genes were likely the same as my grandfathers and that I may end up being his size too.

My dad was clearly bothered by this news but thanked the boy genius for telling him that. “Somehow,” my dad said, “that explains a lot about why he is so small compared to his brother at the same age.” As I got some milk from the frig to drink, I heard Doug tell my Dad that if that was the case that I was like my grandfather, I shouldn’t be pushed to go out for sports or I would get slaughtered. He told my dad that I should find something for which my height and size would be an asset. He suggested either gymnastics or figure skating. Dad perked up and said that I enjoyed watching the men figure skating competitions. And that my favorite skater was someone named Weir. My dad could recite Joe Montana’s stats and probably his middle name. But bring up the “Battle of the Brian’s” and he would think it was two school boys fighting. To Dad, figure skating wasn’t a real sport. As for me, the only reason I know about Montana is from watching his sock commercials and hearing my brother talk about him incessantly.

What Doug said next really sold my Dad on my learning to ice skate. He pointed out that ice skating was a special elective and the school district has special P.E. exception rules. He said that in certain cases in junior high and high school, a student could fulfill their P.E. requirement by taking ice skating classes at the local rink. Dad could get me out of a regular P.E. class at school where I would be in a locker room and might be called a weak sissy boy only to be picked on and beaten up by bullies. However, I had to get district approval which was easy. Doug could get a note from his doctor dad or mom excusing me when the time came. So, after Doug told my Dad whom to call when I hit Junior High, I found myself learning to ice skate anyway. I went to ice skating classes about once a week after school on Tuesday afternoon. I loved it. The shocker was that on the first day I took the class I was joined by Doug. He needed P.E. credits, but being so young in his grade level, he was too small also. The skating instructor signed the district forms for him and he didn’t have to take regular P.E. class. Thanks to Doug, I also found that ice skating taught me poise and balance. All of which made me a more graceful girl. It might not have been ballet, but it was close enough. And Doug’s genius was awesome. Spending time with him too was nice.

Doug began to give me small amounts of female hormones I acquired from my nursing home visits to prod my body into being more like a girl’s body. He made sure that I wasn’t bumped into puberty by testing my hormone levels frequently and kept asking me if I had my groin and armpits had grown any hair. Doug’s stated goal was to lower my hormones during puberty and give me a more natural hormonal curve that was consistent with my family’s traits. He felt it was important to give me strong bones.

When I was about to finish fifth grade, even the average boys were as much as five to seven inches taller than me now. I was just about four foot five having grown barely an inch the whole year. Secretly, I was pleased with my small stature. I know I am supposed to want to be bigger. But, I don’t like to get into fights. I couldn’t run faster than any of the boys. But, being small, I could outmaneuver them. I wasn’t very strong either. And being the smallest meant that a few of the larger girls liked to mother me which was nice. During recess, I tended to hang out in a Ramada where a volunteer parent had board games and puzzles. I liked going there and playing.

The best thing about being small was that I didn’t have the pressure of joining the boys in sports. Most times, I would just pull out a book to read when I was playing with a team. Most often I wasn’t called up to play. So I could get lost in reading about the Boxcar children, Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, and Sherlock Holmes while everyone played the game.

One day, we were outside playing baseball. The teacher felt sorry for me. I hadn’t been up at all. He finally said to the team I was on that they had to let me get up and bat at least.

“Oh please, Sam’s no good. Do we have to Mr. Harrison?” Our team captain, Jimmy Holmes was miffed. Our team needed to get a run to tie and another to win that period’s game.

“I don’t need to play Mr. Harrison. I am fine. There are really much better players who can do this.”

“No son, you need to play at least once this year. You are up to bat.”

I could barely find a helmet that wasn’t too big for me and a bat that didn’t feel like a lead weight. I ambled up to the batter’s box and got ready to look bad.

The first ball was a strike. Jimmy shouted, “Just swing Miller. End our pain. Get it over with!”

The next ball I swung hard and twirled myself into a heap of flesh on the ground.

Mr. Harrison said, “You can take your base son.”

“Why?”

“The ball hit you didn’t it?”

“No sir, I am just a klutz.”

I could hear Jimmy Holmes saying “Why us? Why did we have to get the loser?”

It hurt to hear him say that. But I couldn’t take a base because of something that didn’t happen.

I got up again and swung hard. I don’t know how, but I connected. The entire outfield was way in and so was the infield. I hit a ball out to right field along the foul line that went over the first baseman’s head. The right fielder was in so close that he had to go running for the ball. I ran with all my might and got to second. Anyone else might have turned it into a home run.

I was very happy. I knew I wasn’t going to get beat up by Jimmy Holmes any time soon. The short stop, or is it the second base man, said he liked that I was honest and didn’t take the base.

So, for me, that lone time at bat was like a home run. The next batter, Tom Hinks, actually did hit a home run and we won the game.

Of course, when I stepped on home plate, Jimmy said “You still should have taken the free base. You could have cost us the game by being honest.”

My parents were talking about summer camp for me. Doug came to the rescue and told us about a Shakespeare summer school pass/fail class for the school district middle school students. I qualified going into sixth grade to take the class. It stopped summer camp talk.

It was organized and run by a teacher from my middle school by the name of Mrs. Duncan. My brother hated her. Boys, it seemed, never got an A in Mrs. Duncan’s course. And, I was going to be in her middle school English class in the fall and spring.

Mrs. Duncan was a stickler for doing Shakespeare right and if I joined, I would likely be, because of my age and size, asked to do a female role. Mrs. Duncan had a bad reputation. That is why some boys from our school often avoided her summer course because they were afraid of her using her influence to force them into playing a girl’s part. Boys from other schools could say no to playing a girl’s part since it wouldn’t hurt their pass/fail grade and she couldn’t do anything about it during the school year. So, she never had a boy play a female role.

Doug wanted to do directing and volunteered as a soon to be sophomore in High School to assist Mrs. Duncan. He had gotten to know her when he was in middle school and had asked her all about the summer class. Mrs. Duncan understood he couldn’t take it for school credit and was delighted to let him help assist anyway. Mrs. Duncan almost fainted when Doug told her with his being there, that his close friend, Sam, would surely join and allow her the chance to have a boy play a woman’s part for once. He said I was open minded and loved Shakespeare enough that I wanted to experience it.

We had a family discussion about it at the dinner table. Surprisingly, Doug was present. My Dad and Mom were worried I would get teased. But, I said to them, “Look, Doug here told me a lot of good can come from this and he has been a really good friend and this was something we could do together. And if I can help him out, I would like to join the middle school acting troop during the summer.” Then I pulled out the ace card that Doug said would sell my folks. “Plus, if I do play a female role, all the better because from what I gather, getting an A in her class would put me into the gifted and talented program in High School which means that many of my classes would count for college credit too.”

They liked that idea. After I joined, I asked Mrs. Duncan if we could perform for the nursing home too. Mrs. Duncan loved the idea and was pleased to find out that I volunteered there. So, I told my parents I will have good references for College from another teacher. That made my parents’ day. My parents were so thrilled with my contributions and Doug’s positive influence; they hardly knew what Doug had really done, which was for everyone’s good.

At the dinner table again (yes, Doug started to join us for dinner a lot), Doug warned my folks on the days I appeared at the nursing home, I may have to stay in character all day or some of the people there would get terribly confused because many of them were suffering from dementia. (I finally learned how to spell it and what it really meant) They talked about the trouble with Mrs. Fredericks, who passed away during Easter. I played guitar at her funeral too being too new at the piano. Doug said those that were of a sound mind would love to hear how I learned the role and prepared for it. To them, I would be a Shakespearian reenactor. So, if I was Portia in a skit, I had to spend the rest of the day at the nursing home as Portia. The staff understood why. Doug even joined me on those days and talked to many of the residents about Shakespeare too.

My Mom and Dad were thrilled. On our next sleep over, Doug performed a little surgery on me with a local anesthetic. I was amazed at his skill. He placed an implant in my left arm. It would guarantee that I wouldn’t grow over the next few years. He said that his parents were supposed to install one in a patient, but had to abort its installation. It couldn’t be used again, but was still good. He was told to dispose of it, but palmed it and decided to use it on me. So, for the next year, I won’t grow. I will still have to take boy hormone blockers, but it makes my life easier at the nursing home.

On the first day of summer school, to Mrs. Duncan’s surprise, she found that with a little instruction, I could sew and make my own costumes using the sewing machines at the school. In fact, I was such a fast learner that I could do it in less than a day. She never knew that I had so much prior experience thanks to Doug requiring me to spend hours on his family’s sewing machine practicing stiches, installing zippers, hems, etc. She was also thrilled that I agreed to do female roles.

For our first play that summer, I made a beautiful costume in the school drama for Hero in the play for Much Ado About Nothing. It came from a Simplicity Renaissance collection pattern. I found it in a store from having done homework for one of Doug’s girl classes. So, Mrs. Duncan didn’t know that I had a chance to work out all the kinks before I took the summer course on several previous attempts. I even made a few costumes for the other boys and girls in the troop based on other patterns Doug had me do previously. My long hair meant that I could use my own hair for the role instead of a wig. I did have to wear platform shoes because I was a little too short. The girls in the troop showed me how to do up my hair and we had lots of fun going over how to use makeup. Even better, the girls put a bra on me and stuff it so I looked more like a girl too for my role. I was the first boy Mrs. Duncan ever met that didn’t mind acting Shakespeare the old fashioned way. Little did she know I wanted to be a girl. Mrs. Duncan said I made a fine woman in the play. I pretended to not enjoy the compliment.

During the summer, we did several skits from a Shakespeare play each week at the school and I used the same costume, with slight alterations, for all of them. But, best of all, I got to be a girl and act like a girl in front of everyone the whole summer, including my parents who didn’t seem to mind since they thought it was a role I was playing. Doug found a way for everyone to see me as a girl without them thinking I was doing something wrong.

And, of all things, after the final performance of the summer for the parents, Mrs. Duncan talked to my father about how proud she was of him for allowing me to play a female role and not getting all macho. Doug was standing there and piped up that my Dad was an exceptional man who didn’t expect Sam to be like Robert, the football star.

Mrs. Duncan thought for a moment and said that she remembered that Robert was in her English class in Middle School. And, my Dad said, “Yeah, Robert didn’t get that macho attitude from me. It must have been the boys at school. Because Sam here is a really good kid. And he isn’t ashamed of his size or afraid to do the extraordinary.” Dad leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and hugged me like I was his little girl. It felt so good.

“Son,” he said, “you don’t make a bad looking daughter.” We both laughed, but I saw how Doug planted the thought in my dad’s brain without him being the wiser.

Later, while still dressed up as Portia from Merchant of Venice, my mother commented that I really made a very pretty girl. “Aw Mom,” I said, “I bet you say that to all your sons.” And we laughed again.

I appreciated what Doug had done that summer. He allowed me to be seen in public as a girl, in front of my parents as a girl, and for my Dad to accept my role as a girl without it hurting his male pride. Thus far, his plan was working. The rule was that I wasn’t to push it. That was Doug’s job.

It was no surprise to me that I was almost the only boy in Mrs. Duncan’s 3rd period class to receive an A in her sixth grade English class that year. I told Mrs. Duncan that I would love to participate the following summer too. She was so happy to hear that and said that doing theatre for the nursing home was her favorite part of the previous summer and she was so impressed I volunteered there.

One of the boys in school asked how I got my A. I said, “By doing the bravest thing a boy could ever do in front of an audience.”

“What would that be?” He asked.

“By playing a girl just like child actors did in the late 1500s.” I would later learn that I shouldn’t have said that because it planted a seed that a couple of years later would harm both Mrs. Duncan and me.

Yeah, I got teased, but the teachers in the school all said the same thing. “I don’t know of any boy in this room who has the courage to do what Mr. Miller did, now get back to work.”

It didn’t work. But, since I was protected by the school, the school bus started dropping me off at the nursing home after school. So, no one could get to me.

Chapter 5 – Serendipity

Sixth grade flew by. My growth was much slower than the rest of my class obviously. At my annual physical, my Mom told the doctor about my grandfather’s height. He said that, yes, I was right on track with my grandfather’s growth rate. While the doctor agreed though, he said that if by the age of fifteen he didn’t see any changes leading to puberty, he would send me to an endocrinologist to get puberty started. Doug’s plan was working perfectly.

I excelled in all my subjects. And I helped Mrs. Duncan with school productions and plays. Somehow, the costumes for the players were better than in any year previous. Mrs. Duncan knew I would be teased and arranged for me to do most of my work in private during study hall. To give me even more work and experience, Mrs. Duncan also arranged to have me do alterations for other schools and local theaters whenever possible. Not even my parents knew. Doug knew though. No secrets between us was the rule. Mrs. Duncan took the measurements and I made the outfits or alterations as needed. It was our little secret.

By November, almost everyone forgot I played a girl during the summer. At home, lessons with Doug continued and I made more and more outfits for Samantha to wear. I had run out of hand me downs from Jane. I started studying about baby care and doing diaper changes on dolls too. And we started basic French lessons which meant that Doug and I were in our own little class. We used a television series called French in Action that he had videotaped on the community channel. He got the workbooks and textbooks from university and the cassette tapes too thanks to his parents. I played Mireille and he played Robert, the two main characters in the series. Sometimes, to blow off steam, Doug and I would ride out of the neighborhood on our bikes with backpacks on, find a place to change, and then do things as “sister and brother.” Each outing I was given a chance to do something minor like go to a library or go for a walk in a park. We avoided places where I could be trapped if someone were to see me and know me.

Valentine’s Day presented a whole different problem. Some girls were developing sooner than others and would shoot up all of a sudden becoming the biggest kid in the room. One of those girls was Miriam Sanders. Since I was about the shortest and she was the tallest, we started to get teased about her being the bride while I was the groom. I tried to ignore it, but the brats wouldn’t let go of the idea until they drew some blood. Miriam for her part really didn’t care. They boys couldn’t touch her because she was bigger than them. So, they mostly targeted me with their taunts.

“Oh look now, there is the happy couple!” came the chorus of boys as they teased us for the umpteenth time as we prepared to talk about what we needed to bring to the Valentine’s Day party that we.

I had enough. I knew I needed to shut them up and have some fun too. I may be small, but my ideas weren’t.

I went up to Miriam, “Can we talk in private for a moment?”

“Oh, okay. What is it Sam?”

“I am tired of getting teased. Are you?”

“Well, yes. But I do like you, so I don’t mind.”

“Me too. But I think they need to be taught a lesson.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, the Valentine’s Day party is at the end of the day on Friday, right?”

“Yeah. So?

“So, do you want to pretend we got married and then give the boys who are teasing us chocolate hearts as a wedding favors.”

“And how will that teach them a lesson.”

I just grinned.

“You aren’t going to tell me are you?”

“Nope.” I had to fight back laughter but she knew I was up to something.

“Okay, what we will have to do?” she said.

“Let’s tell the boys that you and I got married on Valentine’s Day before the party and then I will give the girls pink hearts and the boys who have been teasing us chocolate hearts. All we have to do is to thank them and say that if it weren’t for them we wouldn’t have found each other.” Miriam could tell I was holding back laughter.

“Okay, what is so funny?”

“I just promise that it will be good. And, you must tell the girls that under no circumstances should they eat the chocolate hearts I will be handing out. Only the pink ones. And, they must make a fuss about the pink ones being so girly.”

“Okay. I don’t know why, but I trust you.”

I went home that day, got some money, and walked down to the grocery store. I bought bakers chocolate and chocolate ex-lax. I also bought white chocolate and pink food coloring. I then searched for and found small heart shaped forms I could make the hearts with.

I knew I had a few hours by myself and took advantage of it the next day. I melted the chocolate and smashed the chocolate ex-lax flat and threw it into the pot. I then used an electric mixer and mixed it all together so that it was just gritty chocolate. I then poured with a spoon melted chocolate into the form in the form and then scrapped it off with a knife. I repeated the procedure until I had at least about fifty chocolates. I then made about fifty pink chocolates with the white chocolate. I then arranged two small cardboard boxes. One looked very masculine and the other I put bling on and made to look very girly. I put the chocolate hearts into the masculine box and the pink ones into the girly box.

The next day, during the Valentine’s Day party at the end of the day, my plan unfolded.

At the start of class before we started our party, they started teasing us again. Miriam came up to me and hugged me. We both smiled at them. “Miriam and I have an announcement to make guys. We loved your suggestion and, well, last night we out and got married.” Her girlfriends joined us all giddy and excited congratulating us. I continued, “And to celebrate our love, we brought these chocolates favors we had at our wedding to share with you. Here you go guys, you can enjoy these. I can’t thank you enough. Without you, I wouldn’t have had the courage to ask Miriam here to marry me. Here girls, you can enjoy these too.” Miriam and I just hugged. She realized that I was up to something so she leaned down and kissed me on the lips quickly.

The boys were floored. They saw the girls dig into their chocolate and then decided to eat theirs. They tasted good so they continued and looked smug as they watch us two love birds. They couldn’t believe what they had done to us.

I turned to them and said straight faced, “I have never known such happiness. I wouldn’t have married my dream girl unless you all had pointed her out to me.”

“Yes, boys. I really appreciate you telling me that Sam was the one for me. I am looking forward to a lifetime with him.” We held hands and looked all lovey-dovey.

She may not have known what I was doing, but she knew it was good. Before the teacher call the class to order to begin the party, she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “What was in their chocolate?”

I whispered back, ”Ex-lax.” I could tell she was biting her lip.

The party went well. Miriam and I pretended to be in madly in love the whole time. She laughed every time she saw one of the boys eating a heart. The boys greedily ate all their chocolate. At the end of the party, everyone went to their buses or walked home.

Monday, I walked into class and looked at the boys. I asked with a big grin, “How was your weekend guys?” The girls started to laugh and pointed at them. Miriam piped up, “Yes, how was your weekend guys?” We were never teased again. Nor were we reported. They didn’t know who was to blame. Just me, me and Miriam, the girls, or all of us. But, they knew they were tricked into a very messy weekend. I did hear that after that weekend, one of the boys, Mark Conner, acquired the nickname among his soccer teammates of ‘Brownster.’ Tempted though I was, I never called him that.

I began studying piano too at school in music class. And my ice skating improved. I liked doing double jumps, toe flips, and learning how not to not get dizzy from spins. I wanted to do more, but without my own skates, it would be hard. Finally, I got so good, I was giving Doug lessons too. And then something really good happened that Doug and I didn’t expect us to find coming home after an ice skating session on Sunday.

At the end of sixth grade, my sister Jane, a sophomore now, got invited to the prom by a senior hunk by the name of Matthew Wilcox, a good friend of Roberts. She and my mother were trying to adjust the prom dress she had just bought when Doug and I came in from the skating class. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud walking through the door.

“Oh no, the brat has returned at last. You are no help Sam Miller if you are going to laugh at us. So just leave us be.”

Mom said, “Now Jane. I don’t think he meant anything mean by it, did you honey?”

“That’s not why I laughed Mom. It’s because you both are doing it all wrong.”

They both looked at me stunned.

“How would you know?” asked Jane incredulously.

“Didn’t you know that I learned how to do alterations this last summer in Shakespeare class. Mrs. Duncan has been quietly teaching me all year more skills on how to do alterations of clothes at school too for outfits and for costumes. She even went so far as to get me to help other schools. They would bring students with their clothes they needed altering for choir, band, and plays. I would work on theirs too. I’ve gotten quite good at it. Mrs. Duncan didn’t want me to get teased more than I already had, so, I hadn’t even told you guys. Truth be told, I would like to help, if you let me. I didn’t mean to hurt your feeling Jane. I just want you to look your best for the prom.”

What I didn’t want to add is that once I learned to sew back in fourth grade, Doug had me make from scratch all my outfits. He had found a used dress dummy and a mannequin that he hid when they weren’t in use and I used them to make muslin dresses for the mannequin and do alterations too. Guess I really was a girl playing with dolls for a purpose. Very big dolls at that.

My mom and sister looked at each other and then at me saying in unison, “Okay, prove it.”

I took the tape measure, put the pin holder on my wrist, grabbed the fabric chalk and went to work.

“Are these the pumps you are going to wear, Jane?” I pointed to shoes that were on the floor next to her.

“Yes, we bought them for the dress too.”

“That is your first mistake Jane. Please put them on. They affect how any good tailor measures your hem line and it also changes how the dress falls on your body when it gets altered.”

“Okay Sam,” Mom said somewhat impressed as she helped Jane step into her shoes. “Good start.”

After she put on her pumps, I asked “How far up do you want the dress to go. I might suggest a little above the ankle. Here let me show you.” I rolled up the dress a little and we all looked into the mirror. We tried different heights. Once we found one she liked, I had Mom hold the hem while I pinned it and marked it with the fabric chalk being careful to measure along the way to make sure the hem was even.

“Doug.” I called.

“Yes Sam?”

“Could you get me the step stool from the kitchen please? My sister may be tall and beautiful, but I am short, skinny and ugly.” My sister giggled. “No you’re not. You’re a swan, not an ugly duckling.” Jane said and kissed me on the head as I worked on her.

Soon, I was working all around my sister. Tapering her waist in more and accenting the curve of the dress at the hips to accentuate her sexy curves. A tuck to be made here on the dress. Let it out there a bit on the dress. I asked her if she would like to make a belt for the dress from the excess fabric cut off the dress so she can use the dress as a nice evening dress after the prom. She loved the idea. I would tell her sometimes we can’t do this alteration, but we can do this alteration instead. Mom and Jane would make suggestions and I would pin in up for them letting them see how it looked. Finally, the dress was how they liked it. Marked, pinned, and ready for the sewing machine.

“Fantastic, let’s get it to the tailors so they can compete the changes.” Mom said.

“Oh no, Mom, just get me the right colored thread and I can use the sewing machine at Doug’s house. I can knock it out in about two hours.” I said confidently.

They looked at me dumbfounded again.

“Hello Mom, Jane, who do you think made all the costumes for the whole troop last summer? That’s why I didn’t mind roaming around in a dress. It was my own creation for crying out loud! You didn’t know I made the dress I acted in did you?” I feigned irritation and looked down with my lips pursed. “I thought everyone knew here. No wonder you guys didn’t say anything to me! I was waiting for someone to say something.”

Mom shook her head no. “I honestly thought you had to wear the dress to keep Mrs. Duncan happy because it was her class. I am sorry honey.” She was clearly sorry for not knowing.

Jane, ignoring our conversation grew excited and said “I can’t believe I am saying this, but I have the right thread here. Take us over there. I have got to see you do this! I cannot believe what you are telling me. Can you make the belt too?”

“Of course I can. But, after the prom. I have to order some stuff and learn how to make a matching buckle.”

We crossed the street with the dress and went into Doug’s house. I turned on the classical radio station and went to work. For the next two hours, everyone watched me rip seams, use a sewing machine to stitch seams, do hidden seams, do hems, and expertly alter my sisters dress like a pro. It wasn’t just that I was cutting away excess fabric, or changing feet on the sewing machine to do special stiches, or threading needles, or loading up bobbins, or doing rolling hems, or even seam ripping and carefully restitching along the way, it was that I was doing it. What they saw is that I did expert hand stitching and more where needed when the sewing machine wasn’t the answer. What they saw is that I took command over the dress as though I had made it myself. And when I was done, I said. “I’m sorry it took so long. I didn’t have a dress dummy to help me like I do at the school.”

Mom and Jane looked at me. Mom looked awestruck, “You mean you can go even faster than what we just witnessed?”

“Uh … yeah. Using a dress dummy really helps a short guy like me. That and a step stool.” That set the stage for Doug to bring over the hidden dress dummy in his house in case I needed it in the future. It really wouldn’t have saved me any time.

Jane put on the finished dress in the bathroom and came out. It fit perfectly and she looked gorgeous. My mother checked the seams and workmanship. She looked back to me and said, “Son, you are really gifted. If you don’t become a lawyer or a doctor, consider becoming a tailor.”

Jane held up her hands to her face in utter joy looking at her reflection in a full length mirror. “I am sorry I ever doubted you Sam. Thank you so much. Can I tell my friends? I mean, I know you don’t want the boys at school to find out because they will tease you, but can I?”

I looked at Doug and winked. “Of course you can. But, they need to give me enough to pay for those Gold Star ice skates I have been saving to get. I am tired of using rental skates. No, wait, how many friends are we talking about?”

Jane laughed, “About seven? Think you can handle it?”

“Okay, at $30 per friend, that would give me enough to pay off my Gold Star skate order. Would that be fair?”

“Fair! Fair! No it wouldn’t be fair.” She turned back look at herself in the mirror again. “My brother is not a slave. They need to pay you at least $50.” Turning back to me, she said “A good session with a tailor will cost them $100. So $50 is a bargain. Deal?”

I hugged my sister and said, “Deal!”

Mom said, “Maybe you could do skaters outfits too?”

“Cool idea mom, I like that. But not right now, I have to make Jane look good to her friends it ‘seems.’” They all groaned at the bad pun.

“Hey Doug, do you mind if we move your sewing machine over to my house this week for all the fittings I will have to do?” I stopped. “No, wait, on second thought, Mom, maybe we could buy a better sewing machine instead? There is this really nice one on sale at Georgina’s Fabrics. And, could you buy a Martha Washington sewing cabinet where I can store things. It will go nicely in the living room. I guess I will need a work area. Gosh, so much to do.”

“Slow down son. No problem, I can see we need to get you some tools and we can go out tomorrow and get them. Wow, you really know your stuff. I am really proud of you!” Mom was getting into this too.

“Mrs. Duncan has taught me well.” I lied a bit, but Doug knew why. “And, well, it was an awesome class. I want to do it this summer again just for fun. So, if I do this for Jane, Mom, you have to promise to let me do Shakespeare again, and not try to send me to summer camp.”

“Okay, agreed. You have been so happy lately; I don’t think I would stop you doing it anyway.” Mom said proudly.

I could see Jane was so excited about doing this with her friends, she wasn’t listening to me. I turned to Doug. “Doug, what will you do while I tailor? You can’t hang out with all the ladies, can you?”

“I guess I will keep an eye on Robert and keep him in the other room while you do your magic.”

Mom said, “Good thinking Doug. Robert will need a leash. I don’t know what we would do without you sometimes. Come to think of it, if you hadn’t talked us into the Shakespeare class, we wouldn’t have an in-house tailor.” I blushed.

Jane let out a shriek all of a sudden. “Oh no! Mom, I just realized, the girls will not like a boy, particularly my brother, working on them at all. They will think it is creepy. They already think he is a brat.”

“Yes, you are right. They will think you have lost your mind.” Mom looked deflated.

Doug piped up, “You know, you don’t have to tell them he is your brother. Just say ‘she’ is a young cousin and that ‘she’ is in town for the weekend.”

“Huh?” I said, playing along. I could see what Doug was doing. “I am not a she.”

“Yeah, but you played one very well. You gals could dress Sam up as a girl and a cousin named Jackie Miller, dye his hair with a temporary dye, put glasses on him, a little make up to make him look older, maybe more tan, and your friends wouldn’t even know ‘she’ was your brother. It would be like he was acting again.”

“Oh, come on,” I said. “No one will believe it.”

Jane chimed in, “Please, you just gotta do it Sam! I would be such a big hit with my friends.” She used her eyes to plead with me. Mom giggled at Jane’s antics which were more like a little girl than a teenager.

I looked around for a minute and pretended to think about it. “Okay, but you and Mom have to make me up and make me look good. I really want those skates. You have to find an outfit for me. I don’t care if it is dumpy. Just make sure that it can’t show my you know what down here and that I have something on top that looks natural. And I have to be able to move in it to get up and down all day to do alterations.”

Mom said, “Don’t worry Sam, Jane and I will do it all for you. Don’t worry your pretty little head off.” Jane and Mom giggled.

“Aw Mom!” I couldn’t help but smile. I enjoyed the teasing and they knew it.

Mom and Jane went back home with the dress. That night I did another sleep over with Doug and we chatted about the day’s events.

“That was totally awesome Doug! How did you know?”

“Samantha, I have been planning two years ahead or more. I read people. I ask around. When we started this journey together, I heard students complaining about Mrs. Duncan. I got to know her. So, I knew I could use her to help you. I found out that she needed someone with sewing skills, so I made sure you learned. I knew you would also benefit from playing a girl on stage and being taught how to act like a girl in her class. You probably learned more in her class than you ever did in my so called girl classes. The thing with your sister was pure serendipity, but it fits right in to helping your family see you as what you really are, a girl. Besides, I got to plan something using my high IQ once in a while. Anyway, I have more things for you to do though. But, you are well on your way to becoming a real girl on the outside soon.”

“What are those things?”

“You and I are going to start learning French together soon with a tutor.”

“And why?”

Doug winked at me with a big grin and said, “You’ll find out in two years.”

The next Saturday, I was Jackie Miller, a short family cousin who dressed a little dumpy. Doug crossed the street and presented us with a dress dummy as a gift since he created Jackie Miller and headed off to spend time with Robert. I worked all day with my sister’s friends. It was incredible to be around them. My Mom and Jane treated me like one of the girls. I listened to their gossip and enjoyed every minute of it. For the next five days, I worked hard getting all the dresses ready on the new machine Mom got me. Jackie made a reappearance the next weekend as she did a final fitting for all the girls.

They were thrilled. I was hugged by each of them as they left with their very special dress to be dropped off at the dry cleaners.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

Chapter 6 – Serendipity II

The moment that meant the most to me was when Sally Janson, a friend of Jane’s, was invited to the prom at almost the last minute. She came over to the house the Saturday morning a week before the prom crying that she didn’t have a dress and couldn’t go with Billy Major, the love of her life without a nice dress. Plus, she said couldn’t afford a new one. I quietly pulled Jane aside as she was finding a box of tissues for her and told her to go to Georgina’s, get a Simplicity Pattern, the fabric and thread for it. Some accessories to add to the dress. And Jackie would make it from scratch for free.

Jane looked at me totally gob smacked, but whispered her concern, “Why are being so nice to her, Sam? I hope you aren’t doing this to get her to like you. She has a boyfriend.”

I whispered back, “No, you got me wrong Sis. Sally is much too old for me anyway. Didn’t you hear the girls talking about her mom the other day?”

“Oh my, I totally forgot. You’re right! Her mom was just diagnosed with breast cancer. That’s why she doesn’t have enough money for a dress. Oh Sam, you are an angel!”

I choked up, “Let this one be on me Sis. Please use the money I just earned. Get a really nice fabric to match up with the pattern. They will help you decide at the store what I need. Make sure she has nice shoes too. Get back as soon as possible. Jackie will be waiting for you.”

“No,” said Jane. “it’s on us. Thank you for being such a kind soul.” And she hugged me tightly once she realized why I was doing it and went off with Sally to get what was needed.

When they got back to the house, Jackie was there to greet them. Jane never asked how I was able to get dressed so easily as Jackie, where the outfit I was wearing came from, how I was able to dye my hair and to fix my hair, do my nails, put on makeup, or how I managed to do it all by myself without Mom or Jane’s help.

I measured Sally, asked her what things she wanted to tack on to the dress. Sally didn’t really want anything. Just a nice simple dress that was elegant. I worked well into the night and early the next morning to make sure I did it right. The next afternoon, Sally came to have a final fitting for the next Saturday’s prom. She brought her mother with her this time. My Mom sat down with her mom and they had a nice chat as I worked on her daughter’s prom dress. I didn’t hear much of their conversation, but I could tell some of it was about how plain Jackie was hiding a beautiful girl and what a shame it was. Two hours later, the dress looked perfect. Sally was ecstatic. Her mother couldn’t believe how beautiful Sally looked in the dress and how quickly I made it. All it needed was dry cleaning and pressing.

“Jackie,” Mrs. Janson said through tears, “I don’t know how to ever thank you. My daughter looks like a million bucks.”

I hugged her and said, “You can do it by getting well Mrs. Janson. We are all pulling for you.”

We put the finished dress in garment bag for them, handed them her newly bought shoes, and sent them out the door with hugs, kisses, and well wishes.

I walked over to the living room window to watch mother and daughter hug each other on the way out, look at the garment bag as though it was a gift from above and admire the stylish shoes, and begin slowly walking hand in hand to their car laughing and chatting. I read in their faces what I had just done for them and what a difference I had made in their lives. Things that Doug was teaching me started to take shape in my mind. I realized how he had taken a selfish brat and was turning her into a giving person. I just didn’t want to be the girl I knew I was. I wanted to be a girl that did things like this for others.

As if to echo what I was thinking, mom came up behind me and put her arms over my shoulders and held my body close to her as we both watched their journey to their car.

“Jackie,” she said watching the exit scene unfold, “I like how you help people.”

“Mom,” I reached over and laid my hand softly on her arm and said in a very mellow voice not taking my eyes off our guests leaving, “I feel like a movie. How about you?”

Jane came up to us and joined the embrace. We gazed through our living room window as the very happy Mrs. Janson carefully hung the dress up in their car while Sally smiled at her every word’s meaning, watched a mother kiss her tearful daughter on the cheek, and then watched Mrs. Janson get into their car with the happy memories of being together that afternoon with her Sally etched beautifully onto her face.

Jane leaned her head onto her mom’s shoulder fixing her blurry eyes on the two happy women in the car and breathed, “I feel like a movie too.”

We didn’t move one iota as the car pulled out of our driveway. Only our eyes followed their every move. Mom eventually said, “I think a movie would be nice.” And then said casually, “Want to change back to Sam beforehand Jackie?”

“No. I’m too afraid that this incredible warm feeling I have might go away if I do.” I sniffed.

Jane sighed at the sight of them driving further away taking the magic that happened in our living room that day with them, “I know what you mean.”

“Me too.” Mom whispered in a dreamy voice as their car turned off our street and out of sight.

So, we went to the movies and dinner afterwards, just us three girls. Mom’s treat.

We decided to leave a note. The boys had to fend for themselves.

After the prom, all I heard at the dinner table for the remaining weeks of school was Jane’s trials and tribulations about when Jackie was coming back to town so all the girls could thank her. Especially Sally.

While we all were making tuna salad for lunch on a Sunday, I finally broke and said, “Do I really need to make an encore visit as Jackie, Jane?” Jane knew she had won and started prancing around the kitchen in a kind of victory dance.

Mom suggested, “We could take you to a restaurant and let them all say nice things to you as Jackie. Then they will leave poor Jane alone for the rest of the summer. You don’t want them coming over here and figuring out that Jackie and her brother are one in the same.”

“No, I don’t. But that is not enough of a good reason.” I looked away for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “It would only make sense if Mrs. Janson got out. I bet she needs a distraction from all her troubles. And spending time with Sally and her friends might do her some good.”

“My thoughtful boy.” Mom squeezed me as I rinsed celery in the sink. “That is an excellent reason too.”

Jane added, “And, you could make a nice dress on the cheap instead of that frumpy number we put you in.”

“And afterwards, I could donate it to charity before you make me wear it again.” I huffed. “I think Jackie has to go away, okay guys, promise? And you will have to help me get made up to look like a decent girl again.” I knew that I had to appear to hate what I was doing per Doug’s instructions.

“Looks like you talked yourself into this one son.” My dad began laughing after listening to the whole exchange. He had been standing in door when the whole conversation started. And, he had been hearing for weeks too at the dinner table about how great I was as Jackie, so he realized I had been worn down by the ladies of the house. He didn’t see that it was what I really wanted.

The next Friday, I shaved my legs and got all cleaned up. I dyed my hair temporarily again. I found myself in a pretty and a simple dress I had made that didn’t show cleavage. Somehow, I had started developing the curves for it. I put on panties and hose. Also a training bra and with appropriate stuffing I was made up by my Mom and sister. They put perfume on me. They did my hair. I wore flats even though I could handle pumps. I didn’t want them to figure that out I knew how to walk in heels. They restuffed my bra so I looked more natural, giggled, and teased me. I pretended to hate it. I used a bit of foam they gave me to hide my male member and told them it was great idea and I should use it. Later, I switched with the device I normally use. I put on my faux glasses. And we went to an Olive Garden for lunch. All the girls hugged me and Mrs. Janson too. For the next few hours, we chatted. I had a light salad and a small portion of lasagna. Eventually, I leaned over to my sister and whispered. “I need to use the powder room. What do I do?” She whispered back, “It’s just stalls. Nothing to see. Go to the ladies’ room. It will be fine.” Mom and Jane had a wry smile as they watched me haltingly walk off to the restroom and go where no man has gone before. They were right. I went into a stall and knew to sit down or else my disguise would be discovered. I peed. Grabbed a bit of toilet paper to keep up appearances. And got up, flushed. Adjusted my outfit, and went to wash my hands.

I was checking my makeup when one of the girls from our party came in and was trying to get all chatty with me. Her name was Margaret. She wanted my number so she could use my talents again. I froze. Luckily, Jane was watching out for me and came in to rescue me. So, I had my first experience in a public restroom with family.

Chapter 7 – My Girlhood Sylibis

The summer before 7th grade, I signed up Shakespeare summer class again. I didn’t need the credit. I took it anyway. I told Mrs. Duncan that I enjoyed it so much that I couldn’t stay away. Doug was allowed to direct instead of just assist. And, I was almost always a girl during rehearsals, in plays, and at the nursing home. Everyone didn’t even notice or care.

The first week was about rehearsals and setting up for doing skits. Mrs. Duncan was so inspired by the performances at the nursing home we did the year before, that she added several other venues for us to perform. They included day cares, malls, and the Children’s Hospital.

I did everyone’s costume and I was able to be just a girl more and more in the presence of my family of fellow actors. I just didn’t want it to end.

The first day, the girls said they wanted to go eat nearby. But, I was already dressed as a girl and didn’t want to change and change again. They all said I looked fine, and no one would know I was a boy if I went with them. So feigning reluctance I agreed. Then came another day. And another. By Thursday, it was normal for me to be seen with them dressed as a girl at the food court in the mall. At the end of the week, we had extra time because of an electrical problem, and they took me into the mall and we all went window shopping. It felt normal and natural. We passed by a photo store where they were offering a deal for a family portrait. I remembered that our parent’s anniversary was coming up and that Robert would be around in August. Getting them a gift certificate would be a nice gesture. I arranged to buy one and then give it to them for their anniversary in a week
.
The next Monday, I was playing Beatrice and George Duvall was playing Benedict in a scene from Much Ado About Nothing. Our audience was a group of patients at the Children’s Hospital. They were all in a circle of chairs and wheel chairs flanked by hospital staff and family. One patient stood out. She was in the back in her hospital bed. It had been wheeled into the room where we did the performance. It was occupied by a bald headed girl. The only way I knew she was a girl was the pink gown she had on and her ear rings. She had IVs and electronic equipment attached to the bed.

She smiled during the performance and inspired me to do my best. George and I bantered and played our parts well. The boys and girls laughed as we teased each other and called each other names. The language had been altered a little so that children could follow the insults as they flowed betwixt Benedict and Beatrice. Then we sat down as the next group in our troop did their performance.

After our performances were complete, I approached the girl in the bed and said, “Hi, I’m Sam. What is your name?”

“Cybil.” She spoke softly but clearly. “I’m six years old and I’m on chemo. I am too tired to get out of bed, so they wheeled me in here. I loved your performance Samantha. I would love to be an actress.”

“Well, this is just fun for me. I want to be a doctor or a lawyer when I grow up.”

“How old are you?”

“Eleven. I am going into seventh grade this year.” I giggled and smiled. She could tell I was excited about school.

“You are so beautiful Samantha. I love your hair and your dress. I wish I could wear a dress here in the hospital. But, they won’t let me.”

“Thank you for saying I am beautiful. But I think you are beautiful too. And I wish I could make you a dress for you too. I made this dress that you like so much.” I slowly turned around to let her see.

The nurse tending her spoke to me, “She has to wear a hospital gown that gives us access to her while she is on chemo. But there are patterns that we have that can make it look like her gown is a dress.”

It was obvious what the nurse wanted for the little girl and I got the hint.

“Would you like me to make you a dress for you to wear in your hospital bed, Cybil?”

“Oh yes, please! Would you do that for me Samantha? I really want to look pretty like I did before this cancer robbed me of my hair.”

“Of course, I would love to do that.”

“And would you come and visit me too. Could you teach me to do make up and my nails? I don’t have a sister and my mom and dad work hard to pay my bills, so my mom doesn’t have time to teach me.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. But I will see what I can do.”

She looked crushed. “Why?”

“Well, I am only eleven. I will have to ask my sister Jane or my mom if one of them can drive me over here. And I have to get permission from the hospital and your parents too. I may be older than you, but I have to be obedient to adults too. But, I promise to see what I can do.” I was thinking only about how to let her down easy. She looked too frail to say no and crush her spirits.

The nurse patted me on the arm and whispered in my ear that it would be arranged if I wanted to do it.

“Can you get me the pattern for the gown please nurse?”

“It’s Janice. And thank you so much for helping. I will get it for you.”

“How tall are you Cybil, do you know?”

“No.”

I asked the nurse if she knew. “Three foot five.” said Nurse Janice who returned from the nursing station nearby with a piece of paper. It described how to make a gown look like a dress. I looked at it briefly just in case I had any questions. I quickly perceived that it attached to the hospital gown and gave the illusion of being a dress. It was more like a blanket with ties that attached to her hospital gown than a real dress.

“Tomorrow or Saturday. I will get it over here and, if I can, I will bring it personally.”

“Oh thank you Samantha. You are my new best girlfriend.”

“I have to go now Cybil, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope I can see you tomorrow.” My thought was that I would drop it off and leave without seeing her.

The nurse walked back with me to my troop. We walked slowly so we could chat.

“I can’t betray a patient confidence by law, so I hope you take the hint, but that little girl is very sick and might not be staying here much longer if you catch my meaning. Let’s just say that the first day of school may never come for her. But you didn’t hear that from me. Please, she was so happy to have you. I am sure her parents will say yes. Please consider coming to visit her too. She is so lonely and scared.” She brushed tear from her cheeks.

Mrs. Duncan came up to me and said, “It’s time to go Samuel. The bus is waiting to take us back to the school.”

The nurse looked shocked. Mrs. Duncan quickly apprehended why and said, “Like in Shakespearian times, we allow our very young boy students to play girls. We use their performances to teach about Shakespeare’s time too. But, we didn’t do that here. We wanted to entertain, not to teach. I’m sorry you didn’t realize that Sam was a boy.”

“Oh my, Cybil will be so disappointed. She thought she found a girlfriend with whom she could spend girl time. I will try and let her down easy.”

My heart sank. I was just being selfish braggart showing off my skills. I knew it. Cybil touched me. She needed me. And I was being a jerk about it. “No, wait. Don’t tell her. If I got the hint correctly from you, she isn’t going to be much longer with us. I can’t shatter her final days. I think I can be her girlfriend just as I am Beatrice right now. I just need to find a way of getting here and back home. I also need to clear it with my parents and her parents.”

Doug walked up at that moment. Mrs. Duncan said, “I would take you after class but you know I can’t drive a kid all alone to the hospital after class. School policy.”

“What if you have two people? I could come too.” asked Doug.

“Oh, yes, I could do it that way.”

“Well, that is one way. I think I can get my sister and mom to help too if I ask them. Here is what I think I can do right now. I will go home and make the dress for Cybil. Tomorrow, I can either say yes or no to coming for future visits. You can get approval by her parents for me to visit set up. And I can get permission from my parents to visit too.”

Mrs. Duncan said, “That is a very sensible plan. Honesty is the best policy.”

The nurse agreed and said that she would let me work on it before saying anything.

After looking at the dress pattern when we got back to the school, Mrs. Duncan gave me some fabric from the school to help make the girl a dress before catching a ride home. I went to work when I got home and had it done long before dinner. I added lace and details that made it look more and more like the dress she saw me in. Then I sat and considered how to bring it up to my parents.

That night at the dinner table, I announced, “I have a problem. And I need some advice from everyone here. Doug already knows what it is.”

Dad asked, “Is it a serious problem son?”

“Not for me, but for a little girl in the hospital with cancer who has months to live.” I went on to explain the dilemma and what happened at the hospital.

“Why didn’t you correct her when she said Samantha?” asked Jane.

“I don’t know. Part of me enjoyed hearing that I was easily mistaken for a girl which was a compliment to my acting. I also think she looked so frail I was afraid of wasting what little energy she has left to try to understand. Don’t think I didn’t kick myself after Nurse Janice told me what was happening. I wasn’t happy to find that my vainity at being on stage for her was more important than she was when I was told how sick she was.” I proffered.

I continued with what I thought was important. “Here is what I do know. I made a connection with a nice little girl who doesn’t have much longer to live. And I don’t want to let her down. She has a narrow window to get some joy out of life and I don’t want to be an instrument of stealing any precious moments away from her. I don’t want to lie to her. And I want to give her something that will make life worth living, which is friendship. And I am torn. What should I do?”

I wanted to scream to them, I am a girl. But, in the back of my mind, I knew that by asking these questions, I would be finding out my family’s feeling about my true identity if I were to reveal it. This would give them a chance to process it. And, until I got Doug’s advice as my counselor, I felt I would keep that off the table for the moment and play it as though I were really a boy in a boy’s body.

“So, is your offer of real friendship or just going to be an act?” asked my Mom.

“No act. It is genuine friendship. I really like her. She was very sweet. I realize that my being there for her is more important than my pride.”

“Is anything you are doing harming her if she gets better?” asked my dad.

“Not really. Only that when I told her the truth I would surprise her in that I can both take her to the prom when she gets older and also make her a stunning dress for the prom too.”

Jane quipped, “I think that could be the best pick up line I have ever heard. Pity I can’t tell my friends.”

I grinned. It was a funny pick up line, although I knew I would never use it.

Jane then lowered her voice pretending to be a guy and said, “Hi Cybil, if you go with me to the prom, I’ll make you a stunning prom dress from scratch too.” The table howled with laughter.

Mom reflected for a moment and then asked one last question which seemed to make the most sense. “Son, do you hate your dad and I because of Santa Claus?”

“No,” I couldn’t help but grin, “of course not. It made Christmas the most wonderful time of the year. It gave me precious memories too of Grandpa who loved watching us open presents from Santa.”

My Dad pronounced, “Then I think the decision has been made. There is no real harm in you doing this. And, if she gets better, just tell her you were her gift from Santa Claus.”

Mom said, “But I do have one recommendation.”

“What would that be Mom?”

“I think you need to treat this seriously. Cybil deserves you walking into that room all hers. I want you go to your class dressed as Samantha every day. That way, Jane and I can help you get ready in the morning. You can’t treat this simply as an act for a few hours. I know Mrs. Duncan will allow it. Then, after your class, you and Doug can be dropped off by Mrs. Duncan at the hospital and you will have more time to spend more time with Cybil. Also, In the event her condition worsens, you will be able to go to her right away without needing to change. Either Jane, your dad, or I can pick you up.” I was stunned.

I thought about it for a moment. “Yes, I can see you are right. If I do It your way, I won’t be walking into the room with a hint of pride showing. Thank you Mom. In that case, I’ll have to make a few outfits for it to work. But yeah, quite doable. I haven’t donated Jackie’s outfit to a charity yet. I forgot Sis. I could wear that one tomorrow. And, on the way home we could get me some more fabric. I think just three outfits is all I will need. I can do some mix and match off of that.”

“How about Doug?” I looked at him.

“Actually, it will work for me too. The Children’s Hospital is part of the university. I can walk over to my parents’ office and spend some time with them helping them with their research, so it is not a problem.”

The next day, I ate breakfast with the family and ran upstairs to become Samantha. This was Doug’s suggestion. That I eat as Sam first. Everything was the same as before except when I went out I was dressed as a girl and I carried a purse. When I arrived in class, I told Mrs. Duncan why I was dressed as I was and she nodded approvingly. “Your mother is right. You can’t at your age just simply turn and turn off your performance. You have to be natural when you walk in that door.”

A moment later, Mrs. Duncan stood up and address the classroom.

“Class, class, may I have your attention.” The class sat quietly. “Yesterday, at the hospital, a young girl with advanced cancer formed a friendship with Sam here. She didn’t know about Sam’s reenactor role. She thought Sam was really a girl. She wants him to come see her every day and he has agreed. But, she doesn’t know Sam is a boy. So, for the next few weeks, Sam has asked to be Samantha for this little girls last days. No one is to make fun of him. It is a noble thing he is doing.”

She went on to add, “I think you all saw the poor child in the bed yesterday. It is sweet and wonderful for Sam to do this. And I want you to support Sam’s and Samantha’s gift to this poor sick child.”

Everyone applauded. I curtseyed and bowed. My cover was established. For the foreseeable future, I was a girl.

That afternoon, I showed up at Nurse Janice’s station. Nurse Janice knew the moment she saw me in a dress the good news. Nurse Janice beamed ear to ear. “You have no idea how much this will mean to Cybil. Her mother said yes. Here, let me take you to her room.” I was guided along the corridor to her room. The walls were painted with cartoon characters and icons of my childhood. Teddy bears had tea with dragoons. Humming birds dance among flowers. And bees were making honey. Nurse Janice opened the door to Cybil’s room. It was across from nurse’s station so she would be under constant observation.

Once in her room, Nurse Janet woke her up. “Cybil, Cybil, there is someone here to see you.” Cybil arose from her slumber.

“Samantha, you came!”

“How could I not come and see my bestest girlfriend in the whole wide world!” I went up and gave her air kisses on the cheeks. We giggled and made small talk. Nurse Janice was thrilled.

I then unfolded my surprise for everyone to see. “Nurse Janice, can you put this lovely dress on my best girl friend?”

After showing it to Cybil, Nurse Janice put it on her while I got a drink of water and came back. At that moment, Cybil’s mom came through the door. “Hello, you must be Samantha! I am Mrs. Allen, Cybil’s mom. Thank you so much for doing this for Cybil.” She came up and kissed me on the cheeks and I responded in kind.

“My pleasure. This isn’t too unusual for me. I volunteer at the Manchester Nursing Home and spend time there with the residents.”

“Nurse Janice has told me about your special role. In fact, I just talked to your teacher Mrs. Duncan a few minutes ago and she told me what a special young lady you are and who you really were on the inside. That really changed my opinion about all this. She also mentioned how much time you spend at the nursing home. I love that. I just want to know that you are okay with being here and not embarrassed by being asked to do this.”

“Oh no, last night I discussed it with my parents and they said I would be like Santa Claus to Cybil. A real gift to a special child.”

“Good. Because I am very grateful that my Cybil will have a friend visiting her.”

I was amazed at the way we were able to speak in code in front of Cybil without her knowing the truth. Her mother just told me that she knows I am a boy. And I told her that I was happy going along with being a girl for Cybil’s sake.

She leaned over and said in my ear, “The only thing I ask that the door be open all the time so the nurses see you. Okay.” I whispered in her ear, “That is a reasonable request.”

“Mommy, look at the dress Samantha made for me!” I looked at the dress which was nothing more than a cover. A falsehood. Yet, how it looked changed in my eyes when I saw what it did for her. While it was a plain and simple illusion, it became a symbol of something deeper. The clothes I was wearing were a symbol of what I wanted to be for real and what I was inside. Cybil’s dress was a symbol of being well and not a resident of this place fighting for her life. It was her freedom to express herself. My heart ached to be totally free to express itself to the world. In a very real sense Cybil was freeing me as much as I was freeing her. What a blessing she had become to me.

Her mother looked over the dress and her jaw dropped. She looked back at me with tears in her eyes. “You did this? Overnight? It is incredible! So pretty and it picks up Cybil’s eyes too. Thank you!”

Cybil said proudly of her new friend, “Yes Mommy, and she probably made the dress she is wearing too.”

“You did?”

I twirled to let her see. “Yes, for a situation not unlike Cybil’s here where I had to make a special appearance to help someone who asked for my help.” I stretched the truth a little. I couldn’t see how this compared to getting taken to lunch as Jackie at the Olive Garden. Mrs. Allen looked intrigued.

“Well, I have to go back to work, but I am very pleased that you can spend time with her. It really means a lot to me. Her dad works on oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico and can’t be here yet. And I am all she has at the moment, but if we don’t work, she doesn’t get better.”

“I think I understand. I have helped quite a few cancer patients over the last several years. I know how important this is and I promise to be the best girlfriend I can be to Cybil.”

Before she left, Dr. Ryland knocked on the door. “Mrs. Allen.” He said.

“Dr. Ryland, what a surprise. Why are you here?” She looked worried and it appeared in the tone of her voice too.

“I just wanted to stop by and see you and tell you that I know Samantha here personally. She lives across the street from me. She is a marvelous young lady.”

Mrs. Allen looked at me with new found admiration.

“Can I talk with you both outside for a minute, please?”

Mrs. Allen and I walked out in the corridor with Dr. Ryland.

“Mrs. Allen,” Dr. Ryland said, “I know Sam personally. He is the best friend of my son Doug. You couldn’t have a kinder gentler person than Sam in your daughter’s life. And because of that, Doug suggested to me that I get your permission to update Sam on her condition if needs be. And, if you don’t mind, be able to bring him to the hospital after hours if I need someone to comfort her.”

Mrs. Allen looked at me and said, “You would do that?”

I nodded yes. A tear flowing down my cheek confirmed my sincerity.

“Mrs. Allen, I have watched this young man go into the nursing home he volunteers at and comfort many of my patients. And when he did a performance as a young lady there recently in a Shakespeare play, he stayed in character as a girl so my patients didn’t lose their bearings. Normally, I don’t think eleven-year-old boys or girls have the maturity to handle anyone with the commitment needed to follow through. But this young man does and has experience too. The fact that he is willing to play the part of girl and be her friend is the best medicine I could proscribe for her.”

He looked at his watch, “I have to go now. But I thought you should have my medical opinion about Sam being Samantha.”

“Thank you Dr. Ryland.” We walked back into Cybil’s room.

As we walked back into the room, Cybil’s mom looked me over for a second and said, “You really are a beautiful young lady. Such poise and grace too. And a beautiful heart. It is hard to believe …” she caught herself from revealing who I really was “… that Cybil couldn’t have found any better friend in the whole wide world.”

“Thank you. And I really appreciate you letting me do this for Cybil. And, as you heard, it is the kind of thing I have done before and have found very rewarding. But more than that, I promise to do my best and be a good friend to her.”

Cybil and I spent the day talking about what she would like to do on my next visit. We’re going to do makeup. She is going to brush my hair. She is going to teach me how to do Cat’s Cradle soon. And, we are going to play house. And so much more.

About Five O’Clock, I heard a knock on the door. It was my mother. “Hi Samantha! Is this Cybil?”

“Hi Mom. Yes, it is!”

“Hi Mrs …”

“Mrs. Miller. I am Samantha’s mom. Oh what a pretty dress. And what a pretty girl.”

“Not as pretty as your Samantha!” I blushed.

Mom looked at me for a moment a bit amused and said, “Yes, she is pretty.”

“I will see you tomorrow Cybil, what would you like to do?” I asked.

“Make up. I want to learn make up and nails.”

“We will see, okay? Good night. Love you.” I gave her a hug and air kisses.

“Love you too!”

As we were leaving, Mom said, “You are a puzzle to me sometimes Sam. Every time I think I know you, you show me a wonderful side I have never seen before. And yes, you do make a pretty girl. And one day, I hope you make a handsome boy too. But right now, your job is to be the best girlfriend that girl has ever had.” She gave me a squeeze.

“It is all thanks to Doug. I think he has done wonders for all of us.” I deflected.

“You know; I think you are right.”

Mom and I drove to the fabric store where I grabbed a few yards of different fabrics, zippers, buttons, patterns and threads. I had a few outfits to make tonight so I could be ready for tomorrow. We stopped next door to the store and we bought panties and stockings in my size. Mom bought a few training bras too so I would look a little older.

Then we visited the consignment store and found about four pairs of shoes for me.

While at the consignment store, I said, “Mom, can you get or show me a few outfits here that you think Jane would have worn around Cybil at my age. Or what you think I should wear around Cybil. I want to put on the best performance I can for her. I don’t care if it is girly. This is for Cybil, not me.”

“You sure Sam? You might get teased.”

“If I do, I will just remember that is for a girl with cancer. I can live it down. She may not have the time for me to get it right unless you help me.” My eyes pleaded with her and won.

“Good point. Okay, as long as you know it is girly.” So, my Mom also got me a few more clothes. A couple of skirts, a denim jumper, a couple of nice t-shirts, socks and shorts, and some sweaters. She also grabbed an unused makeup kit for six year olds. “Here,” she said, “you can play with this tomorrow. It will take the pressure off of you.” Then she grabbed teenage make up kit snickering, “Here, this will take the pressure off of Jane and me in the morning.”

I had no time to change when we got home. I helped Mom in the kitchen. At dinner, we talked about my time with Cybil. What Dr. Ryland said. Doug said he was thrilled to be able to spend time with his parents, and yes, he prompted his dad to come over and say those nice things. I rushed through dinner and got to work on my clothes. I was thrilled. Normally, I hid my clothes. But these were special clothes. Doug sat and talked to my parents.

Later, Doug came in and watched me. It was just us. He came up and said in my ear, “I love it when a plan comes together.” Then we chatted for a while. It came time for him to leave. I was so busy making clothes, I still hadn’t had time to get out of my Samantha clothes yet. So, instead of high fiving as we often did when we were in my house around family, I found myself hugging him and stood on my toes as he leaned down so I could give him a kiss on the cheek thanking him for his help. It was then that I noticed how I felt. I had never kissed a guy as a girl before and it felt, well, very nice. Doug grinned as he saw my reaction to what I just did. “I am going to go home now. See you tomorrow.”

I felt self-conscious and blushed. “Umm—yeah. Sorry about that.” I giggled.

“As he closed the front door, he whispered, “It’s I okay, I liked it too.”

By midnight, I had a nice section of my closet with Samantha clothes and a drawer in my dresser for my panties and socks.

And it was out in the open. For the moment, it felt good.

I slept like a bear and woke with a spring in my step.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner (revised March 2017)

Chapter 8 – Mom’s Birthday

I went downstairs and ate breakfast first as Sam, the boy, following Doug’s idea. He was prescient in seeing that my family needed to see me that day as Sam just being Sam or else they would suspect something. If I came down as Samantha, I would be signaling too fast who I really was. Smart man!

Then, I went up, showered, dressed as Samantha, got made up with the teenage kit Mom bought, did my hair, put on one of the shoes we bought with a heel, grabbed my purse making sure it had everything, and went downstairs to wait for mom whistling “Here comes Santa Claus.”

Dad was taken back by how happy I was.

“It’s okay Dad, I just feel good about helping Cybil.”

He softly said, “And when she dies?”

I stopped, leaned back against the wall, and got tears in my eyes.

“I’m so sorry son, I just wanted to make sure that you don’t get so hooked on Cybil that you become morose like you did when your grandfather died.”

I realized that I needed that shock to keep my feet on the ground. “I understand Dad. Thanks. You are right. I did become a jerk when Grandpa died. And I need to keep in mind why I am doing all this.” I motioned my hands to indicate why I was dressed like a girl and looked like a girl.

Mom came in and said I looked very nice. She dropped me off at school a little early with the makeup kit for six year olds and headed off to her continuing education course to maintain her teaching credentials.

I sat down properly at an outside table. I smoothed my skirt and sat down with my legs closed like a proper lady should. My posture and bearing was all girl. I sat there waiting for Mrs. Duncan to show up to let me in. I passed the time reading the instructions for the makeup kit. One of the girls from the troop came and sat down in front of me. Her name was Mary. I didn’t know her last name.

“Hi Sam “

I looked up from my reading, “Oh hi Mary. You look nice today. That blouse is very pretty. I love all the roses on the field of black fabric.”

“Thank you Sam. Hope you aren’t taking this girl thing too far?”

I laughed instead of giggling. “Sorry, but when I get dressed up like a girl, I play the part.” I turned my attention back to the kit and changed the subject. “Maybe you can help me out. Did you every use one of these makeup kits when you were younger?”

“Yes, I got one of these for Christmas when I was seven. I loved it. Had hours of fun.”

“My Mom and I got it for Cybil. She wants to learn to do makeup and her nails. And I want to do it right.”

“Would you mind if I joined you today? We could all do it and then you know you would be doing it right.”

“Would you? I would love it! Oh, but do you have a means of getting home though?” I was back in girl mode.

“No problem, my Mom works as administrator in the hospital. Do you remember seeing her with me the other day?”

“Yes, I was going to ask you about that but I got caught up talking to Cybil.” I lied a little. I did see her with a woman who wasn’t wearing a lab coat or a nurse’s uniform, but I would more than likely never even say one word to her about whom she was talking to the day of our performance.

Mrs. Duncan arrived to let us both in. She looked me up and down approvingly, but didn’t say anything.

“Well?” Mary said. “Do you want me to come?”

“Yes, I do! Thank you!” and I hugged her.

Later, the two of us entered Cybil’s room

“Hi Cybil, I brought a friend with me who is a real makeup expert. I hope you don’t mind.” I went up and hugged her and we both air kissed.

Mary came in a marveled at Cybil’s dress.

“Samantha made it for me! She probably made the outfit she is wearing too.”

Mary looked at me and then, as if a light switch turned on, her face changed. “Jackie?”

“Um, Cybil, I need to talk to Mary for a moment, we will be right back.”

I gently grabbed Mary’s arm and quickly led her into the corridor. “Please, I am trying to keep that a secret. How did you know I was Jackie too?”

“I recognized your outfit from yesterday but couldn’t remember where I saw it. My older sister is Margaret. You altered her prom dress. She said you were the best seamstress she had ever met! She showed me the photo of you guys in front of the Olive Garden. I remembered your outfit in the photo because I figured it had to be handmade. No one was selling that style anymore because it shows no cleavage and the look of the fabric was too fresh and modern.”

“Okay, we need to get back in there. But, real fast, please, Mary, don’t tell anyone, please! Not even your sister. The reason I keep quiet about my sewing talent is that the boys at school will beat me up if they ever find out. They already want to kill me for playing female roles. I don’t want to give them another reason.”

“Oh my gosh, I can see that now. Okay, I won’t even tell my sister or my mother. It will be our secret. But you have to tell me more one day, okay?”

“Agreed. Thank you so much for keeping my secret.”

We went back into the room and spent a couple of hours. Cybil loved her nails and makeup.

Mary went up to see her mother before my Mom came and got me.

A week or so went by and the same routine. We did make up. I found out that she liked to sing. I thought about bringing my guitar the next time I came and surprising her.

It was a Tuesday. Doug was going to meet me at school later. My Mom had to do a business errand to the bank. Jane was off with her friends. I waited out front on the porch for Mom to come back and take me to class. I was dressed as Samantha. I looked all girl. I wore the denim jumper with a pink shirt. Even my sneakers were pink. My lips had lip gloss and my eyes were made up. And I had pink nails.

I had been so busy lately that I didn’t see that we had new next door neighbors move in. I heard babies crying. I got up to wander over to the garage side of our house and saw in the window next door a woman frantically trying to change a baby. She looked over at me and I could tell was excited.

The woman opened her side door to their porch and said, “Miss, Young Lady, can you come and help me. Please!”

I walked thru a gap in the bushes separating our homes, climbed the stairs to their deck, and went in to help her.

“Hello, my name is Hannah Smith. We just moved in. Are you our next door neighbor?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Could you help me please? I have triplets and they all are crying.”

“Sure, what can I do?

“Please take one of these two babies and hold her. “

I picked up one like I had learned during my Doug girl class and started to comfort the child. She grabbed the other and was holding two babies at once. She went over to a couch and sat down and relaxed. I followed suit and sat on the other side where I could watch our front driveway and watch for my Mom.

The baby girl enjoyed my touch and snuggled her face into towards my blouse. It was a wonderful feeling. I was instantly addicted.

“Hi, I’m sorry, my name is Samantha. I live next door. When did you move in? I’m sorry again, that must have sounded rude. I’ve been busy and …”

“No problem. Last week. I was wondering why I hadn’t seen you before. I have been spying the neighborhood looking for a young girl who might be able to help me.” She winked at me. I held back a smile as best as possible, but I lost the war.

“Oh, I have been busy. I have a friend in the hospital who has cancer.” I started to tear up. “And I have been visiting her every day to cheer her up.”

“What a lovely thing to do. That is so sweet of you. Oh, I guess I should introduce my babies. The one you are holding is Alice. She is the oldest. Then there is Brian here, the middle child, and Carol the youngest.”

“Hi Alice,” I said to the baby I was holding, “you are a pretty girl. Hello Brian, you are a handsome devil. And Carol, I know what is like being the youngest. So, if Alice here picks on you, you come to me.”

Mrs. Smith chuckled. She could tell I was falling in love with her children just like she expected any girl to do.

I felt Alice fill her diaper and giggled at the sound. ”She makes sounds like my older brother Robert when he watches the Superbowl with my dad. Boys can be so gross.” I scrunched my nose.

“I know. I just don’t understand why guys are into that game. Although, those tight fitting uniforms do make their behinds look real cute.”

I demurely replied, “My sister says the same thing. I’m still too young to understand yet.”

“How old is your sister?”

“Seventeen and she dates all the time now. I sort of miss having her around.”

“How old are you?”

“Eleve. I am going into seventh grade in the next few months.”

“Do you like school?”

“Oh yes, I love it. I am in summer school now only because I am studying Shakespeare. I made my own costume. I play Beatrice and Portia. And I even make my own clothes. But not today. I wanted to be a little girly for Cybil.”

“Nice. You have a real talent if you make your own clothes too. Most girls don’t know how to make clothes these days. I know I don’t.”

“That is how I met Cybil. She was in the hospital that we performed at and I got to know her this summer and” I started to choke up, “her mom asked if I could help her.”

“Oh my, is she in a bad way?”

“I think she won’t live much longer.” A few tears rolled down my face.

Alice filled her diaper again. “I think she is done. I hate to ask this. I am exhausted from moving in. I assume you know how to change her? The changing table is over there with all the necessary stuff.”

I calmly got up not wanting to give away the fact that I never had done this before, walked over to the curved foam changing pad and placed Alice on the quilted pad. “What diaper stack should I use?”

The one on the left of the three stacks you see there.

“Got it. Hi Alice, I am Samantha. I am going to change you.” I kept her attention as best I could. I picked up a diaper and put it aside while I undid her snaps. I saw her diaper bucket next to the table and the wipes too. I drew back her outfit top and bottom so all I could see was skin and what was diaper. I marveled at how small she was and how she was like the doll Doug had me work with. I undid the tabs and slowly pulled back the diaper. I could see all the liquid poop and I took her two little feet with my hand like I had learned in girl class and lifted her bottom up from the diaper. I then wiped front to back. Dumped the wipe into the diaper, and used another wipe for her backside. I folded up the diaper and put it aside. I then lower her onto a wipe. I unfolded the diaper I had put to the side and positioned it under her, and then spread her legs and did a wipe again front to back again and put the wipe on the old diaper. “Do you use any talc or cream?”

“No, not unless there is a rash. With three babies, I use it only when needed otherwise I would have to take out a loan to diaper the babies.”

I finished packing up the old diaper and threw it away in the diaper bucket. “Well, Alice, we are almost done.” I then attached the new diapers tabs and lifted her by the feet again and grabbed the old wipe and used it to clean my hands and then threw that away. Once I had done that, I blew a raspberry on her tummy. She liked it. “Aren’t you so cute Alice!” I blew another one and she moved her limbs with excitement. I smiled at her and then I pulled her onesie back down and snapped it back in place. Then I grabbed a blanket from the changing table’s shelves and swaddled Alice like I learned in my girl class. I picked her back up in my arms, kissed her cheek. She snuggled into me again and fell asleep.

“Nicely done Samantha. And you swaddled her too. Most girls don’t know how to do that either. You are a very talented young lady. I can see we are going to be great neighbors.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith. This is the first time I have ever changed a real baby. I only have ever done it with dolls before.” I caught myself realizing that I gave away too much information. “I learned with dolls in school.”

“Well, you look like you have been doing it your whole life. It is nice that they still teach baby care in school.”

“Thank you again.” I sat back done on the couch with her making sure to keep my legs together. Although, I was tempted to spread them a little to improve my balance with holding a baby in my hands.

“Well, maybe I can count on you to help me babysit?”

“I’d like that. I didn’t know how I would react to holding a real baby until now, but this is really nice. I love holding a baby. They smell so nice too.” I sniffed her baby. The feeling of holding Alice and knowing I was holding a precious life was something magical and intoxicating. I wanted more.

Mrs. Smith giggled and said, “You are going to make an excellent mother one day.”

“Thanks.” I blushed. But, it was obvious to me that I was digging myself into a hole. Mom would have to help me out of it. But, really, I didn’t care.

“Can I get your help tomorrow morning? I am having some professional photos taken here to send out to relatives. We don’t have any family here and I want to show off my babies.”

I came back to my senses. “You will have to talk it over with my mom,” I said out loud thinking ‘and get have get me out of this hole I am digging for myself.’ “but tomorrow I have class, sadly. I know how tough that is not to have family. We don’t have any family living in town anymore since my grandparents passed away. How old are your babies?”

“Four months.”

I had a thought. “Can you tell me what sizes your girls wear and what size your boy wears?”

“The girls are in three months now. Brian is wearing nine months already. Why?”

“I have some fabric left over from a plaid skirt I made with a Clan Stuart tartan. And some navy blue fabric. I think I can make them matching outfits tonight. I can’t guarantee it, but it would be real nice if you had photos made with matching outfits.”

“That’s so nice of you. I hadn’t thought of doing that. Thank you, but you don’t have to do it.”

“No problem, I would love to do it for you and the babies.” At that moment, I saw my mom drive into the driveway.”

Alice was sleeping. “My Mom’s here. I have to leave now Mrs. Smith. Can I put her in her crib please? I have to hurry before my mother thinks I got a ride with someone else.”

“Yes you may. I will see you tomorrow morning. Bring your mother so I can meet her.”

I gently placed Alice in her crib after giving her a kiss, said goodbye to Mrs. Smith, and ran to intercept Mom at the door.

Mom was just unlocking the back door when I came running up. “Sorry Mom, I was at the new neighbors.”

“Oh good. I have been wanting to meet them. Get in the car and tell me all about it. We’re running late. You look very girly today.”

“Thanks Mom. I hope Cybil will appreciate it. And, I really appreciate you helping me get me these clothes.” I told her everything that happened and what we talked about. “I really dug myself into a hole. Can you come over with me tomorrow and explain it to her. I think it coming from me it will sound a little creepy.”

“Sure Honey, it will give me a chance to know her and to set the record straight for you. You’re right. Sometimes it is best to let the adults explain such things so there is no misunderstanding.”

“I have the best Mom in the world.” When she dropped me off, I hugged her and headed off to class.

During class, I realized I had made a mistake by being too girly. A couple of the boys started to tease me. I was sitting on the school stage swinging my feet waiting for the costumes to be brought out for dressing up that day before we headed out for performances. I had on a pink sweater that my Mom bought because the room was cold. I was looking at my nails and admiring the job I did on painting them that day. There were no imperfections I could find. I liked the color too. It was a nice red. And I had a nice bracelet that Jane lent me that morning saying that it didn’t fit her wrist anymore. I reached in my purse and pulled out a brush and started brushing my hair.

Tom Hinks and Wilson walked up to me and said “Hey cutie boy!” as I sat there. I guess I should expect this kind of treatment sooner or later.

“C’mon guys, you know why I am doing this. It is for a girl with cancer.”

“We know the real reason why. You like being a girl.” I was glad when Mary intervened.

Before I could say anything, Mary walked up and looked at them square in the eyes. “You both were told to leave Sam alone. He is doing this for a dying girl.” Mary has quite a commanding presence and the boys backed down. She is an Alpha female.

“If Sam showed up here in clown face, would you call him a clown, tell him he liked being a clown, and make fun of him, or would you realize he was playing a clown before he performed his act so it was second nature to him before he faced a child that was facing death. All because he wanted to do the best job he could to make her happy and not spoil it with a poor performance.”

Tom Hinks looked beaten back by her logic. “I see your point Mary. Sorry Sam. You are acting like a girl now so you can be a good friend to her later and will stay in character. I guess I would too if I were in your shoes.” I would find out later that Tom got an A in Mrs. Duncan’s class. It was no surprise. He was in my gifted and talented classes a year back.

“Me too. Sorry Sam.” Wilson looked ashamed. He wasn’t smart, but he was Tom’s shadow and took his lead from him. I said “Thank you.” They walked off to get into their costumes for the day.

“Thanks Mary. Thanks for being there for me and being so understanding.”

“No problem. But, you do look very girly today. Any reason why?” I blushed and smiled.

“I am hoping Cybil will enjoy it. And it makes her brushing my hair much easier on me with her being on chemo if I don’t have a skirt to deal with while sitting on her bed. Skirts ride up and people can see my panties. I don’t want to give away any secrets about who I am in case they look at the panties. Plus, I asked my mother to make sure I had clothes to wear that would please her and make her feel good about being a girl.”

Mary looked at me being girly for a moment and didn’t say anything. Her mind was processing something. “Okay. Well, you succeeded nicely. I am proud of your dedication to putting on a good performance.”

Later that day, it was Jane who knocked on the door.

“Hi Cybil. How are you doing? My name is Jane and I am Samantha’s sister.”

“Hi Jane. I’m hanging in there. You are beautiful too just like your sister!”

In behind Jane came Mrs. Allen. “Hi Samantha! Who do we have here? Are you two sisters. You look so much alike.”

Behind her walked in a strange man. “Daddy!” cried Cybil, “You came home!”

“Yes dear,” he rushed to his little girl’s side and hugged her. “I love you sweetheart!”

While they were chatting, Mrs. Allen pulled Jane and I together and whispered, “He doesn’t know about you, Samantha. Who she really is. He is a man’s man and will freak out if he knew. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, okay?” She winked.

We nodded in agreement and winked back.

Then the introductions were made and we chatted for a few minutes.

“Samantha, can I talk you for a moment while Jane talks to Cybil and her dad?”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

In the corridor, Mrs. Allen sat down on one of two empty chairs. I sat down on the other chair and pulled it around so we could face each other. She spilled her guts and was crying. “They are taking her off of chemo. They say the cancer has spread and she only has weeks to live.” I reached out and held her hands. “I am going to try and be here as much as I can, but I run my business all by myself. I can’t stay away for too long. Her dad is going to be staying in a room here next to the hospital so he will be here 24/7. It was arranged by Dr. Ryland, bless him. My husband has gotten a six month paid bonus leave, thank the angels in heaven.” I would later learn that the men on the oil rig took up a collection and donated a week’s vacation so Mr. Allen could by his daughter’s side. Men can be generous and sweet too.

“How can I help? Could I stay her with her longer?”

“No, just be here when as you have been. She only has about two hours a day of energy anyway, and you bring her such joy during that time. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Okay,” I said. “thanks for letting both of us know about Mr. Allen. He seems like a very good man. I respect him. Cybil, I can tell, really loves him. But we should warn the staff not to mention anything”

“Oh, it makes me feel better to hear you say that. I know your heart. I have let Dr. Ryland know, so you don’t need to warn him. I told Nurse Janice and she has spread the word. And I am so blessed that you are willing to do this for her.”

Going out the door that day, Jane said, “That sweater is much more girly than you normally wear.”

“I have been hearing that a lot today. Mom got me the outfit because I wanted a couple of girly outfits. I know it makes Cybil feel better.”

“Why do you think she feels better?”

“Because she can’t dress like this right now. I was thinking it was giving her something to look forward to when she gets better. But, I think that won’t happen now.” Jane could hear the sadness in my voice.

On the drive home, I told Jane what was happening. We stopped to get patterns for baby’s clothes. I got some big buttons and some buttons about a quarter of the size. I got some elastic and other things. Then, I cried all the way home from the fabric store. When we got home, I said I wasn’t hungry and was going to make those outfits to get my mind off Cybil. I worked hard on the baby clothes. I made a cute little jumper pleated skirt for the girls with cute suspenders. I made a suit for Brian with a small vest that had a navy blue back, and the same plaid on the front that the girls had. His vest used small buttons. I then made a beige shirt for him with a fake tie based on the dress that I made for Cybil. So, it looked like a tie but wasn’t. For the girls, I made nice beige blouses with ruffles at the wrists.

I steam pressed the dresses so the pleats held. I couldn’t wait to see them on the babies. My Mom and Dad came in to see how I had done. “Dad, I have had time to think about what you said about her dying. Can I talk to you guys about Grandma?”

“Sure.” They said in unison. They looked relieved that I wanted to talk to them. They didn’t even notice that I sat with them on the couch like a proper young lady with my knees together, feet crossed, my hands in my lap, and good posture.

“How did you handle it Mom?”

“Oh my, I cried every night, and got up and took care of you all. I took it one day at a time. Then after a month, it became easier. Then three more. And then I began to breathe again. I still think about them every day. You kids will do something and I want to rush to the phone and tell them about it. And, then I realize I can’t. So, I tell the wind and pray it takes to them my words where ever they are now. And every so often, I hear an answer. Something inside me says they know. It will be the same way with you and Cybil.”

“Then, maybe the babies next door might be the best thing for me. I will be sure to share them with Cybil and then that way, I will know that when I hold them, I will be with Cybil again. Anyway, I just want you both to know that I won’t hold it in this time. I might work on something for the moment, like these outfits, but I promise to come and talk it out with you. I am sorry I hurt you both after Grandpa died. You didn’t deserve that. I am so lucky to have you both as parents. I don’t want to forget you ever again.”

“You have grown up so much Sam. Thank you for talking to us first. And yes, I agree, taking care of those babies would be good for you.” mom said.

“We were worried.” Dad said. “I love you.” Mom said. Dad said, “I do too.” Mom and Dad hugged me and sent me off to bed after checking to see if I was hungry.

I woke up the next morning, went downstairs, got a big breakfast, and went upstairs and got showered and dressed. I grabbed my purse, checked it, and went downstairs to get the outfits. Mom had gotten up early after hearing me and said to me, “Ready to go talk to Mrs. Allen?”

“Yes Mom.” I showed her the outfits. “They are darling! She will love them. You are such a thoughtful girl … I mean boy.”

“It’s okay Mom, I’m not insulted. Let’s go clear this mess up.”

As we walked over, we could see her in the window. Mrs. Smith waved excitedly at us. We climbed the stairs this time to her front door. Before we knocked, she opened the door and greeted us. “How nice to see you again Samantha. This must be your mother. Nice to meet you. I am Stella Allen. Your name is Pamela. What a lovely name. I had an aunt named Pamela. My husband is upstairs sleeping. He works nights at the factory. Come in and sit down. I have to take care of the babies while we talk though. We have a family portrait session coming up in three hours and I have so much to do. Listen to me, all I do is talk. Anyway, Samantha, be a love and change Carol for me while I talk to your mom.”

“There’s a good girl. Your daughter is so helpful. You must be so proud of her. Pamela, I was so thrilled when your daughter came over yesterday. I was so worried that there would be no little girls I could count on to hire and help me. There seem to be only rough boys in this neighborhood and I don’t want boys around my girls looking at their private parts. You know what I mean. They are filled with nasty hormones. Not like us girls. We don’t get lust filled looking at a baby boy. No, not at all.”

Stella went on and on, and Mom could hardly get a word in. I sat next to mom, drew my feet up, and snuggled against her side. It felt wonderful to be under her wing. She put her arm around me without thinking about it. I was amused that Mom couldn’t fix the problem. I was secretly happy that I might be forced to be a girl.

“Oh Samantha, I really could use your help. I am willing to pay you $3.00 an hour. And all I really want is for you to watch them for an hour or so in the morning or in the evening so I can take a nap. We’ll work it out. Are you interested?”

I looked at my Mom for her to see if she would go for it now, but Mom looked exhausted from all the small talk. Mom had been trapped too. Mom sighed and said, “Stella, sure she can do it. I’ll have her come over before school or before dinner when she can. But, right now Cybil comes first. I know that you will be very happy with her helping you. She helps me around the house all the time cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry. Just so you know, we got word yesterday that Cybil won’t last long.”

“I am so sorry to hear that. Samantha, dear, you are such a brave young lady. Your mother and father must be very proud of you. But I am very happy to know that your skills include cooking, cleaning, and laundry. I am impressed.”

“Yes, Mrs. Smith. I am looking forward to helping you and the triplets. I just love them. And, I couldn’t do any of this with Cybil without my parents’ love and support.”

As we left the house after some more profuse chattering, we got to the car and got in. Mom said, “I was exhausted just trying to listen to her. I thought she would never shut up. I am sorry I let out all of your talents but couldn’t bring up your real sex.”

“So, I guess I am stuck being Samantha outside the house?” I was thrilled, but I sounded disappointed.

“Yeah, until we can find a girl to replace you. Doug thinks the neighborhood will change over in the next two years. We talked about it last night. He thought this might happen to you. Jane is too busy to help. Do you mind?”

“It’s okay. I need those babies. I need to have some anchor to life. It will give me something to look forward to after Cybil ...” my voice trailed off and I fought back tears.

“Honey, if it too hard for you to help Cybil, you can call it off. Mrs. Allen will understand.”

“No mom. I have to see this through or else I will be running from difficult emotions and situations my whole life. Doug is right. He has been telling me that my empathy is my greatest strength and I should embrace it. And I mean to do just that.”

“It’s okay for a kid to run, you know. It is the adults who have to stay.”

“I know. But Doug is right too. And he knows I have you and Dad too. I can do it.”

“I love that young man. He has a big heart just like you.”

“I know Mom. I know. But it is Doug who has opened my heart to be like his. Not the other way around. I was depressed and selfish until he became my friend and showed me a better way to look at life.”

“I don’t know what we would do without him either.” Mom said. “So many times he has explained something we totally missed and didn’t understand.”

She went on to say, “Did you know that it was Doug who convinced me to turn of the television and for us to have nightly dinner conversations?”

“No. I hadn’t thought about it, but yes, that has been recent. I like how it frustrates Robert who always wants to watch sports.”

“Don’t tell Robert, but I feel the same way.” We giggled.

A few days later, after spending my time with Cybil, the customary knock came on the door. I turned expecting to see my Mom or Jane ready to take me home. I shouted, “Oh Daddy, you came to pick me up today.” I was so giddy that I ran up to him and threw my arms around him.

Mr. Allen rose to greet us. “That is quite a daughter you have there Mr. Miller!”

Dad hugged me back and couldn’t move. And my Dad didn’t care that I reacted totally like a girl when he came.

“My name’s Paul.”

“I’m Derek”

Mr. Allen came up and shook Dad’s hand because I was still hugging him with all my might.

“Daddy, I want you to meet Cybil. Cybil, this is my Daddy.” I beamed with pride.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Miller. Thank you for letting Samantha visit. She has made my days so happy.”

“It is my pleasure. I love my daughter very much and her heart. She is really Daddy’s girl!” He leaned down and kissed me on the head. I couldn’t get that smile off of my face, not that I wanted to remove it. I was with my Daddy. We spent about ten minutes chatting and poor Cybil feel asleep. We quietly said goodbye and went on our way.

I almost skipped out of the hospital holding my Dad’s hand. I was grateful that he let me hold his hand. I liked how strong and gentle it was. I felt so much like a special girl.

“Well, since you are my little girl for the moment, let’s go get some ice cream.”

My grin said it all.

We went to the Ice Cream Shoppe and I got a small fudge ripple. Dad got a huge scoop of chocolate. He had to wait on me to finish.

As we left, he put his arm around me like I was the most wonderful girl in the world. “Princess, I just want to tell you that you are beautiful. What you are doing for that precious little girl is the bravest and most noble thing I have ever seen.”

“Thank you Daddy. Thank you for letting me be Samantha for Cybil. I won’t always be your little girl after this, but right now I couldn’t think of anything else that I would rather be.”

“Me too.” Dad hugged me back.

On the way out of the Ice Cream Shoppe, I asked him about Mom’s birthday.

“Dad,” I want to do something special for Mom’s birthday.

“Sure, Sam, what are you thinking.”

“I’ve talked it over with Mrs. Duncan, and I am going to take a day off from Class and just do something for special for Mom.”

“Like what?”

“Make her breakfast in bed. And make a nice dress for her. Do you know a dress she would like to buy?”

“No. But, I have a suggestion instead.”

“What? Help her do a family photo album. She has been talking about doing one forever, but hasn’t had time to do one.”

A couple of doors down from where we were was a Hallmark store. So, we stopped in.

“Hello sir, can I help you?” a nice lady with reading spectacles looked out from the cash register as we entered.

“Yes, my daughter here wants to help her mom do a family photo album for her mom.”

“How many photos are we talking about?”

“Well, that part I know. The box we have has at least one hundred and fifty. Most are five by seven. We have some old black and white photos. Candid wedding photos taken by friends. The usual assortment.”

So, for the next few minutes, the nice lady and I found albums and pages to go with them. An assortment of stickers and other things to doll up the pages. And we left the shop.

Two days later, I woke up early. Dressed neutral per Doug’s suggestion, went downstairs to fix breakfast, and then upstairs to wake up my Mom with a breakfast tray with a birthday card I made. I ran downstairs and brought Dad a tray too. I cooked her eggs, buttered toast, bacon, and coffee. I also had made her cinnamon buns from scratch. And, fresh squeezed orange juice. She was impressed.

“And, Mom, after you are done. I will clean up the dishes. Then, I have the dining room table set up with your birthday present.”

“You mean I won’t be opening a present?”

“You’ll see.” I winked. “I am off to take a shower and get dressed as Samantha so Mrs. Smith doesn’t find out the truth. I’ll take the dishes and trays down. Mom, you will know what we will be doing this morning when you get downstairs.”

After I stepped out of the shower and was drying off, I heard my Mom shout upstairs, “Sam?”

I opened the door, “Yes Mom?”

“Thank you for such a wonderful gift! Hurry up, I can’t wait to do this with you. Your Dad says he will do the dishes for us. So, just come on down!”

Jane poked her head out the door. “What did you get Mom for her birthday?”

“Go on down and see. I bet you will want to join us!” I beamed as I headed into my room with nothing on but a towel.

“You know, Sam, from this angle, I could swear you are developing a slight figure. Maybe it is just because you are playing Samantha so much this summer.”

I got dressed as Samantha, combed my hair out, and headed downstairs. I wore some cute shorts and one of the t-shirts that mom got me and my pink tennis shoes. Jane and Mom were already at work. They were sorting photos by years and by the event that year. I could tell that Dad’s suggestion was spot on.

“Sam, this was such a thoughtful gift! How did you know?”

“Dad. He told me all about you wanting to do a photo album. How can I help?”

“Well, here are some post it notes. Go through each stack we have been creating and write down the people in the photo. If you don’t know them, ask me.”

I started working the first stack. There were photos of Mom as a young girl with a friend. I wrote her name down and asked her who the friend was and what year the photo was taken. As I wrote down the information, Jane looked over and commented “Sam, when did your handwriting improve. You write so nicely now.”

I answered. “Oh, Doug got on my case one day. He said if I was going to be a lawyer, my handwriting was fine. But, he didn’t care what the popular myth was, I needed to write well so I could avoid law suits if I became a doctor. So, he insisted we both work on our handwriting. I liked that he worked on his too to show me it mattered.”

Dad said, “Well, it shows. I have been admiring your handwriting over the last year Sam. I just thought they were teaching you how to write better in school.”

Mom giggled, “So you all think it was Doug, huh?”

“It wasn’t?” I said perplexed.

“I was telling Doug he needed to improve his hand writing after he left us a note one day about where you two were going. He hung his head down and said in the cutest way, ‘Yes Mom.’ Sometimes, Doug needs a little mothering too Sam. And he takes it so well too.”

After two hours, I was happy with the progress we were making. “It is sad that I can’t share this with Cybil. Obviously, there are no photos of me as a little girl that I can share with her.”

“Well, there is one.” Mom said.

“What?”

“Oh yes, you were around two years old. Jane decided that she was going to dress you up with her girlfriends. She did your nails and hair. Your hair wasn’t long. But it did look like girl’s hair because she put a bow in it. Here, let me look for that photo.”

Mom shuffled through the photo box and found it. I looked cute. I had an old dress on that my sister had worn years earlier. Jane said they found it in her closet. I had on lipstick and they had over done my eyes. The had done my nails too.

Jane remarked, “Yeah, Mom, I remember that. Sam walked up to you and said, ‘Look at me Mom, I am a girl now!’ Robert was such a jerk too. After you took the photo he made such a huge stink. Then Grandma came in and yanked Sam by the hand to get him into the bathroom so she could remove all the makeup and girl stuff off of him because she thought it was wrong too. Sam cried all night and kept asking Grandma what he had done wrong. Grandpa just laughed it off. He told Grandma it really didn’t matter and just to leave the boy alone. I think it was the cancer talking. She was pretty ill at that point. The medication made her pretty irritable.”

I thought to myself that this is when I must have decided to keep the secret to myself. I tried not to cry, but a tear rolled down my face. I dried it up before anyone noticed. I covered myself just in case by asking if I could show the photo to Cybil.

Later, we picked up Doug at the school and headed to the hospital. After she dropped me off, I showed the photo to Doug.

“So, you think this is where your trauma started? I think you are right. Well, good then. We have a point in time that you knew you were a girl, expressed it, and felt rejected. We’ll have a sleep over soon to discuss it.”

“Yeah, I said. And, I have something to share with Cybil now from my past.” I clutched the photo as though it was my ticket to being a woman at last.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner (revised March 2017)

Chapter 9 – Crossing the Rubicon Together

The day I spent with Cybil was awesome. I let her brush my hair. With her off the chemo, she could sit up in bed and I could sit on the side of her bed properly now without having to shift all over the place. She brushed my hair and we talked. She loved seeing the old photo of me as a ‘girl.’ I told her about the babies that moved in next door to us and how much fun they were going to be as I began to babysit them.

“Samantha, would you like to have children?” she asked sadly.

“I would love to have them. I want a bunch of children.” I answered with a little more passion than I expected.

“Have you thought about what it would be like to be pregnant and give birth. I do. I hope I can one day. I would love to be a mommy.” I could see that she was mourning what the cancer was stealing from her.

“I afraid I won’t be able to get pregnant. I have a medical problem. But, I can adopt.” Somehow, it made sense to say I was in the same boat.

“You have a medical problem?” a concerned Cybil asked.

“Yes, it is impossible for me to get pregnant. But that is okay. I can adopt babies that someone else doesn’t want. And there are lots of those. Or, they can take something from my body and let a woman be pregnant for me.” I didn’t think about what I just said because I would have been on the floor laughing to hard if I had.

“Does it make you sad?”

“Yes, sometimes. But a good friend has been teaching me how to reach out to others and being part of their lives. When I do, I feel better.”

“You mean like me.”

I knew I couldn’t lie to her now. “Yes, exactly like you! Being your friend is one of the best things that ever happened to me. I love you Cybil.”

“I love you too.” She was happy.

“So who’s your friend, I would like to meet her.”

“My friend Doug is a boy. You already know his dad. His dad is Dr. Ryland.”

“You know Dr. Ryland! It isn’t because of your medical problem?” she said with a tinge of worry.

“Oh no, he lives across the street from me. Doug spends time with my family when Dr. Ryland is busy helping girls like you. We love having Doug around.”

“Do you think Doug will be your boyfriend one day?”

“No, we are more like family.” But, it got me to thinking about who Doug was to me. Maybe I should rethink it.

Her dad was half dozing in a corner, but he had heard enough to be touched.

“I am sorry to hear that you can’t have babies Samantha. I wish there was something we could do for you.”

“It’s okay Mr. Allen. It’s a blessing, not a curse. It is hadn’t been for my medical condition, I would never have met Cybil.” He never asked why I said that thankfully.

We giggled and played for the rest of the afternoon. She taught me how to do the Cat’s Cradle. She told me how she used to do it with her friends before she got sick.

Before I exited for the day, I asked, “Cybil is there anything you miss doing?”

“Singing. I love to sing.”

“I could bring my guitar and play for you!”

“You play guitar? Oh, that would be wonderful. Yes, please bring it!”

“What is your favorite song? “

“It is from Beauty and the Beast. I love that song about there being something that there wasn’t there before.”

I had a sleep over with Doug that night. We got to talking about the photo and my progress.

“How do you feel about finding out your Grandma hurt you?”

“Conflicted. I loved her. But, she didn’t want me to be a girl. And that part really hurts. That pain must have shut me down until you came along.”

“Yes, rejection can shut a child down. Especially one with Gender Identity disorder. This points exactly to where I suspected I would find you declaring your gender identity and also why you kept it a secret. I suspect that in helping Cybil, you have found a mechanism to help erase that pain and find your real identity.”

Doug got more serious. “The paths before you are your choice. Yes, you want to be a girl. But you also have the option to remain a boy. The things I have had you learn have given you a foundation to get more out of life. Playing music isn’t gender specific. Sewing isn’t either. Society assigns roles to men and women, but we can do those roles and not feel that we are violating our gender identity. Doing the dishes doesn’t make me want to put on a dress. Changing a tire doesn’t have to make me feel like a man either. Biology plays a role in that as a man, I will have greater strength to change a tire. But, I have here a copy of an interview with Wendy Carlos that I think may give you lots of insight as to how you feel. Read it and tell me what you think.”

It took about ten minutes. But I saw myself in her story. “Thank you Doug. This helps. Based on her success, the future really looks good for me. And I can see that I am not alone in my pain too.”

“Yes it does. It was her story that told me much of what I needed to do to help you. Some cases I read about in journals had some change their sex and want to be playboy models. They focused on the external. When they miss the mark, they fall apart and get just as depressed as before. Often times worse off than before. I want better for you. I like Wendy’s story because she just wanted to be herself, warts and all. That is because her self-worth wasn’t dependent on her ability to be just female, but on her craft and abilities as a musician as well. So, that is another reason I have had you working on becoming aware of your capacity to do things well, like sewing, cooking, ice skating, and school.”

The next day I got dressed as Samantha at Doug’s. I went home and loaded up the car with the guitar and went to help Mrs. Allen. I learned the hard way to watch how to not change a boy’s diaper. Mrs. Smith just laughed saying it happens to every girl, even to her, because “Us girls are used to different plumbing than boys. We aren’t expecting a fountain when we are used to a river.” Before we left to class, I quickly changed into dry clothes. I passed along to my Mom that Mrs. Smith promised me that proofs would be there soon in the mail, but that the outfits fit perfectly and looked cute on Alice and Carol and very handsome on Brian.

I arrived nearly an hour early to class. Mom had lots to do. Sitting like a proper lady outside the school room today, I looked through sheet music we had picked up for the movie, Beauty and The Beast. I remember liking the movie and crying as a little kid with my mother and my sister. My brother thought I was nuts. I cried mostly because Mom and Jane were crying and I figured I was supposed to cry also. Now I cry because it gets to me too when I see the beast transform into the prince. And I can see myself being Belle too. Belle loves books and so do I.

I got to thinking about Wendy and how being Samantha for Cybil was freeing me to explore and find the real me. The one I want to be. She was helping me answer so many questions.

Mary showed up early again. “Hi Samantha.”

“Oh hi Mary,” I was too lost in thought to pick up on her calling me by my girl name, “you don’t happen to sing do you? Cybil wants me play songs for her on my guitar.”

“You play guitar!” Came two voices, hers, and one behind me. It was Mrs. Duncan.

Mrs. Duncan came around to the other side of the table to join Mary. They both looked at other and then me. And, again in unison they said, “Let’s hear you play!”

I pulled out my guitar from its case under the table, tuned it, and played ‘Nights in White Satin’ by Justin Hayward for them. I didn’t sing it. Funny how I can prance around like a girl without feeling embarrassed and feel awkward singing. Just more pieces to a puzzle called Samantha, I guess.

I pretend to love Rick Wakeman because of my hair. But it is Justin Hayward who has my heart. So many of his lyrics talk about how I feel. I play a song he sings called ‘Forever Autumn’ every chance I get and it is the only song I will sing because it moves me. I love the imagery of the song. Anyway, what was remarkable is that my legs stayed together as I played. I played ‘Nights in White Satin’ as a girl with no hint of boy. They applauded. I nodded my head as though I had bowed.

“You are a very talented girl … I mean boy Sam. Play us something more.” Mrs. Duncan said with pride in her student.

I thought for a moment and started to play one of my favorite pieces. Mrs. Duncan smiled as she heard the opening notes of Classical Gas. Mary had never it heard before but seemed to like the playful tune. Both of them started to sing while I played “Over the Rainbow.” I applauded them when I finished.”

“Sam, I would like to hear you sing too. Is there a song or two you like to sing?”

I began the riff for “Forever Autumn” by Jeff Wayne. I could tell they liked the tune but had never heard it before. I began to sing it and they listened astonished not only by the lyrics but that I wasn’t aware of how much the lyrics applied to my life right then.

After singing a refrain, I stopped.

“Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away...”

I stopped. Collected my thoughts. I didn’t want to sing the next lyric, so I switched to another song to cheer me up.

“Here is a song I like too,” and sang out as I started to play, “In my world, it heaven when you are close to me …”

I continued to play “In My World” by Justin Hayward and ended with the chorus …

“If you knew the changes I feel that you put me through
And you do, I see in your eyes that you really do
And it's true, it happened so fast that it must be true
In my world, it's heaven on earth when you're near”

“I like your choices for music, Sam, but I am afraid I don’t recognize those songs.” I wondered if both Mary and Mrs. Duncan were considering the choices I made in music because they both seemed lost in thought. Mrs. Duncan continued, “But they are still very nice. You aren’t too bad a singer either Sam. Too bad you will lose that nice alto voice after you have after puberty. You should get some training. Maybe Mary will help you? But consider singing too when you play guitar.”

“Thank you Mrs. Duncan, that is kind of you to say. I love the songs written and song by Justin Hayward of the Moody Blues. I will consider what you say about singing.” I motioned to Mary to come sit next to me. “Please, sit here next to me Mary.” I handed her the sheet music. “Please keep it visible to me while I play and you sing, okay? Perfect.” I began to play “Something That Wasn't There Before” and she began to sing beautifully to the music. One could easily hear that her voice had been trained. I would like to say I didn’t make mistakes, but I did. Mary was patient thankfully. I liked working with her. She has a tender heart like Doug’s. We tried it again and the mistakes seemed to resolve themselves. We smiled at each other feeling a sense of accomplishment.

“Oh that is lovely girls, I mean …”

“It’s okay Mrs. Duncan. It’s a complement to my acting skills. I love your singing voice Mary. Do you really think we sound that good Mrs. Duncan?”

“Oh yes! I wish I had found out weeks ago, I might have included you two in a musical sketch.”

“I would have enjoyed that.” As I put away my guitar I continued, “Please, can you come today Mary? Cybil is … “ I started to cry and choked on the words “ … off chemo and dying.” I turned back after putting the guitar on the table and broke down sobbing into my hands as the crushing reality of losing Cybil hit me. I truly loved my friend. Mary put her arms around me. “Yes, I will.” She said with tears running down her face too.

After, I finished crying. “Oh look at me! I messed up my makeup. I can’t let her know I was crying.” I had no idea of how girl like I must have sounded, but I didn’t care.

“Don’t worry Samantha, I will help you get cleaned up before we go. Cybil won’t even notice. Trust me.” She gave me a big smile and held me. There was no hint of boy in how I reacted to her embrace either. Nor did I notice she called me by my girl name right away.

“Thank you,” as I dried my tears with a Kleenex from my purse.

Before I could say anything more, Mrs. Duncan said, “I think I am going to come inside with you today Samantha. If you have to leave, you will have someone there to rescue you. Screw school policy.”

“Thank you Mrs. Duncan. I keep trying to be brave, but it is getting to me I think.”

That days performances went quickly for the class. I lost my self in them to keep my mind off the pain. Doug did a great job of directing and coordinating us. At the end of the day, I sat dressed as Samantha once more in front of a dressing room mirror. Mary had a couple of the girls from the troop working on me. I relaxed and let them work imaging that I was in a beauty parlor getting pampered. And I was too after a fashion. They washed my face and dried it. Then they applied foundation and went to work on my face. I didn’t even think about what they were doing, I just watched my face change thinking about how much I didn’t want it to turn into a man’s. I was grateful that they tweezed my eyebrows too. I guess they forgot I was a boy. Although, I didn’t care if it made me look more girlish. They combed out my brown hair and little by little the face of a young girl took shape. By the time they were done, I looked cute and like I hadn’t shed a tear. Then they parted my hair, which felt so nice, on the side giving me a nice cascade of hair on my shoulders and no hair on my forehead. A few bobby pins in my hair to keep it in place, and it was set. It started me to thinking. My hair had grown really long over the years. I wondered if it was time for a haircut. Where would I go? Maybe? I thought of something special I would like to do with my hair. I smiled at the idea. I need to talk to Doug.

I thanked and hugged each one of the girls. They wished me luck with Cybil. I hadn’t noticed until I hugged them that they had been crying as they worked on me. What I was doing for Cybil was really touching so many around me. It helped ease the pain of have to carry the burden myself. It made me feel good to be a girl. We crowded into Mrs. Duncan’s car, Doug, Mary, and I went to the hospital and prepared to give the performance of a lifetime.

I told Mary one of my ideas on the drive over. Once there, we visited her mom briefly who made the other arrangements that went with my idea. I withheld one idea wishing to talk it over with Doug.

Cybil cried out for the whole hospital to hear, “Hi Mary, it is so good to see you. This is my Dad.”

“Nice to meet you Mary, where is Samantha? Is she not coming today?” asked her dad pensively.

“Samantha is out making arrangements with the nursing station so we can go into the common area so she and I can sing with your daughter. I so appreciate being a part of Samantha’s life. She is such an angel.” Mary said.

“Yes, I am beginning to see it myself too. She has a heart of gold.” Mr. Allen said.

“You sing Mary? I sing too!” said Cybil.

I knocked on the door and came in, “I’ve set up outside. They are coming to take Cybil out in a wheelchair.” I bent down to kiss Cybil a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Nurse Janice tells me I can make a real dress for you if you would like.”

“Oh yes, please, can we have the same dress too.”

“You bet! I love that idea. Anything for my friend.”

The nurse came in and took Cybil out to the common area where our troop did the play about a month beforehand. I hadn’t realized that so much time had passed.

Mrs. Duncan had been warned not to give my real sex away to Cybil’s dad. She came up to us. “Girls, I am ready for you. Nice to see you again Cybil. I am Mrs. Duncan. I don’t know if you remember me, but I am the girl’s teacher. I brought them here the day you met Samantha. My, you are a pretty girl.”

“Nice to meet you Mrs. Duncan. This is my Dad, Mr. Allen.” They shook hands.

Mr. Allen said, “Thank you for coming Mrs. Duncan. You will never know how much this means to my family. Without you, Samantha wouldn’t have come into our lives.”

We all sat in a circle of chairs and one wheelchair. I began to play while Mary and Cybil sang her favorite song. I noticed a piano and said I could play it by ear and was much better at it. So we quickly rearranged things. The group started to call out tunes and I would play it as best I could. Those who could would sing all sorts of Disney tunes. Soon, all sorts of patients came to the area to join in. By the end of twenty minutes, there was laughter and joyful sounds that did my heart good. And quite a nice sized audience. Cybil was clearly enjoying the performance too. Mrs. Allen came into the area and was surprised to find her daughter there but I could tell was crying and smiling at the same time. The joy on Mr. and Mrs. Allen’s face was transparent as they looked at their girl. The gift I was giving them was beyond mere words. About that time, my Mom came in to see what was going on. I saw her and smiled at her. She came over to sit next to me on the piano bench. She even began to sing some of the tunes she knew. I could tell she was so proud of me. Even Doug showed up and enjoyed the impromptu concert.

Everyone sat and chatted away in the common area after the mini-concert. It was Mr. Allen’s first chance in a while to have adult talk. After Cybil was taken to her room, the nurse came back and said that she was out like a light.

I turned to Mrs. Allen and said, “Can we go in and take some quick dress measurements?”

So, the two of us quietly took measurements. Mrs. Allen took the measurements directly and I wrote them down. To Mrs. Allen’s surprise, I took the measuring tape and took measurements of Cybil’s head and the distance from the top of her head down to her neck.

“Why are you doing that?” she whispered to me.

“You’ll see.” I winked at her. I had an idea he wanted to share with Doug. I knew that Doug would be the kind of person to find the answer.

After a quick trip to the fabric store for supplies on the way home, we had a nice family dinner.

“Doug, can you find out something for me?” I said.

“What do you want to know?”

“How much of my hair will I have to cut to make a wig for Cybil?”

Jane, Mom, and Dad gasped. They knew how much I loved my hair.

“It’s down past my shoulder blades now. I think I can cut it and still have a lot of hair. What do you all think?”

Jane was the first, “I love the idea. Cybil will be so happy.” She began to silently cry.

Everyone was smiles and tears.

“This is really beyond your talents Sam, but I love the idea and it is the sweetest thing I have ever heard.” Said Mom. “I want to find a professional who can style your hair afterwards too while Doug will help you find someone to make the wig.”

Doug went home to talk to his dad who knew someone who could help in the area. He made a phone call that night and then crossed the street to give me the good news around 10:30. He will be here early tomorrow morning.

Doug found me all dressed up making the outfit. “Why are you in the dress already?” he whispered. I was breaking protocol by not being Sam.

“I am afraid of the next door neighbor coming to the door and finding Samuel, not Samantha. Mom and Dad know that is why I am dressed as Samantha at the moment.”

“Makes sense as long as you aren’t pushing it. The wigmaker will see what you need to do to make a wig for Cybil. But he feels from my description of your hair that you will have a lot left. I have explained that she is not expected to live long and this is an errand of mercy. He was very willing to help and drop what he was doing to come here. I could hear him crying on the other side of the phone when I told him what you were doing.”

“Bless you Doug.” I said. “Thank you for making my life worth living.” I meant it.

The next morning, Doug ushered in the wig maker when he came. I gave Mr. Richardson, the wigmaker, the measurements I had taken off of Cybil. He measured my hair which fell to past my shoulder blades almost to the small of my back. He said he could do it by noontime and I would still look like a pretty girl after he cut mine. He then bunched it up hair into a pony tail and cut it at about where my shoulders met the bottom of my neck. I still looked like a girl, but my hair was halved. He took the hair he cut off of me and started to weave it into the skull cap he had set up on a table. I was amazed at how fast he was working. He was clearly a man possessed who knew what was at stake. Dad came in to see what I was doing. He smiled and said how proud he was that I would put others before myself. After a few hours, I would have a lovely wig.

Mom came in from an early morning visit to the salon and said, “I have an appointment for you at the salon, they know what you are doing and want to help. I got a picture here for the wig maker of how they are going to make you look so as he does the wig, your hairstyle will and the wig will roughly be the same.”

It was my first trip to a salon. Over the next two hours, I was primped, pampered, and turned into a beautiful young lady. I walked out of the salon with Mom feeling gorgeous, except for my outfit. That was still at home.

When we got back, we found the wig maker almost done. I went upstairs and put on the dress I made the night before. I put on perfume and a few accessories my mom had given me. Two beautiful clip on ear rings later, I was almost ready. I grabbed my purse, checked it, and ran downstairs with a spring in my step.

Downstairs, Mom zipped up my dress for Cybil. I found the wig was ready. The wigmaker gave me a wig cap and briefly taught me how to put it on Cybil using a foam head he had. And then had me practice putting it on and then the wig. I hugged the wigmaker and thanked him. He was a little teary eyed. The hairstyle he did was close to that of mine. We boxed it up and put Cybil’s dress in a small garment bag. We then piled into the car and headed to the hospital. When we got there, Mr. and Mrs. Allen were waiting for us. Mom must have contacted the hospital. I came in the room and said, “Hello Cybil.” She opened her eyes and said, “Hi best friend.”

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What did you do to your hair? I loved your long hair. But it looks very nice. And your nails, they are so pretty. I love your dress too.”

The nurse came in and opened the blinds.

“I have made a dress for you just like the one I am wearing, but I have a surprise first. Please sit up in bed and close your eyes.”

I put the wig cap on Cybil’s head as I had been taught. I looked down and saw that Mrs. Allen had already done Cybil’s nails, so she at least must have been tipped off. By whom I wondered? Then I pulled the wig out of the box and put it on Cybil and adjusted it as Mr. Richardson had shown me. Then I held a large mirror in front of Cybil.

“Open your eyes Cybil and look into the mirror.” I said.

Cybil opened her eyes. They grew wide as saucers as she saw she had hair. But not just any hair. It was like “Samantha’s hair.”

She looked up at me and then back at the mirror. “We look like sisters!”

“I would love to be your sister!” I kissed her on the cheek.”

Mr. Allen looked at me, “Is that your hair in the wig?” I nodded yes. I have never seen a man’s man cry before, but he started to cry. Mrs. Allen looked at him and smiled. She had kept the secret between us girls. He sat back down so his little girl didn’t see him cry. He looked at me and smiled the most genuine smile I had seen all day. He mouthed the words ‘Thank you.’ I beamed a smile back to him and mouthed the words ‘You’re Welcome.’

“Would you like to put on your dress now?” I said to Cybil.

“Oh yes!”

“Well, you know, I need a surprise too. So, your mom and the nurse are going to put you in the dress I made for us that is like the one I am wearing. And when they are done, you will come out to the common area where I will enjoy the surprise of seeing you in it for the first time. And then we will have something to eat like we were going out on the town. Okay?”

“Oh, yes. I am going to look pretty just like you Samantha!” I blushed and smiled.

“She’s right Samantha. Cute and pretty.” said Mr. Allen.

I walked out of the room basking in the glow of them thinking I was pretty. I would have loved to dress Cybil myself, but Mrs. Allen would appropriately see it as wrong. I made my way to where Mr. Allen, her Mom, Jane, and Doug were sitting. I was happy to see my Dad arrive a few minutes later too. He must have driven over after we had left. I gave him a hug and he kissed his little princess. He was so proud of me. I could feel it. “I love my pretty and special girl.” Dad said.

After a few minutes that seemed like an hour. Mrs. Allen wheeled Cybil out in her new dress and wig. I oohed and awed over how pretty she looked and said what a nice surprise to see her in the same dress as I had on. She giggled and laughed like we were girlfriends going out on the town who had just run into each other out on the town. Cybil looked so beautiful and everyone came over to complement her on her hair and dress. She felt like a million bucks.

We gathered at a table they had set up for us and Cybil was wheeled up to it. We had a nice lunch. And we talked about small stuff. Cybil felt so important sitting next to me. So did I.

She looked up at me and said, “I like us looking like sisters. You are the best sister I ever had.”

I leaned over and kissed my sister on the cheek. “I love being your sister Cybil!”

At the end, I said, “Cybil, would you like visit a special place in the hospital that I bet you would love to see?”

“What is that?”

“The baby nursery.”

“Oh yes, thank you. I would love to see it.”

All of us wheeled the young girl down to the window of the nursery. They had a ramp there set up so her chair was as tall as the bottom of the window. Cybil looked into the nursery and saw the babies in their incubators. She spent a pleasant unrushed time staring at all the babies commenting on all the babies and how small they looked.

After a while giving her a chance to soak it in, I told her, “I have another special surprise for you Cybil, come with us.”

Then we went down a corridor and Nurse Janice directed us into a room with a woman looking at a black and white television screen and holding an object in her had hand on a pregnant woman’s belly that was glistening with a clear fluid.

“Hi Cybil. My name is Valerie, the pregnant woman said. I was told you wanted to know what it was like to be pregnant. I have a baby in my tummy and I want you to see what it looks like in there.”

Cybil was wide eyed and watched the television as the technician described to her what she was seeing.

“Can I feel your tummy Valerie?”

“Of course you can, but let the technician clean up my tummy and you can see what my tummy feels like.”

The technician cleaned up her stomach and Valerie moved into a special chair where Cybil could come up and feel her tummy.

She placed her small hands on Valerie’s big belly. “I felt the baby move Mommy! I felt the baby move! Did you feel it Valerie?”

“Yes I did. It was wonderful. I love being pregnant. I enjoy the feeling of life growing in me.”

“What are going to name your baby?”

“I am going to name her Sarah for her first name and she will inherit my last name of Taylor. But I haven’t chosen a middle name yet. Would you help me chose a middle name for my baby, Cybil?”

“Is her daddy okay with her naming the baby Valerie?” asked Mrs. Allen.

“Oh yes, he told me to tell Cybil he wants her to give the baby a good middle name.”

“Oh yes, my favorite name in the whole world is my best friend’s name, my sister’s name, Samantha. I chose Samantha!” Cybil was clearly excited and happy.

I fought back tears. Everyone did. I lost the battle for a moment. I smiled at Cybil approvingly. “Thank you Cybil.”

Valerie said, “Thank you Cybil. What a pretty name. I will name my baby will be Sarah Samantha Taylor. “

“When are you going to have your baby?”

“She is due on September 21st.”

“Oh, I hope to see her.”

“I hope you do too.”

Before we left and while Valerie and Cybil were talking, I walked over to the lady standing in the doorway watching us and said, “I am so grateful for you and Mary helping me do this. You have a wonderful daughter. And thank you very much too for all you have done too in making sure it happened.”

She said, “Mary really admires you Samantha. She says you really are a special girl. And I wouldn’t have missed this for all the tea in China.”

“I admire Mary too. She is someone I know I can trust.”

I returned to be with Cybil. As we walked back to her room, Cybil said to me, “You must be sad that you will never be able to have a baby in your tummy because of your medical condition.”

My mother looked at me with a very amused expression on her face.

“That’s okay Cybil. I have recently discovered I really love babies. I think I am going to grow up to be a baby doctor. That way I can help those who can give birth to babies have healthy babies. And then I can watch those babies grow up.”

Cybil said, “You will make a good doctor, I just know it. And those babies you are going to care for will teach you how to be a caring doctor too.”

Mrs. Allen looked at me enjoying the conversation we were having much the same way my mother was and said, “I think she is right. You have a great deal of compassion for people, particularly women. Those are qualities that will serve you well.”

A couple of weeks later, class had ended. After daily visits to Cybil and seeing her fade away, I got a knock on the door at 11:00 in the evening. It was the knock I was dreading. It was Dr. Ryland who said, “Get dressed Samantha and come with me to the hospital.”

My Mom got dressed and went with me. I dressed quickly. Mom fixed me up so I would be more than passable for Mr. Allen. But, I noticed that wasn’t hard to do. We both headed out the door with Dr. Ryland. We arrived at the hospital and I was thankful for his parking space being so close to the hospital door.

We rushed up to ICU where Cybil was. She was in terrible pain, but was trying to be strong for her parents who were at her bedside. I could see her life force ebbing away. I came in and held her hand.

“Hi Cybil. I’m here.”

She weakly said to me, “I’m sorry, I think it is my time to go. I am going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too. You are the best friend I have ever had. And I love being your sister.” I fought back tears.

“Take care of my mommy and daddy, please. They are going to miss me most of all.”

“I will.”

She looked at her mom and dad and then me and then up to the ceiling struggling to gasp out her final words. She turned to them and said, “Mommy … Daddy, I love you so much.” Her words faded at the end. Her eyes closed for the last time.

After Cybil closed her eyes, she died ten minutes later at 12:23 am, on August 10th, at the age of six years old. Seven days shy of her 7th birthday. After she passed away, before we left the hospital, her mom turned to me and said crying, “Will you and Mary sing at her funeral. There isn’t going to be very many people, but I would love you all to come. She didn’t get a chance to make …” she broke down and cried ”… many friends.”

“Yes, we will come and yes, I will ask Mary to sing while I play. I know she will say yes. Should I wear our special dress?”

“No. I want you to go out and get a really nice dress for yourself. Don’t you dare wear one you made. You need a reward for all your kindness. Pamela, will you spoil her please? Get her a special dress for the …” She had to fight back her tears. “ … funeral. I thank you for making Cybil’s dress. I want to bury her in it and I want it to be your special gift for the whole world to see when we last see her. But I want for you to know what it is like to have someone take of you like you took care of my little girl. Thank you so much Samantha Miller! You are the most wonderful girl I have ever met next to my little girl.”

“Can I put my special dress in with her before she is laid to rest.” I implored.

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

It occurred to me on the way home. Mrs. Allen treated me as a girl and didn’t ask me to be a boy.

I slept fitfully when we got home. I was numb. My mother didn’t say much to me the next morning. She hugged me and let me cry. I dressed up like Samantha as she told me. Mom then took me out to a really nice dress store. She helped me buy a really beautiful dress and nice shoes for the funeral. She bought me stockings too that matched. We cried off and on the whole time hardly talking. She wouldn’t let me do the alterations. I was to be spoiled. Afterwards, she took me to have my ears pierced and we bought a nice set of ear rings. And a new purse to go with my dress.

Then she took me to a nice place for lunch. She held me when I cried. “Thank you Mommy. I love you!”

“I love you too, Honey! Just let it out.” I fell into her embrace and cried.

“Do you think I will look beautiful in the new dress for Cybil?”

“Oh yes, Samantha! You are a very beautiful girl, inside and out.”

Cybil’s funeral was the next Saturday. Before the funeral, my mom took me to the beauty salon and they made me look very nice. They did my nails. And then my makeup. I felt so very pretty. We arrived at her church where they had a piano waiting for me. Mary was there too.

“You look lovely Samantha!” Mary said with a smile.

“Thank you Mary. I love your dress too. You are gorgeous in that color. I love your fashion sense and have admired it since the first time we met. I wish I had it.” She was about to say ‘thank you for the complement’ and then looked at me for a second as if she wanted to ask me something else instead.

It was an open casket service. Cybil looked beautiful laid out in her coffin. She was in the dress I made for her and had the wig on with my hair. She was made up and had ear rings and lipstick on. They used mascara on her and her eyes were made up too. Still, I was sad seeing them closed. She held a red rose in her hands in honor of Belle. I went up and kissed her on the forehead for the last time. She felt ice cold. I whispered to her, “I love being your sister.”

As I walked away from her, I gave the funeral director my version of the dress neatly folded to be buried with her. In the pocket of the dress, I place a note that said, “To Cybil, My forever best girlfriend. I will miss you. All my Love, your sister, Samantha.”

Even though she had a very short life, she did have friends there from her church, her family, and her neighbors. They numbered about seventy. There were others including Nurse Janice. Jane came too. The numbers swelled when Mrs. Duncan and the whole Shakespearian class came into the funeral including Doug. I was glad the class had ended. I didn’t think I could stand not being dressed as Samantha in it. In all, over one hundred people attended the funeral. I could tell that the Allens were surprised by the turnout. It made them feel better. The minister was surprised that so many people came. He gave a fitting eulogy for such a short life. A huge picture of her smiling in the dress I made with my hair was there including a smaller group photo of me and the rest of us at lunch in the common area.

I played the piano, which thankfully was in tune, and Mary sang Cybil’s favorite song from Beauty and the Beast. And then I played Amazing Grace which Mary sang beautifully. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house when she finished Amazing Grace.

I then got up and went to a chair next to a stand next to a stand with my guitar. I picked up the guitar.

The song I was to sing would be the hardest one I ever had to sing. But, I needed to sing it to Cybil for everyone to hear. I positioned my chair so I was facing towards her in her casket but still open to the people. I found the courage in Samantha to share my heart for her. I began to sing “Remember Me, my friend” by Justin Hayward and John Lodge.

“You don't need to ask me
If I'll be your friend, I am, I am
You don't need to ask me
If I'm sure my friend, I am…”

I finished. I put my guitar in its place, and then began to sob. My Dad came up and guided me back to my seat. I held onto him for dear life for fear I would collapse. He led to my Mom and buried my face in her shoulder.

The minister got up and said some prayers. It gave me time to collect myself. Then, he announced that her friends and family will be sharing some stories about Cybil.

Valerie got up and shared her story about Cybil, her baby, and then said she was going to be proud to name her child Sarah Samantha Taylor because Cybil chose the name. Mary got up and shared about doing make up with Cybil and singing with her.

I got up next and spoke from my heart to everyone and the Allens. “Cybil greatly enriched my life. When I first met her, I knew she was someone special. And when the chance to become her friend came up, I grabbed it. My parents were worried because I got badly depressed after my grandfather passed away. But Cybil gave me a gift. She taught me to face death and enjoy every day for what it can give you. To hold onto hope even when it seems fleeting. And, in the midst of trials, to think of those who love us first. Her last words were ones of concern for her parents. I am and always will be praying for you and be there for you as much as a little girl can be for two of the nicest, kindest, and most wonderful parents I have seen in my short life. Cybil was truly blessed to have had you as parents Mr. and Mrs. Allen. She will never be forgotten by me or those whose lives whom she has touched. Thank you and Bless you.”

Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Allen got up and thanked everyone for coming. They turned to me and Mary and said, “And a big thank you to two angels who made the last few months of my daughter’s life worth living. We love you so very much for what you did for her and for us. You have given us so many happy memories of her last days. She wasn’t alone thanks to you.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house after those words. I know mine weren’t.

We all went to the cemetery. She was buried in the kid’s section and we could see fresh flowers on so many graves. I wondered if the Allens would be visiting her for years to come too. I just couldn’t imagine losing a child so young.

I was so numb; I could hardly remember the reception. I know Mary held me a few times as I sobbed. She knew I was a boy, but once again she held me like a girlfriend. I sobbed like the girl I was. I do remember that Tom Hinks came up to me. Instead of teasing me, he walked over and hugged me.

“Thanks for teaching me about the value of friendship Samantha.” He held me for a moment and slowly rubbed my back with a tender stroke when Mr. Allen walked up and thanked him for coming. He went on to thank the other students for coming. His holding me cut through the fog of my grief. I realized that it was something I wanted to experience again. I became aware of a longing to be in a boys arm that was growing somewhere in the back of my mind.

After the reception, on the drive home, Mom said, “Because of you, Samantha, Cybil will not be forgotten.” She hugged me as we went inside. I stayed dressed as Samantha on the couch feeling lost. I sat with my hands in my lap, legs closed, and a box of Kleenex at my side. Mrs. Smith came over with her babies plus some take out Chinese and we all cried and laughed. Mrs. Smith may talk too much, but the take out and her company was what was we needed. She showed us the photo proofs of her babies and how beautiful the girls were and how handsome Brian was in their outfits. It made me feel so good in the midst of that pain to know there were other lives I could touch as Samantha.

Saying goodbye to Cybil was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my short life. Even harder than saying goodbye to Grandpa or telling Doug my dark secret. But, even with all the pain, I felt that I had tackled a demon that vexed me. In the midst of it all, I found courage as Samantha I never had as Samuel. And I knew that I knew that my journey to become Samantha a certitude and worth it.

Mrs. Allen never told her husband the truth about me. She called me before school started to tell me she was pregnant. And then, sometime in December she called again to tell me that it was going to be a girl. And they were going to name her Samantha Mary Allen.

So, now I will have two babies named after me and I am just starting life.

The next Saturday, just before the start of seventh grade, when Samantha was with Doug for a day, we had a discussion about Cybil and how I was feeling. Then we talked about where we needed to take this.
“Samantha,” Doug said, “I think we need to talk about when you start Hormone Replacement Therapy and when you are going to get Sex Reassignment Surgery.”
I smiled and said, “Doug, do you really think I am ready? Tell me what I have to do and I will do it. I have to be Samantha full time. It really hurts not to be her.”

“Yes I do think you are ready. Normal medical protocol is for you to wear women’s clothes and live every day for a year before an okay is given, but we can’t do that exactly. The way you carried yourself this summer plus last summer and ignored all the taunts of the boys in the troop plus at school and how you acted with Cybil shows me that you can handle being a girl 24/7 365 days of the year. Plus, the experiences you had as Jackie Miller prove to me that you are ready.”

Doug’s sense of humor kicked in though, “My only concern is that I am worried about a leap year though.”

I giggled. “I’m not sure how I would handle Sadie Hawkins Day either.”

“Yup,” Doug chortled, “it could tank your transition. But seriously. This next stage is going to be very crucial. I have a means of allowing you to get SRS surgery when you are fifteen during the summer, for it to be paid for, and for your parents to accept what has happened to you believing it to have been an accidental transformation.”

“But, to go down this road, I need you to think about it and decide whether you will be a boy from here on out or a girl.”

Doug went on to say, “Mrs. Smith is out of town for a week. So, starting tomorrow, I want you to not dress up as a girl. Dress neutral. Neither boy or girl. I want you to go over a question every day and discuss them with me each night during a sleep over. And I want you to carefully consider what your future will be like as Samuel or Samantha.”

Doug held me and said, “Next Saturday, you will be allowed to be Samantha again, and we will sit down and decide together what is best for you. Okay?”

True to his word, every day, I would sit down and write an essay to answer the question Doug posed for the day, go over and talk to him, and then go to bed.

On day one, he asked the question, “What does it mean to be a boy?” Day two was “What does it mean to me to lose having the ability to father children?” Day three was “Are you willing to lose your family and friends by becoming a girl?” Day four was “What does it mean to be a girl?” And the final question was, “How do I feel about becoming dependent on hormones for the rest of my life and not being able to have children unless I adopt?”

Saturday came Doug and I sat down. Doug said to me that he was happy with my answers. He said that I knew what I was getting myself into and what I would be facing for the rest of my life.

“There will be those who don’t accept you. There may be lonely days. But it is clear to me that you aren’t the girl anymore who came downstairs to reveal to me who she was. You have grown and matured beyond your gender identity into a mature woman inside. It is time to make it a reality on the outside.”
These were astonishing words of wisdom from a thirteen-year-old boy whom I could tell was entering puberty. His face was already filled with acne.

Doug looked me in the eye, smiled, and said, “If I do this right. No, if we do this right your mom and dad will accept you. Your family will accept you. And your friends at school will accept you.”

I was eleven. According to his timeline, Doug was going to have me be a girl on the outside in three years. And I had no idea how he was going to do it. But I felt confident, it will happen.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner (revised March 2017)

Chapter 10 – Robert’s rules of disorder

The chaos of the next few days, while crazy, seemingly set me up to be Samantha all the time at home.

My brother Robert had been living on the other side of town with a friend for the past year. He had to finish high school quietly after “officially graduating” and being handed an empty faced diploma. He also worked at a Safeway as a stocker. Doug had found a way for him to get special scholarship to Colorado State University as someone on academic probation who could join the football team the following year. It was a gift from some alumni who made good after a bad start wanted to give out second chances. So, Robert was home for a brief two weeks before heading to college. He was aware that I had to dress as Jackie and heard some talk that I had to dress as Samantha for a dying girl. So, when he showed up to spend those two weeks and saw me dressed “normally,” he thought that was all done and over with. He didn’t know that Doug and I were determining my course to womanhood during the first week.

During that special week where I was in neutral mode, I worked around the house. I cleaned rooms. I did dishes. I cooked dinner. Since my home making adventure, I had grown to love doing those things and relish them. Robert either went to the gym or sat on the couch watching ESPN on cable. I could see that Mom and Dad weren’t too happy with him sitting around, but they felt he was headed off to college, so why raise a ruckus now. I didn’t care. It kept him out of my hair.

When the Smiths returned from their vacation, my Mom and Dad invited them to a backyard BBQ outside on the back porch with the promise that a babysitter would be in on the inside. Dad secretly hoped he could get me out of playing a girl babysitter.

Boy did Robert almost tank my life as Samantha with his macho attitude that night. Thank goodness that Doug was there.

The Smiths brought over a portable crib. I sat watching the babies in the living room. I was sitting in a chair watching them and I was Samantha and dressed very girly. My feeling was that if Dad were to be able to fix my gender issue with the neighbors, I wanted to go out with a bang and enjoy being all girl.

Doug came in from the gym and found me dressed like a girly girl, pink sweater and pink shoes. All they heard in the backyard was this, “you look like a boy!” What they didn’t hear is “When don’t you look like a boy?” Dad rushed into the Living Room and told Robert to “shut up because they had guests. Don’t say a word. Go up to your room. No questions. We have to undo the damage you just did.”

“But Dad. Sam is really a …”

“Shut up. I know, but you don’t know why. Now get up there right now before you make it worse.”

I was weeping silently because I thought the cat was out of the bag and I would never babysit again. I held onto little Carol and rocked her. Would this be the last time I hold her or not? I cuddled her against my shoulder and softly kissed her savoring what I thought might be my last moment with her.

After he left, Dad whispered to me, “Okay, honey. Doug saved the day. Just sit there and be quiet. Follow our lead. Trust me.”

He went upstairs and had a long talk with Robert.

A little while later, the Smiths, Doug, and Mom came into the living room.

I was still had tears running down my face. Mom said to me, “Are you okay, Honey? I know you don’t like to be reminded that you are flat chested. Your Dad is talking to Robert right now about that.”

“Thank you Mommy. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me.” I played along.

I heard a door open upstairs. Dad and Robert came down.

“Go ahead Robert, tell your sister you are sorry.”

“Sam … Samantha,” Dad shot Robert a dirty look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I didn’t mean to make sport of your flat chest. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, Robert.” I got up with Carol and walked over to him. He towered over me just like Dad does.

I hugged him with my free arm and said, “Thank you. I love you Robert.”

He looked at Mom and Dad who were furious with him. Robert spit out the words, “I love you too, Sis.” He hugged me back awkwardly. He even kissed me on the head. So, my babysitting gig was secure. And Dad’s chance to change all that evaporated because of Robert.

Then, Robert stuck his foot in it again. “Is she going to dress like this tomorrow at the mall for our family portrait too?”

Fast thinking Doug said, “Oh no Robert, she will be dressed nicely. Your Mom bought her a lovely dress, remember?” My parents were too angry at Robert again to know what to say. Robert was clearly having trouble process the fact that he just learned my Mom had bought me a dress.

Mrs. Smith broke the silence. “Oh, are you using that photography studio next to the food court? They did my portraits at home for the babies. I have an appointment tomorrow to do some more individual shots in the mall. Maybe Samantha could watch help watch the babies and wait for your family portrait session or help after your session. What time is your appointment Pamela?”

“Oh, one o’clock. We are scheduled for one o’clock.” Mom was shocked back into consciousness. I suspect she was saying to herself that there must be some way out of this mess. I was happy for the mess.

“My appointment is for eleven thirty, that could work. Do you mind? I really could use Samantha’s help!”

Dad finally responded. “Yes, that would be fine. We will have her ready by 10:30.” He sounded resigned to this new reality.

The evening was about over anyway. We all said our goodnights. I helped them go back home and then returned.

Mom, Dad, and Doug were sitting at the table talking to Robert. Jane was just coming back in from a date when I sat down at the table with the family.

“Robert, do you remember how depressed I was when Grandpa died. How much pain I was in?” I said.

“Sam, this dress up business has gotten out of hand. You are dressed like a girl for crying out loud. And how you duped Mom and Dad into letting you dress like a girl, I don’t know?” Robert was pissed. I didn’t want to tell him that it was Mom’s idea back at the start of my helping Cybil.

I was pissed too, so I let Robert have it. “I am still dressed as a girl no thanks to you Robert Steve Miller! Dad was trying to bring it up to the Smiths tonight so he could explain why I was dressed like this. But you had to be mean to me.” I calmed down, just a tad. “All I ask of you is to let me be able to enjoy being a babysitter. I am not like you. I cannot bury myself in sports. I can’t work out my anger at losing someone I care about by grabbing a punching bag and venting even if it is an opposing player who takes the hits. I like taking care of people which is why I want to be a professional of some kind when I grow up. That is why I couldn’t let go of my anger at losing Grandpa. He was stolen from me and I had no way to let go of the grief. I festered and got depressed after he died. Now, I finally found something that works for me and you want to take it away from me.”

“You sound like a girl. You look like a girl. You act like a girl. But you are really a boy, Sam! You need to act like one.”

“So what if I do sound like a girl? I need to deal with grief in my own way, not yours. I just told you, I can’t bottle it up. I lost the best friend I ever had. I poured my life into her. I gave her everything I had because she needed it. And those babies are my lifeline right now. Caring for them is caring for myself because I won’t have stopped giving of myself instead of hiding from life. I learned that from Mom.”

“So, what do you want me to do? Play house with you?”

“If that is what it takes, yes! Tomorrow, when we have our portrait taken, I am going to have to be Samantha for Cybil, Alice, Brian, and Carol. I expected to be Samuel, but you ruined that. Then sometime in December or June of next year, we will have another portrait taken with Samuel. But you will let me grieve even if it is like a girl, if that is the way you know I need to grieve. Because, you didn’t lose your best friend. Because you weren’t there when she took her last breath. Because you didn’t cut your hair off to give her dignity. The list goes on Robert. So tell me one thing?” I was too angry to cry, but my voice was breaking. I was pouring my heart out and I didn’t care. This was going to end on my terms.

“What?”

“How did you cope with losing Grandpa?” He wasn’t expecting this question.

“Yes Robert, how did you cope with losing him?” asked Dad.

We stayed up for an hour talking about Grandpa. Robert finally said he was angry too. And yes, he took it out on the sports field. He began to understand where I was coming from. Robert at least agreed to let me be me.

As we headed to bed, Jane stopped me. “You know Sam; I don’t care if you do handle grief like a girl. But, I handled it badly and not like a girl should. I am sorry. I should have taken care of you and helped you with your pain after Grandpa died. I was angry too. I am sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I wish we could have helped heal each other.”

I hugged Jane with all my strength and softly said. “Thank you Sis. I love you! You are the best sister in the whole wide world.”

“Next to Cybil?” she teased.

“Yeah, even next to Cybil! Hey, so you only have to compete with a dead girl. Can’t be that hard?”

Jane laughed, “I love you too!” she hugged me back realizing my morbid sense of humor was coming back.

I added, “Jane, you don’t need to apologize. You should know that when you talk to me while cleaning the house together, use me to help make prom dresses, or talk to me during dinner, you have helped me heal.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“You have never been a brat to me like I have been to you.”

Jane sighed and kissed me on the head. We said goodnight and went to bed.

When I awoke in the morning, I called out to Mom. “What should I wear Mom? I need your help.”

She knocked and entered my room. “I really am okay with the dress you wore to the funeral. Do you think you could handle that now? It’s a shame we can’t do a real family portrait. I never thought asking you to dress like a girl for Cybil would create so many complications.”

“I don’t know Mom. Seems I am happier when there are complications. You can’t help it if the world isn’t ready to accept boy babysitters yet. Well, if we have to have a throw away portrait, why not one we could give to the Allens.” She nodded in agreement.

I pulled out the dress for the funeral and laid it on my bed. We both sat down and started talking.

“I liked what you said to Robert last night. Not just what you said, but also, I liked how you said it.” Mom said.

“How do you mean?”

“With confidence. You are finding your voice. You aren’t afraid to speak your mind. And, you aren’t afraid of who you are. I used to think you would never come out of your shell. Your Dad and I had been worried about you until Doug moved in.”

“Thanks, but promise me one thing Mom.”

“Tell me when I am being a jerk or wrong. Doug has taught me that you are my most valuable asset.”

“I will. Anything else I can help you with?”

“Yeah, can you help me look good in this dress? Because, if I am going to have to live with this portrait session today for the rest of my life, I want to be a knockout even if I am flat chested.” Mom laughed and rubbed my hair.

I got dressed and Mom helped me do my makeup, hair, ear rings, and nails. And we talked more. It was nice just to spend time with my Mom. Then we got a knock on the front door and I headed to the mall with the Smiths.

The family portrait session went well. Robert looked like he really accepted me as his little sister. Of course, I found out later that Jane got a hold of him and read him the riot act after I left for the mall with the Smiths. Mom and Dad wouldn’t help him and she had him cornered.

The next morning, I knocked on Robert’s door. “C’mon, wake up lazy bones.” I wore pink again just to annoy him.

Robert came to the door wiping the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey you little sissy punk, what are you waking me up for?” Well, so much for Jane’s riot act.

“Housekeeping lessons. Mom and Dad think you need a lesson or two.”

“And you are the one to teach me? Not when you are dressed like that.”

Mom came up behind me. “Robert Steve Miller, you will take these lessons from Sam. You live like a pig. Your room is a mess. And you need to learn the basics so you don’t marry a girl and treat her like you have been treating Samantha. At least, you need to learn enough to get through college.”

“What?! Why? With her … er … him?” Although he had a scholarship, he still needed my parents financial support, so he looked defeated.

“Yup, with me. Come on, I have to be at the Smiths in an hour. Time to work on your room and your laundry. And then tonight, you are learning to make dinner.”

I plowed through Robert and started to grab clothes off his floor. “Robert, these clothes aren’t going to pick up themselves.” I said.

“You heard her Robert, get to work.” Mom was giggling. I sounded just like her.

“Oh, all right.” Robert and I worked on picking up his dirty clothes and putting them into a dirty clothes hamper.

Then we headed downstairs to the laundry room with his hamper. “Well, this part I know. Just throw everything in, soap, and let the machine do the work.” Robert said proudly.

“No, Robert, we are sorting out your laundry first.”

“And why, dear little sister mine, do I need to that?”

“Because you have gym clothes and they really reek. You really reek even now and everyone can smell you a mile off even when you think your clothes are clean. All because you throw them all in together. You don’t sort out your gym clothes from your regular clothes.”

“Why? They use the same soap.”

I folded my arms and shook my head no glaring at him.

“So, smarty skirts, what soap do I use instead?”

“I use a hunter’s soap for your gym clothes which cleans them and removes their odor instead of letting them contaminating your other clothes.”

“You do?” Doug seemed impressed.

“Yes, I found it at a Wal-Mart after Mom and I couldn’t get the stink out of your football uniform a couple of years back. We started using it on your gym clothes too.”

“I’ve been wondering how to get rid of that smell.”

“Okay, here is your sorted laundry. Your underwear and socks, your shirts and pants, and your gym clothes. Now, how about your secret socks?”

“Secret socks? What?”

“Yeah, the socks you hide under your bed and then throw into the laundry at the last minute thinking we won’t notice socks.” Robert looked uncomfortable.

“Follow me, I will show you what I mean.” Before he could say anything, I ran upstairs and, instead of my going to reach underneath his bed, I lifted Robert’s mattress and pointed to a magazine lying in between his mattress and box spring to him as he came rushing in behind me. “Now where are the socks you throw under the bed after reading this?”

Robert turned red faced and looked a little angry. “Look Sam, you will do it too someday soon. It is what we guys do, when we aren’t dressed up like a little girl.” He kept up the taunts about me being a girl. I liked that it annoyed him and ignored them.

“I know about that. When I started to help Mom clean your room, she had Dad sit me down and explain to me what you were doing and what was that foul gooey stuff in your socks. And then I got the birds and bees lecture. So, yes, I know all about your filthy gross habits.”

“They aren’t filthy habits. It is just that ‘real guys’ have needs and desires.” Robert said in his defense. He grew uneasy. I could tell now that he was realizing that Mom knew all along and he found himself uncomfortable with her knowing. He must have thought he had her fooled. I hoped he was grateful I confronted him with the truth instead of her.

“They are too filthy habits if I am having to clean up after you. Now, I have showed how to do your laundry. I have to go over to the Smiths. Please take care of your secret socks too.” I left Robert seething at me and skipped downstairs and headed over to do a little babysitting. A few hours later, I returned.

“Robert, you still home?”

“Yes sweetie.” Came from the TV room.

I went to the TV room and found Robert watching Rugby. “Have you folded your laundry yet?”

“No, not yet. It’s not like I am going anywhere or in a rush.”

I grabbed a basket and poured his freshly dried clothes into it. I put his freshly washed clothes into dryer. I then dumped the basket in front of him and stood between him and the TV. “Well Robert. Are you going to fold your laundry?”

“Yeah, all right, you little Momster!”

The rest of the time till lunch went pretty much like that when the doorbell rang.

“Hello, umm, Jane is it? Is Robert around?” a confused looking man stood at the doorway.

“My name’s Samantha. Jane’s my older sister. I am his younger sister. Yes, he is finishing folding the last of his laundry. Just down the hallway. You can’t miss it.” I pointed down towards the laundry room and he came in and headed that way. I followed.

“Hi Robert, aren’t you quite the domestic servant?”

“Yeah Josh, tell me about it. My Mom and little sister here are ganging up on me teaching me how to be like them.” Robert flopped his wrist down imitating a girl and then stuck his tongue out at me. I folded my arms and gave him a stern look. Josh looked at me up and down. It was creepy.

“Tell me about it too. My Mom is doing the same thing. She complains that she should have done it years ago. I heard through the grapevine that you are headed to CSU in a few days. I wanted to swing by and see you before you left. My first year at the community college went well and I have been accepted at the university. A bunch of us are getting together at the mall to have lunch and ogle the ladies. In fact, Harry, Daryl, and Charles are in the car waiting for me. Harry is first string now. Looks like he is going to beat your rushing record. He wants to talk to you about how to improve.”

I said, “Robert, remember, you have to be home at six so I can show you how to cook dinner.” And then the blackmail began.

“Hey Robert, why don’t you bring your sister? She’ll make it easier to attract a few more bites. You’ll look cool if you are being all big brother and watching out for her. Harry wouldn’t let us bring his little sister and use her that way.”

“Oh yeah, should I?” Robert got a devilish look in his eye and turned on me.

“No, Robert, please, I have some work to do here. Just be back by six.” I wanted to run. He had me cornered.

Robert whispered into my ear, “I’ll out you right here and now if you don’t come.” He grinned at me.

“Okay Mr. Blackmailer. Let me go grab my purse at least.” I glared at him and ran upstairs. When I came back downstairs, Doug was there and said he would join us. My savior was going with me. We piled into Robert’s Sunbird and I sat in the backseat fuming at my brother’s nasty tactics in getting me to go. Leaving out of our neighborhood, after turning onto Hillcrest, we saw that there was an accident that just happened in the trees next to the road.

Robert cried out, “Oh no! Those idiot bastards didn’t! Dammit, they did!” Hillcrest was notorious for road racing teenagers. Before heading to the mall, Josh and the gang decided to test their lives with the foolishness of youth and it appears, had lost. Josh’s Duke’s of Hazzard 1969 Charger was slammed into a tree.

Robert pulled over next to the wreck and we all raced to the scene. Josh was slumped over the steering wheel. Doug opened the rear door and pulled out Charles. Somehow, something in the car had stabbed him in his leg when it crashed and he was bleeding profusely.

“Give me your purse.” I handed Doug my purse. He instructed Robert to bring him a stick. He tore off my purse’s strap and made a quick tourniquet around Charles’ leg. “You hold this Samantha. Do you have any tampons in your purse?” It was a good thing Charles was unconscious.

“Yes, I started carrying them for the girls in the troop.” He took them out and headed back to the car.

I watched as he went up to the driver’s door and checked on Josh. He was having trouble breathing because he had some sort of trauma to the neck. I saw Doug pull out a knife in his pocket and take one of the tampons apart. He packed a wound on Josh’s neck and then took the plastic parts of a pen lying in the car and did an emergency tracheotomy on Josh. He then went to work on the other side of the car with the help of Robert and tended the victims there.

Off in the distance, I could hear sirens as the paramedics and fire department came to assist the accident. A policeman arrived on the scene and asked Robert what was the condition of the people in the vehicle. Doug popped his head up and shouted. “A lot of blunt force trauma. I am working on controlling the bleeding of several accident victims. The rest is pretty straight forward. The driver has a broken windpipe. I did an emergency trach on him. Call for ambulances. Tell them four souls and alert the emergency room at the hospital. Have them page Dr. Robert Calvin and Dr. Royce Fielder. They are the best at head traumas in the ER.”

The officer called in on his radio and relayed the message. I was holding the tourniquet as Charles lay there. His blood was all over my blouse and skirt by now. Charles started to stir. I was worried he would wake up.

The paramedics arrived and began to work the scene taking over from Doug. Doug and Robert came over to me and looked after Charles while they sent for backup. A paramedic arrived and came over he took over from us and pretty soon the victims were transported to the hospital.

The officer came over to talk to us for his report.

“Did any of you see what happened?”

Robert said, “No. I know them. They were friends of mine at school. I heard that Josh had been pretty stoked lately because he got a Duke’s replica a month ago. It looks like the idiot tried to show off to his friends and lost control.”

He took our names and information. Doug pulled the officer aside and explained who I was. I was just listed as Sam Miller on the accident report as the eleven-year-old sibling of Robert Miller.

“You saved their lives son. They would have bled out.” The paramedic said. He turned to the officer. “Someone can bleed out in two minutes if their wounds aren’t dealt with immediately. It was lucky he was on the scene. He gave them their golden hour.” Then turning to me, he said, “Good thing there was a girl nearby with a tampons too. Those can help pack a wound quickly in an emergency.”

As the officer and paramedic walked away, Robert put his arm around Doug. I collected what remained of my purse. “Let’s go home hero.” He put out his other arm and said, “You too heroine.” It wasn’t a taunt. It was a genuine complement.

My mother rushed out of the house towards me. “What happened? Are you okay.” Robert and Doug explained about the accident. Mrs. Smith called Mom to ask about me too. She saw us going into the house. I went upstairs to get cleaned up. My outfit was ruined by all the blood I thought. I came back downstairs in shorts and a t-shirt. Mom and I washed out my clothes in the laundry sink to get the blood out.

“I have been so worried about something like this happening to Robert. I hate to say it, but it was good for him to see this.”

“Well, maybe this will be a wake up call Mom.”

“I hope so.”

Later, I decided to give Robert a pasta lesson. Spaghetti and meatballs. “So this is a calendar.” he said.

“No, it is a colander. A very useful tool. You can save yourself a ton of money if you use it often.” I showed how to put olive oil in the pot and make sure it doesn’t foam up on him.

“Good to know. Thanks sis.” Robert called me his sister so naturally that I hardly noticed. I hoped it was a good sign.

The next morning, after helping the Smiths, I came back in the house. “Sam, I need you to go to the hospital with me, please?” Robert was anxious. “Harry isn’t doing well and they have put him in a medically induced coma.”

“Sure, but I can’t see how I can help.”

“His sister is there. She is eleven and scared to death. I don’t know how to talk to her. And well …”

“Of course I will come Robert. Do you want Sam or Samantha?” I wanted him to choose this time.

“Samantha. I think it will help if she has someone to talk to about her feelings and …”

“Guys don’t talk about their feelings ...”

“And she is scared.”

“Yes.”

A little while later, we entered a hospital room with beeping equipment and Harry on a ventilator. Harry is sixteen and an incoming junior at the high school. He had been mentored by Josh and Robert during his Freshman year in Junior Varsity. Mr. and Mrs. Travers were by his bedside. His mom was sitting by the bed holding Harry’s hand and crying. Mr. Travers was standing behind her with his hands on her shoulder. Off in the corner sitting like a scared bunny rabbit was a cute black haired blue eyed girl about my age only just a little smaller than me. I could see she was budding. She was in jeans and a nice t-shirt. She looked at my brother and smiled. She clearly knew him already. But, her eyes widened when she saw me.

I went over and greeted her. She stood up to greet me. “Hi, I am Samantha, Robert’s sister.”

“Robert never told me he had a sister my age. I didn’t know until my parents said you were coming. I am Vicki. I hear you have had experience in hospitals.”

“Yeah, my best friend died of cancer here a few weeks back in the children’s wing. Her name was Cybil.”

“Sorry to hear that. So all of this must seem normal to you?”

“No, I don’t think anything in a hospital is normal. It scares me still. I don’t know half of what the stuff does or how it really works. I just know that it is supposed to help get you well.”

She began to cry. “Thank you. I thought I was the only one who felt scared.” I embraced her and said, “I know. It is okay to cry. Let it out.” Vickie sobbed in my arms for a few minutes. I just held her and looked back to my brother and her parents. Her parents looked over at me with an understanding look and then at Robert who nodded at them. I saw a Kleenex box and pointed at it to Robert. He handed it to me and patted me on the head.

As she cried, the pain of losing Cybil returned. I quietly sobbed too. Tears streamed down my face.

After Vicki let it out, she said, “Thank you. They say they don’t know yet if Harry has any brain damage or will be physically impaired. My Mom and Dad are so worried. I knew Josh shouldn’t have bought that stupid car. Oh my, you are crying too.”

“That’s okay.” We both blew our noses and then laughed at how foolish we must have looked.

“I am so sorry; this must be hard on you too. You just lost your friend.”

“No, I need to let out my pain too. Helping you is helping me. Besides, I know how nice it is to cry with someone and talk with them when all you are is just a kid. It doesn’t feel so lonely.”

“I know what you mean. Thank you for coming here for me.” She hugged me.

“My pleasure. Let’s go for a walk. I know a nice place to talk. It will be a little easier to talk without them listening.” I smiled at her and hugged her back.

“Mom, Dad?”

“Yes honey?”

“Samantha and I are going for a walk. We won’t be far.”

“Don’t be gone too long.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Travers, if you need us sooner, they can page us. Just ask for Samantha Miller. They know my name. They know me.”

We slowly walked to the door that led to the outdoor garden. I sometimes came here after Cybil fell asleep during her last days. It helped me find peace. It has lovely fountains and streams. It has nice benches where you can sit and just enjoy a little quiet and the sound of water. We sat down.

“What grade are you in?”

“I am going into 6th grade at Danvers Middle School. You go to Canterbury Middle School, right?”

“Yes, so, sooner or later we will be in the same high school.”

“That will be nice.” Oh no, Doug had better come through with that SRS or else I will be in trouble. How would I explain Sam to her?

“I know that you are scared, but they really have great people here at the hospital. The nurses care a great deal about the patients. I know they took really good care of my Grandpa after he got hit by a car. Sadly, he died.”

We both stared at the fountain. She broke the ice. “Hospitals really suck!”

“Yeah, they do. Except for the baby nursery. I took Cybil there. It was a happy place.”

“Do you have any dolls still? I loved pretending to have a baby with my dolls when I was younger.” Vicki was happy remembering her dolls.

“Not now, but I have real babies. I babysit next door nearly every day. Alice, Brian, and Carol. They are five months old. And they are so cute! Oh, changing a doll’s diaper will never teach you this, if you ever change a boy’s diaper, they might get you all wet with their little hose if it starts peeing. I went to the side of the changing table to tickle Brian while I was changing him and then he totally nailed me.” We giggled.

“What do you do for fun other than get peed on by a baby boy?” Vicki needled me with her elbow.

“I play guitar and the piano. I love to swim and fish. I love to sew. I am learning French with my neighbor, Doug. I love to read. And I love school. Everything but math. Math is hard.”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I am leaning to being a baby doctor. I love babies. So, I have a reason to study math even though I hate it. I want to be a doctor too because I was born on the 29th of December, around seven weeks earlier they think. The reason I am alive today is because of the neonatal facility here at the hospital. That means although I am going into 7th grade, I probably should have been in 6th grade instead. It puts me about 16 months behind the oldest student in my class. How about you?”

“I don’t know. You seem to have your act together. I wish I did.” The flood gates opened and she started to cry again. I held her just like Mary held me when I was losing Cybil.

“No, I don’t have my act together Vicki. I just have good people guiding me to where I need to be. Like Robert, who heard his friend’s sister was hurting and thought I could help her.” I didn’t add that Robert may not be the best brother in the world, but he does have his moments.

She sniffled. “We should have brought the box of Kleenex.”

I pulled a small packet of Kleenex out of my purse and handed it to her. “Not to worry. I come fully loaded. Any bad guy will get cried under the table at thirty paces.”

She laughed. “They don’t stand a chance with us. Do they?”

“No, they don’t”

“I love my brother Harry so much. He watched me after school for my parents who both have to work. He is so kind to me. He even let me make him up. I did his nails and he didn’t care. He would let me watch video tapes of Cinderella or the Disney Channel instead of sports. He is the sweetest brother I could ever …” I held her and she cried.

“I don’t want to lose him Samantha. He is the only brother I got. Oh why did that stupid Josh have to go ruin it all for me! I wish he were dead and left my brother alone. Harry didn’t even want to go along, but Josh said that it was going to be a little get together of all the football heroes he knew from school and he could learn some new tricks to improve his game.”

I was surprised to see Jane walk into the garden. She was smiling, so I knew there wasn’t any bad news she was bringing.

“Hey Samantha. I got off of work and Mom told me about Harry. Robert said you went for a walk and I knew where to find you. I thought you could use some sisterly company.”

“Vicki, this is Jane, my fantastic older sister. Jane, this is Vicki.”

“Nice to meet you Vicki.”

Jane handed me a box of Kleenex. “I thought you could use reinforcements. I am sorry about your brother Vicki. I have talked to your folks. They are going to stay here for a while. The doctors say that they will know something in 72 hours. So, did you want to go back to the room or would you like to do something special, just us girls?”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel like going anywhere, but I know I don’t like being here.”

“Well, maybe you could come home with us and we could do something fun.”

“Do you think we could play with the babies next door to you?” That seemed to brighten up her face.

“Well, Mrs. Smith did say that she would love it if I could come over early today. She wants to go shopping and if she knows the three of us can take care of her babies while she is gone, she can go.”

Mrs. Smith was thrilled. Three babysitters, no charge. And, we were in seventh heaven.

“What are you going to teach Robert today to cook?” asked Jane. She was holding Ben and he was eating up all the attention.

“We did pasta last night, so, I was thinking hamburgers with sautéed onions, fried egg, French fried onions, and a few other tricks. If Robert learns how to make a tasty burger, he will always be popular with the guys.”

“Oh, that sounds good like a good plan. Maybe you should include beans so they can serenade themselves afterwards though.” Jane giggled. ”Oh, would you like to join us for dinner Vicki, we would love to have you?” Jane said.

“Yes, if it is no trouble.”

The thought hit me that Vicki will want to see my room. And then my secret will be given away. I said to Jane, “And of course, she’ll want to see my room. I left it in such a mess though.”

Jane caught my message. “Oh, Samantha, I better go tell Mom to set another place at the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Jane put Ben in the crib and went next door.

“Are you sure there will be no problem? I don’t have to come.”

“Oh no, we have more than enough hamburger meat. I bet Jane went to go put it out in addition to telling our Mom that you are coming to dinner.”

My room is pretty non-descript. But it isn’t classically boy either. I had the wall’s painted “comforting green” from Home Depot because, while not pink, it was a nice color that was both relaxing and not very much one sex or the other. I chose a brown bedspread with and beige sheets. My furniture is a faux cherry. So, it is a little masculine, but not overly. There are no posters in my room, except for Rick Wakeman. Some pictures in my room have scenes of mountains. There is Mt. Everest and Mt. McKinney. And then I have a nice picture or two of meadows with wild flowers. That way I could sneak in pink without anyone noticing. The carpet is a Berber that my mother talked me into. It is not my favorite, but it is pretty neutral. There is a stand for my guitar and I have an electronic keyboard for practicing the piano next to my dormer window. I have a music stand with whatever song I am working on at the moment. And a chair so I can sit down and play either instrument. And then I have a bookshelf, chair, and a desk for doing my homework and studies. The only thing that directly communicates boy are the clothes hanging in my closet and in my dresser. Frankly, it could pass as a girl’s or boy’s room without those. But, just barely in either direction.

So, I was anxious when Vicki came up to see my room, but Jane winked at me. So I knew that she had done something real fast to make my room passable. So, her reaction to my room could not be as surprised as my own would be. My sheets were now yellow and my bedspread was pink. My bed looked a little unmade and like I got up and ran out the door. My pajamas at the foot of my bed were replaced with a girl’s night shirt. There were no boy clothes hanging in my closet. Rick Wakeman was still there, but now it had hearts and kisses drawn around the border of the poster in ink that looked like lipstick. I so wish I had a Justin Hayward poster so I could do the same for him. My makeup was still up on the dresser and mirror, but it was flanked by a Ken and Barbie doll. My pillow was a little frilly now. My room was a girl’s room now. I noticed it didn’t take much to make it that way.

“I like your room. It is very simple. Yeah, what do you mean big mess! Would you play a song for me on your guitar, please?”

“Sure, I would love to Vicki. But I don’t do any current songs. I really don’t like them. Recently, I have been learning French songs to improve my French. So, Vicki, do you want to listen or sing along.”

“Just listen. You know, I have never heard a song in foreign language. Sing me one please.” Jane and Vicki sat on the bed. I tuned up the guitar.

I started to play and sing a song by Jean Jacques Goldman. “J'ai compris tous les mots, j'ai bien compris, merci … Raisonnable et nouveau, c'est ainsi par ici …” ending the song with the repeating phrase, “Pour que tu m’aimes encore,” which is the title of the song. Vicki and my sister applauded. “That is a Celine Dion song, by the way.”

“Really! What is the song about?” Jane asked. “I have heard you singing it often lately, why?”

“Well, Mrs. Duncan says I should learn to sing. She likes my voice. Somehow, it is easier to sing in French since no one knows if I have blown it or not. The song is about a woman who is so madly in love with her lover that if she ever lost that love that she would become all sorts of people or do anything ‘pour’ so ‘que tu’ that he ‘m’aime encore’ would fall in love with her all over again. It is a fun song to sing and easy for a novice singer like myself. Goldman writes his song on a guitar, so that makes it easy for me to find his music for guitar.”

“How about one more in French?”

I thought for a moment and began to sing ‘Comme Toi’ by Goldman.
“Elle avait les yeux clairs et la robe en velours.
A côté de sa mère et la famille autour ...”
I finished with tears flowing down my face.

“Why are you crying? Is it a sad song Samantha?” asked Vicki.

“Yes, terribly sad. It is about a young girl that will never live beyond eight years of age because the song hints that she was taken out of Warsaw by the Nazi’s and gassed in the camps of World War II. Goldman wrote it so we would never forget the holocaust. In it he sings about her loving to play with dolls, how she loved music like Mozart, and loved her boyfriend Jeremy whom she might marry one day. I thought about singing it in the memory of Cybil at her funeral, but it wasn’t fair since only a few would know what the words meant in French. But, it really does apply to a young life taken by cancer too.” Tears continued to roll down my face.

“I should sing a nice one to cheer myself up. Heard this one too often thanks to Robert.” I began the riff for ‘Take My Breath Away.’ “Watching every motion in my foolish lover's game …” We all began to sing it together and finished making fools of our selves laughing and giggling.

Jane said, “Oh that was nice Sam! Hardly a surprise that you would chose that one since Robert always puts in the video tape for Top Gun. I can’t tell you how many times he has watched that dumb movie. He feels the need for speed.” Vicki began to cry.

“Oh, I am sorry Vicki. I forgot.”

“That’s okay Jane. I understand. Boys do stupid things and hurt people because they have to have their way. And we foolishly let them have their way.”

Dad poked his head in the door. “Vicki, I called your parents at the hospital. Everything is fine, but they said that if you want, you can spend the night here. They don’t think they will make very good company for you and we would love to have you stay. We have set up Jane’s room for you, Samantha, and Jane to have a sleep in. Robert is coming home with a change of clothes for you. But, we do expect everyone to get up somewhat early. School starts on the 8th of September, which is a little over a week away.”

“Do you guys mind?” Jane and I smiled and nodded yes. “I’d love to stay then.” said Vicki with a big smile on her face.

We filtered downstairs. Robert came in with Vicki’s clothes and I began to give him his cooking lesson. We had all the hamburgers cooked with the fries in no time. Robert loved sautéing onions, but he hated cutting them. So, I taught Robert a trick to ease the crying by heating up the onion in the microwave first and then cutting it. We sat down at the table, ate, tried different ways of making a burger, and talked.

Someone asked about the weather for tomorrow, so Robert turned on the news. It was about 10:00 pm or so and we were about to head to bed. CNN began was doing a special broadcast. “Princess Diana is dead …” We sat transfixed as the news reports came in about the accident and the details of what they knew about her death. I looked over at Vicki. Of all the things that could happen that would make this night any worse for her, the death of Diana in an auto crash could not have been any worse news. Vicki was more than shaken at the news. She was reliving the pain of what was happened to Harry yesterday and the shock of losing someone she loved and idolized.

Vicki didn’t know that Jane was my chaperone that night. I was dressed in the night shirt she gave me. It felt nice. It went down to my knees. Jane carefully steered subjects away from what might be discussed during a sleep over. So, inevitably, we hit upon the one subject that she couldn’t shut down. Her brother Harry.

“Did you know him in school Jane?”

“Oh yes. But, I was a senior and he was a sophomore. Boys may get to know younger boys and girls, but girls tend to ignore the younger girls and boys. Harry is a nice guy. I like him. He was always polite to me and I never caught him trying to look down my dress like the other football players. You notice it when a boy looks you in the eye after you grow boobs.”

“Thank you. I like knowing that Harry is a nice guy. Is Robert the same way?”

“Sadly, no. But he isn’t too bad either. He is just a macho jock. All talk. But, if it is something important, he will do the right thing. Like asking Samantha here to help you.”

Exhaustion overtook me and I fell asleep. I woke in the morning as lay there quietly. I had a morning woody. I waited until it went away. I have gotten them before, but with the drugs I have been on, they are very rare now. I think it must have been the excitement of the previous evening. After it went away, I quietly repositioned my insert so my male member was disguised again. Oddly enough, even after my Dad gave me the lecture and my brother said what he said, I hardly ever touched it when mine got hard. So I really didn’t know what it felt like to do what Robert was doing. Dad said after puberty, I would know. And, I had looked at the magazine. I was intrigued with how a mature woman looked more than being interested in seeing her with her clothes off. That part didn’t make sense to me. Why would a woman want to expose herself for the whole world to see? Very confusing.

Jane and Vicki were still asleep, so I went to the bathroom. I was sitting when the door opened. I was pushing my member down at the time so I could start to pee into the bowl and not out the rim. The door opened briefly. Vicki apologized and closed the door. Whew. It looked normal to her. I could have seriously blown it had I been standing up to pee. I was grateful I changed my habits lately. I couldn’t remember the last time I stood to pee was.

I washed up. I went to my room and got dressed. I knocked on Jane’s door. “Bathroom is free.” I then woke up Robert and we headed downstairs and started to cook breakfast. I showed him how to crack eggs right and temper the heat in the pan so the eggs don’t bake onto the pan or turn into dried egg. We cooked bacon, eggs, pancakes, and sausage. I showed him a technique for cooking bacon in the oven, a cookie pan, and in the microwave. He saw why I liked to cook them in the oven. I then showed him how to set up a coffee pot and not make killer coffee. Robert actually enjoyed my teaching him. We never had so much fun before we were done, I hoped he liked my being Samantha.

Mom got up and found us busy working on breakfast. She sat down drinking a cup of coffee and read about Princess Diana in the paper. I was tall enough now to not need a step stool anymore. I was actually liking being a little taller now. But, I wished I had breasts growing so I would look like other girls. I knew that wouldn’t happen until next year. Doug said he would show me later, but that it would take about eighteen months to get to the budding stage. He wanted to sit down with me and go over a timeline.

I whispered to my Mom what happened in the bathroom. Jane and Vicki came down late. Vicki had showered and cleaned up. Jane I and would do our showers later. Mom was sure they could watch Vicki and make sure she doesn’t see me get dressed or walk in on me in the bathroom again.

“How are you feeling today, Vicki?” asked my Dad.

“Fine, thank you. Any news from my parents?”

“I talked to them a few minutes ago. Harry is improving. The brain swelling has gone down. They asked if you would like to stay with us so they could stay with your brother. It will be just for another night. We will still take you over to the hospital if you want. It is Labor Day weekend, so I am off work. We would love to spend the weekend with you.”

“Thank you Mr. Miller, I would like that. I feel safe here and you have been so kind. Yes, maybe later we can see Harry.”

A little later, I went outside with my guitar and sat on the front porch while Jane got cleaned up and dressed. The previous night and all that happened with Princess Diana was getting to me. I needed to let it go. Plus, something wasn’t adding up. Vicki, Jane, Robert, and the family were inside. Robert would be leaving on Sunday to head to college and starting classes on Tuesday. I had some time to myself to think.

I tuned my guitar before I played. In my research of French music, I found a song that had recently been turned into an English song by Peter Kingsbury, but the original French version was so much better for me to express my personal feelings. The English version changes the pain of the singer to that of a lover in pain. While beautiful, I wasn’t interested in a love song. I also liked it because it forced me to use a full range of three octaves with my voice. That is why the song was written in the first place. The song was written to show case the singer Daniel Balavoine’s talented voice. Sadly, he passed away in a helicopter accident while in Africa working on getting wells dug in poor villages. I don’t know how competently I sung his song. I would have to get training to improve. But, it felt good to try and practice such that if I should ever get training, I would know what to look for in a voice coach. I am sure I ruined it with my vain attempts.

I began to play and sing,

“Pourquoi je vis, pourquoi je meurs. | Why do I live, why do I die
Pourquoi je ris, pourquoi je pleure … | Why do I laugh, why do I cry
…
Voici le S.O.S. D'un terrien en détresse …” | Here is the S.O.S from a land in distress.

Doug came across the street and sat with me as I played.

“I bet you like that lyric in the song, ‘J'suis mal dans ma peau,’ don’t you?”

“Yes, ‘I feel bad in my skin.’ Apropos de moi, elle a raison, non? It is such a beautiful melancholy song. The French can really express their feelings in a gut wrenching way. Like Jacques Brel’s ‘N’me quitte pas.’ It is so passionate and filled with emotion.”

“You’ve come a long way from 3rd grade. You are feeling free to talk about how you feel now and not retreating into a dark rabbit hole.”

“Thank you Doug. We aren’t there yet. But it is coming so close. I really appreciate all you have taught me and are doing for me. I don’t feel lonely anymore. I don’t feel abandoned. Somehow, being able to sing those words takes away their pain and their sting. I am freer now than I have ever been.”

“Your welcome. That is what friends are for. How is Vicki doing?”

“All right I suppose, but I feel there is something I am missing that has been under the surface with her. It is why I came out here. Something is bothering me and I can’t put my finger on it. I think I must be crazy.”

“You aren’t crazy. I sensed it too. Her brother’s accident isn’t her problem. At least that isn’t the only reason why she is crying. I talked it over with my Dad, and he thinks Harry will recover just fine. But, the family was told that yesterday before Vicki met you. He may not be able to play football for a while, but he will be fine. So, why their concern for Vicki? My Dad said if anything were to go south, Vicki would have been kept at the hospital. He knows Harry’s doctor. He got his info as insider information, so don’t quote me with anyone, got it?”

“Got it. What do you think it is?”

“I think you may get the answer if you sing to her a Patrick Bruel song you enjoy playing.”

I flashed on the song he was thinking about. “You can’t suspect her parents then?”

“No, but someone close to them or using them, Harry, or her? They are good people from what Robert tells me. They could be keeping her from the real problem, or not. I hope they suspect something is wrong on some level.”

“A relative then?”

“Maybe? Or a co-worker or boss. Someone who if they were found out could cost one of them a job. It is just speculation right now. There are too many angles to consider. And what have they done to her too? That is another elusive question. What I do know is that she wanted to stay with you too easily. Not that she wouldn’t have come here anyway, but you gave her an option to be free from harm and she accepted it right away. She didn’t fight to stay at the hospital. And, this is hard for you to hear, I think Robert knows too. He may not know the details, but for him to encourage you to be Samantha around her, Robert has heard something. He is still too dead set against you being Samantha for him to suddenly accept you in twenty-four hours and then just as suddenly be fine with your dressing like a girl and acting like a girl. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, why don’t you go in and get some breakfast? Maybe Vicki will say something while I get cleaned up that gives you a clue. I am going to sit out here and think about what we have talked about for a moment or two. We can talk later. And thanks for telling me. I did think I was crazy.”

Jane opened the door and said the shower was ready. I said I would be in shortly to take mine.

Doug went inside. I looked down the street to the stop sign watching a car stop. Without thinking about it, I began to play Patrick Bruel’s song while in deep thought about what Doug said. I sang in French,

“Qui a le droit, qui a le droit | Who has the right, who has the right
Qui a le droit d' faire ça | Who has the right to do that
A un enfant qui croit vraiment | to a child who really believes in
C' que disent les grands ? | the things adults say?”

I stopped playing Patrick Bruel and I began to play a few other tunes to get my mind off the subject. I whimsically played the first few notes of a few Disney tunes just to lighten my mood before I went into take my shower. I hit a few more notes of a Disney tune as I watched another car turn onto our street and then my eyes welled up with tears and I began to hyperventilate. I was overcome with anger and fury. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. No, I thought! No! I simply can’t be right! The answer was in front of us all along.

I calmly got up to go talk to Doug when the front door opened and Doug came out and shut the door quickly. He looked at me with furious eyes that matched mine. I could tell he figured it out too and was just as mad and seething with anger.

I said out loud in a voice quaking with fear from the very implication of its meaning, “C’est Gaston, non?” [It's Gaston?]

Doug said, “C'est à peine croyable, mais je sens que ça doit être vrai.” [It doesn't seem right, but I feel that it has to be true]

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner (revised March 2017)

[Author’s note: Sorry for the delay. After reading a comment from Kitten about not being afraid to go deeper after reading chapter 9, I rewrote this chapter and it took the story off on a tangent for a few new chapters.

Totally unexpected results.

Same ending. Maybe even more fun than before.

Think Blake Edwards.

A la prochaine semaine [Next week, I am going to publish weekly from here on out.]

… AuP reviner ]

Chapter 11 – The Battle of Midway

“So, how does someone afford to buy in cash a Duke’s of Hazzard replica car worth just over thirty grand when they don’t have a job and their parents aren’t rich?” Dad said.

My Dad leaned back in his seat at his office and looked at his good friend Chris. Sitting in a comfortable chair across from my Dad was his close friend Chris Leitner who works in Internal Affairs and whom he asked to stop by for a friendly visit. We had gone to Dad’s office after Doug and I talked to Dad about our suspicions and then confronting Robert who spilled the beans about Josh. Dad called Chris and asked him to visit him and that it was important.

Dad had gone to school with Chris from day one of Kindergarten till graduation from high school. Most Internal Affairs personnel don’t have many close friends. My Dad was one of the few that Chris liked and kept as a close friend. My Dad is honest and trustworthy as the day is long. Chris’ presence in his office was du rigor for such a long and valued friendship. It was not at all uncommon for Chris to be here for a visit and the two to chat about life being so very different from the days of their youth. From video games to computers, they would challenge themselves to understand the world their offspring had been born into and they grasped to understand.

“Good question. I really don’t think we can just act on one little item like this. What else do you have? It can’t just be that Josh Colson is the son of a Sargent in the Spring Valley police department. There has to be a tie to his dad.”

Robert sat uneasy in his chair, but at my Dad’s prodding spoke up. “When I left High School, I stopped contact with the kids there, even if I knew them. Reason being is that I was an adult and I had been told by the school administration that anything I do with the other kids there could be considered an offense against a minor. It was the best policy that unless they lived next door or were a really close friend, to not fraternize with them. But not Josh. Two of the kids in that crash were still minors he hardly knew. A senior, Charles Linstrom, and Harry Travers, a junior. They were at best casual friends. Not close to him at all.”

My brother leaned forward and took a deep breath.

“Well, there was a rumor going around that Josh was selling sort of photos to pay for his new car. Just not any photos, but the photos of naked girls. I saw him talk to the sisters of the football team members when we were seniors. He ignored Jane for some reason. When I heard that Josh had minors in the car with him, I brought Sam along here to find out if Josh would talk to him. I saw the way he looked at him in the laundry room before we left to join up at the mall. The sisters never told me what he said to them so I figured my brother would tell me at least because I could tell Josh was interested in him. I was just curious.”

“Him? Are you saying this cute young lady here is Sam?” Chris looked shocked and looked at me with his glasses on. “Oh my word, it is you Sam! But, I don’t understand. Has he?”

Mom spoke up and gave Chris the low down on Cybil, the Allens, and the Smiths. “We think it will be good for Sam to get some experience as a babysitter. Unfortunately, the Smiths think he is a girl. And to be frank, Sam looks and sounds very much like a girl since he hasn’t started puberty yet, we figure why not. He goes to school as a boy and when he is home, he will switch to a girl so he can babysit. I know it sounds crazy, but … ”

“It is kind of like being undercover I suppose. Except I get to babysit and earn money because they think I am a girl. And I love taking care of their babies.” I tried to sound seriously not interested in being a girl.

“Well, I may ask you to help our undercover officers in the future doing decoy duty Sam. I hardly recognized you. They need lots of work on their disguises.”

Dad spoke up next, “I do have more. I have a friend on the newspaper staff. They sent someone to photograph the accident scene for the paper. In the ruble of what was thrown from the car was an item that has since gone missing.” My Dad handed Chris a photo with the item pointed to by a post-it note. It was a small satchel a little bigger than a legal pad.

“Since it is part of my job, I asked for a copy of the accident report to see if there was any damage to city property. It is standard procedure. There was public roadway damage and my office needs to oversee the repair of it. Here is the report. The item in the photo is described in the report as having been picked up. So, Chris, where is it? I stopped by to check the evidence locker explaining to the lock up manager that determining the kind of debris that flew from the car could help estimate the speed of impact. He wasn’t surprised because I have done it before. Pretty standard stuff. The item wasn’t there.”

“Well, there still isn’t enough probable cause yet, but damn close. But, to be honest, I don’t think that will matter. Can I borrow your phone Paul?” My Dad looked relieved and bothered at the same time that he didn’t have to continue convincing him.

Dad pushed his phone over to Chris who dialed a long number. “Hello Bill, I think I have a lead on that Ivy case you have been working on. I am in the civil engineer’s office adjacent to city hall. Can you come over? Don’t be in a suit. Jeans and a work shirt. You need a job kind of outfit. How long? Can you wait twenty minutes Paul? He says yes.”

Twenty minutes later, a disheveled man in jeans ran the bell for our building. Since no one else was in the building but us, my Dad went and got him and ushered him into the room. “Please sit down.”

Chris introduced us to Bill Watson and went over all we had talked about bringing Bill up to speed. Bill spoke to us, “I am with the state police. We have been trying to flush out a child porn ring out of the Nashville area, but haven’t had any luck. That is, until now. Son, is your name Sam?”

“Yes sir, but when I am dressed like this, I go by Samantha.”

“Well, it is hard to believe you are a boy. You look so much like a young girl and sound like one too. Oddly enough, come to think of it, I think I know a way we can use your help Sam to break up this child porn ring. We could use your help.”

“How?” I was curious.

“Well, one way is we can pretend to be photographing you topless whereas we couldn’t do that with a girl your age. If we put you in a studio shoot where the perps walk in and see us turning you into a just a topless ‘girl’ victim, they will believe we are for real and will allow our undercover man to ferret out the truth. I think Josh is a kind of pimp for this group. If we turn him into state’s evidence, then we can set the trap I just described.”

Mom asked, “How would you do that? It doesn’t sound safe.”

“For example, we could have him do some shots in a studio that has a one-way mirror where we can show our client our latest subject. With mirrors, it will appear that his directly in front of them when he will be safely out in another room. Normally, we use eighteen-year-old cops doing it, but in this case, having someone who is as young as Sam here will be far too tantalizing for them to ignore. We would, of course, change his hair and his appearance so they couldn’t identify him later.”

“There is another reason you may want to help us too. Your friend Vicki may have been one of the victims of Josh’s scam. If we can catch them now, we stand a good chance of being able to find out what photos they took of her or her friends and stop their distribution. I suspect that is what was in the folder. Josh was likely going to blackmail Harry with what was in the folder.”

Doug piped up, “Then, I need you to talk to Harry’s doctor as soon as possible. Once they bring him out of his medical induced coma, they will be able to get to him. It won’t hurt him to be under a day or two longer I bet. That will give you more time to catch the bad guys.”

“Where is Vicki right now?” asked Chris.

“At the hospital. We are going over to pick her up. She is staying with us. In fact, we should go there soon.” Mom said.

“Okay, right now, Paul, you have to escort me out. Shake your head and say that you are sorry, there are no jobs. Pat me on the back, and send me on my way. I will meet you at your place in a few hours Paul. Leave your back door unlocked. Chris, leave with Paul and get some lunch as you usually do. Doug and Sam, go get Vicki with your Mom right now. Don’t say anything to Vicki. Doug, do you have the info for Harry’s doctor?”

“Here you go sir. I wrote it out as you were talking to us.”

The plan unfolded quickly with each of us performing our assigned task. When we got to the hospital, the Travers informed us that the doctor wanted to keep Harry in a coma for two more days as a precautionary measure base on his experience in such matters. His parents said to do what he thought best. We told them that Vicki was welcome to stay with us for the time being. Vicki seemed relieved. We knew why but didn’t say anything.

When we got home, I talked to Vicki. “Look, it isn’t fair to you if you have to be in a room with three of us. I want you to take my room. I will move my stuff into Jane’s room. I don’t get to see her much. That way you will have your privacy and I get sister time.”

“You sure? I don’t want to impose.” Vicki seem to be happy with the new arrangement though she said otherwise.

“No, for one night it was fun. But if you are our house guest now, you need your space. And this is my chance to have quality time with my sister.” Jane and I shifted my clothes over to her room and moved in Vicki’s clothes. Jane agreed that I would put on a blindfold when she was changing. I told her not to worry about me. I didn’t have much below to worry about. She said she was sorry to hear about that, but maybe soon it would change.

When we got downstairs, we found Bill and Dad sitting at the breakfast table. “Agreed. I need to talk to Samantha and you now and tell her what is expected, Paul.” I was impressed at how he kept my cover. He looked up at me and smiled. “Is there a place we can talk alone?” Dad and I nodded yes.

Doug let us in to his house. We sat down at his table. “Do you mind if Doug joins us? It was his insight that caused me to bring up to my Dad that we thought Vicki and Harry might be in trouble.” I said.

“Okay. I am fine with that considering his advice protected Harry. Thank you Doug. Right, here is the thing. If we do a sting, it will be a little over a year before everything happens. A couple of months to catch the criminals and about a year for the prosecution. I find it best to plan for the worst. The problem is that during discovery, your existence will be possibly released as an informant with enough details that someone might find you. That means they could come looking for you at your school.”

Dad looked anxious, “Okay, what are the ways to protect him from harm?”

“There are two solutions in this case. One, Sam goes to another junior high as a boy, under a false name. Two, Sam goes to another junior high as a girl, under a false name. If he goes as a boy, babysitting is over. He will have to cut his hair short. If he goes as a girl, he can keep his babysitting job, but he cannot be a boy unless he is in the court room. No one can know he is a boy unless we authorize them knowing or they knew before hand and agreed to keep their mouths shut.”

“It is your call Dad. You know me and what I want and need. I will go with your advice.”

“You sure son?”

“Yes, you know how to protect me best. I trust you.”

Dad thought hard and long. He put his hand on mine. “I love you son, but I choose girl. I think they will be looking for a boy, not a girl.”

Bill was startled. “Are you okay with your Dad’s choice Sam? It will mean that you have to play and be a girl until this is over. I figure about ten months at least.”

“Look, I just lost a close friend to cancer. My drug of choice is taking care of the three babies next door. I am dressed up pretty much all the time as a girl for them so I can keep that job. And, until I hit puberty, no one even thinks that I am a boy anyway. I am considered a sissy runt by even my brother. All my classmates are bigger than me. They call me a loser. And, if I am going to go to another school, I am going to be pretty isolated anyway, just like I am now. Frankly, I might as well be able to cry without feeling like I will be noticed. So, I will not mind in the least.” I was really thrilled, but hid it.

I continued, “Anyway, there is one problem though. Enough students from my summer Shakespeare class this year and last year know me that we need to be careful what school I go to for middle school. Plus, it is not a concern, I need to avoid sporting events. That part is easy.”

Bill made a quick phone call. About an hour later he called back and Bill talked to someone on the phone. “I had a man over at the district now check it out. There are thirty students that went through the class with you last year and this year. Half of them are in high school now. Four moved out of the district. Nine are in eighth grade. And two are in seventh grade. The best choice is Danvers Middle School. There are two students there that will know you. Vicki Travers, who only knows you as a girl, and a Mary Casselbaum.”

“I know Mary. Her mother works at the hospital in administration. She knows I am a boy, but if she is told why I am doing this, she will never let anyone know, ever. I trust her. I am sure that if you have an officer talk to her before I show up, she will guard my secret with her life.”

“You better, because you could be trusting her with your life.”

“I really have to ask this next question. Are you okay with playing a topless girl in shorts?”

“Yes. I can see why you are doing this. I think I can pull it off.”

“Son, in the law, there is something called entrapment. The idea is that we don’t entice someone to commit a crime, but we can lie to them. Strange as it may seem, cops can lie. I bet you didn’t know that. What you can help us do is to build credibility that we are really bad people when we are not. You will help us lie to the villain. You don’t entice them and go out of your way to get a villain to commit a crime. Now, it is not uncommon for us to use kids to buy cigarettes or liquor to expose a business that is harming minors. We have to follow certain rules. That is where you can help us. Because you are a boy who looks like a girl, we don’t have to worry about you being topless. There is a grey area about you presenting as a girl, but we can get around that one.”

“That makes sense. Do you mind if I pose a question that you might not expect?” My Dad said.

“Okay, I am pretty well seasoned in this business, fire away?”

“Can my son doing this benefit more than just your investigation? Could he be used to help shut down other rings with bad people in them?”

“Wow! You are right. I didn’t expect that. Usually, we have to do the convincing. That is why I was so excited to see Sam earlier today. I knew he could solve one of our problems. Yes, if you and your wife are okay with it, I do know of more stings that could use his help. But right now, we need him to do a simple wire job first.”

“What is a wire job. And what do you need me to do?” I asked.

“Okay, here is Josh’s M.O. in a nutshell. He gets a girl about Vicki’s age who hasn’t developed breasts to pose for him at a poolside for example with no top on. Forgive my language, he says something like, ‘one day you will want a photo of yourself before you got any boobs.’ Whatever his line is, this gets the girl used to his taking a photo of her partly unclothed. Then, as she starts changing, he gets more photos saying that she still looks like a boy. Slowly, over time, he convinces her to take her clothes off and before she knows it, he has her hooked. She thinks only she sees the photos. But, he sells them.”

“That’s sick! Is that what he is doing to Vicki?”

“We think so. At least, that is what he is trying to do.”

“Okay, how do I help you get this jerk?”

“We want you to wear a wire and say to Vicki that you feel awkward. For example, that someone who knows your brother got you to take your top off at a pool and took photos of you. We think she will open up about what happened to her. When she does, we will record it.”

“Then what, I will have betrayed her. I don’t want her to be angry at me.”

“No, we aren’t going use the recording on her. We are going to play the recording for Josh before he leaves the hospital and get him to turn on his group of fellow predators. If he does that, we can turn this filthy organization inside out.”

“Okay, I will do it under one condition.”

“What?”

“That my mother be included every step of the way. I want her to be my partner in crime so to speak. If I can use how I dress and look to damage those who harm children, then I need her to guide me and protect me from moral decay as well.”

“You are a smart kid. Deal son!” We shook hands. A little while later, Mom came over and Bill explained to her what the plan was. She was surprised that Dad agreed to have me be a girl for ten months.

“Well Sam, if you are going to be forced to be a girl for a year, I can’t think of a better reason. But, I just want you to be sure that you realize you will be losing out on things that boys like to do in school. Baseball, football, and other sports. Also, if you want to date, that will be off the table. You are at the point where you will want to go to a dance with a girl at a school dance.” Mom was still concerned.

“Mom, I can’t look at it that way. I am not being forced. They got Vicki on the hook. They are trying to destroy her ability to go to a dance and feel good about the way a boy treats her. What she will think of herself is on the line too? What about her dignity? If my hair could restore some dignity to Cybil, then imagine how many girls will be safe going to their first dance, getting their first kiss, and having their first boyfriend because I played a girl and kept them safe. My time will come, but, as the saying goes, Ladies first.”

My mother began to cry. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She hugged me.

A little while later, they had me wired up. The plan was simple. Tell Vicki that sometime back, Josh tricked me into taking off the top of my bikini for a photo and I regretted it.

“Hey Vicki, want to help me make dinner? Have you made meatloaf before?”

“Sure I would to help, but I never have made meat loaf before.”

“It is really easy. First, we just have to mix ground pork and beef with salt, pepper, and some chopped onion, bell peppers, egg, and croutons in a bowl. Then we cover it with ketchup and bacon strips and put it into the oven at 350 for 45 minutes.”

We started to chop up the onion I preheated in the microwave and the bell pepper.

“How is your brother?”

“Good. He will be brought out of the coma in a few days.”

“Great. Any news on that creep Josh?”

“Something about him being released in a couple of days.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to see him again. Especially poolside again.”

“Poolside?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just say that he is a sweet talking creep. He talked me into something I regret doing.”

“You too, huh?”

“Umm, tell me it didn’t involve a camera too?”

“Yeah, it did. Twice.”

“Twice? Oh no, tell me what he did to you?”

“Last year, during the summer, Josh convinced me to take off my bikini top saying that I had nothing to show anyway and that one day I would want a photo of me before I became a woman. He showed me a few photos of girls I knew from school that he had taken the same way. He was there to give them their photos. I thought it was okay because they did it too. Then, this summer, he talked me into showing me my buds and quickly shot a photo of them. I was so embarrassed. I don’t know how I let him talk me into it again. I just told Harry that I need to stay away from him and found him creepy. He told my parents. So they told my brother to make sure I wasn’t around him again. They know he did something wrong, just not what. I couldn’t tell them he took a topless photo of me, could I? That is the real reason I wanted to be around you guys. In case Josh came into the room to see my brother and do something to me. It sounds like you had the same problem.”

A thought hit me. “The photos he showed you weren’t in a satchel were they? A brown one?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Dad was showing me accident photos today because he works for the city. I think I saw the satchel in a photo my Dad got of the accident. He had to calculate the force of the impact for the city. Like you, I couldn’t say anything to him about it though.”

I went over to the table with Dad’s briefcase on it, opened it, pulled off the Post-it note and brought it back to her. “This is the photo of the accident scene. Do you see the satchel that Josh was carrying with the photos of the other girls?”

“Yes, that is the satchel. Right there. Oh no! That is the one that Josh took photos out of and showed me pictures of the other girls. What are we going to do Samantha? Who has it now? The police?”

I later learned that the cops listening in to us were jumping up and down with joy. Not only had I gotten her to reveal what happened, but I got her to point out that the evidence containing Josh’s photos had been taken from the evidence locker. That gave them probable cause for a search warrant and enough ammo to really turn Josh and his dad.

“Vicki, I really trust my friend Doug. Let’s tell him and show him the accident photo. He is a kind of an older brother to me who looks out after me. He was gone when Josh convinced me to do it. But, he was with me the day of the accident and ready to stop Josh. I trust him to stop him. Okay?”

We finished the meat loaf and got it into the oven.

A few hours later, Bill came in to talk to me at Doug’s. “We confronted Josh with the recording. We also got a search warrant for his Dad’s place and found the satchel with all the photos. Josh is going to co-operate along with his dad. They don’t have a choice. This is a huge break. Thank you Sam.”

“Sir, I need to correct you.”

“What needs to be corrected?”

“No matter what, from now until my services are no longer needed, you all need to call me Samantha. Not one slip up please.”

Bill looked at me nodding his head yes. “You are right Samantha. We can’t afford to slip up at all.”

Things progressed quickly from that point. A guardian ad litem was appointed for me in addition to my parents. The guardian was necessary in case my parents weren’t available or couldn’t join me on the mission. His job was to oversee the police and make sure everything they did was in accordance with the law and I wasn’t exploited. A few days later, I found myself sitting outside a conference room door at the hospital listening for my cue. I heard Bill and Chris talking to Mrs. Casselbaum and Mary. Chris said “Now that both of you have agreed to a legal non-disclosure for what I am about to tell you, Megan, Mary, we have an undercover minor helping us to bring down child porn rings in the state. We need your silence on something. Our minor child has agreed to help us because he can pass for a girl and not get us into trouble with child porn laws ourselves. It would be bad press if we were to use a girl to bring them down. He has already exposed a major source of child porn in this area through his talents. In order to keep his cover, he will be going to be enrolled in Danvers Middle School as a girl this school year. This is his parents’ idea and he is in agreement. The problem is that in order for him to keep his cover, he needed you both to agree not to expose him because you already know him. This is for his safety. The bad guys could try to find him so they can possibly hurt him. Will you co-operate?” They said yes. “Come on in now honey.”

I entered the room. Mary and Mrs. Casselbaum gasped. “Samantha! It’s you?” said Mrs. Casselbaum.

“Oh my Samantha, I am so proud of you!” said Mary. She came up and hugged me.

Bill added, “The process of discovery by the attorneys during a trial who represent the bad guys will show that the minor in our stings is a male. They will never think to look for a girl in a school in trying to track him down. It is absolutely crucial that you, Mary, never reveal to anyone at school that Samantha is really a boy. Are you fine with helping us and Samantha?”

“I would die first. Samantha is the kindest and bravest person I know.”

Later, Bill sat down with me and Doug at Doug’s house. “We have been able to successfully turn Josh and his Dad into useful tools. They also have accepted plea deals. They are signed, sealed, and delivered. That means that the photos of a few of the children they have harmed can be returned to the victims. We want Vicki to be happy and secure. So, I think you two will enjoy this assignment. Our next job is to return to Vicki these photos of her and their negatives in a convincing manner. Any ideas?” Bill slid a manila envelope on the table towards us. We didn’t open it, but it horrified me.

“I am thinking that Doug and my Dad ought to return it to her. And my Dad could just say that Josh will never do it again. And that they are never to ask why or how. Just know that it has been done.”

“The problem with that is they will talk to other people eventually and your cover is blown. We can’t have that.”

“True. This is a sticky problem. But, I have possible solution.” Doug said.

“What would that be?”

“Have a judge return them to her and her parents.”

“What? We can’t do that without exposing the ongoing investigations.”

“Who said it had to be a real judge. It just has to be a legal looking setting with someone playing a judge. Possibly a family court judge.”

“Well, that could work. In fact, we could use that as a mechanism for returning all the photos without having to show what we are doing. Since all these cases involve minor children, a family court could intervene and even provide counseling for the children too. I will work on it.”

Vicki, her parents, and, my parents, and I sat outside a family court room waiting to be called in. Vicki and her parents went in first. About thirty minutes later, she and her parents came out. She had the biggest grin on her face. “Your next, but I think you will like it.”

I went in next. Bill came into the room. “She bought it.” A woman officer who was playing the judge grinned and showed me the burnt remains of the negatives and photos.

“So, what next?”

“We’ve got some work to do. You ready to help us catch some bad guys?”

My grin said it all.

The next few days, I worked with a policewoman on my wardrobe. Clothes were bought for me both for school and the undercover project. I had a full closet by the time they were done. We made sure that I had a range of innocence to a little trampy. She tried out different looks on me with the police psychologist who deals with these cases. I had ribbons in my hair for the first time. I was made to look younger and sort of like a cute doll.

The cop told me, “Most of these sick people get their pleasure out of destroying innocence. They like to hurt little girls. The idea is that we take shots of you dressed as these various kinds of girls they like. Then a few with your top off so the men think you have been turned out for them. Then, if they see you go into one of our mock up studios, they will start to drool. So, we have to keep your identity a secret. So, we may put a blonde wig on you and change your nose. Once we catch them, they find out in discovery that you are a boy. They may search the schools for a boy that looks like you. Of course, they will never find you.”

It was the first day of school; it was strange to be in a different school. To make things easier on me, they allowed Mrs. Duncan to teach two classes at Danvers. She would be my drama teacher for second period. She was clued into what I was doing, so, my secret assignment would be considered my acting role. She was thrilled because I could do more alterations for her at both schools. And she loved what I was doing. I loved that I got to do sewing and learn more skills from her.

I walked into my first period science class. “Hi Mary! How was your summer?”

“Oh hi, Jackie! Hey everybody, this is Jackie, Jackie Miller. I got to know her during a summer school class. She just moved into our school’s boundaries.” Mary introduced me to her friends. It all went by so fast. I caught a few of their names, but I figured that I would learn more names as time went on.

I was simply relishing being in school as a girl without having to be a boy any time during the day. I must have done a good job, because no one noticed me. Of course, they didn’t notice me when I was a boy either.

Walking the halls with Mary, I ran into Vicki. She had been warned that because of the photos with Josh, that my name was now Jackie and that they allowed me to change schools because of it too. “Enough said,” was her comment. We didn’t discuss Josh anymore.

“How is Harry doing?”

“He is up and around. He is going to school. He just can’t play football this year. They say he has to heal from his concussion first. So, he is out for the football season. To be frank, I love it. I get to see him more now. I am so happy to see you here. Middle school Is scary. Tell Jane hi for me. Nice to meet you at last Mary. I hope to hear you sing.” We hugged each other and went on. Her friends were impressed that she knew a couple of 7th graders.

“Speaking of singing, did you want to learn to sing Jackie? The teacher here is really good. His name is Mr. Thompson. I have him for 7th period.”

“I have study hall for 7th period, I guess I could switch. I’ll ask at the office.”

Walking into Mr. Thompson’s class later, Mary introduced me.

“I know most of the kids here and have heard them sing before. So, today is just auditioning new students and it looks like you are it. I need to know your voice and hear it.”

I was excited. “Do you mind if I use a guitar to sing? It’s my crutch. I am scared to death to sing without it.”

He handed me a guitar. I took the pick and clamp and tuned the guitar. I began the riff for my favorite song, “The summer sun is fading as the year grows old …”

Mr. Thompson listened patiently. He smiled and let me sing all the way to the end of the song. He noticed a few tears flowing down my cheek. The song still reminds me of Cybil.

“That was lovely Jackie. I can see you need some training, which is not unexpected, but I really like that you sing with passion. They just aren’t words to you. And we do need more accompanists in class too. You play the guitar very well. Do you play any other instrument?”

“The piano sir. I play the piano sir.” I was nervous. I was grateful that he didn’t tear apart my singing. I knew it had to be flawed.

“Wonderful, do you read music too?”

“Yes sir!”

“What kind of music do you like?”

“Anything Moody Blues, except their early work before Hayward and Lodge. I enjoy Emerson, Lake, and Palmer. I like Rick Wakeman. I also sing in French. So, now I like Jean Jacques Goldman, Francis Cabrel, and Patrick Bruel too.” I answer enthusiastically.

He heard my perfect pronunciation of their names and smiled. “Sing something to me in French.”

I adjusted the guitar. I began to play another Goldman song I like, ‘Je sais pas,’ and found my voice, and belted out lyrics like “Je sais les hiver, je sais le froid” with force. The song doesn’t require good singing because it is kind of a jazz tune. The song is half singing and half speaking. But the words are incredible to sing and almost force one to feel them as one sings them. Most songs have words that glide from one to another with the melody of the song. But, this song punches the words through the melody and accents the music making the words their very own instrument accompanying the music.

Mr. Thompson laughed. “You are determined to make my job tough, aren’t you Jackie?”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t mean …”

“No, no. I mean you are talented. You don’t just don’t sing the words. You feel them. You pour your heart into them. I spend half the year just teaching my students to get to that point. And there you are coming out of the gate right away singing like you mean it. I don’t speak French, but I felt your words and what they meant.”

“Thank you, sir, that is very kind of you to say.”

“Mary, did you say that you sang with her this summer?”

“Yes Mr. Thompson. Mrs. Duncan said she had talent.”

“Can I get you both to sing something together? Except, I want to hear you play piano.”

He led me to a piano, I sat and looked at Mary. “There is only one song we have done together Mr. Thompson. Do you remember it Mary?”

“How could I forget Jackie?”

I began to play ‘Something There’ and we started to sing together. I could tell we had more fun with it this time. We made the roles of the speakers more real.

Mr. Thompson said. “Looks like we are going to have a fun year Jackie. Just to warn you, I am going to bring in the French teacher to hear you too. Don’t tell anyone, but, she happens to be my sister.” He winked at me and smiled.

The final bell of the day rang and I said my goodbyes. I worked my way out front and finally spotted my ride. An unmarked police car was there to pick me up. It was weird to be chauffeured home. I skipped inside happy as I could be.

“How was your first day at school honey?” Mom was just getting ready to make dinner after subbing that day. She looked tired.

I ran up to my mother and hugged her, “It was great. I got to sing. I switched my 7th period study hall to choir. The teacher is awesome. He thinks I am talented as a singer. And I was really excited to have Mrs. Duncan for second period drama. She is the coolest teacher. I have Mary in several of my classes and she is introducing me to people. And I saw Vicki. Harry is doing much better. He has to stay out of football.” I was never this chatty before. “Can I make dinner for us tonight? You look tired.” I started to peel some potatoes she had next to the sink.

“Sure, I would love that. So, you don’t mind being a girl at school?” My mother looked concerned. She sat down and watched me make dinner.

“No, not really. I never fit in anyway. And to tell you the truth, the fact that the guys don’t talk to me because I don’t have a chest like a girl should have isn’t very different from when they didn’t talk to me because I didn’t have the height that I should have. At least I am not the smallest boy in class. The only real difference this year is that I go into the nurse’s office to go the bathroom. Although, I am a lot less lonely in a dress than when I was in jeans. I never talked to anybody like I did today before.”

“That is true, aside from Doug, you have never had a friend over to visit until Vicki. Are you noticing girls yet?” Mom seemed kind of forlorn.

“You mean like Robert does? No way, not yet. I hope I never do like he does. I eavesdropped on a few of the girls talking about how cute some boy was or who they are interested in dating. I overheard a few of the boys talking about girls. I think I am just going to stick with singing and the stuff I like. Besides, if I do start to like girls, I will tell you right away. I just think I am going to have a good year in school, that’s all. It is nice not to be picked on or the one they are always pointing at and making fun of.” I couldn’t believe how chatty I had become. I finished peeling the potatoes and washed them off. I put them on a cutting board.

“Girls do that too, you know. So, you may get picked on by them. They can turn on you just as easily as the boys can. Even worse, they will try and emotionally damage you too. Boys play fair. Girls don’t. They form cliques and target girls they don’t like.” She watched me cut the potatoes into scallops.

I stopped and looked out the window feeling deflated, “Seems like you can’t win no matter what sex one is in school? So, I guess it doesn’t matter who I am, boy or girl. Mom, do you think you can work at Danvers? If you were there, I would have someone I could run to in case I need help.” I went back to work on the scallops.

“Good idea. Let me ask Bill if that could be arranged. It might help if you have someone there to help you deal with school. As I think about it, you are right. You aren’t in the mainstream of students. Maybe that is why you don’t care if people see you as a boy or a girl.” That seemed to brighten her outlook.

“It’s a lot easier for me if I am making a difference. When I think of everything I endured so Cybil could find a moment of happiness, I found I could ignore it. When I know that I will stop a girl like Vicki from being abused by someone like Josh, it all seems worth it too.”

I hugged my mom before I continued making dinner. “Thank you for letting me do this. I would rather be a girl in school with a sense of purpose than a boy with nothing to look forward to do other than taking classes.”

Dad came home a little later and said that Bill was coming over to talk. Jane was either working or taking classes at the community college. Our once busy house was down to the three of us. I was, I guess, an only child now. The bright spot every night was Doug coming over for dinner. Bill came in through the back door. I don’t know why, but he looked over his shoulder.

I had cooked a pork tenderloin with a brown sugar and Dijon mustard glaze. I made scalloped potatoes. I had asparagus with a light sauce. And brownies for dessert.

Bill was eating with us and thanked my Mom for cooking such a wonderful dinner. When he heard that I made it all, he looked at me as though he could not believe I was so talented. “Mom taught me a lot over the last several years. I love to cook too. I find it relaxing. Here, please have a brownie for dessert. I make them with chocolate chips to make them more like fudge. I find if I freeze the chips before cooking, they keep more of their shape in the oven.”

The five of us sat at the dinner and talked. Bill was disturbed that I didn’t have study hall for 7th period. He wanted to be able to get me out of class quickly if he needed me. I told him not to worry. Choir is an elective and is on a pass fail basis. And, I felt that I could miss the odd class. He began to discuss briefly what would become my first mission.

Regardless, I had helped win our first battle. I played a key role in turning Josh and saved Vicki from a life of exploitation. That was a great way to start the war on crime. And Dad had turned me into a girl 24/7. I was happy. Maybe too happy.

We finally had a chance to be alone when I walked across the street with Doug. Doug sat down with me and said that the chance for me to be a girl for the rest of the school year had altered my timeline and we needed to discuss possible outcomes. He showed me a growth chart, a puberty chart, and a Tanner Chart. He explained that he would start giving me hormones in October to start my female puberty. His target was for me to start budding by the late fall of eighth grade when I was almost fourteen. By then, he said, “you might be diagnosed as having male boobs. But, I found records of your sister’s growth through sneaky means and made subtle inquires of your mother’s development. I don’t think you will bud that soon. You will start developing real breasts quickly between the summer ninth and tenth grade though. Until then, you can just say you have man boobs if they do show up. That is, if my plans don’t pan out.” He just smiled at me.

“I want you to think about this timeline. But, given that you are going to be a girl for the next year, I think it will work.”

I am midway to where I want to be in this battle to be what I was meant to be.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner (revised March 2017)

[Author's Note: I have corrected Samantha's age. The important thing for the reader to remember is that her perception of size is based on her not seeing that she is behind her classmates in size because of being the youngest and a late bloomer. Not uncommon for a boy. I did the same thing. Always thought I was the smallest and a runt until in between my sophomore and junior year I caught up. I hit 5' 10", one inch above average height for a US male. I started school at age five, not six. I know my youngest is five inches over many boys in his class at age ten and is the oldest in his class. -- AuP]

Chapter 12 – Thesaurus Rex

Mr. Thompson spoke to the class. “You need to see yourself as an instrument. Take care of that instrument. Good posture. Good conditioning. Good warm ups. And Good fun. Make warm ups fun. Enjoy them. Because if you learn to enjoy them, the rest is easy. Think about it this way. If I brought in a football uniform, and said put it on, and you did. Would you be ready to play football? No. Of course not. You don’t have the training yet. You may not have the desire. You may not have the talent. The first thing every day when you come in, I want you all to begin your warmups for five to seven minutes. Ten minutes into the class, we will begin every Monday with learning in small groups, organized by your vocal range, a new piece of music every week. “

“By Wednesday, we will blend it all together. And by Friday, we will complete it. I have given you each your small group list. Get together and get to know each other. Your first concert here on Friday is our warm up. For those of you that have been in past classes, we will also sing songs we have learned before. We will start with new music next week. Jackie and Mary, would you come talk to me please.”

And so began my vocal training making me my third instrument to learn. Mr. Thompson had me throw away my crutch. He taught me how to do warm ups standing next to the piano and had Mary do them with me. He showed me how to breath. She instructed me as well because she could touch me in places he couldn’t. Then he spent time finding my vocal range. “You are an alto with a nice strong voice. It helps that you have perfect pitch too. You will probably become a soprano as puberty hits. I can already hear Mary becoming a mezzo-soprano now, but she used to be a pure alto. That’s puberty for you. Eventually, she will become a soprano. I want you to do your warm ups every morning. You can use the keyboard in your home to help you do that Jackie.”

Mr. Thompson went to work with the other students while Mary talked to me and showed me how to do warm ups at home. She whispered in my ear, “It would be nice to be off in a corner to talk to Samantha. I have been wanting to talk to you. I have some questions. But this is not the place. Can we talk after class?”

“My ride is waiting, but I think I can give you a few minutes if you know a place where we can talk.”

We found a nook after class where we could be alone.

“I think it is obvious that Mr. Thompson wants us to pair us up. We get along and he knows we have worked together before. So, I was wondering if you could either come home with me or I come home with you if that is the way he is going. I know your situation obviously. Can you check out what will work?”

“How do you get home?”

“I take the bus, so you would need to get permission, but it could work out. Here is my address.” She handed me a piece of paper with her address on it and phone number. I quickly wrote down mine and handed it to her.

“I will check it out. They are giving me a ride at the moment, but I think that needs to change. I would love to practice with you Mary. You have been so good for me.”

“It’s easy. You have a wonderful heart for people. Have to go catch my bus. Talk to you tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed.” We hugged and ran off.

Mom greeted me at the door. “I have good news. I talked to Bill today and he has arranged a special job for me at the school. They need a remedial teacher to bring up the skills of certain students and they can use me as a one on one tutor during the day. The pay is more than a substitute but less than a full time teacher. So, I would be in the office and be able to leave with you at the end of the day. That means I can drive you to and from school. Plus, you can see me during the day if you need help. It also turns out that I am cheaper than the cop who drives you to and back from school. How was school?”

“It was very nice. I think I am really going to like my singing class.” I threw my arms around her and hugged her. “I love you Mom. Thank you for arranging this. It really solves a big problem that just came up.”

“What problem?”

“Mary wants to come and practice singing with me. I cannot believe it. No one has ever wanted to come and see me at home. Jane and Robert had friends come all the time to the house and, except for Vicki, I haven’t ever had any friend ever. Well, there is Doug. But he is almost like family.”

“Yeah, Doug is family. Speaking of which, can you go tell him that I need his help. The garbage disposal isn’t working and he knows how to get it unjammed.”

After crossing the street and telling him, I found myself kneeling next to Doug who was lying on his back poking his head underneath the sink. “So, is this the Mary from summer? Hand me that hex wrench please.” Doug wiggled the disposal somehow after I handed it to him.

“Yes, she is.”

“There, that should do it. Turn on the water and then the disposal.” I did and it was working again.

Doug got up, put the hex wrench back in the tool box and closed it up. And then he sat down at the breakfast table. “It will be nice to see her again. She is fun and cute.” Doug blushed at what he just said.

“You like her don’t you?” I pinched him and then sat down.

“Well, I have helped her mother out with the installation of software for the hospital. So, I have seen her on occasion since. She is always nice to me.” He had a dreamy smile on his face.

I hadn’t thought about it, but Doug had been growing. He was about five four now and had lost a lot of his baby fat. He looked like a younger version of Pierce Brosnan with brown hair. He had to fight his acne, but except for that, he was turning into a handsome man. I found myself longing for puberty to start. I recently was measured and I am four foot nine now.

Mom walked up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder, “Am I going to have to chaperone you Doug when Mary is around?” Doug turned beet red.

He squeaked out with his changing voice, “Maybe. It’s just that I don’t get to know girls my age in high school. I liked working with her during the summer. It would be nice to take someone to the Junior and Senior Prom this year. It will be my last chance.” I had forgotten that he had done so well in school, he was senior now.

Feigning being jilted, I said, “Well, here I thought that Mary was interested in me when she really wants to be with you. That’s fine. I’ll take it. And it sounds like I need to learn how to make a tux.” Mom and I giggled. Doug blushed again.

I went off to spend time with the triplets and enjoy some baby time. I left Mom and Doug talking about where he wanted to go to college.

The next day, during 2nd period Drama, I was surprised to see Mr. Thompson walking in to talk to Mrs. Duncan. I overheard him say to her, “No, really, you have got to be kidding me!” He then looked over at me with a big grin. “No, No, I promise I won’t abuse her. Thanks Georgette!” Mr. Thompson winked at me and waved at me to come over. Mrs. Duncan beamed at me too. Something is up.

“Yes sir.”

“I just asked Mrs. Duncan if she could lend me her magical tailor who has done work for us before because I want to make some madrigal outfits and then she told me that all I needed to do was ask my brand new student to do the work because she is her little miracle worker.”

I blushed. “Yes, of course, I would love to help.” Oh no, not again.

We had finished our warm ups and I had just given Mary the good news about my Mom working at the school. Mr. Thompson called the class to attention. “Now, most of you here were in my class last year. We had a lot of fun didn’t we?” Everyone nodded yes. “Do you remember those outfits that we all bought and sent over to another school to have altered for us?”

Grace Bowers piped up and said, “Yes, we were surprised by how fast they were done. We were expecting it to take a month and we had them back in three days. Whoever did that work was awesome. It would be great to use them again. My parents were thrilled too because of all the money we saved.”

“Precisely Grace. Well, I have some great news for you all. I am putting off working on our competition singing until January. I have found a way we can pay for the competition at the end of March without breaking the bank like we have done in years past for each of you. We are going to do Madrigals this Christmas around town to earn money for the competition in spring. So, we will be learning some classical pieces that can be sung during the Christmas season. For example, next week we will start with the ‘Coventry Carol.’ We could earn as much as $400 per night we book events.”

I began to retreat behind Mary trying to hide. She grinned because she knew what was coming.

“Now, in order to do this, I talked to Mrs. Duncan this morning asking her if we could borrow that awesome tailor to help make our outfits which ought to be a lot cheaper than the tickets and hotels will cost for the competition.” He had a smile that wouldn’t stop. “And guess what I found out guys?”

Grace couldn’t wait, “Tell us Mr. Thompson, tell us. You look like you swallowed the cat that swallowed the canary.”

“Come on up please Jackie.” I walked forward to him and stood next to him. “Class, I am pleased to announce that the magical tailor who did all that fantastic work for us last year turns out to be our newest student right here, Jackie Miller.” Everyone applauded and cheered. I pulled up the side hems of my dress and curtseyed.

“Here, Julian, would you hand out these papers. Okay, I want each of you to go over the photos on each of the pages and vote for your favorite. Please number your choices first, second, third, and fourth choice for our madrigal outfits. Jackie, can you look over the photos here and mark which ones you don’t think you can do.”

The place was abuzz with happy students. They kept looking at me and smiling and then they would discuss what outfits they liked and then laugh. I looked through the photos. I only found one that I didn’t want to do. Not because of difficulty, but because the fabric would tear too easily and I didn’t think it would last past three performances. I told Mr. Thompson that and he agreed. After ten minutes, he collected the results and instructed Mary and me to tabulate the results.

The consensus was a two-piece outfit for the girls. A nice long red skirt that nearly touched the ground and a black velour long sleeved blouse top. For the men, a simple black suit with a white shirt and a tie that was made from the same color as the skirts. Red and black were the school colors. It could be used for madrigals and for school functions.

“Mr. Thompson, can you please get me the pattern for number 10 and I will check out the costs of fabric tonight and let everyone know how much it will cost to buy the fabric.”

“How fast do you think you could knock out the outfits?”

“This is an estimate, but given the design and time to measure everyone here, two weeks after I measure everyone. I could measure four or five people a day next week. I would have everyone’s measurements by Friday. If I arrange everyone by size and then streamline it, I could do about three outfits a day during drama class. By the way Mr. Thompson, Mrs. Duncan is letting me use acting work I did during the summer for my grade. So, I am not expected to do anything more than tailor work anyway and passing her written tests. So, three weeks and for sure you will have the outfits.”

“Excellent. But, you are here to learn too. I don’t want you to fall behind. So, don’t rush. The outfits are needed until November. But, if they are ready by the first week of October, that would be fine too.

Grace came up to me afterwards and said, “You know Jackie I thought you sounded awesome during your audition. I am so glad you are in our class. Did I see you playing the guitar and the piano too?”

“Yes. I am not the best, but I am competent.”

“I can tell that this is going to be a fantastic year. Thanks for doing this for us.”

After she walked away, Mary said, “She is jealous of you and I. I think that is why Mr. Thompson wants us to pair up. Choirs can be the worst cliques in the school. He knows there is going to be a tug of war in the class because whoever has you in their pocket will be able to do solos.”

“Good to know Mary. I think I have already made my choice. I choose the one who helped me with Cybil. She earned my respect and loyalty for life.” I teared up and hugged her. “So, can you assist me in taking measurements next week. That way our friendship is there for everyone to see on display?” She nodded yes.

I went over immediately to Mr. Thompson. “Sir, can I ask one favor?”

“What is it Jackie?”

“I don’t do well with politics. I have been a wall flower for most of my life. I can see that I am becoming a hot item because I play instruments. I am not good at handling girls who will fight over me. If it is not too much to ask, Mary is a close friend. I want her to be my mentor in class. Could you please let me be her shadow?”

“I understand Jackie. You will have to come out of her shadow one day, but Mary is a no nonsense girl. I think you are sensible to ask this. I had planned to have you pair up with a few other girls and help them, but because you know your limitations and have expressed your concerns, I will honor them. Consider yourself Mary’s shadow. I will make it clear to everyone that you two have been friends forever and to be on your good side is to treat Mary nicely if they wish to use your talents.”

“Thank you, sir.” I was happy for my Mom’s warning.

I was surprised and excited to see Mom come to Mr. Thompson’s class room door to pick me up today. She told me that she was starting tomorrow and I was thrilled. I told her about the outfits for the choir and about what Mary said. I told her about my conversation with Mr. Thompson. Mom said, “Good. I am glad you listened to me the other day. Grace could be the nicest and sweetest girl in the world, but if she sees you as a means to her advancing her agenda, she could turn vicious to Mary. I will talk to Mr. Thompson too. I would suggest that you don’t limit yourself to Mary. It may be best for you two to practice at home and then Mary will be considered less of a threat to the other girls. Oh, Doug had a suggestion. We are going to leave a faux medication at the office. When you have to go to the bathroom or visit the office, you will take a pill. That will give the impression that you are avoiding the bathrooms has a medical reason. Doug says that it is for a urinary tract infection commonly known as a UTI. He will tell you about it later.”

When we got home, we got a call from Bill, they needed me for a performance the next day. He would come over tonight and discuss it over dinner. Apparently, he likes my cooking too. I just keep being everyone’s treasure. That gives me a warm feeling. Thesaurus used to mean treasure. So, I guess I am a Thesaurus Rex.

Bill began his pitch. “Hmmm, this chicken casserole is amazing Samantha, thank you. Okay, on the side of town, near the old railroad depot, there is a property with an old abandoned barn. It is scenic and the kind of place a photographer takes pictures with their soon to be brides, engaged couples, wedding photos, etc. But, it is all ours. There is a house where our agents can talk to our perps about business. What we want to do is to have you being photographed by our faux photographer and for him to convince you to take off your top. Then the two of you will disappear into the barn. All they will see is flash bulbs from that point on. You will be whisked out of there and will be staying nearby in case we need you. After you are done, we will spot you a nice dinner at McDonalds and send you home.”

“Can my Mom come along?”

“Certainly.”

“Can Mary come too?”

“You know …”

Chris interjected, “That may not be a bad idea Bill. It would help Samantha further if she has a close friend who knows what she is doing. It will give her someone to talk to when she needs a friend.”

“Okay, your Mom and Mary can watch the rehearsal. Then they can be with you until needed.”

“What are you hoping to get out of this, Bill?” Mom asked.

“The names of victims so we can help them. If they think we have a magical place with the latest tech and a really good photographer, then they may use our facility. Every time they bring a young girl they are victimizing, we can save one more victim. Samantha is going to be the honey that draws these flies into a trap. We figure we can run this sting for months with other agencies too. We want to keep going until we have done as much damage as possible to these people.”

Mom hugged me. “My Samantha is saving girls. I am so proud of her.”

“Is it worth my being a girl for a year now, Mom?”

“Yes it is!”

The next day, Mom drove me to school. During lunch, I pulled Mary aside and asked, “Did you want to come with me today and help capture bad guys?”

“Sounds exciting.”

“They contacted your Mom. She said yes. Thank you for coming.”

Later, they drove us in a van to the site. Mom and Mary watched as the fake photographer and his assistant taught me how to accept a slap from them as though I had been really slapped. We rehearsed the scene several times. I would hold a blanket up to me. The photographer would rip it away. Then pretend slap me to get me to expose me chest. Take some photos and then we would disappear into the barn. The scene only lasted a minute or so. Then they also had a stand in so I could see it from different angles and understand what I was doing and appreciate its presentation to the people in the house.

We waited in the barn. A light came on. We went into our performance. It felt so real that I started to cry and scream “No, please.” I got faux slapped and dropped my arms as I was instructed. A part of me realized that in the future, this would be wrong once I was a girl. And then we scurried into the barn. I got dressed again and we headed to the safe house. An hour later, we got the all clear. They didn’t take us to McDonalds. It was a Wendy’s instead.

“I can’t believe someone would treat a girl like that! How did it feel to act it?” Mary asked.

“Chilling. I felt a little cheap and degraded. I am glad they worked with me though to help me understand it was an act. But the moment I went on stage, you know, acted the part, it felt all too real.” I said.

“If you need to talk to me about future times you do this, I am here for you Sam.” Mary put her arm around me to reassure me that she was my friend forever.

Bill came by our table as we were eating and softly said. “We are looking at getting about thirty names out of this one Samantha. Good job!” We high fived each other.

We took Mary home. “Tomorrow, your place for real?”

“Yes, for real.”

“And, will Doug be there?”

“I think so. Do you want me to send him away?”

“Oh no, I just haven’t seen him in a while. It will be nice to see him again.”

“Oh, okay.”

Mom and I giggled all the way back home. “I saw that a dance is coming up at school the first week of October.” Mom said.

“You think Mary should invite him to the dance?” I was playing a matchmaker.

“Yes I do. Mind if I teach him to dance using you? It would be nice to pay Doug back for all the nice things he has done for us.”

“Nope. I like the way you think Mom. They would make a nice couple. I know it is hard on Doug not to be able to enjoy what the other kids in his class enjoy.”

When we got home, Mom informed Doug that he was going to take dancing lessons with me. Doug just blushed and said, “Ah Mom, do I have to?” The grin on his face said yes though. Mom hugged him and said, “Yes son, you do!”

She called and set us up for a Saturday dance class nearby with a friend of hers from school. Doug and I would be learning to dance for the next few weekends.

At school the next day, at lunch, Mary was excited to hear that I would be taking dancing lessons with Doug. She though it was sweet that I would help him, but dropped a loud hint that she would love to be taking the class with him instead and be the one to go with him to the dance. We were sitting together at a table all by ourselves when Grace came over.

“Mind if I sit with you guys?”

“Sure.” Said Mary.

“Oh, thank you. I have been wanting to get to know you better Samantha. I didn’t realize that you and Mary had known each other before.”

“Well, we have gotten to know each other because of a mutual friend by the name of Doug. His parents work at the hospital as does my mother. He and Samantha are like sister and brother. Anyway, what is new with you?”

“Well, I haven’t had anyone ask me to the dance next month. But I am hopeful that John Thorton will ask me to the dance.” Grace was slowly working up to what she wanted to ask. I could tell by the way she avoided eye contact with me and kept her eyes on Mary. I was just as happy that she did.

She finally had the courage to speak. “I was wondering about the competition in the spring. It occurred to me that the format for the competition requires us to have at least six solos in our repertoire, evenly divided, at least three boys and three girls.”

“Six is the minimum, Grace, you know that.” Mary said.

“Yes, I do. My point is that I really would like to win. I mean for us to win. I want us to have options and take advantage of our Christmas madrigals at the same time. So, I got to thinking that if there is a piano arrangement of the Coventry Carol, I would like to learn to do a solo for it and add it to the list. So, I guess what I am asking is if Samantha would be willing to accompany me on the piano? Do you think that would be a good idea Mary?”

“Interesting question.” Mary said. “When we get together in our small group this next week to practice, let’s give it a try. If the group agrees, then I bet Samantha will agree too.” I realized that Mr. Thompson had told Grace that she had to go through Mary. I was happy. I nodded in agreement. Mary was officially my agent.

“Excuse me, but I really have to go to the bathroom. See you at choir.” I said.

“Oh, Samantha, I notice you have to use the bathroom in the office. Why?”

“I had a urinary tract infection. I have to take a pill every time and they need to test the PH of my urine. Have you ever eaten asparagus, Grace?”

“Yes.”

“Have you notice you smell it afterwards when you pee.”

“Um, yeah. Kind of gross.”

“Well, it is the same thing with me. The drug I take washes out in my urine every time I pee. So, going to the office is the way the nurse makes sure I stay on top of my infection not coming back. It is a bit of a pain, but way better than the UTI I had.”

Later, in 7th period, I had figured out the cost per student for their outfits. $57 dollars for the girls. $46 for the boys. Everyone was thrilled. Mr. Thompson had the fabric ordered and I would be able to pick it up on Saturday after dance class. So, as opposed to starting my measurements the following week, I ask Mr. Thompson if we could just forgo the concert on Friday and let me measure everyone at once. All were in agreement.

So, Friday, I began with Dean Pilsner. He was a nice looking boy of German descent. Blond and blue eyed. “Hi Dean, I am going to be measuring you with Mary’s help. Stand straight and tall please. Okay?”

“O-okay.” Dean stuttered badly, but he sang beautifully.

Mary and I started talking as though Dean wasn’t there as I measured his shoulders, sleeves, chest, and waist. “Would you be okay with me taking dancing lessons with Doug instead of you and going to the dance with him? Sadly. it means you won’t have anybody to take you to the dance Jackie.” Mary winked at me because she knew I realized she was just teasing about my going to the dance. I said, “Oh sure Mary. I think it’s so sweet. I know how Doug feels about you and I know he will say yes. And I can see now that the feeling is mutual.” Mary blushed. I then pretended to be sad and pouted. “Even though I know it means there will be no one to take me to the dance, sniff, sniff.”

Just then, this beautiful voice sang out, “Baby, do you want dance?” from the beach boys. It was Dean. I blushed. All the girls giggled. Dean looked at me and smiled with the most pleading look. Mary looked amused and was biting her tongue.

How was I going to take the next measurement and not get laughed at by everyone? All I needed was his inseam. And he was asking me to the dance in the only way he could. Someone who stutters can sing without a stutter. I did the only thing I could, I punted. I knew that was a football term, but I did it anyway. I prayed I did it right and through the up thingies.

“I will have to ask my Mom’s permission.” By then, everyone heard I was the kid of the new teacher. “I’ll ask her after class, okay Dean?” I didn’t want to embarrass him, so I added with a coy smile, “But I would love to go to the dance with you. Thank you for asking me Dean. You know how to make a girl feel special.” Oh boy, I put my foot in it.

“T-thank y-you.” He smiled and blushed. I took the last measurement hoping no one noticed.

By the end of the class period, I had everyone’s measurements but mine and Mary’s. I figured that I could get those tonight with my Mom’s help. The buzzer rang. I got my backpack and went over to Dean. He smiled and took my hand in his. I felt like melting. We walked down the hallways of the school to the office with him leading me all the way. I could tell he was excited. And so damn adorable with that smile of his. I knocked on my mother’s open door. She was still settling in. She put down a box of books and turned around to look at us. Mary followed us and arrived just in time. “Mom? I need your permission for somebody here.”

“What honey?” She saw Dean was holding my hand. And then she looked at Mary standing behind us with a smirk on her face. Her face spoke both of concern and amusement.

I pointed to Mary. “Mary wants to learn to dance with Doug on Saturdays and Dean Just asked me to the school dance. I said yes only if I had your permission.” My eyes pleaded with her to say no.

“Dean, what are your intentions with my daughter?” Mom got the message and did what she thought Dad would do. However, Mom’s voice lacked Dad’s intimidation. Testosterone does have its uses.

“N-nothing, M-mrs. M-miller. I j-just lik-ke her.” He stuttered out a nervous reply.

My Mom melted. How was she going to find a way to release me from my bond seeing that the handicap of this handsome boy who stutters knowing it made it hard for him to ask anyone to a dance. She knew saying no would crush this poor boy’s dreams of ever getting over his stutter.

“Okay, you have my permission. But only if you take the Saturday morning dance classes with Jackie.” I prayed that her fast thinking would save the day.

“S-sure.” Dean just beamed. I was done for in an instant.

Mom took a piece of paper and wrote down an address and a phone number. Meet us at this place tomorrow at 10:30. I have a friend who has a ballet studio and is going to do a simple dance class for Mary and Doug. She can do it for you and Jackie too. Can you do it?

Dean nodded yes. He then leaned over and hugged me. He waved bye, “S-see you t-tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait.” I answered back trying to sound happy.

I looked back at Mom as he went out of earshot, she said, “I tried honey, I tried.”

“I know; I couldn’t say no to him either. And it is all your fault Mary!” I lightly slapped her on the arm.

“I’m sorry Samantha, I didn’t know he was going to ask you in front of everyone like that. It was really so sweet though how he did it too Mrs. Miller.”

Mom laughed as Mary told her the story and she agreed it was sweet when she heard how he used a Beach Boys tune to ask me out to a dance. We giggled about it on the way home. Then Mom told Mary how my Dad asked her out the first time. Now we were really laughing. My poor Dad, if he only knew.

Doug walked in with us to the house. I told Doug that Dean was coming tomorrow and that he would have to dance with Mary instead. They just looked at each other and smiled. It was clear to everyone how they felt about each other. Mary, Doug, and I laid out the pattern for the new madrigal outfits. I would have to get a master outfit made and then make adjustments off of that one. Believe it or not, Doug showed me a really efficient way to do that. We found the largest girl in the class and I set about making a master pattern around her. All of his genius in Calculus paid off. Doug made notes on each outfit with the corrections I would need to make off of the master pattern for that outfit. He and I did the same thing for the boys. While I was working on it later, Doug and Mary were talking. It was nice to be there on the ground floor of their budding romance.

When it came time for Mary to go home, I let Mom drive her home with Doug and her in the car’s back seat. She asked him if he would go with her to the school dance even though he wasn’t a student at our school. He said yes. He walked her to the door and said goodnight. Mom and I just smiled at each other.

“Look, they are becoming lovebirds Mom.”

“Yes, isn’t it sweet?” We giggled.

I had two close friends now. And my life as a girl was getting better and better.

The outfits were far easier to make than I thought. I found that I was able to cut out all of the skirts that evening along with the tops. I figured that I could have them done by next Friday if I put my mind to it.

It had been a long day. Jane came in and we sat at the dining room table while she got a late dinner. She was impressed with my cooking. I brought her up to date on my school, the outfits, what Mom said about girls, Doug and Mary, the sting, and my going to the dance with Dean.

“Sam, it sounds like you are having fun. But dating a boy?”

“Yeah, I know. But, I am having fun. That is something I haven’t had before. I am actually getting to know people. I even forgot that I didn’t even babysit today. Although, Mrs. Smith said the babies would be fine today if I skipped it for one day.”

Dad came in and sat down with us. “I heard from Chris today. They are thrilled with your work. They admire how conscientious you are and willing to do what is needed to bring down the bad guys. The have told me that an FBI sting may be using you in the next week. In fact, you may have to do some travelling soon.”

I woke up in the morning and went with shorts and a t-shirt. It was on the warm side, so I ate and then headed over to babysit at the Smith’s. “Mrs. Smith, I am sorry for being such a flake this week. It was the first week of school and I was swamped with finding out where I needed to be and what I needed to do.”

“That is okay. If you would, can you introduce to me back up? I think by now you must know girls that can help you out.”

“I think I have a connection that may help me with that, but it will have to wait until Monday.”

I was back home by 10:00. Doug came across the street dressed nicely. It put the pressure on me so I ran upstairs. Since I had an almost full closet and dresser now, I was very happy. I put on a nice dress with a flower print and came downstairs. At Mom’s insistence, I wore heels. I hadn’t seen my boy clothes in months it seemed like. I had a bunch of girl shoes and a nice complement of clothes I didn’t have to make.

Mom drove us to a strip mall where there was a dance studio for ballet. Mrs. Cox went to school with my Mom. She was doing this as a special favor because she was hoping for more girls to find out about her studio. She wasn’t hurting for clientele. But she knew she needed good will and word of mouth. “Hi Denise, thank you for doing this.”

“No problem, Pamela. I didn’t realize that you had another daughter.”

“Yes, she didn’t express interest in dance until very recently. And that was because she was asked to go to a dance at school.”

It was 10:25 and Dean showed up first with his mom. I had to admit, he was sort of handsome. Even with his braces. Then Mary showed up. All the parents sat in chairs and chatted about us as we learned how to dance. Mrs. Cox showed us the foxtrot, the rumba, the cha cha cha, and the waltz briefly with a male partner whom I assume was Mr. Cox.

Dean and I prepared to do the foxtrot. I smiled as Dean took my right hand and we placed our hands on our partner’s shoulder blade. I looked up into his eyes and I was transfixed. It was my job to follow his lead. I had to look to him to guide me on the dance floor. For someone who stutters, I was surprised to find that his moves were fluid and graceful. Mary, I could tell, was questioning her decision to learn with Doug who wasn’t as graceful as Dean. I ignored hearing their mistakes and found myself getting lost in Dean’s blue eyes and following his every move as he guided me around the dance floor. Mrs. Cox, sensing that Dean was a natural, showed us some variations which included an underarm turn. The only thing I didn’t like about it was that I had to turn away to look where I was and then use his body as a means of turning while he watched me. My experience in ice skating let me make it a graceful turn and soon, we were not only doing the foxtrot, but I was being guided by him into an underarm turn, a promenade, and a sway step variation. I was in heaven.

By the time the session was done, Mary and Doug were much better. And Dean and I were becoming pretty good dancers. I hated to hear that it was over. I enjoyed being in his arms and at his command. We said our goodbyes. I excused our departure on the need to do the madrigal outfits for the class. But, I really wish I could have stayed and talked to Dean. I gave him a hug before he left and said I enjoyed dancing with him.

On the drive back, Mom said, “Sam, you were doing very well. Dean’s Mom was very impressed with you. She said her son really likes you. I’d be careful. You know that you don’t want to lead him on by accident.” I looked over at Doug in the front seat. He read my mind. He knew I was enjoying it and wanted more.

I chose my words carefully, “Dean is a skillful dancer. He made me look good. I will be careful not to hurt him Mom. Thank you for your words of caution.” My heart sank. I was falling for Dean.

During my neutral week, Doug had removed my implant. So, lately, he was giving me oral drugs to keep my boy hormones in check. His recently blood tests showed that my body was trying to start puberty but was in check. After my becoming a secret agent, he decided to go ahead and start me on female hormones. He decided to go with pills since it was easier to adjust dosages and it would give me a slow and progressive puberty rather than a fast one. It would also let me better control my emotions. I was elated to realize that I was going to be starting female puberty at last. My work in helping end child exploitation was giving me an avenue to move forward with me dream. My parents saw me as a girl every day. And I was a girl 24/7.

Doug got serious for a moment. “Sam, I think Mary knows. I think she knows you are transgender.”

“Do you think she will out me?”

“No, but I think she will help us. I just need you to know that I plan to handle it. If I have to ask you, I want you to say to her that she should just listen to me and that I have your back.”

I spent the afternoon working on the outfits. I talked to Mrs. Smith earlier and she dropped off her babies and their potable cribs in our place. So, while I finished the sewing the girl’s skirts and tops, I watched the babies too. Jane was there to help too along with my mother. By the time Mrs. Smith picked up her babies, I had the girl outfits done.

Sunday, we did much the same thing. By the end of the day, I had all the boys done too.

Monday morning, Mom and I loaded up the car early and took the completed outfits into Mr. Thompson’s classroom and hung them up with each student’s name on their outfit. When he came in, he was thrilled. He and my mom had a really nice chat too. All about me it seems.

During second period drama, I talked to Mrs. Duncan who said she would ask at my old school if someone lived in my neighborhood and see if there weren’t a few new girls I could call upon to do babysitting chores at Mrs. Smith’s house.

I had couple of times during the day I was sick to my stomach and had to run to the bathroom. But, I was okay. I smiled because I knew that my female puberty was starting.

Doug and Mary went for a walk after we got home. They were gone for about an hour. When they came in, Mary had tears in her eyes and came up and hugged me. She whispered in my ear, “I love you. I will help you in your journey too. This explains so much. I have been wanting to ask you.”

I teared up and said back in hers, “Thank you. I love you too. Thank you for helping me.”

Nothing more was ever said after that. Doug would still be my go to person. But, from that point on, I knew I had two friends helping me on my journey.

Doug informed me that I needed to trust him because he had a good plan. Just enjoy being useful to the government. Let them extend my being a girl to the end of the next year where I might do a brief stint in Canada as an exchange student. He had a devilish smile and I knew that whatever he had planned would be incredible.

Tuesday, Mary came with me to talk to Mrs. Smith. Realizing that my undercover work was so important, she made arrangements to cover for me on those days I would be called out to serve. My mother would drive her home. A side benefit was her being able to see Doug.

Mom, Doug, and I headed out with Bill one night. I found myself in what they called a safe house. We sat down with my guardian ad litem with several agencies present to discuss the course of how I would be used for the next ten months or more. I am not at all sure all who was there. I heard ATF and FBI. I also heard Secret Service. There were about five agents there in addition to Bill and Chris. Three woman and two men. I had dressed my best at Bill’s request. I wore the dress I wore to the funeral and was wearing nice hoop earrings, had done my hair up nicely by Mom and Jane, had red nail polish, and then Mom helped do my makeup. I wore the tan shoes I wore to the dance. I liked them with this dress. And, I wore the stocking Mom bought me for the dress. The purse I carried was a simple purple one that hung over my shoulder. It had my lip gloss which I had used earlier. I wore a nice open sweater too. I looked all girl. Bill explained it as they didn’t want to see a boy in drag. They needed to see a girl.

I smoothed my dress under me and sat down at a table to talk to everyone. By their reactions, I was all girl.

Bill said, “You are here Samantha so they can get to know you better. Then, your Guardian and the agents will arrange times they can use you for their sting operations.”

“I understand. Please, feel free to ask me what you need to ask to know more about me. My Mom here can fill in any details I don’t understand.”

A woman agent said, “You’re a boy? That is very hard to believe.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you for the complement. I started to play a girl in my Shakespeare class last year and, long story short, I crossed paths with Mr. Leitner here who is the best friend of my Dad. It brought me to his attention. To protect me from discovery, my Dad felt that I should be disguised and living as a girl constantly until I hit the point in puberty I can’t anymore or at the end of the time I promised the state is over. I really like what I am doing to help protect girls.”

“Hello Samantha, my name is Sue White. I am a special agent with the ATF. It is a pleasure to meet you Samantha. I hear that you have cracked open two cases for the state police resulting in considerable damage to a child porn ring.”

“Yes ma’am. I have been helpful according to what I have been told. I wish I had as much courage as they do. I don’t feel I have that much courage, but they tell me I do. They just tell me what to do and I do it. I don’t see anything special about that.”

“Have you seen any of the photos taken of the exploited children?” asked a man in a suit.

“No sir, they have been very careful not to show me what photos have been taken of children. I am glad of that. I am not interested in seeing them. I even hate the magazine my brother used to keep in his room. I was happy that he removed it when he went off to college. I know I am supposed to be curious, but after seeing how it hurt my friend Vicki, I don’t think I ever want to see one of those magazines again.”

“How do you feel about the scene you did with the state police?” asked another woman agent.

“It saddened me that someone would think that was a good thing to watch. But I understand that the people who do these things to little girls are sick in the head. For me, running around in swim trunks is nothing next to a pool. Being a boy, there is no feeling of real embarrassment when I play one of the scenes. I think that a good man is someone who would never do that to a girl. So, if anything, it makes me feel embarrassed to know a man would act like that toward a little girl. I don’t want to grow up to be that kind of man. Ever! I think that is one reason why my Dad asked that I disguise myself as a girl all the time while doing this. When I see how boys treat me and other girls at school, I have a greater appreciation for why I am doing this job. It makes me more sensitive to what is happening to girls if I live like one. If I were to be a boy when I am not doing these scenes, I might forget how important protecting girls are and think the scenes are normal. Also, I don’t think my Dad wanted me to be able to imitate that behavior or be tempted to act it out with another boy while I was helping stop this kind of behavior as a means of becoming their friend. And to be truthful, I am much better behaved as a girl than I would be as a boy. So, my Dad’s insight in asking to be a girl while do this was very well thought out by him.”

My mother perked up at my explanation of why Dad asked me to be a girl and was slightly nodding her head.

“Are you being paid by the state?” asked a male agent in casual clothes.

“No sir. I am strictly a volunteer. The only thing they have done for me is to provide my girl wardrobe. A very nice woman officer named Officer O’Brian helped me buy my clothes. I hear that she is coming over soon to help me buy more because my Mom here thinks I need a better selection for school that is more in keeping with what she sees at my school. Also, I started volunteering for this by helping a girl who had been exploited by one of my brother’s friends. When my brother brought it to the attention of Mr. Leitner, they used me to help her get her life back. It was my Dad’s idea that I could do more than just that one sting. My Dad is a very smart man as I have already mentioned.”

Bill spoke up, “Thank you Samantha for letting us get to know you. We are going to let you go to the kitchen and have something to eat while the agents, your police guardian, and your mom go over a schedule on how we can best use your talents. But, thank you. You did an excellent job.”

As I left, I could see all smiles on the agents. Apparently, they liked what they heard. Bill told me later that three of them were something called profilers. They were experts in understanding how bad people think. He said my answers put them all at ease because they were concerned I might think the scenes were normal. Mom said that she was impressed too and finally understood why Dad insisted I be a girl.

It was agreed that I would be a girl until the end of the following year at least. Per a suggestion from Doug, I would spend the end of that year as a six week exchange student in Canada so I could transition back into being a boy. I knew he was up to something. I was getting excited.

I would have two assignments a month with December off. One on a weekend and one during a weekday. There were optional days marked as alternative dates, but I was only to do scenes twice a month. Mom went over my school schedule and made sure that I was available and it wouldn’t conflict with school activities. So, for the next fourteen months, I was going to be a girl twenty-four seven and I was happy.

Mom brought me into the office of a psychiatrist after school the next day. “After the meeting, it was decided that you needed a professional counselor who would either say you were or were not fit to work the stings. That is her only concern. I have been told that what you say in there will never leave that office. This way, they can be sure you aren’t being damaged psychologically by the roles you will be asked to play. You will talk to her after each mission. I was ushered into Dr. Cramer’s office.

“Hello Samantha or do you want me to call you Sam? Please, call me Erin. I am here to give you guidance and support.”

“Samantha please. So, is it true what I heard that the only thing you are allowed to say to the agents is whether or not I am fit to do the work or not? And that we can talk about anything so long as I can keep my head straight about the work I am doing to catch the bad guys.”

“Yup. Most policeman get the same benefit these days as part of their contracts. This gives them an outlet to talk about their feelings. Your case is a little different. Normally, I will see a boy like you dressed as a girl who is actually a transgendered patient. Your police guardian felt you needed a professional who was used to seeing a boy in a dress and could help you with any distress you have playing a girl. I hope you understand that my job is to help you resolve your feelings about doing what you are doing.”

“So, for example, I could tell you that I was like one of your transgendered patients and as long as I am not being hurt by what I am doing to catch bad guys, it would stay in this room. And you would still certify me as fit.”

“Well, yes, if you want to put it that way. So, tell me how you feel about dressing as a girl when you are a boy?”

“I am transgendered and I am thrilled to be dressed as a girl.”

She thought I was teasing. “No really, Samantha, all teasing aside. I appreciate your sense of humor. But, tell me how you feel about wearing a dress. I mean you look lovely and it is clear that you are presenting as a girl very well. There must be some resentment.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out the old photo of me when I was two and handed it to her. “No, really. I feel great since I have realized I was a girl at the age of two.” I gave her some overview of what Doug did for me and how he was helping me cope. But I didn’t mention his medical intervention with drugs. She laughed when she found out it was my Mom and then my Dad who insisted I be a girl this year. “I just grabbed the chance to be a girl when it was offered. I was so very happy.”

“I bet! Oh my, then this being a girl isn’t hurting you at all. In fact, it is giving you a year that we would require anyway to find out if you really are transgender or not. You are so lucky! No, I won’t tell your parents. That will be for you to decide when it is time. Why ruin a good thing? And no, I won’t be telling anyone else. But, I would like to help you with your transgender issues, if you don’t mind. And yes, based on what I am hearing, I will certify you for service.”

“I think that would be wonderful Dr. Erin. I really appreciate this. It would be nice to talk to someone who deals with transgenderism too.” I was clearly giddy.

“I will set you up for a ninety-minute session once a month with a brief phone consultation after every mission. That way I can use your paid for time to counsel you on your ‘girl’ issues. But, from my perspective, you have been adjusting very well. I can see that Doug fully implemented ideas I would have talked to him about anyway. I am also really pleased that your friend Doug got your mind off of your problem and started you down the path of self-actualization. By focusing on others in your journey, you have found a positive outlet to express your inner girl. Whether doing babysitting, dancing, music, or any other endeavor, you have been growing and maturing as any other female would have been. That is one of the problems that can happen with a few transgender patients. Their dysphoria can become so acute that they forget they have to grow those parts of themselves that aren’t a part of being one sex or the other.”

“Thank you. It kind of explains why he smiled this morning when I said I was going to be seeing you. It was like he knew you.”

“Really? What is his full name?”

“Doug Ryland.”

“Is his mom is an endocrinologist and his dad is an oncologist?”

“Yes, those are his parents.”

“Well, then I have met him. I am friends with his mother. It explains some conversations I had with him over the years on the issues of transgenderism in a family dynamic. Hmmm. On a related tangent, it is just my guess, but I suspect that your parents are becoming used to you being a girl. I think at the end of the year of being a girl, they will embrace the real you. It may be the best approach not to tell them yet. In the meantime, I am giving you a recommendation to see an endocrinologist to block your male hormones and put you on female hormones if you wish. That is if you want. As a medical doctor, if I see signs of a female puberty, I can certify you still for your job. Just bring me a blood test and I will keep it quiet. That is the other advantage of coming to see me and having a guardian ad litem.” She winked at me. Then she wrote out a piece of paper and gave it to me. I put it in my purse.

“One last thing before we talk to your Mom. Can I have your permission to interview Doug about the first time he saw you as a girl.”

“Yes, by all means. I would love you to talk to Doug.”

Mary and Mom were chatting about clothes when I came out. “How did your short session go honey?”

“Nice. This was a great idea. I like being with someone whom I can talk to freely about all of this and who works with the police so she can tell if I am in need of help. That was a smart thing to do for me.”

Dr. Cramer called Mom in and we talked while Mary waited for us. “Mrs. Miller, I just want to assure you that in my professional opinion there is going to be no psychological harm in Samantha being a girl this year. Also, this is some info for getting various devices for Samantha. You don’t want her to be exposed when doing a twirl in a school dance. They use these in undercover operations where men dress like women so the sizes are adult. But the company does have smaller sizes too. Other than that, just let him enjoy the experience of being a girl. A little exploration at his age doesn’t hurt. If we detect any concern, we will stop it right away. I will see you next month Samantha. It was a real pleasure meeting you. And, I must say, as a girl, you are very pretty.”

I resisted the urge to curtsey and just said thank you.

Mom told Dad what she said. They both looked relieved. The next day, she called a company and had a couple of items shipped to us to insure I had them for the school dance.

Doug was thrilled with the doctor’s referral. He made arrangements to transfer my care from him to someone he trusted at the hospital. I would be getting a real doctor’s care at last. Although, Doug has been doing a great job. He had been taking blood on a regular basis. In fact, he said he may still do that since the doctor would only do it once a month.

The story line was that I would get tested on my hormone levels every month to make sure I wasn’t so far into puberty that they had to stop using me. The cops loved this. The medical intervention was under my guardian ad litem, so my parents didn’t even have to be informed about my medications. Doug loved that his plan was really working better than he had ever hoped.

The next few weekends were wonderful. I learned to dance the rumba and the waltz with Dean. We practiced at school. I was enjoying being in his arms. Ever the gentleman, he didn’t press his advantage. My Mom made it clear to him that I wasn’t allowed to date until I was in high school. Dances and school functions were okay. But if he wanted to date me, he had to wait until high school.

The big day was coming up for the dance. It was a Saturday dance and in a week. I begged my mother to help me get a new dress. Since my clothing was bought by the police, most of my outfits were either too wrong for school or just ordinary that I could wear to school. Nothing special. I wanted to look nice.

“C’mon Mom, please? I don’t want to go looking like a tramp. I know I am not supposed to want a new dress, but I want to fit in too. I really don’t have anything to wear. And we haven’t gone shopping for me for either boy or girl clothes in ages.”

That last comment made the most sense to her. “That’s right, we haven’t gone in ages.”

“So, what should a young lady wear to the dance?” I pouted.

Doug said, “How about a burlap sack.”

“Doug Ryland, you are … such a ….”

“Goof.” he interjected.

Mom laughed, “Okay, I will take you shopping. Anything to keep you two from fighting.”

“Dad’s given me money for the dance too. Can I come along? I need help looking good for Mary.” He was trying to sound like a giddy me but blew it. He blushed.

“Sure. We would love it.” Mom said as she went to get her purse.

I hugged Doug, “Thanks for convincing her.” He smiled.

We piled in the car and headed down to the mall. It was certainly different that just months earlier when I was in the dress shop hunting for a dress for the funeral. I didn’t even realize that I was in the junior section back then. This time we could talk. We weren’t as numb. The lady in the dress shop recognized us. I guess we were so depressed during our last visit that she couldn’t forget.

“Oh, how lovely to see you again. How can we help you today?” she quipped.

“I would like something for my school dance. I was thinking something simple with maybe a longer hem in the back and a shorter hem in the front.” I was thinking of a dress I saw in a Simplicity pattern.

Doug sat down and watched as my Mom and I pulled out several dresses. I had fun going in and trying them on. Mom seemed to have fun too. We finally settled on an orange dress with white dots. It was a simple dress with a belt at the midriff. And it made me feel so nice and pretty. I hugged Mom and thanked her.

“Can I get shoes to go with it too?” My eyes pleaded with my Mom. So, we got some nice tan heels that went very nicely with the dress at the shoe store.

“Earrings too Mom? Please?” I could see that I might have pushed it too far.

Doug laughed, “Mrs. Miller, you might as well give in. You are going to have to chaperone the dance and if your daughter doesn’t look nice for the dance, then she will get teased to death at school. Means more work for you if you don’t.”

Mom sighed. “Okay.” I winked at Doug. He saved the day again.

We went to the men’s section of Dillard’s and found Doug a nice suit. He had fun trying on stuff. My Mom and I enjoyed helping him find a nice navy blue suit. I would alter it for him later. I am so glad that Mrs. Duncan taught me how to alter men’s clothes too. Then we had lunch in the food court. It was a nice way to end the outing.

The day of the dance came. I was just finishing my makeup with Jane’s help and putting on some perfume. Dean rang the doorbell. Dad ushered him in since Mom was already at the school helping out. I came down the stairs appropriately minutes late. He stood up and handed me a red rose. I smelled it and drank in its fragrance. I savored the moment. “Y-you l-look lovely t-tonight, J-jackie.”

“Thank you, Dean. It is a lovely rose. And you look very handsome. I have the nicest looking boy taking me to the dance tonight.” He blushed. I felt pretty and loved. To Dad and Jane, it might have looked like an act, but it wasn’t to me. I hugged my Dad and handed him the rose asking him to put it in a vase for me. He said he would put it on my nightstand. I give Jane and hug and said thank you. “She whispered in my ear, “You just have a good time you pretty little heart breaker.”

Dean took my hand and we took the long walk down to the car where his mom was waiting to escort us to the dance. I enjoyed being led by him. He released my hand, opened the rear car door, and I sat down smoothing my dress as I went in and swung my legs together into the car seat gracefully. As I began to put on my seat belt, I smiled up at him saying thank you. He closed my door gently and came around to the other side. As he did, I said, “Thank you Mrs. Pilsner.”

“Your welcome. You look very nice tonight Jackie. I think Dean has the prettiest girl in the school with him tonight.” I blushed as he got in.

“I think I have the handsomest boy at the dance if you ask me Mrs. Pilsner.” He blushed and smiled at my complement.

With his stutter, his small actions took on a whole new meaning. We held hands until we got to the school.

I waited while he came around to escort me out of the car. I felt like I was stepping on to the red carpet. My outstretched arm taking his hand was all girl. It was then that it occurred to me that a similar scene was being played out by Doug elsewhere with Mary. We walked hand in hand to the gym. The theme of the dance was slow dancing. Only modern music which invited a slow dance was played. Nothing hard rock and roll.

My first school dance ever with a boy was to The Beatles ‘Michelle.’ We took our positions and Dean led me around the dance floor. I was in a dream. I felt I was on display for the whole world to see. I could see by the smile on Dean’s face that he was smitten with me. After a few more dances, we sat down to have some punch.

Doug and Mary came up. They were smiling.

“We saw you both on the dance floor. Very nice.” Doug said.

“You were dancing splendidly. You two should consider ballroom dancing. I saw a Japanese movie a couple of months back at the university called ‘Shall We Dance,’ and it looks like a lot of fun.” Mary said.

I put my hand on Dean’s knee and said, “Maybe when I am older, I would love to ballroom dance with you. I don’t have the time now, but I look forward to doing it with you.” He hung his head down.

“She is right Dean. Figure about her freshman year in high school when she can start dating you. That is just the rules of the house.” Doug came to my defense.

He looked up and smiled anyway though I could tell his heart was breaking. I took his arm and put my head on shoulder. “Until then, we can sing together, okay?”

“I-l l-like that id-dea! Y-you sing w-wonderfully J-jackie.”

“Oh, thank you Dean. But I prefer to hear you sing. You have a nice voice.”

The rest of the night, we waltzed, rumbaed, and did the cha cha cha. Finally, about 9:30, we came to the last dance. Mr. Thompson pulled a sly one. Suddenly, I heard from the speaker system the opening notes of a song he knows I adore. Doug looked like he had been warned. We started to dance the waltz step as I heard, “J’ai compris tout les mots.” We were dancing to Celine Dion singing one of my favorite songs, ‘Pour que tu m’aimes encore.’ We danced a waltz step and he could see the passion in my eyes and how much the song meant to me. He responded in kind. Moving to the music, I found myself twisting and turning in unison with this blond hunk in the making to the beat of the music. I felt my dress swaying with the rhythm of the music and my feet moving in response to his leading me. Our movements became bolder and soon he was swinging me under his arm and turning in a swirl of orange with large confident steps during the chorus. I let him dip me and bring me up and we continued with our immersion to the music and ended in a flourish and me twirling ending with our eyes locked on each other. I stood there staring at him with a broad smile. He was grinning too despite his braces. We collapsed into each other’s arms as the group of dancers surrounding us applauded our performance.

I wanted this again. I needed it now. I desired it more than life. I had to be all woman so I could take this further than this charade of my body would allow me. I would have to wait. I looked over at Doug. I didn’t know what he had in mind, but it couldn’t get here fast enough. My breathing was heavy and my heart was still beating fast from the dance. I didn’t know if it beat for Dean or the woman I was becoming or both. But I felt alive. I curtseyed to the fans, to the man who was my savior, and my new found ally in Mary.

I looked towards the chaperone’s table and my mother was also applauding our performance and beaming. I could see that for the moment, Samuel was a faint memory and she was seeing only Samantha, her daughter. Her very pretty and happy daughter.

I hugged and kissed Dean on the cheek as he let me out of the car. “Thank you for a wonderful evening Dean. You are a joy to dance with and I will forever remember my first dance as being one the best moments in my life. I wish it could be more than that, but I have to obey my parents. I cannot date until I am a Freshman in high school. I hope you understand.”

“W-will I-I be f-first on y-your list?”

I kissed him again on the cheek and whispered in his ear. “In a heartbeat! And you better be there waiting for me mister.”

He walked me up to door hand in hand. My Dad opened the door and looked at the two of us. “Miserable evening guys, huh?”

“Daddy!” I stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed. He thanked Dean for taking good care of me and being a gentleman.
“You may take my daughter to another dance son.” And then I put my arm around my Dad and we both said good bye to Dean. We watched as he walked back to his Mom’s car.

We both watched him get into their car and continued to wave as they drove off. I waited with my Dad until they turned off our street.

“I hope he finds a very nice girl when he grows up. He is such a considerate gentleman.” I said.

“He accepted that you couldn’t date until high school.”

“Yes Daddy, he did.” And it broke my heart to say that.

“I think it is for the best. He will forget you and find someone else. But at least you gave him the confidence that he was worth dating.”

I looked back at the empty street remembering that for a brief moment it had brought me a wisp of a dream and took it away back from me, “Yes, I hope I have. One of us should get something they want out of tonight.” I almost said why not both.

Mom came into my room on Monday after my morning warm ups and talked to me. “Sam, I talked to Mrs. Pilsner. I remembered what you said in the safe house and I think you should take ballroom dancing classes with Dean Pilsner.”

I nearly fainted when she said this. “Why Mom?”

“One of the agents casually said that if any bad guy was to do something they called social networking to find your true identity, it would be to look for a girl who has no boyfriend. And, I saw how much you enjoyed dancing with him. And, I think it will keep you out of trouble if you learn how a lady is treated right.”

“But, he is a boy and I will only be learning the girl’s part.” I wanted her to realize what she was asking me even if it was what I wanted.

“I know, but it is a win win. He needs to come out of his shell. And you need a shell to hide in. And the government is paying for the classes as part of your cover.”

“Okay Mom. I trust you.” I hugged her and got ready for school. I was going to learn to dance now.

At the end of 7th period I walked up to Dean, “My Mom has something special she wants to ask you.” I was smiling ear to ear.

He smiled and said, “W-what?”

“Follow me. Trust me.” I took his hand and led him to my Mom’s office. Mary followed. She was not going to miss this for the world. Dean looked worried and confused by this girl leading him down the school hallway.

I knocked on my mother’s door and squeezed his hand. “Good to see you Dean. Please, come in.”

“Dean, I have an important question to ask you. Now you know I won’t let you date Jackie yet, but I have talked to your mom and if you are agreeable, Jackie would like you to be her partner in some ballroom dancing classes she wants to take. Are you interested?”

Dean looked at me. He started to beam a smile that could light any dark room. “Y-yes M-mrs Miller, I w-would love t-to!”

“Okay, your mom will talk about it tonight with you when you get home. But, Jackie wanted to ask you first before we set up the times for your two to attend dance class.”

I led him out of my Mom’s office to send him home. I hugged him and said. “Thank you for saying yes. I enjoy dancing with you.” I stood on my toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. He and I blushed.

Mary said, “Now you two, not until high school. You know that.”

Dean just smiled at me and waved good bye. I blew him a kiss and waved good bye. Mary laughed. I turned to her and folded my arms as if I was put out with her. “You do know that we have arranged for you and Doug to take the classes with us young lady!”

“Oh, no, you didn’t! You little sneak. You are so going to pay!”

“Like hell I am, you know darn good and well you want to do this too. How could I let my best girlfriend miss out of all the fun!”

Mary hugged me, “So, I am your best girlfriend now am I?”

“Yeah. What was I thinking?” We hooked arms and laughed as we went back to wait for my mother. It was so nice to have a girl girlfriend again.

Mom and Mrs. Pilsner ushered the two of us into the dance studio. I could tell my Mom thought that ballroom dancing would be more like the lesson Mrs. Cox did when we prepped for the dance. I could tell because when we all sat down to watch other students there doing their dances, her jaw dropped. She hadn’t considered what she was getting us into. There was a couple of dancers around Doug’s age. He was in faux suit that was actually a kind of leotard for his shirt and his pants looked very stretchy too. She was in kind of a leotard with an open back and sequined with what looked like a limp grass skirt that gave the illusion of the leotard looking like a dress.

They began their dance. It appeared they were doing the Rumba. She gyrated and shook her body like she was enticing the male dancer with her sexy moves to come over and dance with her. The dance was very nice, but very adult. My mother seemed a little uncomfortable realizing that I may actually be asked to dance that way some day. I was amused that she was unaware of what I was starting with Dean. But she couldn’t back out of it now.

Mrs. Jordan came up to introduce herself. She is the ballroom dance instructor for the beginner’s class we would soon take. I held Dean’s hand and listened to her talk to Mrs. Jordan.

“I am surprised. I expected that ballroom wasn’t so, so sexy. I don’t know about my daughter learning to do that dance I just saw.”

“I understand Mrs. Miller. Those students are our advanced competition dancers. Your daughter may want to compete one day and do those dances. But, for beginners like her and Dean, the dances are more modest and the outfits a little plainer.” I could tell that she had this discussion before. She wasn’t phased in the least by mother’s concern about the dancing being too adult. Secretly I was delighted. I thought it looked fun. I loved the outfit and visualized myself dancing in it doing all those sexy moves. It sent shivers down my spine to think I could dance like that one day. And with Dean too!

Our class was pretty nice. Doug and Mary seemed like they were having a good time. I liked the simple way they taught. We all would imitate the teacher as she did the steps. Then she would pair us up and we would do the steps again. She taught how Dean to let me do a twirl as Dean released me at the end of a dance. My dress would twirl around and it felt wonderful. It was a short lesson this first day. Then, she sat down with us and explained what kind of shoes we needed, the clothes I should buy to look good on the dance floor. And some details about the panties too. She made it clear that I should buy off the shelf ballroom dresses with underpants or my mom would be going crazy. We spent some time in their shop and Mom bought me a couple of outfits with matching underpants.

The next weekend was an FBI sting. I was taken out of choir on Friday to the airport and Mom and I flew to Colorado where I was taken to a farm outside of Castle Rock. The set up was familiar. They decided to do what we had done back home to keep it simple. The goal was to do scene tomorrow or Sunday. We would stay in the house. I looked at the frig and the pots and pans with my Mom.

“We will do take out. Don’t worry.” Said one of the agents.

“No you won’t I said. You have a kitchen here and I want to cook the entire weekend.” I was very forceful.

I sat down with my mom and we wrote out a list of food to get for everyone. I checked the kitchen again to see if I missed something. It did have vanilla and cinnamon. We handed him the list.

“Is there a grocery store nearby?”

“Yes.” Agent Harvey said. “It is called King Sooper.” He went off to get everything on my list. I sat down and planned a menu for the next three days. I saw a couple of sour dough baguettes the agents had let get stale from a few days beforehand.

When the agent got back, I took the disposable aluminum pans he bought and began to put together various dishes. Mom and I enjoyed working together. I took the baguettes and made a ‘pain perdu’ casserole. Pain perdu is commonly known as French toast in English. We put together a chicken and rice casserole. And Then I prepared a pork tenderloin with my favorite brown sugar and Dijon glaze. I put it in the oven and then prepared a meatloaf for Sunday night in case we had to stay. Inside of two hours, we had all the food we would need for the weekend prepped and ready in the frig.

I carefully wrote out the instruction for each dish and taped it to each of the dishes. Then Mom and I settled into our room. She went to lie down and I went back down and finished making dinner. The agents had some Coors beer and were talking about having taken the tour of the plant the last time they were there when I came into the room. I was impressed that they stood for me.

“You don’t have to do this for us Samantha. We appreciate it, but you aren’t the help around here.” Said Agent Harvey.

“Thank you, but this is keeping my anxiety down. I find cooking relaxing and taking care of you guys is a good way for me to relax. Go back to your beers guys.”

There were four agents stationed with us for the duration. More would be there during the sting, but these agents were there to protect us. Agent Harvey was in his 40s. He was a tall and slender man with grey sideburns and dark brown hair. He was friendly. Next to him was Agent Debbie. She was in her late twenties. She was average height, in shape, and very professional. She wore a nice business pant suit. Her blond hair was long and pulled back into a tight pony tail. Then there was Agent Tony who was dressed like a farmer. He was the one who “worked” the farm at the moment. He was in his early thirties. He was from Kansas and had grown up on a farm. Helping him was Agent Betty who was playing his wife. She was dressed in overalls. The did all the outside work.

Clearly, none of them knew how to really cook though. Government training at its best. I had Agent Betty get my mom while I plated the tenderloin, asparagus, scalloped potatoes. I had apple pie for dessert. This was my comfort food.

“My gosh!” Agent Debbie was thrilled. “This is the best stake out food we have ever eaten.” My Mom looked proudly at me and beamed.

“Thank you, ma’am. I notice Agent Bill back home likes to talk to us during dinner. I am amused that he never comes after dinner and always seems to time his coming so we have to include him in our dinner.” I giggled.

“Well, the man is not an idiot. This is really good.” Agent Tony said. “I don’t know how you know how to cook this wonderful food.”

“My Mom went to culinary school before she decided to become a teacher. I learned from the best.” I leaned over and hugged my Mom.

“Wait until tomorrow morning.” Said my Mom. “You may never want her to leave. If you have never had pain perdu casserole, you have never lived. Pain perdu means lost bread in French. The French don’t even let stale bread go to waste in their kitchens. In English, we call it French toast.”

“Is that why she broke apart the stale loaves of bread for and put them in the refrigerator covered with some milky substance?”

“Yes.” My Mom said proudly.

After dinner, we cleaned up the dishes and headed to bed. We brushed our teeth. I put on my silk pajamas while she brushed hers and Mom put on hers while I brushed mine. She and I talked before going to sleep.

“How do you like being a girl, honey?”

“I like being a girl when I am with you. I like being a girl when I am with friends.”

“Do you miss being Sam?”

“Not really, Mom, because I am still Sam. Don’t let the clothes fool you. I am same person who did laundry with you, cleaned house with you, and cooked with you before this adventure began. If you look for Sam any other way, you will just get frustrated and sad when Sam is right in front of you.”

“Are you going to miss being Samantha when this is all over?”

“Yes. I going to miss how she is treated. She doesn’t get called names. She is admired. That will be the hard part to saying goodbye to her.” I teared up.

“Well, if you what you say about Sam is true, it will be true of Samantha too. I think that is what Dr. Cramer was saying to me is that we shouldn’t worry if you explore life as a girl. Because in finding out who Samantha is, you will be finding out who Sam is too.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thank you Mom.”

“I love you Samantha Jackie Miller.”

“I love you too Mommy. Sam says he loves you too.” I slept like a rock embracing who I was.

In the morning, I got up early. I set up the coffee pot to turn on in forty mins and preheated the oven. I put the pain perdu in the oven and set the table. I put out the maple syrup. At this altitude, the pain perdu would be ready in fifty minutes. I set the timer on the oven. The smell of coffee plus cinnamon and brown sugar would soon permeate the house. It was 6:30 and the sun would soon be coming up. I could see the sky changing and turning blue.

I walked to the window to look at the dawn and I saw that Agent Debbie was already up. I hesitated for a moment. I could see in the growing light that she had been crying. Something told me she needed a friend. I quietly opened the door to the porch. She was still lost in thought as I softly closed the door. She heard the click and startled. She started to wipe away her tears embarrassed to be found out by someone so young.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I saw you crying and thought you could use a little company. Is it okay if I join you?”

“I shouldn’t bother someone so young with my problems.”

I sat down on the bench next to her. I looked up at her eyes filled with tears and began to tear up myself.

“I watched my best friend die of cancer two months ago yesterday. She was six years old and seven days’ shy of seven. I held her hand when she died. Her birthday celebration was her funeral. I cut off half of my hair so she could have a wig. She was buried in it and the dress I made her to celebrate what little life she had left.” I began to sob. “And I miss her terribly.”

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. But this isn’t …”

“I’ve told you my sorrow. I think it isn’t good for you not to tell me yours. It doesn’t matter how old you are. What matters is that you have someone to share your pain with or else It will consume you. Please share yours with me.”

She just stared at me for a moment. “Are you sure?” she stammered.

“Yes. I have learned that girls share their feelings. That is what makes them better than boys. So, please share your feelings.”

She looked at me for a moment. “But you’re a boy.”

“I am a girl if you need to me to be, and it looks like you need me to be girl. So, please share with me your sorrow.”

She was stumped either by my logic or my converted by my sincerity, but she began to unfold the source of her pain.

“I got message last night to call home. My Dad is in the hospital. He had a heart attack. I guess they caught it in time and he should be get better. But, I have just been sitting here thinking of what to say to him when I call again. I haven’t spoken to him much lately. I have been too busy with this job. I’ve let it consume me. You are too young to know. I am too almost. But my Dad used to love this song when I was growing up called ‘Cat’s in the Cradle.’ It is about a boy who grows up to be like his father. The Dad was always too busy to be part of his son’s life. Well, the son grows up and finds himself to be too busy to be in his Dad’s life. I was crying because of how much I miss my Dad and don’t want to waste my time becoming the best field agent possible and forgetting to be a good daughter too. I remember that I was too busy with cheerleading even to let him take me to the father daughter dance. I exchanged fun with my friends for spending time with my Dad. That was wrong. I was crying because I don’t want to waste this second chance.”

“I wonder if my Dad ever went to a father daughter dance with my sister Jane?”

“Is she your only sister?”

“Yeah.”

“If she hasn’t, you ought to go with him for her sake.”

“Even if I am a boy?”

She winked at me, “But you make a wonderful girl. And maybe he needs a girl to help him forget his pain. Thanks for letting me talk to someone. You were right. It is nice to share feelings. I know what I need to say to him now thanks to you.”

We both sat there watching the sun get ready to rise. The dawn was giving way to broad daylight.

“What was your friend’s name?”

“Cybil.”

“That is a pretty name.”

“She was a pretty girl.”

“It is a pretty sunrise too.”

“Yes. Yes, it is. And I get a second chance with my Dad.”

“And I get a first chance.”

We sat there for a bit. She looked back at me and smiled.

I left her and went back inside to check on breakfast. I started cooking bacon and scrambled eggs.

The rest of the agents woke up and scurried to come down. Mom followed suit.

“I have died and gone to heaven. What is that magnificent smell?” said Agent Harvey.

The breakfast table was nothing but complements. “Thank you Samantha. I was getting tired of bear claws and donuts. And if I ever see another McDonald’s breakfast on a stake out, I may go postal. This was unbelievable. It is the kind of breakfast my Dad would love.” Agent Debbie was exuberant in her praise after coming in from the porch.

About ten, a boatload of agents showed up with a surprise guest. Robert, who was attending CSU, was among them. Mom had arranged for him to be there to see how I helping law enforcement. She didn’t want another incident like the one where he nearly outed me.

“Hi Mom!” They hugged. Robert turned to me and said, “Hey Sam. Thank you for helping Harry and Vicki.” This was a rare Robert apology. “I hear I am supposed to say Samantha now to protect your cover. Sorry.”

We embraced each other and went inside the house. Robert was doing well in his classes. He was looking forward to going out for football next year.

Lunch was just sandwiches brought in by the full contingent of agents. Agent Harvey commented that next time, I should make lunch too. We went through the routines I needed to do and rehearsed what was to be done.

About three, the sting went down. The scene played out just like it had back home. It was just a different barn this time. Mom, Robert, and I sat in a cubby hole while the agents did their work. Soon the all clear was sounded.

“Hey Samantha, that was pretty brave what you did out there. I am glad I came down. You are a brave little, ahem, sister. I love you.” Robert winked at me and then hugged me and Mom. We told him we loved him too. Then he left with an agent to take him back to his car and he headed back to Ft. Collins.

We prepared to leave ourselves.

“Agent Betty. There is a chicken casserole dish in the fridge with instructions. You enjoy yourselves. It was a pleasure working with you. And thank you for taking good care of my daughter and me.” Mom hugged her and they waved goodbye as we were taken to the airport at Colorado Springs to take our charter jet flight back home. At the airport, Agent Debbie said, “Samantha, you are a beautiful young lady and a gentleman. I don’t know which to call you, but I know that working with you has been a pleasure. And thank you for listening to my feelings.”

I hugged her and said, “Your welcome. I look forward to working with you again Agent Debbie. You were very kind to us. Oh, and, no, I don’t mind being called just a young lady.”

On the flight back to home, I interrogated my mother. “Did Dad ever do a father daughter dance with Jane?”

“I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

I told her about Agent Debbie. “She said that maybe I should go to one with him for Jane’s sake.”

Mom thought a moment and looked out the airplane window. “I wish I could do one with Sam.”

“Maybe you could do it with Doug as a stand in?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. You know Doug is family. I don’t think his mother has the time. That is why he spends so much time with us.”

Mom smiled. “Yes, I guess he is. Maybe I should ask him.”

Bill picked us up at the airport and got ready to drive us home. “You haven’t had dinner yet, have you? I made arrangements with Paul to meet us at a Bennigan’s at the mall. Is that okay?”

“I am famished. So, yes, Bill. That is awesome.” Mom said.

When we got there, there was my Dad, Jane, and Doug. Chris and his wife, Charlotte. In addition, there were Chris’ children, Sarah, aged six, and Teddy, aged nine.

“Jane, did you get a chance to do a father-daughter dance with Dad?”

“No, I don’t think I ever got a chance. I don’t remember there ever being a father-daughter dance.”

“Do you think I should?” I said.

Dad looked over at me a little puzzled. Mom nudged him. “Why not, Paul?”

He started to respond, “Because obviously ...”

Mom interrupted with, “You don’t get many second chances. And Samantha is learning to dance. And I think if you are going to set her up to be your daughter, you should at least take care of her as your daughter too.”

“But, Dear.” Dad was cornered.

“Don’t but dear me, you know I am right.” Mom went in for the kill.

Mom had spoken. Dad was overruled. Doug brought up that there was a December dance coming up for Father-Daughter and Mother-son Holliday dance on my school calendar. Mom asked him if he would stand in for Sam. “Yes, I would love to.” Doug beamed from ear to ear. Our dance cards were filled out.

I spent time playing dolls with Sarah. She and I really got along. “We need a babysitter on occasion. Would you be able to take care of our children so we can have a date night Samantha?” Charlotte asked.

“I would love to Mrs. Leitner. I am sure Mr. Leitner knows how to get in touch with me.”

Dad smiled and shrugged his shoulders looking at Chris for an answer. “Well, you know Paul, you know that I am supposed to know where she is at all times according to her guardian ad litem. We do need a babysitter. And Samantha is good. She is very good at what she does.”

“Yes, yes she is.” My Dad looked at me with such affection I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t know it then, but more and more of what Dr. Cramer said was coming to pass. My Dad saw me once again as Samantha. Sam was slowly becoming a faint memory. I went back to playing with Sarah. We changed her baby and pretended to put her to bed while we ate our dinner. “If you babysit me Samantha, will you show me how to do makeup?”

“Yes Sarah, I would love to. I’ve had some experience helping six-year-old girls with their makeup.” I winked at Sarah who smiled in response.

“Can we play dress up too?” She was so happy I said yes.

Jane spoke up first. “You bet. I found a box up in the attic with lots of my old clothes which I thought for sure had been given away years ago. I bet we could try on all sorts of clothes together. I would love to be able to do that with my sister too. It is something we never have done, have we Samantha?”

I looked at Jane. She was falling in love with Samantha too. “Sure Sis. I would love that too. Especially if I can try on some of your cool clothes too?”

Jane hugged me. “You betcha!”

The night ended and it was agreed that I would babysit Teddy and Sarah at our house. Sarah was looking forward to helping Jane and I with the triplets.

Our house was going to be alive with people. Doug and Mary. Jane and me. The triplets. The Leitner’s kids.

All because of my desire to take a journey to become what I was meant to be.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[Authors note: The concept of a guardian ad litem exists in the law. They are appointed represent a minor in certain cases where there is no adult that can represent them or en lieu of an adult who can. It has a broader usage here than a medical power of attorney. I have used the legal concept here as a literary device and a clever way to get around some interesting legal issues that come up at the end of the story. Of which, I will only say ... Mystère et boule de gomme – AuP]

Chapter 13 – Walls Coming Down

Dr. Cramer ushered me into her spacious office. She had a table as well as a couch. “Thank you kindly.” I was wrapped up in using the language of my new favorite television show, ‘Due South.’ I loved the Canadian politeness. And Paul Gross was anything but gross. I saw the fixings for making tea on the table and just went ahead and started making It for both of us. I put the cup of tea down in front of Erin and then placed mine at the table too. Dr. Cramer smiled at me as she and said thank you as I sat down for tea and my first monthly session with her. A little tea party between us girls.

“So, Doug tells me that you two talked at length about me.” I said nervously as I took a sip of my tea and put it back down.

“Yes, and I think we need to take the serious thing off the table first. I need to hear you say that you are contemplating what he said you were when you two first met. I heard from him that he just didn’t see you crossdressing in your room through his binoculars.”

I shifted uneasily in my chair shocked that he saw more than my just dressing in my sister’s clothes. In the back of my mind, I had always hoped he missed seeing everything I was doing when he moved in and didn’t see my inner turmoil too. “Umm, what else did he see through my window?”

“You doing something with a Ken doll.”

She had me. He did see it. She could tell by my reaction that I knew what exactly what she was talking about.

“Do you need me to tell you what he saw you doing?”

“No, I need to tell you. I need to tell someone.” I shifted back into my chair, crossed my legs, put my hands in my lap, and faced her because it was time to discuss this. “I didn’t know that he saw that I was hanging the ken doll with a string formed into a noose.” I hung my head in shame after saying it knowing I was found out.

She put her hand on my knee. “Samantha, do you feel the same way now?”

I looked back up at eyes that clearly cared for me. “Oh no, Doug has let me be me and taught me how to enjoy life. I would never think of doing that now. I was very depressed back then. I had lost my grandfather. I didn’t share my feelings because I was afraid of being punished for wanting to be a girl. I held on to every secret and felt so isolated that I was contemplating something stupid. These last few years, I have learned to reach out and trust in others who care for me. Doug made sure that I connected with my mother and my sister by making me do chores. I didn’t understand it at the time. I thought he was crazy. But I came to realize that I was bonding with my mother and sister. Since then, I have been able to go to them and talk about my problems. I even saw how much of a brat I was to my older sister and confessed that to her. I would take out my anger on her instead of talking to her. And I even spend time with my macho brother Robert now.”

“Thank you for being honest. I knew Doug was right. You have changed how you dealt with your problems in a healthy way. I just needed to hear you say that. Want to hear some good news about what you were doing with the Ken doll that might make you feel better?” She smiled at me.

“What? Is that even possible, Erin? I mean, I was thinking about doing something really stupid. I am not proud of that.”

“You were hanging Ken, not Barbie. You weren’t hanging your real self. Honestly, I don’t think you were that far gone yet. But, Doug stayed with you every day and decided to be your friend because he knew that you needed someone to talk to besides your wall. He told me that he sat there planning out the whole thing while you did your homework. He knew he needed to get you to reveal your true self in order for him to help you find your real self.” She shifted back in her seat and told me the rest of the story.

“Doug told me quite a bit more that you don’t know. I asked him why he didn’t get you professional help. It turns out he tried. He used his connections with his parent’s office to find out what your medical insurance covered. He found out that your mom’s policy had lapsed with her leaving teaching full time and that, under your dad’s policy, you would have seen a doctor that didn’t believe in Gender Dysphoria. I cannot professionally tell you why I agree with Doug, but he heard something about Dr. Holdrege that made him realize that you would be worse off if you were under his care than under Doug’s. Don’t quote me, but he may have been right. It turns out that is when he casually brought subjects up to me. Everyone knows Doug is going to be a doctor one day and he is known among his parent’s colleagues as someone who constantly is asking them questions on their toughest cases. One of the tough cases I handle happens to be transgender issues because it is so misunderstood. So I thought nothing of it when he started asking me questions about a hypothetical child a couple of years younger than him with older siblings. I can’t approve of what he did, but I can’t condemn it either. And he told me that if he found you straying from what was best for you, he would have gotten you in to me as soon as possible anyway. So, he wasn’t playing a game with your life.”

I sat there stunned. “You mean Doug had been seeking professional advice for me all this time?”

“Oh, yes, by proxy. He got advice from his mother, or his mother’s colleagues, and more. He is a very resourceful boy. I shouldn’t say boy. He is a young man now. Just a little taller than I am now. And, I don’t think you realize it, but Doug has held back on his schooling to stay with you. He should be a sophomore in college now instead of a senior in high school.”

“I love that boy! No, I love that young man!” I was awe struck by the finding out of what he really did for me all these years.

“There is one other thing that he brought up that we will go over in a future session. Your perceptions of size. Although not a big issue, Doug was sneaky there too. He got you to learn to cook. Now you associate food with service to others and not interpret it in terms of how you look which means you avoided anorexia. But, we don’t need to go into that now. Just something for you to think about. Now that we have cleared that off the table, tell me about your month. What about October has made you feel the best, the worst, anything you need answering? And what are you going to be for Halloween?”

“Well, as you know, the missions continue. Speaking of what you just said, I think they mostly want me for my cooking now. The agents know I love to cook. I am used in different ways too. That makes it more interesting. Sometimes I am just playing in a yard while they talk to pervert or they have me swimming in a pool. Things like that. They call me window dressing. They had a special agent come out to make a mold of my privates so they could make a special prosthetic for me. Agent Debbie played my mother or sister last week in a photo shoot for a future mission. And I found out she has been going on Daddy dates with her sick father. It makes me feel good to know I helped her by talking to her about her feelings.” I told Erin about what was said on the porch. Erin was impressed with my counselling skills.

“Well, boys can talk about their feelings too you know.” Erin commented, “But we girls do a much better job.” She winked at me and continued. “How about school?”

“Well, that couldn’t be better. We learned The Coventry Carol for choir some weeks ago. Grace and the small group agreed that it wasn’t the best piece for Grace. However, Elysa Palmerton does sing it very well. It requires a great deal of breathing control to sing it right as a solo and Grace isn’t in good enough shape. I was impressed that Grace even asked Mary if she thought it would be good for Elysa to do it and for Grace to find another piece. Everyone was happy. Working with Mary and Elysa at my home for practice, I found out she was a big fan of the show Due South on TV. So, she started coming over to practice and watch the video tapes I recorded of the show afterwards on cable. And, I am teaching Elysa how to cook while Doug spends more time with Mary. Elysa is a good student and we are bonding too.”

“Sounds like you are ready for a sleep over.”

“Oh, how did you know?”

“I was once a girl too. Don’t quote me on that.” We giggled.

“We are doing that too. This very weekend in fact. I have to do it with Jane and Mary present or my Mom won’t allow it.”

We talked some more. I mentioned that I might like to be Princess Leia for Halloween. I left the session and went home with Mom happy as could be. “Do you mind if I don’t help with dinner tonight. I would like to go talk with Doug.”

“Sure honey.”

I knocked on Doug’s door and he answered. I looked at him and started to say “I didn’t know you …”

Doug raised his hand and stopped me. I heard his mother stirring around their living room. One of the few times she is around these days. She had a cold it turned out. “Let’s go for a walk.” He said.

As we slowly walked down our street, Doug related the rest of the story, “Dr. Cramer was right to tell you what I said. I have been seeking professional help for you for years. I knew how deeply depressed you were when we first met. I worked out everything for you I could. Every contingency. Even your medications were planned. Some were placebos designed to make you forget your size issues. Most really stopped the boy hormones. And one really did retard your growth to keep you to average height. I gave you some female hormones designed to test your body’s reaction to them. And some allowed you to grow, albeit in a more feminine direction. All of them administered based on advice from professional doctors I knew thanks to my parents. In a strange sort of way, you already understand what I did. I did for you what you did for Cybil. And like you did with Cybil, I fell in love with my friend and would do anything for her.”

“But, I am confused. What do you get out of it? I got a chance to be myself for the whole world to see. I just learned I slowed down your schooling. I don’t want to ruin your life by your helping me.” He could hear the concern in my voice.

“You haven’t. Far from it. Look, I don’t need to rush through life to prove how smart I am. That is easy when you are a genius. The hard part is having a family. Haven’t you noticed that my parents are so wrapped up in their research they hardly are part of my life? I am expected to feed me, clothe me, and take care of me because I am a ‘genius.’ They rationalize that they don’t want to stifle me. I may be smart, but not that family smart. Thanks to you, I have a macho jock brother who values me, a beautiful sister who needs my help in school on occasion, and a younger sister who needs my care constantly. School couldn’t give me what I really wanted. Plus, I get a mom and a dad to boot. I don’t think you fully understand. You rescued me too. Thanks to you, I have something I desperately needed when I moved in across the street from you. I have family time. What school book could ever give me that? I even have a Dad I can go to for advice. And trust me, I need advice. I have a Mom who nags me too and looks after me.”

“And, if you say you now love me, do you need me to be your Mary too one day? Am I your Pygmalion?” I asked the question that I have been pondering since summer.

“No, but I do need you to be my sister. I am not interested in you romantically. But I do need and want your friendship. I want to be part of your life because without you I won’t ever have family if I don’t.”

We stopped. I put two and two together and the result was family. I took his lovely hand in both of mine and held it to my heart. “Then this is where you will always be Doug. And you will always be my brother. You have my eternal gratitude.” Tears filled our eyes and we hugged. “I love you brother! When we do our next family portrait, I want you to be in it.”

“I would love that Sis. And I love you too.” I smiled at being called Sis by him. From that day forward, Doug started calling me Sis.

We turned around and started walking back to my house. “Doug, did you accept that I was a girl at first?”

“Well, not exactly. I was confused when I saw you the first time. At first I thought you were just playing. Then I saw the Ken doll and I knew it was much more serious and I needed to find out more. I first talked to a Dr. Holdrege about it. I didn’t like his answers. He is the doctor you would have gone to if you had used your Dad’s policy. He called someone like you a transvestite who needed to be punished out of their behavior. Eventually, I talked to Dr. Cramer. After learning what Gender Dysphoria was in my research of psychiatry, Dr. Cramer gave me insight about who you really were and that it was real, not imaginary. From there, I just started to learn about it based on the latest medical research at University. By the time of your reveal, I was ready for what you had to say and to accept you as a girl.”

“What do you think causes it?”

“Well, there really aren’t any studies sadly. It is a rare condition that only shows up in a very small part of the population so it hardly gets the attention it needs. But, in 1995, a study finally showed that there is a physical indicator that supports being at risk of being transgendered.”

“What is it?”

“Hold your palms up Sis.” I put out my hands and he looked at my palms. “Here, look at your index finger on your right hand. It is longer than your ring finger.”

“I see that. I don’t get it. What does it mean?”

“It is a permanent record showing that you may have received more estrogen than testosterone in the womb. It is just an indicator and not definitive. Genetic variances play a factor too. There are men who have the same feature and it doesn’t affect them at all. What it means is that your brain may have remained feminine while your body developed as a boy in the womb. Technology is only recently allowing us to measure other things too in the brain. But, I have a personal suspicion too.”

“And what is that?”

“We have so inundated our food supply with various chemical additives that I believe that anyone of them could affect us too. For example, there is a study proposal I read about not too long ago that they were finding women who smoked menthol cigarettes during pregnancy might have children who are at higher risk of developing adult asthma. We are damaging our bodies everyday with toxins that didn’t exist two hundred years ago. We have yet to understand the eventual damage of our high tech science. For example, did you know that in the late 1800s that people were dying from arsenic infused wallpaper? Why, because they didn’t know better. I think that transsexuality may have a physical cause as well as a mental one that we just don’t understand yet. It could be as simple as a hormone booster or steroid that permeates the protection of the placenta. I just know you have a physical indicator. More indicators may show up in the future. There is every indication to me that adjusting environmental factures could reduce the occurrence of the condition. That is one of the reasons I will not only study medicine and get my doctor’s degree, but, I plan to study biochemistry too. Eventually, those two sciences have got to start working together to understand why your index finger isn’t the same as Robert’s index finger or your father’s.”

“What does Robert’s look like?”

“His is much shorter than his ring finger as is your father’s index finger. It really shows why he is first string and so aggressive. He is likely to have affairs if he gets married. And it shows that he is a fast runner.”

“And my Dad’s index finger, what does it show you?”

“His index finger isn’t as pronounced as your brother’s, but it is definitely male. He is less aggressive than your brother and I could have predicted that just from the lengths of their index fingers. And, your dad isn’t a skirt chaser.”

I took Doug’s hand and looked at it. “I see your index finger is shorter than your ring finger, but not by a huge margin. Which means you are more like my Dad. Sorry, our Dad. Wow, you are incredible for studying all this just for me. Thank you.”

“You are welcome. But, don’t assume I am right. The ’95 study isn’t the best. They have too small a sample if you ask me. But, there is some evidence there. So, don’t tell Dr. Cramer you have proof. She won’t use the study as proof.”

“Fair enough. Where do we go from here?”

“Next year, after your birthday, you will have a decision to make. Be a girl at eighteen, be a girl in eight weeks, or be a boy for the rest of your life. If you choose to be a boy, then stay home. If you choose to be a girl at eighteen, stay with your family in Massachusetts for one semester. If you choose to be a girl in eight weeks, choose Canada.”

“Those are unique options. But how can you get around the law? I have to wait until I am eighteen to become a girl surgically, right?”

“Trust me. Just trust me.” Doug smiled that smile that said he had it all worked out. Funny thing was, I believed him.

“One last thing before we go in. In September of next year, I will be going to Harvard Medical School. The last four months of your journey to your birthday, I won’t be there with you. But, if you choose to be a girl at eighteen or in eight weeks, I will be there for you whether you go to Canada or Massachusetts. And, I will be there to help integrate you into your family as a girl.”

“I don’t know if I can make it without you here, Doug.” I said sadly.

“Oh, you will be fine. You will have Mary and will have Dr. Cramer. You have come a long way. In fact, I could leave now and you would be fine. But, that means losing family time. And that is too valuable to me.”

“But you will be gone for four years at least, right?”

“Nah, I have a suspicion I will be coming home fairly soon after my sister comes back home to support her. But, if I don’t go in September, I can’t be there for you when you will need me the most, your coming out to your parents. There is an excellent college just up the road here where I can get a degree after I get back. And getting my medical degree will be a piece of cake.”

“Why give up Harvard though?”

“Because the Holy Bible says, ‘Greater love hath no man than he lay down his life for a friend.’ You are my friend Samantha and always will be. A Harvard degree is no replacement for a family. Speaking of which, what’s for dinner Sis?”

“Beef Wellington. Mom is trying a new recipe.”

“Sounds fantastic. Are you going to try it out on your next mission?”

“Maybe. Or tacos and enchiladas. I hear it is going to be in Arizona this next time. I have to wear this thing called a gaff that they have custom made for me. It has to be glued on. That way I can swim topless in a pool. Do you want to come along?”

“No, but I think you should let ‘Dad.’ I think it will help you get him ready for having a daughter for life and not a son. Trust me grasshopper, the way of the blade of grass is always up.”

“I am so not going to take Kung Fu for you, Doug Ryland!” I tickled Doug’s side.

“But how ever will you take this pebble from my hand?” Doug said in a faux Chinese dialect.

“Goof!” I side hugged Doug.

We went inside our home and closed the door.

Mary, Jane, Elysa, Grace, Sarah Leitner, and I sat in our living room playing with Alice, Ben, and Carol. Funny thing with us. Triplets made doing a sleep over fun. I don’t know why, but watching seven month old babies and talking really worked. We talking about everything it seemed like.

I had brought my keyboard down and we sang lullabies to the babies. They fell asleep and then we brought out a folding chair and put it in front of the mirror I did alterations with. Jane brought down her makeup and we tried out different looks and hair styles. We told Sarah that next time we would do dress up.

Jane started to teach us her way of doing makeup. “I want each of you to look in the mirror. Find your natural beauty first and work to enhance it and enjoy it. The problem we girls have is when we girls do makeup such that we wear the criticism of others instead of letting the makeup be our own best friend covering mistakes. The objective is for you to look natural and at the same time enhanced with strategic flaws either removed or made invisible.”

I learned about head bands and began to try them on. They taught me more about using accessories in my hair. Sarah even braided my hair. That was fun. My hair was growing longer and I was finishing up a growth spurt that I hadn’t realized Doug had let my body have at the start of summer. According to the doctor and what Doug was saying, it was exactly like the ones my mother and sister had. I would be skinny and tallish as I grew another inch or so. True to what I learned about my family, my boobs weren’t growing, but small amounts of curves were working their way around my body. And, I was growing some hair in my armpit and around my penis. But, no facial hair was forming. I had seen pictures of my mom and Jane. They were walking sticks until about twelve when they slowly filled out and started puberty in earnest at thirteen.

At the end of the next week, my Dad and I flew into an airport outside of Tubac, AZ. There is an old mission there and it is mostly an artist’s community south of Tucson, AZ. I never expected to see signs in the metric system here, but the Interstate was signed both in kilometers and miles. We pulled off before Nogales and headed into the hills along winding roads that led up to a nice home with a large swimming pool and a view of the city lights at night. Agent Debbie came out to greet me and my Dad who made the journey with me this time. She was pleased to meet my dad finally. November in Arizona was quite a bit warmer than back home where we dealing with the first frost warnings of the season. It was hot and dry. The high was 85 degrees. They said it would hit about 45 tonight. The sky was sunny and I heard the stars would be wonderful tonight.

I sat down with my Dad, the agents, and agents from the Border Patrol to discuss the mission at a rather large table. The décor was southwest. Large round beams in the ceiling with some kind of dark sticks on top of them. The table was dark wood and large. The chairs felt more like thrones than real chairs. I felt very small in them. The walls were what I was told was called adobe. Smooth and a manly pink. The floor was a rough shiny tile that looked hand made. It was uneven and hard to walk on with heels.

Agent Debbie spoke first. “Samantha, Agent Marcos and Juanita are with the Border Patrol. They have been tracking young girls being funneled through Nogales, Mexico, up near the border crossing on I-87 in New York going into Canada. In Montreal, they are being turned into sex slaves. This is where your talents come in Samantha. Your fluency in French can be used for the first time as well as your acting skills. There is somewhere in the border area a tunnel where the young girls are being brought into the United States. So profitable is this enterprise that they have dedicated the tunnel to girls only and no drugs. This means that we can’t even use our drug sniffing dogs to find the tunnel.”

“So, this won’t be a single performance? It will be a weekend of being in the company of human traffickers?” Dad asked. The worry in his voice was evident.

“Yes, except that it will be just an afternoon.” said Agent Debbie, “I am going to be Samantha’s sister. I am a hostess and she is my helpful sister. She and I are going to serve drinks and food at the poolside tomorrow. The story is that I am renting out my house to these people for a party and my sister is helping. Several of the Montreal gang are here. With it being outdoors, we can’t mike up a room and listen to them. As you pass around the tray Samantha, try to pick up anything you can about that they say in French.”

“Oui !”

“No, don’t let them know you speak French. One of our under cover guys a few weeks ago tried to find out how the border crossing in Canada was set up for this trafficking. He inadvertently said he would be glad to move his car when asked in French to move it and blew his cover that he didn’t speak French.”

“Sorry, I understand.”

“How will I know that my daughter will be safe?”

“Because on hill, our surveillance team will be in plain sight. See, they think they have one upped us and they like to rub our nose in it. They know we can’t eavesdrop on a pool party. Also, a few weeks ago, during our last mission, we took photos of Agent Debbie and Samantha. So, their photos were put in the house days ago when our undercover man turned them into servants for his boss. Needless to say, his boss is happy. But, very tight lipped about where the tunnel is. So, our agents will be watching across the way on another hill in plain view and they won’t do a thing. Plus, we have the place surrounded by agents in the ground who are camouflaged should they do anything. Samantha will be very safe. We can call it off if you want.”

Dad looked at me. “Dad, you know I love to listen to gossip. Between Jane, Grace, Mary, and Elysa, I know almost all the important bits of gossip at my school. Including that I have a tumor in my bladder and that is why I have to go to the office to pee.” He gave me a strange look. “Oh, it’s okay. They are taking bets as to how big it is. Mary is so going to clean up.” I sipped my Arizona Sun Tea and smiled at him rather coyly.

“Okay, just as long as she is safe. So, how do I get in on this tumor pool?” Dad stuck his tongue out at me and started to play footsy with me. We laughed.

Agent Juanita and I started to cook a nice meal for the gang. I finally found an agent who knew how to cook. Turns out that she did get government training in the Army. She wasn’t bad. She taught me how to make tacos, empanadas, enchiladas, and other traditional Mexican dishes. The agents were getting used to my cooking and I was thrilled. And heuvos rancheros for breakfast the next day.

The food for the poolside part was catered so Agent Debbie, aka my sister Belinda, and I, her sister Eleanor, worked the party. I would go into the kitchen and grab the platters and walk around offering the gentlemen at the party food. There were ten men and three women. And two of them of the men I could tell spoke French. While serving them, I overheard one of the men refer to the “sortie” next to the “lit cherries.” Both of them laughed. I offered them breaded shrimp and they took it.

During subsequent conversations of theirs, I heard them talking about a man named Douglas. And then, I heard something even more chilling. I heard them talking about “the little French paquette” which just arrived from south America.

Debbie and I sat down with everyone a little later. “Okay, tell us what you overheard?”

“The exit is near a police station I think. They talked about lit cherries which is an idiom in Quebec for the lights on top of a police car. They also talked about a man named Douglas. And I think they have a girl that just arrived here from South America who speaks French. They seemed to be concerned about her.”

Agent Marcos seemed very excited. “Douglas is a town along the border. They have put tunnels there before. But, next to the police station in Douglas is a Catholic School for girls. It is near where our dogs are, so if any drugs were to being used, they would sniff it out. They only need to transport a girl or two every few days to keep the supply up. It wouldn’t be noticed if it was so small a flow that no one saw it. We need to get an agent on it.” He made a phone call.

My Dad was impressed. “Well Samantha. Maybe you should consider a career in law enforcement.”

“I’ll think about it.” No, I lied. I still wanted to be a baby doctor.

“Mr. Miller, Samantha, we think you should stay for a bit. The girl they are talking about may still be here and is scared. If we are able to rescue her, we will need someone to translate and get along with her. Samantha here could break the ice with her. It is up to you Mr. Miller, but we would like her to stay.”

“Will she have to participate in any raid or dangerous activity?”

“No, but we know that it will be just an extra day. It will mean that she misses a day at school. We will make sure she gets a doctor’s note.”

We went back to the safe house and discussed how to spend the day. Dad had an idea. He had heard about a cold war museum that was up the highway from us. Agent Debbie sounded interested and we headed off to it. We soon were at the Titan Missile Museum and headed in to take a tour. Our guide told us about the facility and the cold war. Years ago, there was a missile positioned there whose sole purpose was to launch a tactical nuclear warhead at the Russians in response to their doing the same thing to us. It was called MAD, mutual assured destruction.

We stood in the room where the decision would be made to launch the missile and looked at each other. “What would you have done if the command came in Dad?”

“I don’t know. It was a choice that I would never want to make. There are choices you make in life that you can never walk away from. And this would be one of them. To turn that key in agreement with your fellow soldier knowing you would destroy millions of lives seems to be the worst thing I could imagine. How about you Debbie, do you think you could make that fatal call?”

“I wouldn’t want to make it. I thought about it when I became what I am. I knew I may have to use deadly force one day. That is just one person. In theory, I will. But do I want to do that, no.”

“Dad, so, it is important to know how the choices we make will hurt us and could harm others, right?”

“Yes. Making wise choices is a good thing. But it isn’t always easy. This museum is much more than a record of how foolish we could have been. It is a record of how sanity overcame stupidity.”

“Is that why you spent so much time on deciding if I should be Samantha or not when we started this?”

“Well, yes. I worked out what the paths for you were. I knew you needed to be safe and that you also needed to be happy. On balance, it was a good decision. The facts were clear. If anyone were to try and find you, they wouldn’t think to look for a little girl.”

Debbie chimed in. “I think you were right. Samantha’s work with us has been good for her. And what she is doing to make the lives of others better has made her a better citizen. And, I have to thank you. Because of her, I have been able to heal an old wound with my Dad. I don’t know what I would have done without your letting her be Samantha. So, in a way, your choice blessed me too.”

Dad looked perplexed. Agent Debbie went on to explain about what happened on the porch. “Oh, so that explains the Father-Daughter dance. You know, that is an experience I never had with Jane. I hadn’t realized I was missing something.”

Before we left, Agent Debbie visited the gift shop, and Dad and I talked alone.

“Samantha, I am proud of you. You are growing into a fine person. I am going to miss you when Samantha is gone and Sam returns.”

“I’ll be the same person, just different wrapping.” I said that to reassure him. I had no intention of changing the wrapping.

“Yeah, that is true.” He hugged me, but I could hear the sadness in his voice. There was a part of me that wanted to tell him who I really was. But I also knew Erin was right. Don’t tell my parents right away. Let them become used to me as Samantha.

“Daddy, I love you. Thank you for coming on this trip.” I hugged him back as hard as I could. I felt him melt in my arms. He kissed my head. When he took my hand to leave the building, I looked up and could see that he had been crying a few tears.

It was about one in the morning. Agent Marcos came and knocked on our door. My Dad got up and talked to him for a moment. He then came over and talked to me. I had awakened when the hallway light shined on my face. “Honey, they would like your help with a young girl they found. She is from French Guiana they think. Wake up and get dressed. Casual and girly would be best.”

The drive to Douglas took about an hour. The brought me into a holding area separate from the rest of the border facility. It was cold and sterile. White walls and dark greenish metal doors. There was a young girl little older than me sitting in a room with a table and chairs. She was already developing her breasts and her curves. There was a big mirror which I figured was one way. The lighting was bright with fluorescent fixtures. I went in and sat down next to her. She hadn’t bathed for days, I could tell. She was of mixed blood. I figured that one of her parents was white and the other maybe black or a native Indian. Either way, she was a beautiful girl. I spoke to her all in French which I could tell she liked. And, I could also see that she was intrigued that I was there and not an adult. But, here is what transpired in English.

“Hello, my name is Samantha, what is yours?” She looked at me for a moment and turned away.

“Please, I can help you. What is your name?” I implored.

“Yvonne. Yvonne de Champs.” Came a weak reply. She wasn’t completely trustful of me yet. However, my age was opening a door.

“I am pleased to meet you Yvonne de Champs. How old are you? I am eleven about to turn twelve.” I put out my hand to shake hers.

“You will be like me almost, I am thirteen.” She softened. “I have already done evil things and I must be punished. Is that why the men brought you here, to tell me the things that I must do because I did bad things. Are you going to hurt me too?” The fear in her voice was thick as her accent. But, she took my hand and briefly shook it.

“No, I want to help you. Have you seen the movie Les Visiteurs?” My question caught her off guard.

“Yes, I have. It was very funny. But I don’t understand why you ask?” her mood lightened up as she remembered the movie. It was a funny movie.

“Because, the hero did bad things in it, no? And he made it right in the end, no?” I wanted to connect to her and this was the only way I could think of connecting.

“No, I don’t think I can undo this bad thing with a magic potion?” She sounded weak and sad.

“What did you do?” I gently asked.

“I hurt somebody. I think I may have killed him. He was beating my mama and I used his pistol on him and ran away into the streets after I shot him.” Her eyes teared up and she looked like she wanted to cry.

“Was he your Papa?”

“No. My Papa left me when I was a little baby. He was my Mama’s boyfriend.”

I said in English, “Can someone bring me a guitar?”

Then I turned back to her and asked, “Do you know his name?”

“Pierre. I didn’t know his family name.”

A lady brought in a guitar and handed it to me with a pick. The guitar was out of tune, but I ignored it.

“I love this song, have you heard it before?” I began to play. “Qui a le droit …”

Yvonne began singing with me.

“You like that song also?” She said. “Are you French?” The French connection was made. We were talking at last.

“No, I am just an American girl. And, yes, I like that song very much. You and I are young. The choices we can make when we are young are limited. We have to obey adults. That is what the song is about. But it says that grownups can lie to us and hurt us. I think you need to tell the police the truth about what you did so your Mama doesn’t get in trouble.”

“But they will be after me. They would not hurt my mama. She didn’t do anything wrong. I had to run so that she didn’t have to tell them the bad thing I did and see me get punished.”

“No Yvonne, they probably think your mom did it and you need to tell them the truth. Maybe that is why fate brought you in here, so the truth could help your Mama.” On the table was a pad and paper. “Can you tell me your Mama’s name and where you live?” I wrote down the information as she told me. I held it up to the mirror. Yvonne began to cry. She said that she hadn’t thought her Mama would be in trouble for what she did.

Agent Debbie came into the room. I tried telling her what she had told me in French but she stopped me. She handed us both bottles of water. “We know, there is a translator on the other side. She was very impressed with your handling of Yvonne. Can you ask Yvonne if she would like some nice clothes and a shower? And is she hungry? We will contact the authorities in her hometown and get this straightened out. Good job.” Debbie leaned over and hugged me. Then she kissed me on both sides of my face. Clearly, the translator told her what to do. Yvonne smiled at seeing this display of affection.

“Are you hungry?”

“Oui!”

I continued and found out the size clothing she needed and what she wanted to eat. The translator must have heard and in no time, a croque monsieur showed up with a bowl of tomato soup plus some orange soda. But of course, my guess was that the translator knew how to cook a simple French version of a ham and cheese sandwich. It smelled wonderful. I wanted one too. I was looking forward to meeting her. Yvonne kept talking to me.

“Where do you go to school Samantha?” Yvonne was opening up more and more.

“I am not from here. I go to school in Tennessee. It is called the volunteer state. I volunteer to help girls in trouble get away from bad men. That is why I am here.” I smiled and patted her on the arm. She didn’t recoil at my touch either.

“I thank you. I was scared they would send in some big person who would punish me and beat me like the men who brought me here did.” Her voice sounded stronger than before.

“Can you tell me what they did to you?” I asked praying for a response.

“When I ran away, they found me on the streets and they said they could take me far away. And no one would know my name or what the bad thing I did was. I was happy to go with them. They gave me nice food and put me in a truck. It travelled for hours and then I was put in a boat to Mexico. When I got there, they put me in a plane and I was brought close to here. I stayed there for a week. That is when things changed. The men were mean to me. I was forced to clean for them. Then they made me take my clothes off and took pictures of me. I don’t speak Spanish, so I didn’t understand them. So they made it clear what I was to do with their hands.” She could tell I was uncomfortable and that I was tearing up.

“Have you had something like that happen to you too, Samantha, mon amie?” Calling me friend made her smile. She also could tell by my reaction to what she was saying that I was reliving something too.

“Yes, I have had bad men make me take my top off. But not all my clothes. I didn’t like it. I had lots of fear.” I hung my head a little. Although it was play acting, it still made me feel bad at times.

“I understand. Then they didn’t make you touch them and let them touch you?” She sounded frightened for me.

“Not yet. Did they do that to you?” I was frightened for her now.

“Yes. They made me touch myself and forced me to smile and laugh while I was doing it. Then I was shown pictures and they made me act like the girls in the photos. I was to do like them or they would hit me. I think I must deserve this because I did an evil thing. This is my punishment I think.”

“No. They need to be punished. The people here will help you punish them. What they did to you was wrong. They have helped me get the bad guys who tried to hurt me and put them away. They will help those who hurt you. That is why I am here. I asked if I could help them save other girls.”

The door opened and Agent Debbie came in with some Wal-Mart bags. “We have some clothes for Yvonne. We can help her get a shower and cleaned up.”

Debbie and I led Yvonne to a room with a shower. I explained how everything worked and where the towels were. I put out her clothes for her and we closed the door behind me. While we were waiting for her to get cleaned up, the translator came in. She was a woman in her fifties with grey hair. She smiled at me. “Salut, my name is Madame Du Bois. I teach French in the Phoenix unified school district. I will sometimes do translation work for the Border Patrol. They rarely need someone who speaks French, but when they do, they call on me. They flew me down from Sky Harbor. I have been watching you Samantha. You have been doing a fantastic job. And your Dad is thrilled with your work. So are the agents. You broke through what would have taken them hours or days to achieve. That is why we left you alone.”

“Did you cook that fantastic croque monsieur?”

“Yes, I figured you would know that. Do you think it helped?”

“Yes, as you could hear from her opening up. Familiar food can really help.”

“Well, I am going to disappear again. Yvonne has bonded to you. She needs a friend. Do you mind?”

“No, that is why I agreed to help the police. Have they told you about me yet?”

“You mean that you are not what you seem? Yes, I think it is brave what you are doing. I must say, if no one had told me, I would have said you were all girl. I can hear that she has finished her shower. I am going to leave and let you help her. A la prochaine fois.”

“A la prochaine fois aussi.” I appreciated her compliment on how I looked.

Agent Debbie and I chatted as she took her time. “Based on what you got her to say in the interrogation room, we have enough to go after the men at the pool party. We won’t right away. She seems to like you. Would you mind staying an extra day? Your Dad will be able to stay. He said he would make arrangements with his office back home to be here with you. I have never seen a man cry like he did as he heard what you got out of Yvonne. He was so proud of you.”

“Thank you Debbie. But, that poor girl. I didn’t understand what I was stopping until she started to tell me. Is that what I have been doing? Is that what they wanted to do to Vicki?”

“Yes.” Debbie looked sad. I wanted to cry. A few moments later, Yvonne opened the door. She looked much better. Her olive skin was pretty and her face charming. I think one parent was a native Indian. I could see why they wanted to destroy her innocence. She looked sweet. Debbie then explained what was going to happen next so I could explain it to Yvonne.

“You look beautiful Yvonne. That dress is pretty on you.”

“Thank you. What is going to happen to me now?”

“We are going to leave this place and you will be given special foster parents for the next week.” My Dad walked in at that point and put his hands on my shoulder. I put my right hand on his left hand. “This is my father Yvonne. His name is M. Paul Miller. He doesn’t speak French, but my friend Doug does. Doug is like my brother. You will be coming home with us. And, they are letting me stay home for a week to be with you until they can make arrangements for you to be taken home. They want to make sure your Mama isn’t in trouble and that you are safe too. How do you like that?”

“That pleases me very much! Merci a thousand times.” Yvonne hugged and kissed me a la mode Française.

Madame Du Bois came in, “Hello Yvonne, call me Mdm. Du Bois. I need to ask you some questions for the record. This is so the authorities will be happy. I just need to ask you if you are happy with going home with Samantha here and living with her for a week while we sort this all out for you?”

“Oui, Madame, does this mean I am not in trouble?”

“Yes, you are not in trouble.”

“And I am not an evil girl?”

“No you aren’t. And I will give Samantha the recipe for making a croque monsieur.”

“Oh, thank you. That made me feel so glad. I really enjoyed it. Merci a thousand times.”

“It was nothing. I was glad to do it for you. There will be a friend of mine to visit you in Samantha’s home who you will really like. She used to work on the Arianne rocket in your country. Her name is Giselle. She is very nice. D’accord.”

“Thank you. You have been so kind to me.”

“Come with me mon cher petit enfant. I will have a doctor and nurse look at you first. Then it is bon voyage with Samantha and her father.”

After the doctor and nurse checked her out, we said our good byes and went back to the safe house. They had a room for Yvonne, but she wanted to be in my room. So Dad moved into her room and she slept in my room. While she was getting ready for bed, Dad and I talked.

“I watched you talk to her from the other side of the mirror. I saw something I hadn’t seen since Cybil. You really liked her and let yourself go. It showed. As Madame Du Bois translated what was being said, I saw something else. You kept your poise under pressure.”

“I got it from you Dad. From Mom I get my compassion and empathy. Doug taught me that I get my strength and focus from you. So, that was Sam talking to her.”

“Well, thank you. I was hoping you got something from me. Because lately, all I have seen is what your Mom gives you.”

“In case you didn’t know, from you I get the ability to stand back and take a look at things without putting an emotional value on it. If I had to listen to her whole story, I would be too busy crying. From you I get the capacity to reflect on the facts and stand aloof enough to be helpful.”

“Thank you, son.”

I put my hands on my hips and said playfully. “Daddy!”

“Sorry, thank you, daughter.” Dad was laughing. I liked teasing him.

“That’s better. Night Daddy.” We hugged and went off to bed.

The next morning, we had bread, butter, jam, and yogurt for breakfast. Then we headed to the landing strip in Tubac where Agent Debbie was waiting. “Arrangements have been made, I will be staying at Doug’s and your Mom and Dad will trade off during the day so you always have a parent at home and police protection. Jane will see if she can do her school work at home too. It looks like you will have family around the whole time which means we don’t have to tell Yvonne you are a boy.”

“Thank you. Right now, I don’t think she could handle that information.”

“We will also have a French speaking officer arriving on Monday who will stay the week. She will be able to assist you with Yvonne. Because she is not in trouble with the law, she doesn’t need a lawyer or an officer. She does need protection though and the officer assigned to you and myself will provide that protection.”

“Agent Debbie, you are awesome!” I gave her a hug.

“As are you, young lady! There are seasoned agents who couldn’t have pulled off what you did last night so easily. You connected with her and it saved us days and days of work.” She winked at me with a big grin.

The flight home was bumpy. Turbulence from storms. Yvonne held onto my hand the whole way. She breathed a sigh of relief when we landed. I introduced her to my Mom, Jane, and then Doug. Bill and Chris were thrilled with the field report from Debbie. I could tell Yvonne was smitten with Doug. I quietly told her that he was already taken and that I was sad too. We giggled.

And of all people, Erin made a house call shortly after we arrived. Due to the special circumstances of the week, she was asked if she could help me help Yvonne.

“Yvonne, this is my doctor. She helps me cope and understand the things that the bad people have done to me so I can help girls like you. Do you mind if I tell her what you told me the other night?”

“Will she tell the police?”

“No, not unless you want her too. What she wants to do is make sure you are helped. She doesn’t speak French but knows a few words from her high school days.”

The doorbell rang and it was Mrs. Smith. “Excuse me for a moment, Yvonne.”

“Samantha, I heard you were going to be home this week with a French guest. Would you mind watching the triplets while I go to the grocery store.”

“No problem Mrs. Smith, I think my guest would love the chance to take care of the babies with me.”

She dropped off the babies. I introduced her to Yvonne. I told her that Erin was a family friend waiting for my mother to come home from school.

“Sorry for the interruption Yvonne.” I sat down and picked up Alice and cuddled with her. She fell asleep in my arms.

“No problem, I love babies too.” Yvonne began playing peek a boo with Ben.

Erin picked up and held Carol who slept in her arms too. “Can you translate for me please Samantha?”

“Yes Erin.” The doctor asked her first question.

I turned to Yvonne, “For me Yvonne, before I translate for the doctor, I don’t know the slang terms for the body in French, so keep it simple for me, okay? She is asking, ‘Yvonne, can you tell me if you were raped? Did they stick things in you?’” I translated.

I think it helped that she was playing with Ben. She gave him some plastic keys which he began to chew on as he crawled around and explored his little area. “Okay Samantha, I will keep it simple. Yes, in my bottom. The men had me bend over and put their boy parts in my bottom. They pointed to my female part and said in Spanish that I could understand that it was worth lots of dollars.” I translated back. Erin nodded her head.

“I will get you someone to talk to you before you leave. I want you to have a professional talk to you in your own language. I have a colleague who is going to fly down tomorrow from Montreal and talk to you. I work with her. Okay?” I translated back.

“Thank you Madame Le Docteur. I would like that very much.”

We put Alice and Carol in the portable crib we had and I escorted Erin out to her car. “The same doctor that is coming can help you too, Samantha. She is part of the crown’s investigation into sex slaves, so this is her job. Doug suggested at the end of the service you are doing, that you go to Canada for six weeks on a student exchange program to decompress. She can help you come out to your parents and be the second opinion you need. It would be handled by the guardian ad litem anyway, so you would be able to use her opinion to confirm a gender identity disorder diagnosis. So, this is quite a lucky break for you.”

“Thank you. That is good. But I wish it didn’t have to come at the cost of Yvonne being hurt. And thank you for coming here to see Yvonne too.” We hugged and she went back to her office.

“You are so lucky to take care of these precious babies.” Yvonne said when I came back into the house.

“Yes I am. They mean the world to me. I especially feel good that I am helping to keep the girls safe from harm.” I picked up Carol and began to play with her. Jane came in the door. “Good news Sis, they are going to let me do my classes this week at home. Bill called in a favor with the community college Dean. Bonjour Yvonne.”

The three of us had a blast taking care of the babies. Dad came in a little later and watched us. I kept noticing his smile as he watched each of us playing with the babies. Mom came in later and they sat there holding hands watching us and smiling. They would talk to each other in soft tones too. This was not lost on Yvonne.

“Your parents are very much in love and they are very much in love with you too.” She whispered to me.

“Yes they are.” I couldn’t help but whisper back with pride.

“I have only seen such love in the movies. I didn’t think it existed in real life. Do your parents argue?” Yvonne inquired.

“Yes, but they have an agreement. They don’t argue with loud voices. They talk things out. They have this system. If it is very important, they write down the reasons for and against something. Then they switch papers. Then they talk about the other persons concerns for and against doing something. Almost always, they come to the same conclusion. When they don’t, my Dad has the official final say. But, when he does that, he often goes with my Mom’s decision even if he thinks it is wrong or not the best choice. He calls it honoring his wife.”

“I am happy that he does not beat your Mom. That is the way my Mom’s boyfriend would win an argument. He would hit her. And then she would cry and say yes.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Can we sing after the babies get picked up, please? I noticed the guitar in your room.”

“But of course. We have to do some things first, but, yes, we will sing.” I said.

After Mrs. Smith left, we set up Yvonne in Robert’s room. I sat down with her and did some index cards. A picture was on one side and two phrases on the other side. I made sure that the picture conveyed the message she wanted. The first phrase was in French. The second was in English. So, for example, a picture of someone eating became “J’ai faim – I am hungry.” I did one that showed a scared girl. It said “J’ai peur – I am scared.” I thought of about twenty things Yvonne might want to say if I were asleep and Doug wasn’t around. I then sat down with my parents and Yvonne and went through the phrases explaining each of them to her and my parents. Then Doug brought over some video tapes of French movies.

I heard a knock on the door and my Mom answered it. In walked Mrs. Giselle Cox, who is Mr. Thompson’s sister of all people. We made our introductions. It turns out that Madame Du Bois knows Mrs. Cox and asked her if she would come over and help. She was surprised to find out it was me. She had heard in the gossip mill among the teachers that someone was attending the school was a police informant, but she didn’t know who it was. She told me that she would keep the secret and my secret from her brother too. With Doug there and Mrs. Cox, Yvonne was feeling more at home. After a bit, Mrs. Casselbaum dropped off Mary and Elysa. I was aware that Elysa was taking French so she was able to speak a little with Yvonne. Thankfully, she didn’t hear the conversation between me and Mrs. Cox. Yvonne was feeling special. I grabbed the guitar and we all started to sing in the round. Almost all Americans know Allouette and Frere Jacques. We had fun with these songs. More and more, I could see Yvonne smiling.

Mrs. Cox took the time to teach us “Sur le pont d’aviginon” with the English speakers singing the “On y danse” (own e dan sa). We were all laughing and singing. “Thank you Samantha. I haven’t laughed in weeks.” And then Yvonne broke down into tears. I went and held her. I told her in the idiom of French that everything would be okay. It translates into English as “Everything will arrange itself.”

“I hope so.” She said. “Because I am scared to go home.”

Mrs. Cox asked, “Why, my dear child?”

“Because my Daddy hates me and my Mama has to work hard for us to eat. At least with me gone, she doesn’t have to work as hard. I wish I could stay.” Doug translated this to my parents as they listened.

“Yvonne, would you like to be my sister if your mom can’t take you back?” I asked. Doug translated this to my parents. I looked at them. They smiled.

“Are you serious?” Yvonne looked me incredulously. “I am damaged goods. I am no good.”

“I am serious. And you aren’t damaged goods. If your Mama says she can’t afford you when you go back home, you can come here and stay with us.” Doug translated what I said to my parents. They came over to Yvonne, bent down and looked her in her tear filled eyes and together they said one word again and again. The only word they knew in French that covered this moment. “Oui, oui, oui, oui !”

Yvonne dried her tears. “You would do this for me, a stranger?”

“No, not for a stranger. For a sister, yes.” I hugged her and cried. “If you stay with your mother, you will be my friend forever. If you have to come here, you will be my sister. Would you like to be my sister?”

“Oui ! Bien sur!” (yes, of course). Doug translated it for everyone. Mrs. Cox couldn’t because she was bawling her eyes out. Soon everyone was having a good little cry. Even Doug and my Dad.

We put on “Le Chateau de ma Mere” which is wonderful film about turn of the century France in 1900. The father and the mother are very sweet. The movie always makes me cry. I have watched it many times over at Doug’s. The father is a gentle school teacher and the mom stays at home with the children. They had subtitles in bold yellow so everyone could watch. There is no sex in the film which is rare for a French film. But, the sweetness of the movie was a perfect way to celebrate. Unbeknownst to me, Dad went to a BBQ joint and brought in a huge amount of food. We gorged ourselves on BBQ Memphis style. Mrs. Cox, Yvonne, Jane, and I cried at the end of the movie when the narrator said what happened to everyone. But we talked about the ending where the protagonist destroys a bad memory for good so he can move on with his life.

“Maybe I need to destroy my bad memories too?” said Yvonne. I whispered into Mrs. Cox’s ear that Yvonne had been raped.

“Yes, there is a doctor coming tomorrow to help you do that. She can teach you how to destroy the bad memories.” I said.

I was startled and shocked when Mrs. Cox said, “I too have the same kind of memories like you Yvonne. It is why I learned French. I needed to go somewhere and get away from what happened to me. I overcame it Yvonne. You can too.” She hugged Yvonne. I saw them go off in a corner and talk. Yvonne and her held hands.

After everyone had gone home for the evening, I sat down with Yvonne and we had a cup of tea. “Samantha, thank you for becoming my friend and my sister. I never knew how important one was. I don’t think I could ever thank you enough.”

“I don’t want you to try. I just want you to be healed. Seeing you get better would be the best way to say thank you.”

Jane was watching us. After Yvonne went upstairs to bed, Jane came over to me. “Sometimes lately, I wish you had been born a girl for real.”

“I don’t know Sis. If I had, I would have never met all the people whose lives I have been a part of these last few years. Including Yvonne or Sally or Cybil.”

We just sat there for a few minutes saying nothing and clearly afraid to say what was really on our hearts. Jane wanted me to be a girl instead of a boy. And I didn’t want to tell her that I was already a girl and wanted to stay the way I am.

“I love you Jane.”

“I love you too Samantha.”

We hugged and headed off to bed.

The next day, I cooked a nice breakfast along with Mom for everyone including Yvonne. She was impressed that I knew how to cook.

“Bonjour Samantha. I slept like a bird. How did you sleep?”

“Yvonne. I sept well too. I have fun news. A nice lady is coming over today with a credit card. We all are going shopping. Clothes for you and I. The doctor from Montreal landed this morning in Nashville and is heading here I am told by my Mom. I think we are going to have a really nice day.”

Dr. Louise Lefevre appeared at our door after lunch. She was typically French. Dressed nicely. Hair perfect. Makeup perfect. The only dead giveaway that she was Canadian was a slight Quebecois accent she was developing. She told me that she was born in Tarbes, France, and moved to Canada about ten years ago after marrying a Canadian she met while volunteering for Medicine San Frontieres as a very young doctor. (Doctors without Borders). Yvonne was thrilled to meet her. I let the two of them have time together. I went next door and helped Mrs. Smith the triplets. She was loving that I had the week off from school. She began to inquire about Yvonne.

“I can’t tell you anything about her Mrs. Smith because of the special circumstances. My parents agreed to be her foster parents her in the states for the authorities. I can tell you that she isn’t in trouble with the law. In fact, she is a victim and they are trying to help her get help right now. So, I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Well, it is nice to spend time with you anyway. I must say, I have been enjoying the people you have in your life. Mary is a wonderful girl as is Elysa and Grace. You all sing so nicely too. And the babies love the attention from you all when I drop them off.”

“We enjoy it too. I love having you as a neighbor.”

After two hours of diaper changes, singing lullabies, and nice chit chat, Jane and Yvonne knocked on the door.

“Those cards you made Sis really were helpful. Yvonne knew to follow me.”

I could tell Yvonne had been crying but was much happier than before.

I cradled Carol in my arms. She was secretly my favorite. She loved to snuggle. Ben was boisterous and full of life. Alice was a little charmer and always was trying to chat with you these days. Jane went for Ben and I could tell that Yvonne was thrilled to be with Alice.

“Dr. Lefevre is a very nice doctor, Samantha. She made me feel a whole lot better. It was very nice for her to come down from Montreal, but I don’t understand why they are making such a fuss over me. I am just a poor girl.”

“Because you can tell them things about the bad guys who brought you here against your will so we can stop them. But, here in the United States, we help victims too. We don’t want to just stop the bad guys. We want to heal the victims too.”

We heard a knock on Mrs. Smith’s door. She answered it. It was officer O’Brien and a new lady. She was an agent with the Border Patrol from New Hampshire. Her name was Jeanette Du Pres.

“Well, young ladies, it seems that we have a credit card and a trip to the mall to buy clothes for two very nice young ladies. We have a mini-van, so we can all go have some fun.” Said Jeanette.

Agent Debbie came over and whispered in my ear. We want you to go home and put on your custom gaff first. We don’t want her finding out you are a boy in a dress room.” I went over and told Dad. Dad helped me. It was awkward for him to see me go from male to female. Even more awkward for him to help me glue on the appliance like he was taught for the Arizona mission. For the remainder of the day, I would technically be forced to sit and pee. Like I really cared. The gaff was custom made a few weeks back after a mold was taken to custom make this for me. It looked very real. Not that it mattered to me. But, for a brief time, I would look like a girl down there. They wanted nothing left to chance on future missions. And my poor Dad was having to deal with how I looked naked below the waste now. The boy was gone for the moment. And he helped erase him.

Dad tried his best to smile, but I could see his heart was breaking. His son was now a daughter. The impact was hard for him to accept.

“How you doing son?”

“Okay, I guess. I know that they need me to do this just in case. It is a good thing. As long as it looks like I have the right bits in my underwear, the better it will go for a mission. When I am doing the photo shoots I can’t wear it. When I am window dressing, they would like me to wear it just in case.”

After the glue dried, I put my panties back on and my skirt. “Dad, thank you.”

“For what?”

“Understanding. I know this isn’t easy on you. This isn’t the way you want to see your son, is it?”

“No, I really don’t like it.” He looked relieved that I understood his angst.

“Well, I can think of better things to do with you like cleaning stinky fish with you. Can we go fishing next weekend?” I thought that doing something between us would help him deal with what we had just done.

He looked at me. I could tell he loved the idea. “I would like that very much. Is there a way it can just be Sam fishing with me?” This was a curve. I decided that it was best to go along with him. He needed to adjust in his own way. And I needed to let him.

“Well, I think I can get some baggy girls pants today. I can do a ponytail in the back. So, yeah. I think Sam can go fishing with you.” I high fived him instead of hugging him. “As long as it is our little secret.” I winked at Dad and he laughed.

I headed down the stairs to join the girls. Dad shouted down at me, “Now please don’t break the government’s bank! Those are our tax dollars’ you are spending young lady!”

I looked back up at him and put my hands on my hips and in an exaggerated way said, “Well, a girl can dream can’t she?”

I left my Dad laughing and headed out with the group. My Mom, Jane, Yvonne, Officer O’Brien, and Jeanette piled into the Honda Odyssey van and we headed to the mall. Mrs. Smith waived good bye to us as we headed off to get some decent clothes for Yvonne and clothes for school for me.

Later that evening, we had steak on the grill and fries. My Dad did the cooking. I am getting spoiled with his taking care of dinner. It also meant that I could spend time with Yvonne going over all we had purchased. She had a modest, but nice wardrobe now. And I had sweaters and winter clothes which I desperately needed.

I sat and did homework at the table while Jeanette worked with Yvonne on her reports with Dr. Lefevre. She made a detailed report of what happened and Dr. Lefevre handed it to her to sign. Apparently, Dr. Lefevre was irritated to find out that there were border agents that had been paid off. An investigation into the corruption was not a nice report to come back with.

“I have to go back to Montreal, dear, but we can talk on the phone if you wish.” Dr. Lefevre reassured Yvonne.

“I understand. You have helped me so much already.” Yvonne was clearly happy to have gotten the whole truth out there.

“I have talked to the French consulate. They have talked to the gendarme in charge and your mother is now cleared of all charges. You can go back home now too. We need you for a few more days. If we decide to use you to prosecute the bad guys, we will bring your mother up and have you stay here for a while. Would you like that?” asked Jeanette.

“Where would I stay?” asked Yvonne.

“Nearby. We could let Samantha visit you so you won’t be so lonely.” Said Jeanette.

My ears perked up when I heard that, “I like that idea!”

“Get back to your school work!” Jeanette winked at me.

“See, you have friends here. So it won’t be so bad.”

After Jeanette and Dr. Lefevre said their goodbyes for the night, I sat down with Yvonne.

“Is there anything you would like to do special while you stay with us?”

“I have heard about Halloween in the states. I would like to go, what do they call it, ‘trick or treating.’”

“Okay, deal.”

The week flew by quickly and soon it was Friday, Halloween. There was no costume for Yvonne, so I gave her my Princess Leia costume. Jane saved the day for me. She went up into the attic and found an old ballerina outfit of hers. I put on a pair of pink stretch panties and a rolled on pink tights. And a pair of her old dance slippers. I then put on a pink leotard and a pink tutu. Jane pulled my hair back and put it in a bun and then flowers in my hair. Then she gave me a white faux fur coat to keep my warm. I looked awesome as a ballerina. Jane showed me how to do first position. Jane nicknamed me the accidental ballerina. I grabbed a basket from when my parent’s got married and headed out with Doug and Yvonne. At the first door, I was asked who I was. I realized that I hadn’t been seen in these parts for a while at school. And I couldn’t use my real name or my fake names. I would have to make one up. So, I just said that my name was Stacy. It was the first name that popped into my head. Yvonne was great as Princess Leia and learned how to say Trick or Treat. Doug was great as a London Bobby. So, out into the cold night of late October went a Bobby, a Stacy the ballerina, and a Princess Leia to haul in lots of candy.

Saturday, the next day, it came time for me to say goodbye to Yvonne. Her mother had been flown up from South America and the two reunited for the first time in months. There were tears of Joy. I could tell her mother was a beautiful woman at one time whose harsh life had made her age quickly. They would be staying in the area and I would still see Yvonne on a regular basis.

“Bonjour, Madame De Champs. We have enjoyed having Yvonne stay with us.”

“Oh Samantha, the authorities told me what you did for my little girl. I did not expect to find a little girl, but a big adult woman. Your kindness can never be repaid. Thank you.” We air kissed and hugged.

“It was the least of things. I was honored to help such a beautiful girl.”

“We will be seeing each other, no?”

“Yes, I will be available until they have finished their investigation on the people who harmed Yvonne. I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Until later.”

“Until later.”

The grand jury was empaneled for three months and the process would take a while to work through the system. I would be called to testify and was told that I would be appearing as a girl. Because of the procedure, my under cover disguise would be kept secret by the grand jury anyway. So, why bother to change. Yvonne and the agents working the case would give testimony too. It was clear that the whole procedure was being done carefully to make sure nobody walked away.

After they headed off, I turned to my Dad and asked if he would like to go fishing with Sam.

“No, I have had a chance to think about it. I want to go fishing with Samantha tomorrow. Let’s just go to the lake and sit in a row boat together for the afternoon. But right now, don’t you remember, you and Doug have a dance class this afternoon. Dean has been chomping at the bit to do more dancing with you since you had to take last weekend off and you haven’t been in school this week.”

I rushed up stairs and got dressed in my ballroom dance outfit. Dean was happy to see me and asked if the operation to remove my tumor went well? Darn rumor mills! The surgery I really wanted was more than a year away. I spent time looking at myself in the mirror the other day with the gaff. I couldn’t believe how different I looked. And how normal too. The real me was coming into focus at last. I just had to be patient. Since the other day, I began to learn to put it on myself. Now I didn’t need my Dad’s help. And, I would start wearing it to school just in case also.

After the busy week we just had, it was strange to be at the dinner table with just family again. We talked about Thanksgiving and my grandparents. They worked for the foreign service and were just about to retire. I hadn’t seen my Dad’s dad in ages. They wanted to come home in the spring and buy a home nearby us. I would have grandparents again. The topic came up about how to tell them about me. Dad said that he was going to ask Debbie if she wouldn’t mind having an FBI agent tell them before they arrived what was going on. He didn’t want to send an email or a letter just in case it go intercepted by someone. Best to be safe he thought. And we heard they might be here as soon as Thanksgiving on what Dad called ‘terminal leave.’

Doug came up to me and whispered in my ear later that night as he headed across the street for the night, “Greater love hath no man than he lay down his life for a friend.” He hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. For the first time I was starting to see things his way. “Here Samantha, this is a tough book to read. It doesn’t have a happy ending. But, I think it will explain things for you. I was reading it about the time I met you.” Doug handed me a paperback book. Hermann Hesse’s “Beneath the Wheel.”

“I will.” I read the book well into the night. It was a fast read for me. In it, the smartest boy in the village earns his way into the one of the top schools in Germany. But, he forgets how to live and enjoy life in balance with his burning desire to be the top of his class. Eventually, he hates school so much because of the moments it stole from him, he drops out and becomes a bit of a bum. They eventually find him dead, beneath a water wheel. The gist of the story is that by gaining fame as the student everyone pins their hopes on, he loses everything of value including his life because he doesn’t stop to enjoy life too. I could see why Doug wasn’t worried about school. He knew he needed something more than an A on a report card. He needed me just as I needed him.

I began to realize that becoming Samantha that I wanted to be wasn’t as important as being the Samantha I was to those who loved me. Doug was good at balancing life. And he was balancing mine too. That is when I realized his heart was a lot smarter than his head. And that was saying something given his prodigious IQ.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner (revised March 2017)

[Author’s note: My son’s obsession with the show ‘Border Patrol’ finally paid off! On the serious side. In the late-90s, there really was a scandal at the border Quebec border when it was found that Canadian agents were allowing girls to be brought in from south America that would be used as sex slaves. These women included many from South American were undocumented and lived in horrible conditions. So, there is a grain of truth in this story. There is no police station or Catholic school that close to the border. So, there are some deliberate fibs because I don’t want to give the bad guys any ideas. – AuP]

Chapter 14 – Due North

The click of my heels going down the corridor of the Federal building was at a nice rhythmic pace. But things were taking twists and turns as fast as my skirt was these days. My parents sat down with me in the office of the lead agent of the FBI. With him was the local postmaster and an agent from Canada.

My parents filled out the forms and handed the postmaster photos of me and a copy of my new special altered birth certificate. Well, a modified one that the state allowed for purposes of the upcoming investigations for the next year or more. They filled out more forms and took an oath on my behalf. My passport forms were complete. Almost complete actually. I was handed a new Social Security card, a Tennessee state ID card, and a copy of a Tennessee birth certificate. There was an additional form. A birth certificate I hadn’t seen before. It was made out in the name of Jackie Samantha Miller also. But, it was Canadian. It had my birthdate. It says I was born in Myers Bluff, Quebec. Along with it was a Canadian Passport. And, a Canadian health ID card. And, a Quebec ID card. It was handed to the lead agent of the FBI.

“Congratulations Samantha, you are a Canadian too. For the moment at least. We need you to be able to pass back and forth between our countries. A guardian ad litem has been appointed for you in Quebec. It is Dr. Lefevre whom you have already met. It seems we can’t take a photo of you as a boy anymore. So, you now have two passports with you as a girl on them. Hey, why not? And, legally, for the time being, when you are Jackie Samantha Miller, you are a girl. So, if you want, you can start using the bathrooms at school because a copy of your modified birth certificate has been provided to Danvers Middle School. Just be sure to wear your prosthetic device. We will send you a few more this week. This will solidify your cover.”

The FBI agent handed my Mom and Dad a Canadian Passport too. “The U.S. passport should be Fed-Exed to you in the next day or so at your office, Paul. Canada has agreed to let the De Champs eventually immigrate to Quebec. They will be living in St. Jean-sur-Richlieu, a small town south of Montreal. For the moment, they will be here giving testimony to the grand jury during their empaneled term, which ends in December, but we need Samantha here to go with Yvonne to Montreal to give their testimony to the Crown as they also are investigating their own border patrol. They don’t use the grand jury system in Canada anymore. So, because of that, we can’t have them interacting with their border patrol upon entry into Canada. So, both Yvonne and Samantha will be travelling as Canadian citizens with an FBI agent and a Mountie to talk directly with prosecutors.”

So, within days I was both Canadian and American. And legally a girl. But not legally a girl. Well, not yet anyway. Doug was laughing his fool head off when I told him. “Really Samantha, I didn’t plan this one. It is totally happening all by itself. It fits since Myers Bluff was were you had the option of going anyway. So go with it.” We kept swinging slowly on my porch swing. Mom and Dad came out to join us. We talked about other stuff. And then my parents brought up something dear to my heart these days.

“Doug, Samantha has been telling us that you consider us family. We have been seeing how little your parents interact with you for years. We’ve known why you come over here all the time. Pamela and I both agree, if you want to consider us surrogate parents and family, we would be proud to be your unofficial Mom and Dad. You don’t have to pretend anymore. We consider that you are family.” Mom leaned over and kissed him on the head and Dad patted him on the back. Doug squeaked out a “Thank you.” We all hugged.

“Thank you Sis.”

I hugged Doug. “Your welcome. Just doing my job.”

“Well, it has been a long day. Samantha and I failed to catch any fish. And Jane is out on a date. Again! We feel like going out to visit our favorite greasy burger. You want to come along son?”

“Dad, you know not to call me that!” I pretended that was meant for me and to be insulted.

“I wasn’t talking to you Samantha!” Dad winked and Doug blushed. I went upstairs and changed.

I put on a nice blue blouse and a nice cardigan sweater. Most of my sweaters now weren’t as girly as before. I liked pastels. But I liked some bold colors too. I put on a red sweater which matched my nails. I combed out my hair and put a red headband on, put on blue ear rings, and went for blue shoes too. I put on capris instead of a dress. I put on a nice necklace I talked Mom into getting. It was a silver heart. It was strange to not be in a dress, but Mom was right. I needed to wear pants more often to school and in general. The capris were black and hugged my legs nicely. And the prosthetic gave me a nice smooth look in them. We piled in the car and headed to Pete’s Burgers. The place used to be a gas station back in the day. The doors for the car bays now can be rolled up on nice days. We ordered a round a burgers and sat down.

I looked up and my heart skipped a beat. In walked Mr. and Mrs. Allen. And she clearly had a huge baby bump. I nudged my mother and pointed to them. Dad turned around and could see them and realized that a little explanation was in order before they saw us, or rather me. He stood up and walked over to them. He pointed to us and said something to Mrs. Allen who looked at me for a moment and said nothing. Mr. Allen was very happy, I could tell. While Mr. Allen was ordering for them both, she came over and sat next to me and Mom. “Well, Paul tells me that you will explain why Samantha is here.”

Mom said, “Samantha is undercover. She is helping the police using her talents. We can’t say more, but it means that she remains as you last saw her. We can’t say more.” Mrs. Allen nodded and looked very curious to know more but didn’t press the issue any further.

“How many weeks are you now, Cheryl?” Mom asked.

“Twenty-nine weeks. I am due the 21st of January now. But, they say they could revise that on my next visit.”

“Are you excited to be having a girl?” Mom asked.

“Yes. And Samantha, you know what makes it very special?”

“I don’t know Mrs. Allen. What?” I was perplexed.

“When I feel the baby move, I remember how Cybil reacted to Valerie’s baby moving. And then I don’t feel so sad. I have a memory of her enjoying a baby moving. We were afraid of losing the baby back then. That is why we didn’t share it with Cybil until a few days before she died. I wanted to thank you for what you and Mary did for us. We were sad to lose her. But you gave us so many good memories. How is Mary, do you know?”

“She is well. I go to school with Mary now and see her all the time. I will tell her. We are the best of friends. And, she is Doug’s girlfriend too.” I nudged him with my elbow and he blushed.

“Well, yeah, I wasn’t going to let someone that cute get away. I want to tell you Mrs. Allen how sad my Dad was with Cybil’s passing. He is really working hard with my Mom to improve the odds of beating cancer. I don’t plan to follow in his footsteps though, but I am on track to become a doctor. I want to be an OB/GYN so I can help deliver babies too.”

“That is nice. Do say hello to your Dad. His telling me about Samantha sold me on her. And she was the best medicine for her.” At that moment, Mr. Allen sat down.

“Hey Paul. So good to see you again. Sorry your Indians lost the World Series.”

“I am too. I was cheering for them all season long. However, I just can’t get around a team that is named Marlins actually beat them. I don’t want a team named after something I would love to go catch and hang on my wall, you know!”

“But man, what a great series. Seven games plus the seventh went down to extra innings. That, and the underdogs won too.”

“Gentlemen, there is much more to life than baseball or sports in general.” Mom said.

“And what would that be?” Dad asked.

“Shopping!” said Mrs. Allen.

“You and me both, honey.” Mom said with a big grin. We chatted for a while when I had a thought.

“Mrs. Allen, could you use help making a nursey for the new baby and maybe help some girls too?”

Mr. Allen and Mrs. Allen looked at each other, and then Mrs. Allen spoke. “No, we really weren’t planning to do anything special. We have just a simple room. We moved in October because we wanted a different home to raise our new child in. In fact, I suspect we don’t live far from you now. Sort of a clean start. We didn’t really plan to do anything special because after your first child, you realize the baby outgrows it all too fast anyway. Why, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, Mrs. Allen, I am helping a new friend from French Guiana who is here temporarily. She has been hurt by bad people. There is also friend of mine at school who also was hurt also, but not as badly. It occurs to me that my friends and I could make a nice room for your baby. That would give them a chance to make a healthy place for the most vulnerable and maybe help them to heal their wounds.”

“Well, I am open to the idea. We would have the right to approve of the design, right?”

“Yes. Of course, we could set up a design. Then the girls and I could make it happen.”

Derek turned to dad and said, “Well then, I could use your help Paul. You know, I have a wood shop in my garage now. I could use the girls too to help me build a custom crib. The could sign the work and then they would feel part of the room too. I can make the parts and you could help them sand the wood.”

Doug added, “I can also help. I have been wanting to learn how to stain and varnish furniture too. I read a book about a furniture maker a few months back and thought it sounded fun. We could have a little factory in your wood shop. And, I am certain that Mary would love to help too.”

After a bit, it was all arranged. Mom got their contact information and where they were living. But, now I had a problem. Balancing my social life. There is Yvonne, Mary, Elysa, Doug, Sarah, the Smiths, and now the Allens want me in their life too. My life has changed so much that I don’t even think about being a girl. I just am one. I think that is a good thing.

Doug and I rode with his Dad to the hospital. He and I left to go to the office building next door and meet with Dr. Rice. He is my new endocrinologist. Doug sat in the meeting with me because he knew Dr. Rice and, well, we fudged and said he was my brother. Dr. Rice knew better, but pretended I was telling the truth.

The guardian ad litem had signed off on Dr. Cramer’s recommendations. He wasn’t really understanding what he was seeing. He was just told that they were controlling my puberty for the next year so as to allow me to continue my volunteer work. This was a plus since it allowed me to side step my parents legally. Of course, there would come a day of having to face them. But, according to Doug, by that time, it would be well established who I was and they wouldn’t even care.

“Okay Samantha, the blood tests show that you don’t have any testosterone in your system and the female hormones are where they should be at this time. I think you can expect to see breasts forming by the end of next year. You say that you are developing pubic hair and hair in your armpits?”

“Yes doctor. Small amounts. The device I am wearing means that I wax down there too, so I know I am growing hair, just not how much.”

“Well, you can expect some changes down there too. Even though you are starting a female puberty, you could even expect some growth of your male parts too as we continue administering female hormones. But more than likely some shrinkage will happen. The body is a strange machine. It should come with a warning tattoo on it that says results may vary. I will print up the test results and send them over with you to Dr. Cramer. But, based on this profile, and your family history, you can expect to start budding sometime at the end of next year. I am going to keep you on the pills for estrogen and shots for blocking male hormones.”

After we were done, we walked over to Dr. Cramer’s for my November session. She wanted Doug to participate in this one. Erin ushered us both in. I handed her the print out from Dr. Rice. She looked it over and said it was good.

“I asked Doug to join us for no special reason. I just wanted us to get to know each other. I am going to do that with your parents too for the next session. We aren’t going to address any concerns here. That is my job. And I restrict doing that to our one on one sessions. This is for me to know more about whom Samantha is talking about. Doug, can you tell me how your ballroom dancing classes are going with Mary? Are you enjoying them?”

“Oh yes. I never expected that I would. I primarily joined so I could chaperone Samantha and Dean, but learning to dance with Mary is an unexpected pleasure.”

“What is your favorite dance?” She smiled at hearing about the budding romance.

“Well, everyone goes for the waltz. But, I like the foxtrot. It is a little slower and a nice way to dance with your partner. And, I can talk to Mary while we dance unlike the other dances.”

“What is your favorite dance Samantha?”

“Oh, definitely the Waltz. It is so grand and flowing. And Dean does a terrific job of leading me. I feel like I can fly.”

“Do you watch Doug and Mary dance?”

“When I get a chance, they really like each other. It comes through their dancing. If it weren’t for his stutter, Dean would be a charmer with his speech. But Doug is much more reserved than Dean. And I like watching him with Mary as they get to know each other through the dance.”

“Do you prefer be on display with Dean or would you prefer to be with a quieter partner like Doug? No wrong answer here, just curious.”

“I like Dean’s showmanship. I am an introvert like Doug and there is something nice about being part of Dean’s show. And, seeing how tough it is for him with his stutter, it is also nice to be part of something that lets him become who he really is. And, secretly, I enjoy being led by him. He’s cute too.”

“Kind of like helping Cybil or the police is helping you become the real you?”

“Yeah, I have thought of it that way at times. But yes, helping people is helping me be the real me.”

“See you in a bit Doug, I am going to send you out to the waiting room. But this has been an enlightening chat Doug. Thank you.” Doug went out to wait for me.

“I like Doug. He is a sweetheart.” Erin giggled.

“So do I. He was the best thing that could have happened to me.” I smiled thinking about all that he had done for me.

“How are you feeling?”

“Elated. Getting a passport with my girl names on it rather than my boy names was so nice. And, seeing a birth certificate with my sex being a girl was surreal. I know it is just temporary, but it fills me with hope.”

“Well, I don’t want to change the subject, but I read the transcript of your meeting with Yvonne and you said something that has me curious.”

“What is that?”

“You felt that bad men had taken off your top.”

“Yeah, I was thinking of Josh Travers and people like him when I said that. I find that when I act the roles, I pretend the nice cop I know is really Josh. I guess it is a way of dealing with what is really a violation of my space.”

“So, are you having problems with the role then?” she asked gently.

“Only that it hurts to know that one day, when I am complete, a man might think that is an acceptable way to treat me.”

“Let’s explore those feelings. Because the roles you play do raise questions for someone just starting to realize that sex exists and they are developing sexually. Do you think girls like to be treated like objects?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Really? So, why do you think girls wear makeup and nice clothes then?”

“To feel pretty, I suppose. I like the way I feel in a dress and how people look at me as a girl. As a boy, I was invisible.”

“So, when wearing a dress, you feel feminine and the power of being a girl. Not only that, but with that power, you are finding you can attract a boy’s or a dad’s attention. To be truthful, as girls grow older, they do do it also to become an object of desire to men. Do you see that now?”

“Yes. I hadn’t looked at it that way before.”

“So, since girls do like being treated like objects to some extent, it is important to know how to use this feminine tool properly as a girl. Look at it this way, if in a close intimate relationship, you might have with a man one day when you grow up, you might let him take off your top because it pleases him. You might want to let him because he cares about you and you want to explore each other’s body because you want to give each other pleasure. How would you feel if a boy treated you that way?”

“Like I was valued. Like I was using my body to make him happy and me happy. And probably very embarrassed because I am at heart very shy.”

“There is the beginning of sexual understanding of what is called the war between the sexes. Kind of like your dancing with Dean, don’t you think? I remember talking to your Mom and encouraging her when she asked me if it was a good idea to let you take ballroom dancing. Here is what I couldn’t say to her that she might say to you if she knew you were really a girl. Protecting yourself from that impulse to show yourself off is soon going to be a problem for you as your brain rewires to being a mature female. Hormones do that. It is good to put boundaries on yourself as an object. Healthy in fact. But some women like the power it gives them over men too much. They use it to hurt men. Some men, like Josh, feel they need to control women to get what they want because they don’t respect the power a woman has. A lot of the bad men you have run into resent the power of women and like to destroy it. I heard someone say something years ago that I agree with. There are only four words we need concern ourselves with. People, things, use, and love. How we arrange those four words defines who we are.”

“How do you mean?”

Erin took four index cards and wrote out the words. She arranged them on the table.

“What does this say, Samantha?”

“Use People Love Things.”

“Would you like someone who thought that way?”

“No!” She rearranged the cards on the table.

“Now what does it say?”

“Love People Use Things.”

“Would you like someone who thought that way?”

“Oh yes, I most certainly would!”

“It is just another way at looking at how you behave. An object is a thing. The bad guys use a girl because they love using their thing or her thing too much. When proper boundaries are in place, Dean doesn’t use you, he ‘loves’ you and uses the female object he holds in his hands as something he can use to declare that love of you. Dance then becomes a thing that he uses to express love of a person.”

“Sounds like the Shakespeare play I did in summer school. I played Beatrice in a scene from Much Ado About Nothing. She turns around when she sees that Benedict loves her and starts to use her harsh words differently. A proper boundary means I understand why I would feel violated and that I know the proper use of my power as a girl is to attract someone who loves me and won’t violate me by using the me only as an object without loving the person inside.”

“Precisely! In the future, when you feel troubled by your work for the police, use the ballroom dancing or choir or whatever you as a tool to replace that bad feeling or experience by loving what it is you are protecting, a human being. Even babysitting. Look at those times as a chance to enjoy being a girl as a reward of what you do for the betterment of girlkind. But, also use the culture to protect you too. Asking for respect isn’t a bad thing. It makes you more desirable. The power of your ‘no’ is something worth exploring too. We will discuss that in another session. We won’t have a December session, but we will have two January sessions.”

“Thank you, Erin. Merry Christmas.”

Mom picked me and Doug up from the doctor’s office.

“Mom, when you met Dad in college, how many boyfriends had you had before you married him in college?”

“Oh, about five I guess. The first was Tommy Hughes in sixth grade. I dated James Collins in high school. Your dad and I married as freshmen in college. It was tough getting our degrees with two kids, but it was worth it.”

“So, do you think I am hurting Dean?”

“Not now nor in the long run. As long as you can keep the proper relationship between you and Dean, you will be giving him the chance to grow and learn how to treat a girl right. He will find someone that much faster after you become Sam again. Right now, your relationship is mutually beneficial.”

“How are we going to explain my departure?”

“I told ‘Mom’ that you need to go on a student exchange program. Then, you will disappear. When you return at some point, Dean will have moved on.” Doug said. He also winked at me letting me know that the outcome could be different.

I picked up on the non-verbal communication. “Good, because I don’t want to hurt him. He really is a nice boy. And, as a girl, he treats me nicely and kindly. I don’t have any desire to be cruel to him.”

Mom said, “I am glad you asked. In the long run, you really aren’t hurting Dean at all. He is getting to learn how to get around his stutter. Believe you me, the girls at school are noticing him even right now. When you disappear, he will be gobbled up in no time at all. You could even lose him now.”

The thought that I could lose him now sent chills down my spine. I didn’t think about that before. It never occurred to me that I could lose him now and I found I had trouble dealing with that fact.

At lunch during school, I stopped and talked to Vicki. “Hey there, how is going?”

“Been busy. The school year is going by fast. I haven’t had a chance to stop and talk to you.”

“Would you be interested in helping a girl who was harmed by bad guys much worse than we were?”

“How can I help?”

“We are going to do a baby nursery for the family that lost their daughter to cancer this last summer. I was wondering if you would like to help?”

“I may. But how can I help this poor girl? It sounds like very little was done to me or you in comparison.”

“I know. But, the more she can find others who understand her, the better the outcome for her. She is isolated because of language and culture.”

“Does she speak English?”

“No, she speaks French. And it will be months before she can be in a French speaking area again. I am thinking this will be a chance for her to be around other girls who were harmed. And if they are reaching out to her, she will feel less lonely.”

“Would it be okay to bring along a couple of the other girls Josh hurt too. We formed a kind of small group to talk about it. I have been meaning to invite you, but it is other sixth graders at this point, and I didn’t know if you would be interested.”

“I might like to join your group. Although, I have been seeing a counselor. I have been busy too with learning to dance with Dean and my helping girls like Yvonne out that I haven’t had a chance to talk to you. I am sorry that I didn’t talk to you earlier.”

“No problem, I will get us together at lunch tomorrow and we can discuss what you need to do.”

I went over afterward and told Dean that we had to talk to my mother about something important. After lunch, Dean and I stopped off at the office. My Mom needed to talk to him briefly.

“Dean, the school district won’t let Jackie take ballroom dancing for P.E. credit. We really tried. But they will allow ice dancing. So, in January, we have to make a change for Jackie’s schooling because of bureaucracy. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind switching to ice dancing for next semester and then going back to ballroom? I have talked to your Mom and she will leave the decision to you. The good news is that many of the outfits you already bought will work for ice dancing. The only real expense is going to be ice skates. So, you can do ballroom every other week with Jackie on a reduced schedule or ice dancing twice a week with Jackie. Which would you prefer?”

Dean beamed. The prospect of spending more time with me was thrilling to both of us. I held his hand and looked up at him hoping for this reaction. “O-of c-course, ice d-dancing.” It was obvious that he cared more about spending time with me that ballroom dancing.

“Now, you will need to learn to skate and it just so happens that Jackie knows how to ice skate already. So, I have talked to the ballroom teacher and they are going to let us take a hiatus until the end of May. You can start meeting with Jackie at the rink and learn to skate until the start of January. Then, you both can do ice dancing. And here is the other cool thing. You can use it for your P. E. credit too if you would like.”

“I-I would like t-that!” Dean was clearly happy to find out that he would get out of P. E. in the bargain.

What my Mom didn’t want to say to Dean was that we were progressing at such a rate with our classes that the rumba and the tango were likely to become a sexy issue soon. Which is why she let a bureaucrat make the decision for us. I was a bit disappointed. I had already scoped out places to buy red roses for doing the tango. On the other hand, spending more time with Dean was a plus.

At lunch the next day, I was surprised by the quantity of girls at the table. There were four girls in addition to Vicki. I hadn’t realized how many Josh had harmed. It made me wonder how many he had really harmed. I would need to ask Bill later. Vicki introduced me to the girls. There was Candace, Tiffany, Deborah, Connie, and Susan.

“Ladies, this last summer I befriended a nice young girl who passed away. She meant the world to me. Anyway, her parents are having another girl. And, I would like to do something special for them by helping them make a nice nursery for their new baby. My counselor helping me get over being violated by, well, you know the story, tells me that doing something like setting up a baby room can help heal us. It gives us a good memory to wipe out the bad memory. And, there is a friend of mine who only speaks French who could use that time with us to help her too.”

“I already talked to them Jackie. We would love to help. When would we be doing this?” Vicki said.

“This weekend, I hope. Sunday afternoon would be nice. It is a holiday weekend for us. Monday is Veteran’s day. I figure about four hours.”

A vote was taken and Sunday was the best choice. Everyone arrived around noontime at the Allens. They were thrilled. A group of girls went with Doug and my Dad to the garage to work on the crib. He gave Mr. Allen two emergency birth kits to keep in the house and the car just in case. The rest of us went to the nursery and began to paint. Because they knew it was a girl, they decided on pink. We laid down a drop cloth and carefully painted the room. With four of us, the room was done in no time. Mr. Allen ordered pizza and we assembled in the kitchen to relax and talk. I played translator for most of the time.

“Yvonne, how do you like living in the United States?” Tiffany asked and I translated.

“I love it. But it is lonely right now. I can’t wait to move to Canada and make friends.”

“Can we help you learn English?”

“Yes. I would like that. I am learning now with Jackie. She has taught me, ‘Hello, how are you?’”

“Did you know that all of us have had bad people use us? We want to know you are welcome to talk to us anytime.”

“Thank you. I am on the phone with a counselor in Canada. But, it would be nice to have girlfriends again.”

They began to set up her being able to visit one of us a day and practice her English lessons. We all hugged and I could tell that Yvonne felt welcome. In the afternoon, we switched. The girls went into the nursery to paint designs on the walls from stencil. Butterflies, Bird, and trees. Yvonne and I went out to the garage and started helping with the crib. The girls had sanded the parts in the morning. During lunch, Mr. Allen started assembling the crib. And we began to stain the wood. It was rewarding. At the end, we signed a side with our names. Then Mr. Allen took a soldering iron and etched all the signatures into the wood. After he was done, it was stained. Doug a I would come back a week later to varnish the crib.

We assembled in the living room when the doorbell rang. A group of women and our mothers showed up. They gave the Allens a surprise baby shower.

Mom came in with the outfits I had made over the last few weeks for them. She also brought in the curtains I made for them. I took them into the nursery and put them up. Mr. Allen poked his head into the room.

“Thank you Samantha.”

“You’re welcome Mr. Allen. I really appreciate you letting us do this for you.” I finished putting up the curtains and started to test them.

“I never got a chance to tell you something.” He said.

“What?”

“You gave me a reason to sleep at night. When I was on that oil rig, I was worried. And then I heard that someone was volunteering her time to spend with my little girl. You let me sleep in the hospital too when I needed to rest up for her too.”

“That’s nice to hear. I am glad I was there. How are you sleeping now? It has only been months since she left us.”

“I’ll be frank, it was hard on Cheryl and myself. But, we believe that the peace you brought us meant that she didn’t miscarry.”

We began to walk back to the living room. “Well, I promised I would take care of you two for my best friend. As long as you need me, I will love to babysit so you two have time together. And, if you haven’t heard, you can drop her off at my place and I will take care of her too. That way you two can have some alone time too. I know my folks really enjoy that time together too.”

“Samantha, I don’t know who is the lucky guy who will be your husband, but if he ever hurts you, you have another man in your life who will let him have it.”

“Thank you, sir. Between my Dad, Doug, Robert, and now you, I feel like a very special girl.”

“You are Samantha. Trust me, you are.”

Agent Harvey drove Mom and I along a dirt road leading down into a cabin that sat along a roaring creek that was fed by run off from the Smoky Mountain National Park. It was near Davenport Gap where I-40 crosses from Tennessee into North Carolina. The fall leaves had long since left the trees and the fiery blush of fall had been replaced by the cold reality of winter coming on. I was window dressing. No top being pulled off. The goal was simple and straight forward. There was a child porn ring being run out of Charlestown, NC, that used the hills to ply their trade in her secret hollers. They had to identify the men involved. The cabin was part of a string of cabins that were rented during the weekend often by fishermen who wanted to fish the streams nearby. Intel had come in that one of the guests that weekend in the cabins was one of the runners for the child porn ring. The guest list for the cabins were filled with too many from Charlestown to figure out who the bad guys were in fact. And researching it could alert those in Charlestown that they were found out. The agents needed to identify them out of the many fishermen who would scatter that day for parts unknown and come back late in the day with their catch. They wanted tail him to the site of the porn factory and put it under surveillance.

Our best hope was for a slip up on their part and that is where I came in. It helped that no one had brought their daughter on their trip. I would stand out like a sore thumb. In our group was one of the profilers I had met in the safe house. We chose a cabin that was in the middle. Agent Lynn sat in a van watching me and the guests file in and out of the general store. I was set up on a step reading a book on fishing next to where a pay phone was. Now, how she would know which one of the men was a likely suspect, I don’t know. All I know is that as each man passed by me, she would rate them. The book was “An Idiots Guide to Fishing.” The problem was that having gone fishing with my Dad so often over the years and with Doug, I knew most of the stuff in the book already. But, I poured through the pages anyway and would watch the men pass me by. I had a couple of ribbons in my hair on the pony tails on either side of my head. I didn’t like the style. I was too old for it. There was a video camera in the van recording everyone walking by me and their reactions.

After about an hour and a half, almost everyone had left the place and it was just me and the agents out and about. Mom came up to me and motioned for me to follow her. After a few minutes, the profiler shuffled into the cabin and headed to a VCR machine set up for playing the tape. She put it in and waited. About an hour later she got the news that all the men were legit.

Agent Lynn started to explain what she was doing. “The book gave every man an excuse to look at you Samantha. What I looked for is someone who disregarded the book and looked at you. Of those that looked at you, I ranked them in terms of how many things they looked at. For example, shoes, jeans, ribbons in your hair, and more. If they passed you by again, I ranked them again, but only on three items. Your shoes, your pony tail, and your purse.”

She continued, “Now, in and of themselves, these things don’t mean that someone is a pervert. What they mean is that the person is evaluating you because they are comfortable with girls. They might be thinking your hairstyle is wrong, or those are shoes you don’t wear when fishing, or something. There were three men that walked by you that got the highest ratings. I was counting on our man being opportunistic. I signaled them to our agents and had them followed to their fishing spots. None of them has turned out to be our man.”

As we watched the tape, I saw something. “Excuse me, ma’am, can you rewind the tape for a moment please.” I said.

She did and started to play it. “Why not him?” I pointed to a man going in.

“He didn’t even look at you honey.” She said with a sense of confident certainty.

“True, but he is wearing low top shoe’s that are exclusively being sold by Eastern Mountain Sports right now. They have special laces that you pull up and can tighten rather than tie.”

“I don’t get it.”

“There is no Eastern Mountain Sports in the south. They are exclusively in the north east. With one exception, a store in Denver. When my Dad went to visit my brother Robert in September, he bought a pair of those at their store in Denver. We started getting their catalog soon afterwards and I like looking through it. See, even the emergency whistle he has attached to his backpack is from EMS too.”

“The only thing that proves is that he is from the New England area and not just from North Carolina.”

“Maybe, but agent Harvey here is aware of the girls being shipped to Canada for exploitation from south of the border. What if your pervert is part of that trade too or interested in it for his own desires? Then he would be travelling up north frequently.” I said.

“Do we have a name for him, Larry?” It was nice that she listened to me instead of shutting me down.

“Jonathan Albert Palmer, aged 39.” Larry reached for a phone and made a call. “Yes, George, Larry here. Can you check to see if a Jonathan Albert Palmer has been making trips to Canada? Yeah, I’ll wait.” A few moments later. “What have you got? Passed through American passport control in Montreal five times in the last two years on a plane to Philly. That’s the hub for U.S. Airways, right? Does it show his final destination? No, just Philly. Gotcha, thanks George. I’ll let you get back to sleep. Yeah, I owe you one, again. Okay, the usual. Backyard BBQ soon, I promise.”

“Thanks Samantha, sounds like we have someone else to check out.”

“Well, the cabins here don’t have kitchens, so what are we going to do about lunch?” asked Mom.

“Ever hear of Shoney’s?” said Larry.

We headed out to Lunch and, afterwards, they dropped us off at Knoxville and flew home. I learned from Bill the next day that they tracked him the next morning and all he would say is that he didn’t go fishing. But showed back up with a nice catch of fish to take back to Charleston. But, as far as the profiler was concerned, I made the biggest catch of the weekend. The profiler appreciated my eye for detail.

We prepared for the return of my grandparents. Robert Correy Miller, my grandfather, was a Marine for ten years. He married my grandmother, Amanda Hamilton, when he was nineteen and had my Dad the next year on February 29th, 1956. He got out of the Marines before Vietnam became hot. They finally settled in Spring Valley where he worked as a Park’s Service cop for ten years and then joined the foreign service after the end of the Vietnam war. All in all, he had worked for the federal government for forty plus years and now he was retiring. He was a security officer in so many embassies that he had lost count. He did eighteen month hitches. They required him to come back to the states for one hitch, which was before I was born, in Washington D.C., and then they headed out again. His last duty assignment was in Argentina. I heard he was happy to be coming back to Spring Valley to spend time with his family at last.

According to my Dad, he and my grandmother were not too happy to find out that their youngest grandson was now their youngest granddaughter from an FBI agent. With Jane and Robert out of the house, I was their last chance to have any real time with grandchildren. It didn’t help that my Dad was an only child. Grandpa Miller was a man’s man. He like things rough and tough. But, good Marine that he was, hearing that I was a government sponsored girl, he accepted my role as a girl as my duty to my country. I figured that he rationalized it by saying that he was away from family all these years serving his country, so how could he complain that his grandson was now a girl for the time being.

This still didn’t take the edge off of our seeing my grandparents again for the first time in years. The last time they saw me was when Grandpa died. They came back on emergency leave and attended the funeral. They gushed over me for a few minutes and rushed out on me just as quickly the next because there were more important people to see. It stung and made me feel even more isolated than before. It didn’t help that Grandpa Miller spent a huge amount of his time with my older brother Robert either. Grandma Miller spent her time with Jane. I felt all I got was their luggage. I just remember it saying Hartman. Wrong kind of heart.

The trouble they had accepting me I could tell started with my voice. Early on, Doug had taught me a female voice and cadence. So, when it came time for me to do Shakespeare, Mrs. Duncan had complemented me on how fast my voice became feminine. My parents heard it early on, so they took it in their stride now. Then, over the last three months of being a girl, all signs of Sam had disappeared and no one noticed my voice as being anything but Samantha’s voice. And then there were my mannerisms. While my family chalked it up to my acting skills, early training from Doug taught me how to be more girl like in my deportment. And finally, the coup de grace was my wardrobe which was all girl now. From my pants to my dresses, I couldn’t really see any boy there either.

So, when my grandparents landed in Nashville and we picked them up, their reaction to me couldn’t have been any colder than an Alberta clipper bringing a deep winter chill in from Canada. Upon meeting their all too girly grandson, no gifts were brought out. No hugs given at seeing their long lost grandchild. They were matter of fact, “so good to see you Sam, Paul, Pamela, and sorry we can’t see our real grandson yet. Nice to meet you Doug.” I got pats on the back and “we understand you are working for the government now and are on assignment too.” At least Grandma Miller was kinder to me that my late grandmother. She did complement me on what a fine looking young lady I was playing. But, as always, she took the lead from her husband and played it cool. Somehow, this iceberg needed to meet a tropical gulf stream or lava flow. I was grateful that Doug came along. He got their sunshine and warmth instead. I could see from his reaction to them, he was plotting already how to shatter their frozen wall of indifference with the summer of content.

Thanksgiving was just days away and they would be in close proximity to the Smiths. My biggest fear was if my grandparents would blow my cover? The triplets were eight months now and getting harder to manage. But, that is why Mrs. Smith needed me so much. It was also a great opportunity for me to ask Yvonne for help in taking care of them. I would help her with English. In moving to Canada soon, she would need to be bilingual. Having me as a teacher was a serendipity. I could help her understand idioms in English and she could teach me idioms in French. She helped me out a couple of times a week. She was scheduled to move to Canada shortly after my birthday in December. And, the De Champs would be our guests for Thanksgiving. The one irony in the whole thing is that Grandpa Miller spoke French. He had done a stint at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, CA, back in the fifties. He liked to show off the photo of him and Bing Crosby he took at something called the Clam Bake. Speaking French was how he got his job with the foreign service since they require proficiency in a foreign language.

And, due to Doug’s foresight, we would be traveling to Montreal on the Tuesday after Thanksgiving to give testimony to the Crown. Doug’s well placed comment to Bill meant that my grandfather would go with me because he still held a Canadian passport that he used for his work. Being on terminal leave meant he was still a government employee and under orders, so they didn’t need to send an FBI agent with us. I learned from Doug that it was not uncommon for diplomats to carry foreign passports for other countries in case of problems. This was a lesson he said they learned after a hostage crisis in Tehran, Iran, in the early 80s. So, we would all pass through immigration as Canadian citizens in a heartbeat. Yvonne was Yvonne Jeanette Miller on her passport. We were technically sisters. I liked that.

I had the week off from school Thanksgiving week. So, let the chain of events planned by Doug bring about the changes needed. First, there was breaking down of my grandmother’s wall. The Leitners brought over Sarah. Then Yvonne came over. And finally, the triplets. And, Sarah got her chance to do dress up with us girls. Grandma Miller sat and watched us in Janes room. We threw off our clothes and were down to just our panties and bras as we tried on several outfits at a time. Grandma Miller commented on a couple of the outfits that Sarah put on that she remembered them from years earlier. But, the iceberg remained. I began to despair of hope that she would change. Still, I had a good time with Sarah and Jane. Yvonne was thrilled to have girl time too. I enjoyed trying on some of Jane’s clothes. Jane enjoyed it too.

My grandparents were staying for the moment in Roberts room. One of the things Doug told my parents is that I should keep wearing my government issued appliances during their stay and to trust him. Like I wouldn’t. He also suggested the divide and conquer approach to my mom which had resulted in my grandmother watching our time of dress up. I had just gotten cleaned up after a brief shower and was drying off my face when Grandma Miller opened the door to the bathroom. The look on her face was mind blowing. She saw me naked, but as a naked she. She closed the door quickly and said she was sorry. A little while later, I was cooking breakfast for everyone and she came downstairs. No one was in the kitchen but us.

“Honey, have you had surgery to become a girl and you aren’t telling us?” she asked

“No, that is some equipment I wear to make sure I am not discovered accidently and my cover blown.”

“Well, this sounds strange, but how do you pee?”

“Just like you. I have to sit down. It has been specially molded to me so that my real appendage doesn’t get hurt and still works. It is meant to look and function as though I were a female.”

“Do you mind looking at yourself in the mirror like that?”

“No, my body hasn’t changed yet. Well, it is only recently started. So, there is nothing for me to see.”

“Well, it concerns me. You should talk to someone about it.”

“I do. They send me to a psychiatrist to discuss my reactions, needs, problems. She will tell me if I need to do something like she did this last time. Overall, her job is to make sure this experience isn’t harming me in the head as well as the body.”

“Really! How long has this been going on?”

“Since we started just about. The police felt it was important that I be well adjusted and not walking away from this work harmed in any way. That was very kind of them. They really look out for me.”

“Well, is this affecting how you feel about being a boy?”

“I can truthfully say that it hasn’t changed my opinion one bit about being a boy. I am just as happy to be a boy as I was before.” I wasn’t lying. I hated being a boy.

I heard Mom come into the kitchen. “Grandma Miller, I have to over to the Smiths and help her feed her babies. My Mom can finish cooking breakfast. I bet you two want to talk.”

Mom interjected, “No honey, I think your grandmother should go over with you to the Smiths. Amanda, I think you should see how well she works with the babies at their place. Samantha is amazing.”

“O-okay, if you insist. But, do you ever call Sam a male pronoun anymore?”

“I understand it bothers you. But, we are protecting Sam. In the police reports, Samantha is listed as a boy. By keeping Sam a girl, we prevent the bad guys from finding Sam. So, please use female pronouns and treat Sam like a girl. Especially in front of Mrs. Smith. If you feel you can’t, then please don’t go over with her.”

Grandma Miller and I walked over to the Smiths. “Thank you for coming. I love taking care of these babies, but Mrs. Smith doesn’t believe in boys taking care of babies. It really is unfair. But, that is the way the cookie crumbles.”

We were ushered in. I put Alice, Brian, and Carol into their high chairs while Mrs. Smith pulled out the Gerber bottles of applesauce and began to cook up oatmeal for the babies. The three of us sat down to feed each of the babies. I had Carol again. My secret favorite. It was fun. A real bonding experience. “What was Samantha like? You must have fed her when she was a baby.”

“No, sadly, we were overseas. We have missed all of … her growing up years.” She caught herself almost saying ‘his growing up years.’ “We hope to change that now. She is the only grandchild we have left who is still at home. It is only a matter of time before Jane gets married or Robert too. So, we don’t want to miss out on Samantha’s remaining years.”

“That is nice. And she is such a sweet girl too. I love the way she takes care of my babies. And, here,” she handed my grandmother a photo of the babies, “see the outfits she made for my precious babies. It was the nicest house warming gift we could have ever received.” My grandmother looked at the photo and saw the outfits I made during the summer.

“You made those?” I could tell she was impressed.

“Yes, Grandma Miller. I can sew too. I learned in my Shakespeare class. Mrs. Duncan has taught me how to do alterations. I also can make outfits from scratch. I even made my costumes for my Shakespeare class too. And recently, I made the costumes for my madrigal’s group at school.”

“You cook and you sew! Do you clean house too?” The way she asked the last question sounded mildly sarcastic. I ignored it.

“Since after fourth grade, I have been helping Mom clean the house.” I said plainly as though her question was for real.

“I was going to complement your Mom on how clean your house was and particularly your room, but, are you telling me that you keep your room clean all by yourself?” She was having a hard time believing this, I could tell.

“Yes, Grandma Miller. I like having a clean room. I also clean bathrooms, toilets and do laundry. I even taught Robert to do his laundry. I help around the house as much as I can.” I answered as sincerely as possible.

“Amanda, your granddaughter is so helpful to me also. She cooks and cleans. I love how she will do laundry, clean the house, and take care of the babies while I take a nap. She is quite the multi-tasker and helper. She has a generous soul.” After an hour of hearing my praises sung, we headed back home.

On the walk back to our place my grandmother asked me, “When did you become so well behaved and helpful? I remember you could be such a brat when we last saw you. We really didn’t like you.”

“I was a brat because I thought no one noticed me or cared. Doug came along and he taught me a better way to get attention. I learned from him. Last year, we were studying ‘Taming of the Shrew’ in Shakespeare class, when Doug pointed out to me that the shrew, Katherina, was the way she was because everyone ignored her. It is when she finds that she doesn’t have to fight for attention that she stops being a shrew. Shrew is another word for brat.” Thanks to Dr. Cramer’s observations, I understood better what Doug had taught me.

Grandma Miller thought about what I said for a moment. It finally clicked with her. “I am sorry I didn’t notice you. I really do care about you. Can you forgive me?”

I stopped and hugged my grandmother, “Sure, I can. As long as you forgive me for being a brat. I missed having you here. I love having family. And I love you.”

“I love you too. I am glad to have you back in my life. It looks like you make a better girl than I do.” I could feel her start to melt. I could still see the gears turning in her head even as we walked into the house.

A few minutes later, Mom was preparing a shopping list. “How big a turkey do you think we should buy, Samantha?”

My grandfather spoke first and said, “Why are you asking Sam, he is just a kid?”

“Her name is Samantha and she has grown up. Tell her you are sorry!” Mom and I were shocked when we realized that came out of my grandmother’s mouth.

“Amanda, stay out of this.”

“I will not Robert Correy Miller. You tell her you are sorry right now!” I was in a family fight all of a sudden. And I was the object of that fight.

“Amanda …”

“Don’t you Amanda me. I have dutifully followed you around this globe and it has cost me time with my family. And now that I have them back, you will behave yourself just as I did for you. You promised! This is my time now. We are moving here because this is our family. And this is our granddaughter for the moment. And you will get over it for my sake!”

Dad backed up his mother. “Dad, you know Mom is right. You need to understand. I chose to have Sam be Samantha for her protection. You, of all people, understand security protocols. And I would appreciate it if you accept my rules as I had to accept yours when I was growing up.”

“Son …”

“Mom is right. Please tell Samantha that you are sorry.” I had never seen my Dad be so forceful with his dad.

In a very long moment of introspection, my mother and I witnessed a miracle. Grandpa Miller stopped and thought before he spoke again. “I am sorry Samantha.” It was better than my brother’s sorry a few months back. But it was a big step forward.

“Thank you Grandpa Miller.” My mother and I went back to planning our Thanksgiving dinner.

My brother couldn’t make it for Thanksgiving. He would be home for Christmas. I rose early in the morning and went down to the kitchen. I started cutting up celery and onions. I threw them into a pan adding spices and butter. I began to sauté the mix. Grandma Miller came into the kitchen and sat down to watch me. I went over and started the coffee maker for her. While the celery was in the pan finishing up, I started to break apart cornbread we had let get stale days ago and put it into a bowl.

“Your mother has taught you well, Samantha. To be honest, I fully expected to find your mother slaving away and for you and your sister to be not helping at all. That is why I came down early. Are you going to stuff the turkey too?”

“Jane will be down later to help. She is doing the pies and the salads. I just like to get an early start so I am out of everyone’s way. We will cook the stuffing separate from the turkey anyway. There is less risk of salmonella poisoning that way. With a twenty-eight-pound turkey, it might not hit one hundred and sixty degrees in the bird’s cavity.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“From my Mom. She is really smart.”

“Is there something I can do?”

“Yes, would you help me peel potatoes please.” I handed her a peeler and she and I went to work on the twenty-five-pound bag. Mom is doing the mashed potatoes, but I like to spoil her by having them peeled already.”

“I used to do this with my Mom growing up. I loved to just talk and gossip with her. I miss times like that.”

“Gossip about what?” I inquired.

“Like about what boy I was seeing at the moment. Or which boys had invited me to the dance. So, Samantha, who has invited you to the dance?” She was just teasing. But I caught her off guard.

“That would be Dean Pilsner. He took me to the school dance back in October. My next dance is in a few weeks with Dad at the father-daughter dance. I am really looking forward to dancing with Dad.”

“Really, you have got to be kidding. You have been to a dance with a boy? Did he know you were a boy?” She giggled.

“Yes, I went to a dance with a boy. And no, he didn’t know I was a boy. And he still doesn’t. We take ballroom dancing classes together. We are also about to start ice dancing together.” I told her the cute story of how he asked me. Grandma Miller laughed and said it was sweet too.

“I am confused. Are you sure you didn’t have surgery to become a girl?” She teased.

“No Grandma, I didn’t. I still am a boy.” I giggled

“But you sure don’t act like a boy anymore. I don’t see any boy in you.”

“Well, I had to grow out of being a boy sooner or later. At least I am not a macho Robert. What else do you see when you look at me?” I looked at my grandmother and smiled.

“A happy person who is comfortable in their skin. A big difference from the last time I saw you.”

“I think it is because I am making a difference in the world. I am stopping bad guys. I don’t think it can get better than that. Sam is not lost. He is where he is supposed to be.”

“Samantha?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for calling me Grandma.”

“You’re welcome Grandma.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She then leaned back and kissed my cheek. We kept peeling away and gossiping.

Agent Jeanette arrived around one o’clock with the De Champs. The Rylands came across the street. The Smiths soon came in too. We had set up the dining room table to accommodate everyone. The Smiths were coming too. There were fourteen seats and thirteen of us at the table. With a satellite table for the triplets. It was a grand meal. Yvonne and I were positioned so we could feed the triplets. I was in heaven.

Before we served Thanksgiving dinner, we each said why we were thankful.

The Rylands began. They were thankful for good neighbors. The Smiths concurred and for me too. My grandparents said they were grateful for family. The De Champs said they were grateful for me. Jeanette said that she was thankful for a place to be on a holiday and for her job. But mostly grateful for the work I was doing. Mom and Dad said they were grateful for family. But Jane stole the show. She was thankful she wasn’t the turkey. And then for family.

“Well, Dr. Ryland, will you do the honors. I guarantee there will be no malpractice suit for this surgery.” My Dad teased. Dr. Ryland laughed. He did an expert job of dissecting the bird. The afternoon was awesome. Never in the history of our house had so many people been in it for Thanksgiving. I was grateful to be a girl with a future. I looked over at Doug and mouthed the words, “Thank you!” He smiled and had an extra piece of pumpkin pie. I went back to my girl like portion.

My trip north was something else. Agent Jeanette pressed my grandfather into service. As a government employee, he was the same as an agent of the FBI. Even better, he was family that could be ordered around. He didn’t mind. He liked the cloak and danger missions he had done before and this was a chance to do it with family. In that respect, my being a girl was giving us a chance to bond. Yvonne and I arrived at the airport and checked in with my grandfather. We were met by an undercover RCMP who introduced herself to us. Her name was Mary Leveque. We took out our brand new passports. Grandpa Miller already had one because of his being in the foreign service. He had yet to do his final week in D.C. where he returned all of his tools of the trade. We flew through Chicago and then to Montreal. We arrived and the Mountie led us to a van and drove us to a building out in the outskirts of town. There were two men and three women waiting for us. They were professionally dressed. I had to wait while they deposed Yvonne in another room. Then my grandfather and I were called in. Most of it was confirming that it was me on the video from the states and my interpretation of what was said. Then they put pictures in front of me to help me identify the men at the party outside of Nogales. Pretty straight forward.

But, then, my grandfather looked at the photos. “I know that man.”

The prosecutor looked surprised. “How would you know him? We have been trying to identify him along with your country.”

“I was the consulate security officer in French Guiana two years ago in the American consulate. His name is David St. Jean. He came in to get an entry visa. I never forget a face. Especially one that I wrote up and put on a watch list. I checked him out with the local police. While he had committed no crimes, he was a person of interest in a few murder cases. He was allegedly associated with a Jean-Claude Thomas who had served time for extortion and blackmail. Thomas ran a small drug empire too. Since we couldn’t tie St. Jean for sure to Thomas, we had to allow the visa. But, I put him on a watch list so that if there was every any association that could be proved, we could yank his visa right away. Now it looks like you got him and he can be brought in.”

“Not really, your government lost track of him weeks ago. He has gone missing and we are concerned about his whereabouts.”

“Do you think he presents any danger to my grandchild?”

“Probably not, but talk it over with the agents back in Spring Valley to be sure.”

For the next twenty minutes, Grandpa Miller gave all sorts of information on the possible associates of Thomas and St. Jean. Apparently, my grandfather was the very person the prosecutors needed to talk to next. I watched him. He was alive. He lived for moments like this. He was in on the hunt for bad guys. He was like that mouse I saw in a cartoon once whose whiskers twitched when he had an idea. And, he loved being in the midst of other cops.

While waiting on my grandfather, I spied a guitar behind one of the desks. The person at the desk smiled at me. Apparently, she had seen the video of me. She brought the guitar over and a pick. I took the hint. We had time to kill before the plane left to take us back home the next morning. We would be spending the night anyway. The legalities over with, I started strumming. Since there was a fair contingency of Mounties present, I decided to have a little fun. I played a few notes and sure enough, quite a few grins told me they knew the song. I began to sing ‘Ride Forever,’ by Paul Gross and David Keely, “Well I was born up north of Great Slave, 1898 … .” Pretty soon, we all were singing together “We are going to ride forever. Can’t keep horseman in a cage ... .” Even Grandpa Miller joined in at times. It turned out that a few of the Mounties had performed the song during an awards ceremony with Paul Gross in ’95. My grandfather sat beside me and watched me sing with all the Mounties too. He clearly didn’t know I played the guitar. But he also was intrigued that I knew how to connect with them. Afterwards, the Mounties and my grandfather started to swap war stories. Grandpa Miller had a long career in law enforcement around the world and being with kindred souls was nice for him. Having his granddaughter by his side listening to his every word only made it better. In a way, we were bonding through our work.

The head Mountie stuck his head in the door at one point. His name was George French. He asked if I would like to grow up to be a Mountie so I could join their band. I laughed and said no. But I thanked him kindly for the offer.

At the end of our interviews, the Mountie took us back to the airport hotel. She said her goodbyes. Yvonne and I chatted into the night about what she was looking forward to doing in Canada. Afterward, we spent the night in a restful sleep. The next morning, the three of us passed through American passport control with our American passports and flew home. Bill met us at the airport and drove us home. We dropped off Yvonne to her place and continued to our home.

“Bill, is there any word on this Jean-Claude Thomas and David St. Jean? Any reason we should be concerned?”

“No. If Yvonne and Samantha were to drop out of the picture, they still would be charged.” My grandfather didn’t press the point. But he looked concerned anyway.

Dad came in from work to find Bill and my grandparents relaxing in the living room. “How did the depositions go Dad?”

“Samantha was spectacular. I was shown her video interview with Yvonne. Incredible. How she reached that poor girl was amazing. I can see why you are so proud of her son.” Grandpa Miller called me Samantha!

Bill commented. “I think you would be impressed what she did last week too. She spotted a criminal that the professional profiler missed. I have been getting reports back from the field that she was again instrumental in breaking wide open a case.”

“Bill, is there a job I can do at Samantha’s school so I can keep an eye on her and my daughter-in-law. I would feel better if I was there to were there to keep an eye out for David St. Jean. Since I already know him, I can spot him faster than anyone else. I don’t care if I do janitorial work. I just want to be there to help protect them.”

“I will see if we can get you a job where you can mow lawns and take care of the outside of the school. That way you can keep an eye out for someone who is watching the school. However, you must realize that you can’t be armed.”

“Yes, that goes without saying. But, at least I can be in a position to notify the authorities when I see something.”

“Or someone.”

Soon, my grandparents had rented a furnished condo. The house was much quieter than the last few weeks. I gave my dad and mom a hug and kiss and went upstairs to bed. I sat on my bed and started to play my guitar. I had the door open, so Mom wandered in and sat down.

“I love hearing you play Samantha.”

“Thanks Mom.”

“Grandma Miller has really taken a liking to you. She can’t get over how much you have changed.”

“I hope it has been for the better.”

“Yes. Yes, it has.”

“Mom, I heard a song at school the other day that I like. You know me, if it is modern and pop, I really don’t care for it. But, I thought it would be a good one to learn and sing to you. I like its message.”

I began to sing the Spice Girls “Mama” to my mama. Tears ran silently down my face as I sang it. She sat there listening to the lyrics. I could see tears start to stream down her face when I sang …

“I'm not ashamed to say it now
Every little thing you said and did was right for me.”

After I finished, I said, “I love you Mom. I don’t think I can say that enough.” I put down the guitar and we hugged.

“Oh Samantha, you are such a blessing to me. And I love the person you are becoming.”

The next weekend, Dad had arranged with Mr. Thompson that one of our concerts would be at the local Country Club. He had a good working relationship with the golf course superintendent and hinted that things might look better if the club had the madrigals show up for a concert. Simple blackmail. Both of them knew it. Both of them pretended it was for real.

We all assemble in the foyer of the club. Our outfits looked very nice. The concert in front of the special Christmas dinner was very nice. We got to perform for the audience after their meals. All the members applauded us. Then, it was time for everyone to bring their child up to see Santa and we dispersed into the foyer again. As we were milling about, Mary looked panicked. She looked at me and then at someone coming towards us. I turned around and it was Wilson MacDonald. He was one of the boys who teased me this last summer.

“Sam?”

“No, it’s Jackie. Jackie Miller. Sam is my cousin.”

“Are you sure? I could have sworn for sure that you are the same guy I knew from this last summer. Right Mary?” Wilson was looking for support. He got none.

“She is right Tom. They are identical cousins, so to speak.” As he looked at me, Mary rolled her eyes and bit her lip.

I pulled out my Canadian ID and showed it to him. “See, I am Jackie Miller. I think you are confusing me with Samuel Coleridge Miller, my cousin and my doppelganger, that is, when he is in a dress.”

“Oh my, you are from Canada. And a girl too. I am really confused.”

“Yes, I was born in Myers Bluff, Quebec. It is a city just south of Sherbrook by about twenty kilometers.” I pulled out a photo of me and the Mounties my grandfather took for me and showed him. See, my dad is a constable in the RCMP. He happens to have the last name Miller too.

“I haven’t seen Sam at school this year. Where is he then?” Wilson asked.

“He is in Myers Bluff going to school. He and I exchanged places for the school year. He was so sad to lose his friend Cybil, that our parents decided to let us switch places. That way he could have some time to grieve over her without all the boys teasing her, I mean him. And his parents, my aunt and uncle, would have someone at home so they didn’t miss him too much.”

“Then why aren’t you going to my school?”

“Because my aunt teaches at Danvers.”

“Oh, I am sorry then. So you are really a girl!?”

“Yes, I am. And I have the birth certificate to prove it too. I’ll slap you if you ask for other proof.” Well, I was being honest.

To add credibility to my claim, I remembered that this was my purse had my Canadian passport too. I pulled it out and showed it to him. Thankfully, the contact address was Myers Bluff and the name on the passport was Leon Miller, RCMP.

“Wow, you two look so much alike.”

“Yes, I think that is why Sam wanted to take the Shakespeare class. So he could pull a practical joke on me. Cousins do that you know.”

“Well, tell him hi for me. I have to get back to my parents. But I had to tell them I knew one of the singers and I thought she was really a boy. They will laugh when I tell them the rest of the story.”

As he left, Mary looked at me and shook her head. “Quick thinking Samantha. But, had that been Tom Hinks, it wouldn’t have worked. Wilson has the IQ of a rubber ducky. I could sell him swamp land in Florida and he would come back asking for more.”

“I think it is time I went blonde or something. That way if this happens again, I won’t get caught.”

“Means a trip to the salon, girlfriend!” She looked at me with this mischievous grin.

I smiled back at her. “Blackmailer! Yes, you can come too.”

“Hey, if it works, why not? Blackmail can be a good thing sometimes.” Mary giggled.

We locked arms and both laughed as we talked about what I could do to change my appearance. We joined the others on the bus and headed back.

The day was coming for the Father-Daughter and Mother-Son dance at school. Mom agreed that changing my hairstyle and hair color could help avoid another Wilson encounter. Grandma, Mary, Mom, and I headed to the salon for our hair styling. I opted for a shade darker hair and a layered look with bangs. It was very much a different style. It was also nice to have time out with the girls.

Jane and Grandma helped me get ready for the dance. I had a nice simple blouse with long sleeves and a belted skirt that went to my mid-calf. I wore stockings and heels. Nice ear rings and necklace with a silver heart. I had a sweater wrap to keep me warm. It would be nice to twirl in the skirt. And it looked like a nice outfit to a father-daughter dress. Mom dressed in a similar dress. We went downstairs where our men were waiting for us. Doug took Mom’s arm and Dad took mine and we walked down to the car and drove to the school. They had set up tables with candles. They had red and green table clothes and looked very festive. It was a dinner dance, so we sat down to eat first. Dad pulled out my chair and I smoothed my dress and sat down. Doug did the same for our Mom. There were two choices for dinner. Chicken Cordon Bleu or a Mac and Cheese. We all chose Chicken. The students from the school were the staff. We could have a soft drink, fruit punch, or water. I went with water.

We ate and chatted. I sat like a lady with my legs crossed and my left hand in my lap. Dessert was a nice chocolate cake. In the background was Christmas music. Then, finally, they cleared the plates and the dance started.

It was mostly slow songs from the past. A little Glen Miller or Mel Torme. A little Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby. We danced the fox trot mostly. “Daddy, you should have taken some classes with me.”

“Sorry honey. Dancing wasn’t big in school for me. Do you mind?”

“It’s okay, Daddy, I am dancing with you. That is all that matters.” He pulled me closer. We danced slowly. I could tell he was enjoying the experience.

After four or five songs. Doug and I let Mom and Dad dance together. We danced for the first time. We had danced in class, but never together. It was nice to be in his arms. He was a good dancer.

They started to play Seal’s ‘Kiss from a Rose.’ We started to do a waltz. Doug knew that I enjoyed dancing and let me shine. He let me twirl and spin out from his embrace as we did a nice waltz. We promenaded and I realized that his talents as a dancer had grown. He and I worked well together and I was lost in dancing with him. I didn’t even notice what was going on with us. We didn’t see the parents and their kids stopping and backing up to watch us dance. We dance how we were instructed by our dance teacher. Our focus was each other. As the last lyric was song, Doug released me and I twirled to a stop and looked at him. I curtseyed to him and he bowed to me. Then all I heard from the dance floor was applause. I looked over and Mom and Dad were holding hands and smiling at us. Dad leaned over and kissed Mom and caressed her face.

Doug took my hand and led me over to Mom and Dad. We switched back and began to dance again.

“Honey, you are quite a beautiful dancer.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“And yes, I needed a father-daughter dance. This was an excellent suggestion.”

After a bit, we came to the last dance of the night. Mr. Thompson was again at the controls. Bless his heart, he did it again. He knew that I loved the music of Francis Cabrel. He put on his ‘C’est Ecrit.’ Dad and I started to dance and Dad let me dance away from him and around him in time to the music. It is a beautiful piece of music that invites that kind of dancing. We would dance and then I would release from him and dance solo and then back to him. My dancing was more interpretive than the foxtrot that my Dad did with me, but it was fun to twirl to turn and look at him in the eyes. Little by little, we became better dancers together. By the end of the song, we were dancing together. Not as many people watched me as they did with Doug, but we were watched.

As we were leaving, the principle came up to us. “Mr. and Mrs. Miller, I can’t tell you what a joy it is to have Jackie as a student here. At first, I thought she might be a gang member because of being sworn to our secret. But, she is a real delight. You must be so proud of her.”

They both looked at me and said in unison, “We are! We are!”

Dad leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you sweetheart. I think I had the two most beautiful girls tonight. Your mom and you.” I blushed and smiled.

“Thank you, Daddy. I think we had the two handsomest men too.” My dad smiled and hugged me.

Christmas Day was wonderful. The house was decorated and we were doing a simple meal this time. Robert was back from College. He and Grandpa Miller were having a grand time. Doug came over in the morning for opening of presents. It was communicated to my grandparents that we were a surrogate family. Truthfully, they didn’t mind. With me being a girl, he got all the attention from my grandfather which took the pressure off of me.

My presents were simple. I made for Grandma an apron that said ‘World’s Greatest Grandma!’ On the apron were all the countries they had visited during their time in the foreign service. She was thrilled. For Jane, I made a custom cashmere sweater with her name on the back and the numbers of the year she graduated from high school. It was a soft and warm sweater. She loved it. For Dad, I astonished him by making him a high quality suit for work. And for Robert, I made him a jacket in CSU’s colors with his name. It wasn’t a letterman’s jacket. But it had that feel. For Grandpa Miller, I made him a ‘World’s greatest Grandpa!’ apron with pockets for holding stuff for the grill when we did a backyard BBQ. And for Doug, I made him a tux for the prom with a note that I would make a matching outfit for Mary.

My gifts were interesting. From Jane, I got lots of makeup. Oh yes! Mom gave me accessories to go with my full closet. Yippee! Grandma gave me books which included ‘The Secret Garden.’ I noticed they were mostly books for girls. Nice! And Grandpa Miller got me a fly fishing pole. Well, a start. It could have been a football. I also got a new pair of ice skates which were perfect for a girl and for ice dancing.

For my birthday, however, I usually got very little. Mom had arranged for Doug and I to help Mrs. Allen with her house. “I know Mom, it sounds crazy, but I really want to help Mrs. Allen. She is getting too far along in her pregnancy to be able to do things for herself. I think it will be a fun way to spend my birthday.”

“Okay, but you know that a snow storm is headed here. It is going to be bad. You had better be prepared to stay the night.”

So, Mom made sure I was dropped off with back up clothes and other items. Same for Doug. The snow was already falling heavy at nine in the morning. It was the wet kind which means that the roads were going to be soon icing. Mom headed back home. Dad would try to pick us up after four. Mr. Allen was going out shortly to go grocery shopping since Mrs. Allen wasn’t up to it.

“Oh, thank you for coming Samantha! You have no idea of how much this means to me. Derek isn’t the best of housekeepers. Oh, and thank you Doug for coming too.”

We began in the kitchen. We washed pots and pans. Cleaned the refrigerator. Cleaned counter tops. Scrubbed the floor. And had it clean in a few hours. Mr. Allen poked his head around the kitchen door to say he was headed out now that he knew what they needed. We handed him a grocery list. He looked relieved that their kitchen looked like a kitchen again. He would be gone a couple of hours. Traffic was going at about twenty miles per hour around town even with the snow plows operating at full tilt.

We took a break. “Doug, do you think my grandparents are there yet? Are they accepting me?”

“Not completely, but the foundation is laid. Your grandfather will come around sooner than you think, but slower than you want. Your grandmother is just about there as you have already found out.”

Mrs. Allen appeared at the door of the kitchen with her legs slightly apart. A puddle of liquid was forming at her feet. “My water just broke guys. Call 911.”

Doug sprang into action and went to take care of her. “Call 911 Samantha.” I called and Doug got her to sit down at the breakfast table. He then went to the nursery and grabbed the emergency birth kit he gave them as a gift last month when we redid their nursery. “Samantha, you start to time the contractions.”

I did as he asked. A few minutes later, I told him, “Three and a half minutes apart.”

“The phone rang. It was 911. There was a huge delay. They were overwhelmed. They would try and get here as fast as possible, but the roads were very icy and there were no police even available to help. Doug took the phone, “I have an emergency kit for birth. Yes, I have assisted at the hospital with deliveries, so I should be able to help her. Get here as fast as you can. The front door is unlocked.”

Doug went up to Mrs. Allen, “I believe you are going to have a fast labor. That is not uncommon after the first child. If you are already at three minutes, I need to check the position of the baby as quickly as possible. I need to make sure she has dropped. Do you trust me?”

“I guess I am going to have to trust you.” Mrs. Allen looked a little worried, but Doug’s reassuring smile had her calmed down in no time.

“I have assisted about twenty births at the hospital thanks to my Dad pulling a few strings. Let’s get you into the living room. There is a chair there that can double as a birthing chair. Samantha, grab a bunch of towels and cover the chair after you put down this pad from the kit on the seat.” I went to do as he asked.

Soon, Doug led her into the living room and placed her in the chair. “Mrs. Allen, your contractions are at two minutes. I am sorry, but I need access to you in order to let the baby come out. This isn’t anything I haven’t seen before. I will also need to feel your stomach and make sure your baby is pointed right.”

Mrs. Allen removed her panties and with her wearing a dress, we saw everything. But, she didn’t care. She knew why. Nor did we care. I played a breathing coach encouraging her to breath and take deep breaths after every contraction. Doug began to feel around her stomach.

“Whew, we aren’t looking at a breech baby. She is pointed right and has dropped. How many weeks are you at this time?” Mrs. Allen clearly liked hearing Doug say this and knew he was asking the right questions.

She said, “Thirty-four I think. We just revised the date to January 14th. So, she is almost 35 weeks. Oh, I don’t know.”

“Mrs. Allen, relax, she will be fine if she comes now. She is at thirty-six weeks. All right Mrs. Allen, you are at nine centimeters dilated at least. I think she is coming in the next half hour. Just keep pushing. We’ve got this. Your baby is going to be fine.” I held her hand and Doug kept cleaning up. The gurgling sounds of birth and the fluids were flowing was unexpected on my part. I discovered that birth was a messy business. She was pushing more and more. Each contraction was stronger than the last.

“The head is crowning Mrs. Allen. I am going to massage the area to ease her exit. Just like I have seen doctors do before. Samantha, I am going to have you catch the baby, when I tap your shoulder, I am going to let you sit here. You have the receiving blanket, so when the baby comes, you just let her come out at her own pace. Don’t pull her. That way I can check her breathing after she comes out and clear her airways while you hold her.”

Doug tapped me and on the shoulder and as he stepped out, I stepped in. Seeing the birth canal was totally awesome, I could see her head. I put my hands out underneath her. With each contraction, the baby was coming out more and more. I took her head in my hand and waited for the rest of her. Her head looked oddly shaped. I found out later that was normal. Then, with the last few pushes, she came out and I caught her. It was the best feeling I could ever have. I held her while Doug checked her airways and cleaned them. At the same time, he began to rub her feet. Suddenly, she started to breath and cry. A good healthy cry too. Doug and I cleaned her up and put a blanket around her leaving the cord intact.

“Mrs. Allen, I need you to try and breast feed her. As you do that, I am going to rub your belly. This will encourage your body to expel the placenta. I am not going to cut the cord. I want Mr. Allen to do that if he can or for the paramedics to cut it.”

I switched places with Doug again and Mrs. Allen took the baby and pulled out a breast and offered it to her. She had done this before so she already knew how to get her to take a nipple. I watched in awe as mother and daughter bonded. I reflected for a moment that I had held Samantha in my arms for the first time. I held a baby’s hand when it was seconds old. The memories of the last words of Cybil echoed in my head. I was taking care of her mom and dad. Even better, I was holding my namesake on my own birthday too.

I looked out the window and the storm was getting worse. Soon, there was a knock on the door. I opened it expecting the paramedics and it was my Dad who had come to pick me up early. He saw the blood and goop on me and the smile too. Behind him came an anxious Mr. Allen with groceries. He came in to find his newborn daughter.

About twenty minutes later, the paramedics arrived. They let Mr. Allen cut the cord.

“Doug, you are going to make a really good doctor!” said Mrs. Allen.

We assisted getting them into the ambulance. I kissed Samantha Mary Allen goodbye. Mr. Allen would follow in their car. So, I got to meet Samantha Mary Allen face to face on her birthday. I was glad I was wearing old clothes. We cleaned up the living room, put away the groceries, quickly cleaned the nursery and the master bedroom, master bathroom, and locked the door on our way out. We hadn’t finished all of our cleaning, but we would come back in a few days and help them again. This time, I would be seeing and helping a new born too that I helped deliver.

When Dad got us home, I walked through the door and Mom took one look at me and asked, “Are you okay Honey? What happened to you?”

I was grinning from ear to ear, and said tearfully, “Mom, I just got the best birthday present ever!”

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[Author’s note: Please, take some time to play the videos I have linked. They will explain some things in the story.

I once talked to a relative’s fiancée about the four words on cards, People, Things, Use, Love. I warned her that my relative was coming out of a bad marriage and wanted to use her. She married him anyway telling me it was okay for him to use her saying I was too immature in the ways of the world to understand what true love was since I was not yet married (16 married years now). Three years later, they were getting a bitter divorce. She asked me after it was all over why I hadn’t warned her about him. I reminded her of the cards and said I did. You could have heard a pin drop. Little did she know I grew up reading my mother’s Ladies Home Journal and McCalls magazine articles on relationships. Silly me. I should have been reading Sports Illustrated like every other boy instead. – AuP]

Chapter 15 – An Unexpected Journey

I passed my Canadian passport to the immigration official. Grandpa had already given him his passport and the forms showing that I was a minor child under his control.

“It feels really hot here, Grandpa Miller.”

“Not surprising, the pilot said during the landing that it is going to hit thirty degrees today.”

“Well, it is set to twenty-one degrees inside, young lady. It must still be a big change from frigid Canada for you. Has any of your shoes or clothing been in a stream or lake prior to coming here?” the official asked.

“No sir. All my clothes are brand new. Including my shoes.”

An officer in a blue uniform with a badge emblem on his shoulder appeared. “Excuse me Bruce, they are here on Crown business. Please come with me Ms. Miller and Mr. Miller.”

Constable Leonard introduced himself and led us to a table where he stamped our passports. “Do you have all your luggage?”

“Yes, sir.”

He continued to check our documentation making sure everything was in order. “Did you sleep well on your flight?”

“I got some sleep sir. It was a very long flight. I think my grandfather can sleep anywhere. He is rested. I hardly got any.”

“My granddaughter is right. I have been around the world on security details. I had to learn to sleep the hard way.”

“I understand. It is good to have you both here. Especially on such short notice too. We think we got your man. It looks like he may have travelled under a false passport to Hong Kong where he caught a transport to here. But, we can discuss that at headquarters. By the way, I believe you are an agent? You aren’t armed are you, Mr. Miller?”

“No sir. I wish I was, but I was ordered to stand down on this trip by my government. We are here simply to confirm that you have captured the right man.”

“Good. We can only hold him so long. In less than ten hours, we have to release him if you can’t confirm his identity. Follow me please.”

He led us to a police car stationed outside. We put our luggage in his boot and headed to the police headquarters. We were taken to a room with a door to a dark room with one-way glass. Grandpa Miller went in first and the door was closed. I smoothed my skirt and sat down, crossed my legs, put my hands in my lap, leaned my head back against the wall, closed my eyes, and dozed. A female officer watched over me. Sometime later, Grandpa Miller came out and gently shook me awake, “Come on Samantha, your turn now.”

“Yes sir.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned.

Constable Leonard led me into the dark room. He gave me a minute or two to adjust to the light levels. “Now Samantha, the men on the other side of this glass can’t see you. But you can see them. We are going to call them in. Tell them to turn left and then right by telling the officer what you want. Don’t speak when the mike is on. We don’t want him to hear your voice. Your job is to identify the man you saw in Arizona. We want you to be one hundred per cent sure. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” I knew my job. Flying here was a gamble. I was praying it would pay off.

“Just so you know, Mr. Abernathy is here from the American Embassy. He is their security officer. Apparently he knows your grandfather personally and asked to be included because of the joint Canadian and American investigation. I guess you Canadians get around.”

“How do you do sir?” I put out my hand to shake his.

“A pleasure Samantha. Your grandfather thinks very highly of your skills.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “And no, no one here knows.” He gave me a gentle handshake.

The men were brought in. They stood facing the window. Then they turned left, then right, then faced the window. “Sir, can you ask them to show me their backs too?”

“Sure.” They were instructed to turn and face the wall behind them.

“Definitely the third man in from the left sir. The man I saw in Arizona had a tattoo on his neck on the right side. It said ‘Courage.’ The third man has that tattoo. I recognize his face and the tattoo. I am one hundred per cent sure it is him.”

“Must have been recently done. That is one of the many reasons why we couldn’t confirm his identity. Very good. Mr. Abernathy, you now have two independent confirmations of identity. I will let the Canadian counsellor officer know too. We can begin the extradition proceedings. You both can decide which country he goes to first.”

We exited the room where we were gathered to see the lineup and we all congregated in a larger room including my grandfather. Most talked shop until in came Superintendent Stanley of the AFP, the Australian Federal Police, who introduced himself to us as the head man of the Sydney office. He was Constable Leonard’s boss.

“Pity, he was going to led us to a child porn ring in Adelaide. He has gone tight lipped on us. Refuses to turn on his own. I think he wants to get back to the states. His ties here aren’t good enough for us to have leverage on him anyway. But we know who he was going to contact.” said Stanley.

“Is there any way to get around it. Can you do a sting and turn someone here? I mean you know his accomplices, right?” Grandpa Miller wanted more. He smelled blood.

“Not without the proper bait. We can’t get someone fast enough.” Stanley wanted him too. It was clear both men wanted a better outcome than just an extradition.

“How about my granddaughter, she could help? She has been used by the FBI in multiple stings to flush out child porn perps.”

“You serious! How?” Stanley was intrigued, but didn’t look surprised. I think he had heard something through the grapevine and wanted to hear it for himself.

“Well, for one thing, she is really a boy. Because of that, Sam can go topless and not violate any child porn laws back home.” Grandpa Miller was on the hunt. I could tell he let this bit of information go for a reason.

“But, her passport says she is a girl.” Said Constable Leonard. Grandpa signaled Mr. Abernathy. Mr. Abernathy pulled out my American passport, my real one, and gave it to Stanley.

“For your eyes only. Please return it when you are done looking at it. With a Canadian passport, she didn’t need an entry visa security check meaning they could fly right away and get here in time. Otherwise, we would have used her cover American passport. Time was of the essence, as you know.”

“You are American Samantha? I mean, Samuel. And a boy?!” said Stanley.

“Yes sir. I am really a boy. And that is why I have been an effective tool in flushing out the bad guys. They think I am really a girl. And since I present well, and so convincingly, no one doubts my being a girl in a sting. I am being used by Canada too now. We are benefiting from their cover too for the moment.” Mr. Abernathy took my passport back.

My grandfather spent a few minutes explaining to Constable Leonard and Superintendent Stanley how I was used and in each circumstance that he knew of from his own experiences. Constable Leonard then made a phone call and, rather quickly, I found my talents being called upon to capture bad guys once again.

A little while later, we went into a conference room. An agent from their vice task force sat down to talk to my grandfather and me. He was clearly an undercover officer. He hadn’t shaved for days and his clothes were a little casual. He had a lot of chest hair too. He had lots of bling. Gold chains around his neck and huge rings on several fingers. He smelled of cigarette smoke. I didn’t know whether or not he smoked, but it was obvious that he was playing a part.

“Samantha, outside of Adelaide is the world’s largest wooden Koaloa Bear and a toy factory. Next to it is a petting zoo. We would like to know if you would let us have one of our AFP agents lead you up to the Teddy Bear and take a few photos of you in panties and nothing else. Then take you away. There is a hill overlooking the site. Afterwards, we will let you go over and enjoy the petting zoo and into the toy factory. What we want to do is to establish that we are finding girls and letting them enjoy free toys and a trip to the petting zoo if they let us take special photos of them. This way we can convince David St. Jean’s associates that we are for real. Will you help us do this?” Sergeant Crawford said.

“Yes sir.”

An hour later, we found ourselves on an hour and a half flight to Adelaide. Being summer, it was thirty-eight degrees Celsius in the shade which is one hundred degrees back home in Tennessee. It removed any feeling of it being a holiday weekend and Christmas break from my mind. We arrived and were greeted by the local undercover AFP agent who took us up into the hills of Adelaide to a safe house. They were going to order out. But I looked in the frig and saw enough supplies to make something even better. I asked the blokes if they had potatoes, onions, and red wine. They did and a few other necessary spices. I went to work. An hour or so later, after cooking up bangers, peeling potatoes, making mashed potatoes, and reducing an onion sauce with grilled onions, I started to plate bangers and mash. It was very well received.

“I didn’t know you Yanks knew how to cook. This is ripper. Better than my Mum used to make!” quipped Constable Douglas.

“You don’t know my granddaughter. She could make a gourmet dinner out of leftover corn flakes.” My grandfather proudly stated. He was beginning to see my talents and me, not my sex. I found myself contemplating what I could do with corn flakes and had to pinch myself to wake up.

I was tired, but I wanted to see something before going to bed. I asked them if I could see the southern cross. We went out into the night and the agents showed us southern cross. One of them started to sing some Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. We all sang the ‘Southern Cross’ and watched the stars. The night was warm and I really could feel the heat. I was still used to a Tennessee winter.

“You sing nicely Samantha.” Said constable Leonard.

“I take choir in school. And I play the guitar and piano.”

“What are you learning to sing now?”

“I am learning to sing ‘A Girl’s Garden’ by Robert Frost” with the rest of the girls.

“Can I hear some of it?”

Out of me came this beautiful song and they listened. I sang it acapella. “That is so beautiful. You have a lovely voice, Samantha. What else have you been learning to sing?”

I began singing, “Down by the Salley Gardens,” by Yeats, once again acapella. I could see my grandfather shed a tear and smile. He really hadn’t heard me singing yet and didn’t know how many hours I practiced at school singing these pieces. Mr. Thompson had worked hard with me and I worked just as hard for him.

They all applauded.

“Thank you. You are so very kind.” I curtseyed.

“Samantha, I wish you could hear what a lovely voice you have.” Said Sergeant Crawford. I blushed but they couldn’t see it in the dark.

We said our goodnights. I went to sleep quickly. But, before I fell asleep, I could feel my grandfather pull a sheet over me and kiss me on the forehead. I heard him softly say, “Sweet dreams princess.” I obeyed.

In the morning, I got up to the smell of coffee. “Sorry I slept late. It’s my job to make coffee back home.”

The officers made breakfast for me. They said I was not to worry my pretty little head off. They owed me for such an outstanding meal the night before. Grandpa was sharing war stories with them about cases they all had worked on. He was in seventh heaven. So were they. The brotherhood of law enforcement was a good one no matter where one hung their hat. I sat demurely and listened. Then, I went to take a shower and get cleaned up. I reapplied my appliance and dressed in a nice sun dress. I made sure to wear pink panties. And I didn’t put on a bra as I had been doing lately.

About eleven, they came to pick us up. “It’s weird, Grandpa. It is hot. And we missed New Year’s Eve on the flight out. I have lost that wintery feeling. All I want to do is just go jump in a pool.”

“I think that is why your grandmother and I didn’t miss Christmas so much. Since most of my career has been south of the equator, I am used to this. For me, it is just another hot day and no holiday.”

“That makes sense. I liked listening to your stories Grandpa. It sounds like you had a lot of fun.”

“I have fun telling the stories now. At the time, it was hard work and frustrating. Computers are just starting to make it easier. But, we had to keep files at the embassies and that made it hard because you had to pour through the files to find that one bit of information for a relative whose child was missing or that request from the states to know more about a criminal’s background they needed day before yesterday. That is why David St. Jean fell through the cracks. I knew him, but the rest of the federal government didn’t. On more than one occasion, I had to make a trip like this to identify someone like St. Jean for extradition.”

“Are you going to miss the work?”

“Well, thanks to you, not yet!”

We made our ways into the hills. The agents showed me where I had to walk and what I had to do. Generally, everything goes as planned without a hitch. Not this time. The first inkling that I had that something went wrong was after I got dressed after the photos were taken. I walked towards the petting zoo as planned. I went by a parking lot where tourists could park and either go to the Koaloa Bear, the petting zoo, or the toy factory. As I started to walk past the parking lot. A man rushed out of a vehicle coming for me. He wanted to catch me and run off with me. I ran away as fast as I could in my heels, but he was catching up. Out of the blue, my grandfather popped out of a bush and ran to tackle him. Just as he reached me to grab me, my grandfather took him down. The man was armed. They struggled and two shots rang out. My grandfather held his side and the man fell over. The man was clearly dead. Right behind my grandfather was Constable Leonard, who quickly grabbed the gun and secured it.

Grandpa dropped to his knees and then sat down on the grass. I ran to my grandfather and pulled tampons out of my purse. He was still sitting up. I moved his polo shirt so I could see the entry wound. It was on the right hand side of his stomach. I quickly took out the cotton like material in the tampons and packed the wound and held on for dear life to stop the bleeding. I heard police radios behind me crying out for an air ambulance to come.

“Thank you Samantha. It hurts like hell. I wish you didn’t have to witness this. I love you!”

I cradled my grandfather and he held on to me. “Hold on Grandpa. I love you too. I can’t lose you. I need you.” I looked over at the body on the ground. The cruel reality of death permeated the air. Here was a man that a moment ago was alive. I looked back into the eyes of my grandfather. He had been watching me and I suspected he read my mind.

“Don’t worry honey, ain’t nothing going to take me out this time. I know where I was shot. They should be able to fix me up just fine. I just won’t be able to go back home right away.”

I heard sirens. Constable Leonard came over and checked the body. “You got him Robert. Keep the pressure on his wound Samantha. He should make it. He is right.” I could hear sirens coming closer. Soon, paramedics jumped out of an ambulance and headed to my grandfather’s aid and took over from me. They began to work on him and ready him for transport. Off in the distance, I could hear a helicopter.”

They loaded Grandpa and I into the air ambulance and flew us all off to hospital. Constable Leonard held my hand while he was in surgery. I said a silent prayer. Sergeant Crawford came in. “Samantha, how are you doing? Have you had someone look after you too?”

“I am fine, I guess. No sir, no one has checked me out.”

“It looks like you may have been hurt too. Let me take you down to have you looked after.”

Crawford and Leonard led me down the hall where they had a nurse look after my few scratches. I think they did this to distract me. I was still worried. Dr. MacArthur came in and said, “Samantha, your grandfather is going to be just fine. The bullet passed through the other man before wounding him. It didn’t hit anything vital because of the low impact velocity. We inspected his gut and fixed all the wounds. He should be good to go in a few days. He can’t travel for a week though. He will need to stay in hospital for two days at least for observation.”

“Thank you, sir, when I can see him, please?”

“We will have him in his room soon. A nurse will come and find you. You take care. I hear you are one brave little lady. It took a lot of guts to hold his stomach to stop the bleeding. I am very impressed young lady.” He patted me on the head gently and headed off.

Sergeant Crawford said, “Normally, we would send you off to foster care, but this is special. You are one of our own. I will take you in if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, thank you, sir. That is very kind of you. I hope I am not too much trouble.”

“Not at all, I have two very nice boys. Duncan, who is eight years old, and Trent, who is ten years old. We have a pool too. So, if you like, you can go swimming. In a few days, they are saying your grandfather may be taken to Melbourne in order to be under the care of the American Consulate there. From there, you both will be able to return to the states.”

Constable Leonard piped up. “We have to do an incident report sir. We will need to interview them for the inquest.”

“That is true. One step at a time though Constable. Let’s take care of Samantha first.”

When Grandpa was wheeled into the room, I had flashbacks to seeing Cybil. I began to cry. Constable Leonard held onto me and comforted me as a I started to sob. Grandpa came around and said, “C’mon squirt. Is that how my little undercover agent is supposed to behave?”

“No sir.” I said trying to hold back the tears but failing.

“Of course not. I told you I would be fine.” I took his hand and held onto it for strength.

Sergeant Crawford came into the room. “Robert, sorry about all this. We didn’t realize that the person we had met had a henchman follow us to the site. It was his job to snatch whatever girl that we had. They thought they were turning us. By capturing her, they thought they would have us in their grasp. Turns out that once they saw their guy taken down by your grandfather, they knew their asses were ours. They are facing attempted murder, kidnapping, and numerous other charges including involuntary manslaughter of their own man because of participating in a crime. These charges are far worse than if they had done nothing. So, they are singing like birds now.”

“There has to be an investigation because of the shooting, Robert. So, there will be officers here soon to take statements. I am sure you understand that.” Said Constable Leonard.

“Understood. I have been through that before with other shooting incidents. What about Samantha? Who is going to look after her?”

“I will. I have two sons at home. It will be nice for them to have to put up with a girl for once. But, right now, let’s get the interviews over with. I am sending in an officer who will take your statement.”

I was led to a room where there was a tape recorder and a uniformed officer taking notes. “Please sit down Samantha. We just need some facts to make our reports. When there is a shooting we have to do this. Particularly when it involves a shooting.”

For the next thirty minutes, I related the details of the shooting from when I started walking from the Koaloa Bear to the petting zoo to getting into the air ambulance. It was all pretty straight forward. I went over every detail I could remember. And, I could remember a lot of details.

After saying goodbye to Grandpa for the night, Sergeant Crawford took me home to his place. A constable had already swung by the safe house and picked up my stuff and brought it to us before we left hospital. His wife and kids were gone. I took advantage of the fact and cleaned up. I took a shower, shaved my legs and arm pits. I washed my hair and dried it. I thoroughly got scrubbed. I then reapplied my appliance and got dressed in my nicest outfit. I put on ear rings, did my makeup, put on pink lip gloss, and brushed out my hair. I then did my nails with a nice red. I put on a red headband and my necklace with a silver heart. I then put on heels and grabbed my current book by Charles Dickens and went into their beautiful living room. I smoothed out my skirt, sat down in a Louis XIV chair, put my hand in my lap, and with my other hand held open a window into the French Revolution. I was lost among French nobles in trouble when I was startled by a voice which said to me, “And who might you be, young lady?” I heard screaming boys coming in from behind her. They had clearly been playing soccer, or, rather, football. One of them tugged at his mom’s sleeve and said, “Who’s the pretty Sheila, mum?”

“My name is Samantha, Ma’am. I am here by the kind invitation of your husband, Sergeant Crawford.”

Just then, Sergeant Crawford came out from the kitchen where it looked like he was doing some paperwork. “Sorry Luv, I couldn’t get in touch with you. I had to make an executive decision. Boys, you can go get cleaned up and get changed. I need to talk to your Mom for a moment about our guest.” As they ran off, Sergeant Crawford told her about what happened that day and who I was.

“Oh my, you poor thing. I am so sorry your grandfather got shot. Yes, of course I want you to stay with us too.” She then turned to her husband and whispered in his ear loud enough for me to hear, “And she is a boy you say?!”

Sergeant Crawford nodded yes. Mrs. Crawford looked at me at a loss as to what to say. “Ma’am, what I do is important enough that I can’t break character. It is best for me and for the people I work with if there is no confusion about my gender in their speech or attitude. So, please, don’t even tell your boys unless it is necessary.”

She seemed to accept my explanation. “Well, then, we are happy to have you Samantha. I was just about to do something about dinner.”

“May I help you in the kitchen, Mrs. Crawford?” I set my book down.

“According to the men, last night she cooked the best bangers and mash they have ever eaten.” Sergeant Crawford spoke up on my behalf.

“Come on Samantha, I would love the help.” I followed her into the kitchen and soon found myself standing with her next to their refrigerator. “I was with the boys all day and have no idea what to do for dinner. Any ideas?”

“Mind if I do a quick survey?” She nodded yes and I looked thru the frig. I grabbed some butter, milk, Gruyere cheese, and then some Parmesan cheese. I put them out. I then found some deli black forest ham and Dijon mustard. “Do you have tomato soup, by any chance?” She pulled out some cans of tomato soup from her cupboards. I then checked her bread supply and she had more than enough.

“Croque monsieurs and tomato soup?”

“I think we will like it, but isn’t it hard to cook?”

“Nope. A French teacher recently taught me how to make them.” We went to work together. I made up the roux and then the cheese sauce first. She preheated the oven to two hundred degrees Celsius. We then toasted the bread in the oven while we heated the soup. We quickly assembled the sandwiches and put them in the oven. Soon, the dinner table was set and we were enjoying a French meal.

“Samantha, this is fantastic!” Sergeant Crawford was beside himself.

“Daddy, this is good! Can Samantha come more often?” Duncan, their youngest who is eight years old, was really enjoying the sandwich.

“Yes, thank you Samantha?” said Mrs. Crawford. “I didn’t know girls in the States could cook French food so well.

“It helps that my mother went to culinary school after my brother and sister were born. She didn’t think a history degree would get her anywhere. That is, until she became a teacher.”

“What grade are you in back home, Samantha?” Trent, their ten-year-old asked. “I am in year five.”

“I am in year seven Trent.” It was easy to convert my grade to their vocabulary.

“So, you are thirteen?” Duncan asked.

“No, I just turned twelve at the end of December. I started a year before I should have. It means that I have been both the youngest and the smallest in my class. But, I get good grades and it isn’t hurting me.”

“Why are you here?” Trent asked.

“Honey! That is impolite!” Mrs. Crawford said firmly and calmly.

“It is okay Mrs. Crawford. My Grandpa was helping your Dad and he got hurt. He has to stay in hospital and I need to stay somewhere until he can check out of hospital. Your Dad and Mom have graciously let me stay with you.”

“Well, if you can cook like this, you are welcome anytime. I loved the help in the kitchen. I don’t get much help from my boys.” Mrs. Crawford patted me on the arm and gave me a big smile. Then she glared at her boys.

“Thank you, Mrs. Crawford.” We got up from the table and I started to help clear the table and take everything into the kitchen.

“Boys, did you see what Samantha just did?” Mrs. Crawford gave her boys a long hard stare. I felt sorry for the boys. I was being used as an instrument of correction again. But, at the same time, I realized what my Doug taught me was very important. He got me to participate in family and not just be a taker.

Duncan came up to me and said he was sorry. He took some of my dishes and went with me into the kitchen. “Thank you Duncan. This is very kind of you.” I patted him on the back.

“Can I be your boyfriend Samantha? You are pretty. Like my mother.” Duncan was very bold for eight years old.

Mrs. Crawford smiled at his boldness and looked to see how I would respond with an amused expression on her face. “My mom won’t let me date until next year. Sorry Duncan.”

“Oh darn. My friend Roger has a girlfriend and he is always saying that I will never get a girlfriend.” Oh, how that tugged at my heart.

“Where does your friend Roger live?”

“Three doors down the street. In fact, he is coming over tomorrow to swim.”

I looked at Mrs. Crawford and got a mischievous smile on my face. “Well, while I am here, your Mom is my Mom and I am supposed to obey her. If she says I can be your girlfriend tomorrow, I can be.”

She giggled, “Well, we will have to see. I want my boy to treat his girlfriend right. And how he treats his Mum will be an important part of that.”

I picked up on her logic. “How clean is his room, Mrs. Crawford?”

“Oh, not very clean, Samantha. I would hate for you to have a boyfriend who keeps a messy room.” She was clearly enjoying where this was headed.

“Well, I guess tomorrow you can tell me whether or not I have a boyfriend for the day or not.” I pouted.

“True.” She pouted too. Duncan ran off and started to clean his room. We laughed.

The boys headed off to bed. I was told to stay up because of the time difference. I would be headed to bed just as my parents woke up.

About Ten O’clock at night, the phone rang. Sergeant Crawford answered the phone. “Yes sir, she is here and she is fine. She would like to speak with you.”

“Hi Mom and Dad. I love you and miss you. Have you talked to Grandpa?”

“Yes, honey, we have. He sounded good. We are concerned though. We may have to rethink you participating in this if it means you can get hurt.” Dad said.

I felt pain at hearing that. This could tank my being a girl. But, right now, I had to play along and trust that Doug would take care of their concerns. “I understand. Still, something Grandpa said today put it into perspective for me.”

“What is that honey?” Mom asked.

“The man will never use that gun on a girl again. Somewhere in Australia are little girls who will grow up in safety because of what I did today.”

I heard silence for a moment. Then Dad said, “Well, we will have them do a better job at the very least. We love you sweetheart. Are you being a good girl?”

“Yes sir. I am being well behaved. And the Crawfords are real corkers. They have been extraordinarily kind to me. I couldn’t be in better hands. I am going to be swimming with them tomorrow. They have their own pool.”

“Did you pack a swimsuit, dear?”

“Yes, Mom. Grandpa bought a one-piece with Officer O’ Brien before I left. They did a nice job of choosing clothes for me too. I am going to have to thank her when I get back because I know Grandpa didn’t choose them. I do need to do laundry tomorrow, but I have more than enough clothes. I love you. See you soon. Tell everyone back home I miss them. Tell Doug I miss my brother.” I hung up.

Sergeant Crawford said, “I like what your Grandpa said. He is right. Today you both saved a lot of little girls. That makes you a hero.”

“I don’t know sir. I just feel like a scared little girl right now. Thank you again for taking me in. I really appreciate it. And your boys are really nice.” He patted me on the head and said he understood. Then he sent me off to bed.

I brushed my teeth, got ready for bed, and climbed into bed and fell asleep right away. Somehow, my body clock adjusted to local time and I woke up at six. I went to the loo and went out to the kitchen. It was Sunday morning. I sat at the breakfast table and read more Dickens enjoying the warm sun coming through the window. It was strange enjoying long days in the midst of what should be winter for me.

Sergeant Crawford came out and sat down with me. “Samantha, just to let you know. The story has hit the news service. They have heard a man was shot and killed at the Koala Bear Toy Factory who was attempting to kidnap a child and that an American got hurt while stopping him. It is being handled by the local police bureau’s public relations officer. The good news is that they can’t print your name because of you being a minor. But, the bad news is that your grandfather doesn’t have the same protection. The Vice Consular from the American Embassy is coming here to accept a commendation for his bravery in a few weeks. The media has been given a cover name to print, Roscoe Calvin Milsap. So, it shouldn’t mean much. But, it does mean that if anyone hears you talking about the shooting, they will know about it. The story is that your grandfather saw the man rushing to grab a child and your grandfather tackled him. When he did, the man’s gun went off and killed him. Your grandfather is being called a hero.”

“Well, I think I can live with that.”

“Well, not only that, it has hit the national news in your country too. Local man does good. So, his story is being sent all around the world. It means that you will have to be careful not to be photographed with him.”

“I understand.”

A press release was issued on behalf of my grandfather.

“I appreciate all the well wishes for what I did. But what I did any other father or grandfather would do. I am sorry that it took the man’s life. It is sad that his own gun took his life in the struggle to stop him from harming a precious and innocent child. I request privacy for me and my family. I am no hero. The greatest thanks one can give me is my anonymity. Please understand, I will not be granting any interviews or making any appearances. I am an ordinary man and wish to stay that way. Please respect that and allow me my privacy. Humbly yours, Roscoe Calvin Milsap.”

Of course, the media didn’t care. The press sent their minions in to try and ferret out who he might be. They carefully and quietly transferred my grandfather to home care. He and I were in the same room with a nurse attendant. And I was happy to be together with him once more even if it meant I slept on a cot. He arrived about the time we started to go swimming. I had put on my swimsuit. It was a nice green suit. My appliance made it look smooth. It was my first time swimming as a girl and I was nervous. It made it easier to be in a private pool.

“Mrs. Crawford, can I ask a favor?”

“Yes Samantha.”

“My Mom isn’t here, and I don’t know if I am wearing this correctly. She usually instructs me on how to behave right as a girl. Speaking of which, your boys need to learn to leave the seat down if there is a girl guest in the house. I don’t think I need to explain why.”

She smiled at finding out that she was needed and how she could help. She also giggled at the toilet seat warning. I think she was happy to have a daughter in the house too, even if it was a boy in reality. Mrs. Crawford spent a few minutes showing me how to adjust the suit and make sure it doesn’t crawl up into my bum or reveal too much. I thanked her and grabbed a towel and went out to their pool. The boys came running out and jumped into the pool making all sorts of waves and splashing me in the bargain. Boys!

Duncan had worked hard and cleaned his room, so, I was his girlfriend for the day. He couldn’t wait to tell Roger when he showed up.

Roger said, “Samantha, you are Duncan’ girlfriend?” I came up behind Duncan, being taller, and put my arms around him. I kissed him on the head and said, “Yes, I am his American girlfriend. He is the only Aussie who asked me. I was heartbroken until he came along. I have never had an Aussie boyfriend before. I am very honored that it was Duncan who asked.” I took his hand and kissed Duncan on the cheek and stood between him and the pool.

“Wow, you are a lot prettier than my girlfriend and bigger too!” said Roger. I resisted laughing and just nodded. Mrs. Crawford looked at me and I could tell was having just as much trouble holding her laughter in too.

“Not even Trent has a girlfriend yet. So, I am way ahead of my brother.” He said to Roger. I had to quickly jump into the pool and laugh under water so no one would see. I came up and saw Mrs. Crawford was rushing inside for the same reason.

The afternoon was fun. I had a good time and, thanks to good sunscreen, I developed a nice tan. The Crawfords wanted me to enjoy a little more of the area, so they left my grandfather at their place to sleep under the care of the nurse and took me to a mall where I could enjoy eating pizza with them and the boys. We had a good time. I was surprised that they ate pizza with a knife and fork. I followed suit although I really wanted to pick it up and eat it with my hands. While looking around the pizza place, I saw a woman with grey hair about the same age as my grandmother sitting with a man about the same age with her. She was thin and had a blue and white horizontal stripped long sleeved shirt on. She wore simple jeans. He was casually dressed too. They were enjoying some quiet time together and I could tell he loved her. I came to the conclusion that they were man and wife. When I saw her get up, I realized that she was frail and sickly. She used a cane and leaned heavily on his arm too as they walked. They headed towards the restrooms. I immediately saw a problem. I got up and went over to him and said, “Do you need someone to take her in to the woman’s room, sir?”

“Oh, would you? You are so kind.” His concern for her was written over his face. I smiled and nodded.

“Hello Ma’am, my name is Samantha. May I help you?” I led her gently into the bathroom using me as her second crutch.

“You are an American, aren’t you?” She kept her hand firmly on my shoulder as I walked with her slowly to the women’s room.

“Yes ma’am.” I calmly opened the door to the ladies’ room and led her in.

“Thank you, so many young people don’t have time for their elders these days.”

“I understand. I volunteer at a senior facility back home where I live. I find it very rewarding.”

“Who brought you here?”

“My grandpa brought me on a business trip to visit Australia before I go back to school after my Christmas school break.” I scanned the bathroom for an empty stall.

“Oh, I didn’t see anyone with you my age who might be your grandpa. Is he okay?”

“Oh yes, he is now. Someone hurt him yesterday and he is being taken care of right now by a nurse. It has delayed our returning home a few days while he gets better.”

I brought her to an empty stall door. I pushed it further open and helped her in. She said she could take it from there. I told her I would wait. I closed the door, holding it shut, and guarded it. I waited patiently until she was done. I heard the toilet flush. Then she opened the door and I led her to the sink where she washed her hands.

“I had time to think Samantha. Was your grandfather the one who was hurt by the bad man in the news, honey?”

I looked up at her and my eyes filled with tears. My lip began to tremble. Her face turned to concern because it was obvious that I didn’t need to say anything. “Honey, were you the girl he was protecting? Was the bad man trying to kidnap you?”

I nodded yes. She smiled at me and caressed my cheek. “No worries dear. I won’t say anything to anyone. I just wanted you to know that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You are a kind and sweet girl with a heart for others. Now I know why your grandfather wants to keep out of the spot light. I couldn’t understand why until now. He is still protecting you, isn’t he?” I nodded my head again. She hugged me and I led her out of the rest room. I had tears flowing down my face still when I handed her off to her husband.

“Thank you so much sweetie.” the man said.

I choked out the words, “Your welcome. It was my pleasure. Thank you for showing me what real love looks like sir and ma’am.” I waved goodbye.

I went back to the table. They asked why I was crying. “Because they love each other so much that even with all their suffering, they think of others. I think they are the most beautiful people I have seen all day.” I blew my nose.

A day or so later, after doing laundry and teaching the Crawford boys how to do it too, they snuck Grandpa and I into the airport. We hid in a tiny room off the jet bridge and they got us onto the plane in advance. To disguise the fact that we were Americans, we spoke French the whole way to Melbourne. We arrived at Melbourne and were greeted by Mr. Abernathy who had flown over from Sydney to take care of us personally. We were taken to a home outside of town where we were we could stay for a few days while my Grandpa healed more.

“While you are here Samantha, I would like to take you to Sovereign Hill and the zoo.” Said Mr. Abernathy.

Mr. Abernathy arranged for a driver and we were taken to Ballarat were we stopped and saw costumed people filing into the front door of this rather plain looking building. We went in and purchased tickets for the day. I was impressed with the displays. The history of the place was amazing. It was an alluvial mining operation and gold rush area. It attracted people from all over the world, including prospectors from California. The displays and the villages were amazing. I talked to people who played the roles of people in the period who told me what it was like back in the 1800s. It was fascinating to meet reenactors who, like myself, were playing a role out of place to what they really were. I found out that if I ever return during the school season, I can dress up as a girl of that period and find out what life was like back then as a student. I then visited the gift shop and bought some souvenirs and books.

After we finished our five-hour tour, Mr. Abernathy and I went across the street after lunch. It was a scout museum.

We stood in front of a portrait of Lord Baden-Powell, the founder of the Boy Scouts. “Samantha, it is a shame you can’t be in scouts right now.”

“I don’t know; it seems to me that I am living out their oath. And I seem to be doing good deeds.”

“You should think about scouts after you finish helping with this. I hear that by the end of the year, they will have finished using you.”

“Yes sir. That is why it is so important to make every moment count. The more I can help, the more who will be able to live lives free from someone who wants to harm them. I don’t need to go eagle to know that what I am doing is far more important than just wearing a uniform and leading little old ladies across the street. It is doing it when no one is looking.” I thought of the lady I helped the other night. As a Boy Scout, I couldn’t have given her the help she needed. Of course there were tradeoffs, but I knew they were worth it.

Upon our return, we were met by Superintendent Stanley. “Samantha, I have a little present for you.”

“What is it, sir?”

He handed me a little book. It took me a moment; I saw that it was a passport. An Australian passport. I opened it and it was mine. It was my photo and it said Jackie Samantha Miller. I looked up at him wondering what it was all about. “We want you to come back in June, after school, and spend some time here. Your visit here was too short. And, we owe you a nicer time down under.”

“But, a passport? Why?”

“We don’t want you to have to worry about a visa.”

“Thank you, sir, I would love to come back. No, I will come back.”

We were secreted onto the Quanta’s plane. Because of their pulling strings, we were in first class for the return flight. Our seats were together, but separate. I would have loved to snuggle up against Grandpa, but couldn’t. I liked that we could lay almost completely flat and go to sleep if we wanted. We had an elegant dinner and talked. My Grandpa was still looking out for me even on the flight. He made sure I curled up and went to sleep on time. He once again pulled the blanket over me and told me to sleep well. He called me a princess again. I had my eyes closed when the attendant came over to check on us.

“Is there anything we can do for you Mr. Miller?”

“No, I can’t drink alcohol because of the drugs I am taking. But, maybe some water.”

“Is she your granddaughter?”

“Yes.”

“She is lovely and so well mannered. I see how much she loves you. You must be proud.”

“Yes. I am now more than ever.”

I woke up and found out that we had flown by Hawaii and mere hours from Los Angeles and home. I returned my seat to the upright position. My grandfather was sleeping still. The attendant brought me some water. We chatted.

My grandfather woke up and began to do the paperwork for our landing. The AFP stamped our American passports, as well as our Canadian passports, so they showed we had been in Australia. We passed through customs and gathered our luggage. Then we headed off to our flight home. We got in around one in the afternoon. Bill greeted us and brought us down to home since both my Mom and Dad had to work.

“I have talked to your Mom and Dad. They now know that the reasons things went wrong in Australia was because there wasn’t a guardian ad litem to oversee the sting. They didn’t know that the guardian looks only at your safety during the sting and insures every contingency is taken into account before they are allowed to use you. For example, the parking lot at the toy factory. He would have made sure that you didn’t pass by any vehicles without an escort. So, I think your job is safe, Samantha.”

“Thank you. I am more convinced now than ever before I am doing what I am supposed to do. I would hate to stop now.”

“You and me both, Samantha.” Grandpa hugged me.

Just then, Grandma showed up and came in. “It is so good to see you both. My heroes!” We all hugged.

I went upstairs with my luggage and unpacked. I put my new clothes away in the closet and then went to take a much needed shower. I dressed nicely again and came downstairs. Grandpa was resting in the living room chair. He looked up. “Oh honey, you look beautiful. Why the special dress?”

“Tonight is Friday, and I think it would be nice to go see a movie with Mom and Dad. I would like to see Amistad. I know it is rated R, but it is about John Quincy Adams gaining the freedom of men unjustly taken from their land and forced into slavery. I am hoping Mom and Dad get the hint when they come home.”

“We’ll see. Your Mom and Dad may want to go out on a date tonight for just them.”

“If they do, will you and Grandma take me?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Well, what is in it for us?”

“Time with me.” I pouted and pleaded with my eyes acting as coyly as I could.

“Oh, I have had plenty of time with you lately young lady.” My grandfather was clearly enjoying teasing me.

“Robert Correy Miller, you are incorrigible!” Grandma poked her head in from the kitchen to end the argument. “Of course honey, if you parents can’t take you, we will. I have heard good things about that movie. And I, for one, would enjoy spending time with you. Especially with you looking that pretty.”

“Maybe we can all go together?” I heard Dad’s voice. I turned around and there he was. I ran to him and hugged him as though my life depended on it. “Oh Daddy, I missed you so much!” I got the warmest hug back. I realized I was his princess too.

“I missed you too honey. And yes, you do look pretty tonight.”

“How about me Sis?” I turned and Doug was standing there beaming at me. I went to him and gave him a big hug too.

“Hey, we are the ones who need to hug you, Sis. We really missed you too.” Doug hugged me back.

Mom showed up a little later and we all went to dinner and the movies.

The next morning, we went to see Erin. “Thank you for coming in on a Saturday. How is the jet lag?”

“Awful. My body says I should be asleep right now. I am going to have a tough time staying awake in class come Monday.” I yawned and stretched.

“I understand. So, let me get right to the point since this is a brief meeting. You saw a man die in front of you. I have had clients see that happen in their law enforcement career. It isn’t easy to have seen. There are a whole range of emotions that go with it. So, I have informed the agents that I am taking you off of duty for a month as standard protocol. This is normal.”

“Why?”

“Well, the next time you go out, you are going have a knee jerk reaction. What I am going to have them do is rehearsals with you to reacclimatize you to doing stings again. Most officers need a chance to get back into the groove. The axiom of getting back on the horse misses the point. Sometimes you need to get on a gentle horse first to find your feet again sometimes and work back up to that bucking bronco.”

“Oh, okay.” I didn’t get what she was trying to say. Maybe it was the fatigue from jet lag.

“So, how do you feel watching a man die in front of you?”

“Sad. Angry. Humiliated. And scared.”

“Is that all?”

“I think that is quite enough.”

“Well, I might feel confused, guilty, vengeful, and curious too for example. You have seen something that few have seen. The last moment of someone’s life.”

“I saw Cybil die. Isn’t that the same?”

“No. You had a long goodbye with her. This man was a stranger. Your sole introduction to him was that he was out to attack you. Your brief relationship was short and frightening.”

“Mr. Miller, how do you feel about what happened?”

“Please call me Robert. I feel much the same as Samantha. I have seen violence in my career, but this is the first time someone died. However, for me, it was a little different. I have real wounds which gives me a reason to relax and heal. I also had a reason for the violence. I was protecting her from getting hurt. I guess it would be harder for Samantha here who had to witness the whole thing.”

“I guess I feel sick to my stomach too.” I said.

“Good, talk it out. Don’t hold it in.”

“For that brief moment, I was his prey and I felt helpless and vulnerable. I keep seeing that hideous look on his face. He was grinning like he had me and I didn’t stand a chance. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t because I was too scared. I guess I am mad that I didn’t scream like I thought I would. It was just so unexpected.”

“Well, I assume you were in an open field. The problem with being in an open field like that is that it delays your processing of what is happening. However, in your grandfather’s case, since he was on high alert and trained to protect, he reacted quickly.”

“Which saved me from harm. Thank you again, Grandpa.” He smiled.

“Samantha, what I want you to realize that you are empathetic. More than most. Which means that even though he may have deserved to die because of his actions, you will still feel it was unnecessary. That is not bad in and of itself.”

Erin stopped, walked over to me, and put her arm around me.

“Look, Samantha, it will take time for your mental wounds to heal too. Taking some time to think about what you saw will help you grow and mature. He deserved to die because he made bad choices. He chose to attack you. He chose to carry a gun. He chose to be there. You didn’t chose for him. He was one hundred per cent responsible for his death. You need to see it that way or you will feel guilty for the rest of your life.”

“Then why was I there? Wasn’t it to help hurt him?”

“You were there to stop him from getting worse or doing worse. But, you need to heal because you have something he didn’t have. He had no conscience. You do. He didn’t care if he hurt a child. You do care if he did, or else you wouldn’t feel pangs of guilt that he died.”

I hugged her. “Thank you Erin. You always make me feel better and help me see things.”

“How about you Grandpa?” Erin asked. “How do you feel?”

“There is a child present and the words I have are very adult. But, I feel angry too. I didn’t want him to die. I really didn’t know he had a gun. But, now that I do, I think the outcome was as good as it could get.”

“Well, the important thing is that you two have each other. Don’t be afraid to go off and talk about what happened with each other. If you feel a bad word come on, just replace it with ‘bleep’ or ‘bleeping’ or even ‘bleeped.’ It sounds like it will do you both good.”

After we left, Grandpa said, “I like Erin. She has a good head on her shoulders. I can tell she has worked with law enforcement before.”

“I like her too. She has helped me a lot.”

Grandpa took me to lunch and we had an interesting conversation. He took me to a little restaurant nearby the university and we sat by a window watching people walking by.

He was deep in thought when he asked, “What do you plan to do when this is all over and you aren’t a girl anymore?”

I played with my girl sized salad and thought for a moment. “I have been learning so much, I really don’t know. In the last few months, I have helped deliver a baby, travelled to Canada, Australia, eastern Tennessee, and Arizona. I have learned how people lived in the mid 1800s this week. I have seen how three different governments handle the law. I have no idea what I will be like when the end of the year comes and I have to move on. I just know that the world seems to be opening up to me. I don’t want to say right now. But, I like the choices in front of me. And they seem to keep expanding too.”

“Is that why being a girl is worth it to you right now?”

“I guess so. Being a girl has taught me so much more about life that I can’t explain. I am not just learning about medicine and the law. I am also learning about people. I am also learning so much more about myself and the people I love.”

“Do you miss being a boy?”

“I don’t miss being called a sissy or being picked on. That is all ever being a boy meant to me. Even Robert liked picking on me. I never stood up to him before. That is, until I became a girl.”

“You stood up to Robert? Really!” Grandpa was shocked.

“Oh yes, that is how this whole sting thing began. I gave him a piece of my mind one night and then taught him how to do laundry the next day. It was when his friend Josh tried to use me that all this started.”

“Do you think that is why you didn’t cry after I got shot?”

“How do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“Samantha, what I have seen in you is a confidence that you didn’t have before. When I last saw you, after your other grandfather died, you were afraid of your own shadow. Frankly, you were a coward. Yet, when you came up to me to take care of my wound, you didn’t run. You faced the problem head on when I got shot. You found something to do and you did it. Sergeant Crawford told me before we flew back that when you got pizza in the mall, you got up and helped a frail lady go to the bathroom without any prompting. Tell me, where does that kind of courage come from?”

“I don’t know.” I was intrigued that my actions were even noticed.

“Well, I think being a girl for a while is helping you become less concerned about what people think of you and giving you the freedom to do the right thing. Do you know what a cocoon is from school? Have they taught you that word yet?”

“Yes, it is what a caterpillar turns into before it becomes a butterfly.”

“Well, I, your Grandma, your Mom, and your Dad all think that is what you are in right now. As a boy, you are in a girl cocoon. And, when the time comes, you will emerge as a butterfly.”

I reached down and picked up my silver heart hanging from my necklace. I opened it and showed it to my Grandfather. “Grandpa, do you see the photo in my silver heart?”

He grinned from ear to ear. “Why yes, it is a butterfly. But, how?”

“Erin gave me this locket on our second visit. She said much the same thing. That is why I have been wearing it more and more.” I got up and hugged my Grandpa and gave him a kiss. “Thank you Grandpa.”

“For what?”

“Being so understanding.”

“Viens, mon Papillion!” ( Come, my butterfly) I hung on to him as we left the restaurant. I was proud to be his granddaughter.

Monday, at lunch, I talked to Mary and Vicki about the birth of Samantha Mary Allen.

“Jackie, you have a wonderful tan! Where did you go on your Christmas break?”

“Just places. But, I have great news. Mrs. Allen had her baby and I helped deliver her!” I quickly changed the subject.

“What was it like?” asked Mary. She had only heard Doug’s side of the story.

“It was wonderful. I held a new born infant in hands. She was so small and precious.”

Vicki asked, “Did feel like you were going to drop her?”

“Thankfully no, only after I handed her to Mrs. Allen to breast feed her baby did it occur to me. It was magical to see her take her breast and give it to the baby. And then for the baby to take it instinctively. I don’t think I will ever forget that moment.” In my exuberance, I bumped my purse off of the table and everything fell out onto the ground.

Vicki and Mary helped me put everything back. As I was putting things back in, I looked at Vicki. She had this strange look. I had forgotten that the purse I took that day was from the trip. She held in her hand a thin book with an airplane ticket inside. She opened it and looked over at me.

“You are an Australian? And you just came back from Australia?! And you have a tan. What aren’t you telling me?”

“My grandfather took me on a quick trip to the land down under. And I have an Australian passport because, well, it is a little complicated to explain. I just have one.”

“That’s weird though.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Well, there is rumor going around that you are Canadian.”

“Where did that rumor come from?” Mary inquired.

“Oh, some boy named Tommy was asked us at the mall the other day. When he heard that I was a student at Danvers, he asked if I knew you. He was curious to know if you were really Canadian.”

“Well, actually, Vicki, I am Canadian. That is how I got an Australian passport during my trip. The two countries are linked by the monarchy of the United Kingdom.”

She looked at my passport and handed it back to me.

“Jackie, you are a mystery. Are you like a spy or something?”

“Not really. I just get around.” Mary and I headed out. Now I know that Tommy Hinks was making inquiries about me. I needed to talk to Bill before he does something stupid and blows my cover.

Mr. Thompson pulled Mary and I aside to talk to us during choir. “We are now going to move into competition mode. We have a nice repertoire of songs that we will use again in Nashville in April, but I think we have a secret weapon this year. It is you Jackie.” The look on my face was enough to tell him that I wasn’t on board.

“Hear me out Jackie. You have a strong voice. I would like our solo to be you. I know you can pull it off. My sister is always sharing with me songs in French she quite likes. She brought me a song by Florent Pagny called ‘Chanter’ that I think we can use. I would like you to listen to it.” He reached over to the CD player and pressed play. We listened to the song.

“It is a pop song. I like it. Seems fitting for me because it is saying ‘sing always and for every occasion.’ But something tells me it will work if you sing it. It is also a song that can be modified to allow a choir to back you up. And the advantage with you is you feel the words and it comes out as you sing. Listen to it again and you can hear where a choir can back you up.”

We listened to the song again. “Sir, before I say yes, can I go ask Mrs. Cox a question about a lyric? I want to make sure I have the correct interpretation.”

I went down the hall into her class. I stood in the back. She was teaching a lesson about the past imperfect tense. She handed the students a sheet of paper and was having them complete sentences. I waited patiently. She came over to me while they were working on their assignments.

“Mrs. Cox, I have a question for you about a lyric to the song, ‘Chanter.’”

“What does ‘Pour quelqu'un qui s'en va, Pour ne pas cesser de vivre’ mean in context? It isn’t someone just leaving, is it?”

“No, Jackie, it isn’t. In context, it means someone who has died. The gist is that you never stop singing to keep their memory alive.”

I softly whispered, “Like my Cybil.” I turned back to her and said, “Merci mille fois.” I returned to Mr. Thompson’s class.

“Can I put on headphones and practice singing with him, sir?”

“Sure.” He plugged in the headphones and pressed play setting the song to keep looping. I listened a few times to get the lyrics down. I then closed my eyes and began to sing with Florent and each verse started to take on meaning. I sang “Pour bercer un enfant” and the memories of holding Alice, Brian, Carol and being there for the birth of Samantha flooded my soul. I sang ‘pour quelqu'un qui s'en va, pour ne pas cesser de vivre’ and could feel Cybil’s hand as she left this world. I sang “couvrant les fusillades” and thought of the two shots I heard just a week or so ago that ended a life. Each lyric brought a memory back. I sang my heart out. Tears flowed silently from my eyes. I felt every word cleanse my soul adding more meaning to the verse of the song, “pour oublier ses peines,” which means sing to forget our pains.

At the end of the song, I opened my eyes. Mary held me because she could see I was about to collapse from the release of so much sadness and grief. About half the class was in front of me listening to me and the rest were silent where they were with their eyes fixed on me. They were watching me the whole time I was singing I think. They began to applaud.

“I didn’t understand a word, Jackie, but, wow!” said Grace.

Dean winked at me and said, “N-nice! Y-you s-sing so p-pretty.” I hugged him and said thank you.

Mr. Thompson smiled at me, “I think you can see now why you are our secret weapon. No one has dared do a solo in a contemporary tune in a foreign language in competition because the words have little meaning to them. It takes real passion to sing like that and lose yourself in the words. You have that passion Jackie.”

“Thank you Mr. Thompson. It seems if I say no now, the class will revolt.” Mary smiled and squeezed me.

The week passed by quickly. I called Bill and told him about Tommy Hinks. He said he would take care of it. My classes became more normal and the feeling of being off elsewhere disappeared in the routine of daily activities. My tan slowly faded and no one seemed to notice it anymore. Saturday, my Dad asked me to dress up. He decided to take me to a local hotel for lunch that had a high end restaurant. He wanted to spend time with me alone. As we entered the hotel, we bumped into an old friend of his from school whose daughter was getting married.

“Paul, I haven’t seen you for years. How are you doing?”

“What are you doing here Alan, I thought you moved to Louisville?”

“Yes, I did. But my little girl grew up and met a boy from here. And well, they just got married. We are having the reception here. My gosh, if I had known you might be in town, I could have sent you an invitation. I am so sorry that we lost touch with each other. What brings you here today?”

“I am having lunch with my youngest daughter. We still live here as a matter of fact. Samantha, this is my long lost friend Alan Carlson. We went to high school together. He was in the grade ahead of me.”

“Hello Mr. Carlson. It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.” I put out my hand and we lightly shook hands.

“Well, I will leave you to have lunch with your very beautiful and polite daughter. Be sure and poke your head into the reception. I would like to introduce you to the family. I must get your information. My new son-in-law works at the local hospital as a radiologist. So, we are going to be visiting frequently. We would love to see you again.”

Dad and I had a pleasant lunch. I had lamb chops with mint sauce and asparagus. The conversation was wonderful. Dad told me about the new bypass they were working on that would allow quicker access to the Interstate into downtown. He discussed all the politics he was having to put up with which had me laughing and giggling. I talked about my being Duncan’s girlfriend and driving Roger nuts. Then I recounted the things I learn at Sovereign Hill. I mentioned the solo Mr. Thompson wanted me to do for the competition. Dad was impressed.

Afterwards, we went by the reception to say hello to Mr. Carlson. The room was filled with wedding guests. I figure that there were about two-hundred and fifty people there. The bride and groom were at their table. We went to the table for the bride’s parents.

“Paul, this is my wife Francesca, my son Devon, and my younger brother Oscar, whom you might remember since you were both in the same class.”

“Good to see you again, Oscar. Have you done your father daughter dance yet, Alan?”

“In about three songs or so. Why?” Dad leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Mr. Carlson smiled and said, “I will be right back.”

“What was all that about Dad?”

“Oh, I asked him to return a favor. I found a way for him to go to the prom years ago with the girl of his dreams at the moment and he is going to repay the favor. By the way, he married that girl sweetheart.” I looked at my Dad and wondered what he was up to now. He seemed very giddy to me.

Mr. Carlson came back and winked at him. “All arranged Paul.”

“Thank you so much, Alan.”

“My pleasure. I have a soft spot for spoiling daughters too.” Mr. Carlson beamed at me.

I looked at Dad with a questioning look. His answer took me by surprise. “Honey, did I tell you that after the father-daughter dance I went to your Mom’s friend Denise and had her teach me how to waltz during my lunch breaks. I have been studying for almost a month it seems. I didn’t want to disappoint you again if the chance ever came up again. I was thinking maybe Valentine’s Day. But, I think this will do.”

“No Dad. Honestly, you didn’t disappoint me.” I looked up at him and he smiled. I knew he didn’t believe me.

“Yes, I did. But not this time.” He took my hand and led me to the dance floor to join everyone else. The last song stopped and he took his position with me in a classic waltz pose. I put my hands around him as best as I could with his being so much taller than I and assumed a classic waltz pose too. The DJ announced a waltz and the music started. It was the Blue Danube.

My Dad began to lead me in a waltz step. One, two, three. One, two, three. I found myself flowing around the room in his arms. He looked down at me and beamed at one point almost causing a misstep. I heard him say, “Well, your Mom says that if I am going to ask you to be a girl, I should treat you like one.”

We lost ourselves in the music. My Dad had greatly improved and it showed. I felt my skirt move and sway to the music as we danced to the luscious music of Strauss. He twirled me around and promenaded me like a pro this time. The music was slow enough for us to get used to each other’s movements and adapt. Soon we were all over the dance floor. We were getting better and letting lose. I looked up into his eyes and they were twinkling with delight. I think he was getting the hang of being a Dad with his daughter. He was loving me as only a Dad can. It was a softer side to him that I was seeing. As the song came to a conclusion, he released me and I twirled to a stop almost in front of the table of the Carlson’s. I deep curtseyed to Dad and he bowed to me. Mr. Carlson applauded. He then took my hand and led me off the dance floor.

“Thank you Alan. You have no idea how much that meant to me.” My dad gave him a hug.

“Well, I have to follow that with my poor dancing. Paul, you didn’t tell me your dancing would make me look bad. But, it was beautiful watching you two, so I forgive you. And thank you for letting me do that for you Paul. You are going to make a graceful and beautiful bride one day Samantha. And I know you will break your Dad’s heart just like my Andrea did mine tonight. So you be gentle.” I smiled and blushed.

“Thank you, Mr. Carlson.” I took Dad’s arm and we headed out. It was a wonderful end to a Daddy date.

Once out of the room, I took Dad’s arm and put it around me and held on to him as we left the building. I enjoyed feeling his strength and love.

I felt like a million bucks and very happy. “Thank you Daddy. You certainly know how to treat your little girl right.” I felt his precious hug in response.

Any sense of guilt over the last few weeks left me. This girl was whole again and ready for more.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[author’s note: As I write, I often play songs on Youtube that speak of each character. Samantha’s video is very particular. It is an eleven-year-old girl that won a Kid’s Voice competition. She matches closely how I imagined Samantha when I first starting writing her character. I based Sam in the beginning on the looks of a boy I knew in high school who could have, if he wanted to, passed for a girl. When I saw this video, I realized that she was his doppelganger after a fashion. Here is the video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cODUw5uH7cY – AuP ]

Chapter 16 – The Grandfather Clause

The door was plain and ordinary at the old courthouse. Nothing remarkable about it at all. Just a sign that said ‘Authorized Personal Only’ was all it said. Hidden behind it though was the last part of a three month investigation into child porn in five states and at least four countries. Men and women sat on a grand jury returning indictments of various people.

I passed the time leafing through some fliers that agent Debbie had on people that the FBI wanted. It wasn’t the ten most wanted. But, it kept my mind busy and it gave me something to talk to Debbie about. She laughed at some of my observations. In all the male cases, my occasional whispered punch line to Debbie usually was, “Clearly needed to be a girl for a year as a kid.” And my mom’s final response to all my silliness, “If you don’t stop driving Debbie nuts young lady, I am going to make you wear boy clothes for a week.”

I pouted. “No need to get mean, Mommy, I’ll behave.” Then I smiled at her and winked. She laughed. We all were clearly bored and a little teasing made the time pass quicker.

Yvonne came out of the door with her mother. She saw me and skipped over to greet me. “Allo, my English is much better now, non? Thank you for introducing me to your vriends. They were bien amiables. And, I learned much, non?”

“Yes, they were very kind to you and to me. Quel dommage, this means goodbye, n’est pas? You will be heading to your new home very soon?” I said realizing that her time here was near its end.

“Oui, zhey are taking nous zhere on Friday and we live zhere for good. Will ewe come visit, mon amie?”

“Bien sur, mon oncle Robert lives in Bernardston, about a three and a half hour drive from you. I will be visiting him often, I hope.”

We chatted a few more minutes and then the bailiff said it was my turn to testify. We did “la bise” again and said au revoir. It was good to see her again.

I couldn’t wear Cybil’s funeral dress anymore. I had outgrown it. Or rather, it was designed for a girl who was a little less curvy. So, I wore the nice dress that Officer O’Brien bought me in December. I looked very nice. I went in, smoothed my skirt, sat down, and told them about the interview in Douglas and about the identification of David St. Jean in Sydney. They were impressed with my story about Adelaide.

The grand jurors were very friendly as was the federal prosecutor. They complemented me on what a fine young lady I made and what a good job I did in Arizona. They asked questions about what I said in French and why I said something to Yvonne in French a certain way. Agent Jeanette Du Pres was in the room to act as a translator for Yvonne and also to clear up any confusion between my fourth year advanced conversational French and how a native French speaker would have interpreted what I said. She gave me a present. It was a book called ‘Merde! Street French’ to round out my education.

And that was the end of the grand jury. I learned later that I wouldn’t be needed for the federal trial except maybe for David St. Jean. Everyone I had encountered had accepted a plea deal except for St. Jean. To protect me and my true city of origin, St. Jean’s trial is going to be in St. Louis. It will make it easy for Agent Debbie as that is her home base. Unless I really was needed, I wouldn’t need to testify. Her testimony and that of my grandfather’s identification will be sufficient to put him in Nogales at the house party.

The next day, I dressed up in a pair of girl’s jeans and blue tennis shoes with black socks. I put on a baby tee top and then put on pull over red pull over knit sweater over it. I then put on my silver heart necklace. I thought about a nice choker instead, but it would have disappeared in the collar of the sweater. I put on a head band and I was ready to go.

Grandpa came by and took me on a quick trip down south and where he used to work years ago. We walked the battlefield of Shiloh.

“So, you used to work the grounds here. What exactly was your job?”

“Keeping looters from digging up Civil War relics and selling them. I didn’t work with the visitors. My team and I kept the amateur diggers and opportunists from digging up our history and selling it. It was great.”

“So, why did you bring me here?”

“To teach you about General Grant.”

Grandpa turned to me, looked me in the eye and said, “Lincoln wrote of Grant that he couldn’t spare this man, he fights. That’s you too, Samantha. You fight. I have come to know what you have seen and have gone through for the last four years. I know you are growing stronger and healthier.”

He then pointed to a thicket in front of me. “Look, here is the Hornet’s Nest. The real lesson of Shiloh is that Grant was caught by surprise. Even worse, Sherman ignored warnings that Confederate patrols had been spotted close to their camps. It could have been a defeat for Grant. It nearly was the first day. But, the Union army held its ground for the most part. The next day, with fresh troops and greater numbers, the Union army turned it around and sent the Confederates running. But, there were consequences. This made Grant look bad.”

We continued our walk along the battlefield tour path of Shiloh. Grandpa told me more, “Your ancestor, Ezra Camden Miller, served in the Indiana 44th. That is one of the reasons we moved to Tennessee. He walked this very ground as a private. He watched his friends die. He was fourteen. He did what was common in that day. He stood on a piece of paper with eighteen written on it and swore he was over eighteen when the recruiter signed him up. Our family fought for this land here. This was one of the bloodiest battles of the whole Civil War’s western front. And consider, Grant’s career was nearly ended here. But, Lincoln saw through that, and because of this battle, we have two of the greatest generals on the Union side team up and become a force to be reckoned with. Grant and Sherman. Sherman was depressed. So was Grant. But, their friendship healed those wounds and brought victory to the north.”

I stopped to survey the now serene battlefield. “It would be nice to have someone to partner with like Grant did. It must have made it easier to get over the bad stuff that happened to them to have Sherman at his side.”

Grandpa put his hand on my shoulder. “Ironic that you mention that. You do now.”

I looked at my Grandpa. He had a smirk on his face. “What do you mean I do now, Grandpa?”

“I brought you here for two reasons. One, to show you how strong you have become as a person. Two, to give you some news that both will shock and delight you.”

“News?” I was really intrigued.

Grandpa’s smirk turned into a engaging grin. “You have someone who is willing to play your brother during stings and join you in helping to take down child porn rings. He is smart and knows you already. And, he is willing to keep your secret. Apparently, he admires your dedication and skills.”

I stared blankly at my grandfather for a moment. Then, I said, “Doug?” He was the only person I could think of who would be willing to help me.

“Nope. You won’t believe who it is.” Grandpa was milking this.

“Tell me Grandpa, please tell me.” I looked up at him and pleaded with my pout. It must have worked.

“It’s Tommy Hinks.”

“What?!”

“Yup, I talked to Bill today before bringing you here. They were impressed with Hinks’ detective skills at finding out about you, so while interviewing him and giving him a good what for because of his snooping, he turned the tables on them by asking if he could help instead. He pointed out that you both look somewhat alike, so he can easily pass for being your brother. And, you are far enough apart in age and size that he can be a great asset to the team. And, his parents’ are on board with his doing this.”

Still in shock, I asked, “Are they going to have him dress as a girl too?”

“No, he is going to remain a boy. But, because Tommy’s duty is now to watch out for you and help keep the bad guys from finding you, he wants to remain at his school and protect your cover. He figures it is the least he can do since he almost blew your cover. His name during operations will be Sean Jasper.”

Grandpa went on to say, “Also, they have changed the format of the stings. They figured out a better way to use you. You and Tommy are going to be kids in a faux family where the Dad or Mom is trying to sell photos of the young daughter to a suspect. This way, they can take as many of the purchasers off the street as possible. In doing so, they believe they can uncover the suppliers. It is a safer way to use you. Less traumatic. I won’t go into all the details, but the results will be much the same with less danger.”

Then he smiled and said something extraordinary, “And, they wonder if you would be available to help them with victims. They think if you come in to help like you did with Yvonne and Vicki, you could help convince victims to reveal more about the people who harmed them.”

I stopped for a moment in front of an old Civil War cannon to reflect on all the good news when something hit me. “Wait, isn’t Bill supposed to be telling me this?”

Grandpa’s grin turned into laughter. I could tell he was very happy that I asked. “Normally, yes. But he gave that job to his new assistant.”

He patiently waited while I processed what he said. I lit up and stood on my tip toes, pushed on his bent arm, and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you Grandpa! That means you are my boss!” I giggled with joy.

He patted me on my back, kissed my head, and continued. “Because of my work in law enforcement and my extensive career, I have been grandfathered into being able to work for him. So, I am now working for the state and not the State Department. And, I get to keep my passports for the time being too by agreement.”

The rest of the tour, we talked about the soldiers that fought there and how tough it was for them to return to home after the war. There was no help back then for the mental wounds of war. Then we talked about Adelaide and how I was doing and how he was doing. On the whole, I was handling it much better than I thought I would.

I couldn’t tell Grandpa about what Dr. Cramer said to me during our last private phone session, “The hormones and blockers you are being given will make you more emotional to be sure. But, ironically, they are reducing your anxiety levels so much right now they are acting better than any anti-depressant would. This sometimes happens with a transgender patient. The emotional extremes aren’t so bad because they feel their real self coming out. Their brains quiet down as they feel the effects of the hormones they feel they need and want. In your case, you are relaxing and feeling more confident as you progress.”

I asked her why. “Because, I believe your brain is wired to work best with estrogen versus testosterone. Now, down the road, you will have emotional bumps. But, because we have gone with pills instead of shots, I think your brain is adjusting better than it would otherwise. Of course, this might not work for someone else. But it is working for you now which is all that matters.”

Grandpa had a few more surprises for me. After we left the battlefield, he took me to a late lunch at a nearby bistro. I noticed he kept looking at the door to the restaurant. “What’s up Grandpa?”

Just after I said that, I saw a man about Grandpa’s age come through the door and wave at Grandpa. He walked with a cane and I could see that one of his arms was withered. He joined us at our table.

“Have you ordered yet Robert?” said the man. As I looked at him more closely, I could see scars on his face and arm which looked like it had chunk taken out of it years ago. He must had had some sort of accident that must have happened years ago. The scars spoke of something catastrophic like a fire or a car wreck.

“Hi Roderick. I would like to introduce my granddaughter, Samantha.”

“How do you do Samantha.” I shook his withered hand. It was surprisingly strong.

“Samantha, this is Roderick Garrison. I met him years ago at a Veterans Hospital here in Tennessee. He served in Vietnam and was a Sergeant in the Marines. He saw some heavy action. He and I struck up a friendship because he loves researching Shiloh. He is quite the expert. But, why I wanted to introduce him to you is that he is also recipient of something quite extra-ordinary. He won the Congressional Medal of Honor for saving his platoon in Nam. I think his wounds tell the story.”

Grandpa told the story of what happened in Adelaide to Roderick who silently nodded. “Well, it seems you are one brave little fighter Samantha. It takes courage to step into the gap.”

“Thank you sir. But it doesn’t compare to what you did on the battlefield.”

“That is where you are very wrong, Samantha. You do compare well. My special forces training helped me deal with what I had to do. While you didn’t have special forces training, you had a special grandfather who stood by you and protected you. And you have a team to lead you through to the other side. I did too. You are just beginning to understand the phrase ‘band of brothers.’ Trust your team.”

I was a bit embarrassed, so I tried to deflect. “Do you miss being in the military?”

He did an end run. “Well, of course I do. But, I also know my time of service has come to an end as will yours. And that is where a little history will help you to know that you aren’t unique in your family. You know, years ago, young boys would become drummers for units in the Civil War or enlist too young like your ancestor, Ezra, did. They saw the horrors of war and came back wounded in their own way. One of those soldiers, as you know, was your great great great great grandfather Ezra. He was fourteen when he joined and almost eighteen when he was let go by the Union. He saw the horrors of Andersonville as a prisoner the last few weeks of the war. And, he almost was on the Sultana when it caught fire and became one of the worst maritime disasters killing more than the Titanic. He let a soldier go in his place because he wasn’t in as bad of shape. That act of compassion saved his life. Let tell you more about him. Ezra went on to become a town marshal in the New Mexico territory after the war. During the cattle wars, he did something I believe speaks of the kind of courage you will have after this is over.”

I was awestruck with this man’s question of me. I stammered, “W-what would that be, sir?”

“A cowboy name Jess Larson shot and killed Ezra’s deputy, James Smith. Ezra lead a posse to capture him and bring him to justice. You see, Ezra served with his James in the war. They were close as brothers could be. No one would have batted an eyelash if he killed Jess. But, by bringing him back alive, Ezra showed that the rule of law was the best vengeance. Ezra would return to Indiana a few years later and serve as a sheriff in the county he grew up in.”

Grandpa piped up and said, “One of the reasons I love talking to Roderick is that he has spent time researching the Indiana 44th to find out what happened to each soldier that returned home. He wants to find out why some move past their trauma and others don’t. When he told my about my great great grandfather, I was blown away. I knew from my father that he was a good man and faithful to his wife. It seems that divorce hasn’t been a problem in our family tree. One of the reasons is the commitment of the men to do what they are hired to do. I think that you are keeping that tradition alive.”

We talked about his injuries. I asked if he had lasting mental injuries. It was a very healthy discussion and I learned about how he dealt with his injuries and how to reach out and ask for help. He was pleased that I already was talking to someone and working with her. Fortunately, I didn’t wake up with sweats and feeling trapped. But, I learned about danger signs and how to ask for help.

After lunch, we said our goodbyes. Grandpa and I remained and had dessert. As we sat there, I saw a woman come in. She was dressed for spring and it was still cold outside. I saw her shake with the jitters and look around the room. She was doing her best to look normal, but her movements were jerky and unnatural.

“Grandpa, see the woman in the green dress at the counter. Why is she shaking?”

He studied her for a moment and shook his head. “Sadly, Samantha, most likely drug use and mental abuse. See, there is a gentleman’s club next door. I am embarrassed to say that is where men pay money to see women take off their clothes and parade around in front of them. Many of those women feel they don’t have any other means to make it in the world. They start taking drugs to numb the pain of what they are doing to make money. The men don’t care. They are just objects for them to ogle over. Many of the women who work there come from abusive families too.”

“Is there anything we can do to help her?”

“You already are. By helping stop the exploitation of girls, you are helping girls not become like her.”

“But, how do I help her now?”

“I wish I knew, Samantha. I honestly wish I knew.”

A few days later, I was at the rink earlier than normal. Dean would be there soon for another skating lesson. I just wanted to watch some skaters. I sat down on one of the benches around the rink and readied to put my skates on. I enjoyed the smell of the ice and listening to blades working the ice. I think it is one of my favorite sounds in the world next to a guitar player working the frets of his guitar. It becomes part of the work and performance. I wish Americans would not hate it so much. I went to an ice show a year back in Nashville where I could watch top world skaters. The Americans would crank up the volume of their music for their performance. But, when the Russians skated, they would turn the music down and, being close to the ice, I could hear their blades work their jumps, spins, and turns. Hearing blades work the ice is its own symphony. There is a sound when a skater holds their edge that sends chills down my spine because I know that a skater has to be really in control to hold that kind of edge before a jump.

I spied at the other end of the rink this one skater who impressed me working his patch. He was landing triple flips and also doing double Salchows with ease. I enjoyed watching his spins and the graceful way he did backward crossovers. And he was doing them well in both directions too. He was athletic and graceful.

As I laced up my skates, I began thinking about how Dean would look soon once he found his skating legs. We wouldn’t be doing many jumps in ice dancing, but a part of me would rather have been doing pair skating with Dean. I was deep in thought about Dean when to my surprise, the boy whom I watched skating so brilliantly was in front of me. My jaw dropped when I realized who it was.

“Hi Jackie. It is nice to see you again.” He grinned at me.

I stammered out, “H-hi Tommy, or should I say Sean.”

“I am so happy to finally get a chance to say thank you to you. And that is from my family too.”

“Why?” This was unexpected.

“My older sister Connie, who is in 8th grade, was one of Josh’s victims. It didn’t take us long to put two and two together when Officer Leitner was chastising me for interfering with his investigations to realize it was you that freed Connie from her foolishness. We were able to destroy all of her photos thanks to you.”

“You are welcome. I am glad I could help.” I was stunned by this revelation. I recovered by saying, “I didn’t know you skated. You are really good!”

Tommy said apologetically, “Sorry, but that was one of the reasons I was snooping. I had seen you here teaching a boy to skate and, well, I got too curious. I didn’t know what you were really doing. Then Wilson came in with some crazy story about you being a cousin from Canada. When I found out the truth, I felt like a complete jerk. Can you forgive me?” He hung his head low.

I was impressed that he had the strength to apologize and take responsibility. “Of course I can, but before Dean shows up, he doesn’t know who I really am or what I really am. While I was measuring him in choir for an outfit, he asked me to a dance. He stutters, so he sang to me. It was really cute.” I couldn’t help but grin. And I think I sounded all girl when I said it too.

Tommy gave me a concerned look. “My Mom felt it would help hide my true identity if I were seen with a boy. So, now we dance and skate. No dating until ninth grade and by that time ...”

“I understand. Before he gets here, how do you want me to play it?” I think Tommy knew there was more to it.

“Well, I am teaching him to skate so we can ice dance for my P.E. credit. It gets me out of the gym. So, I guess the best thing is to just say that I helped make the costumes for your class and you got to know me when I fitted you. He will feel comfortable with that because I made his outfit for choir. So, we only know each other in passing. But, please, don’t make Dean feel like you are interested in me. I mean, well.”

“I get it. But, at some point, they want us to work together. We will have to work something out if he sees us together again. In the meantime, I will just stick with my hockey so we don’t bump into each other at the rink. Besides, I learned figure skating to improve my hockey skills.”

“Frankly, you ought to drop the hockey. You really aren’t a bad figure skater. I was watching you.”

“That is what my figure coach says. But, she doesn’t understand the thrill of a hat trick or the joy of a good body check. Popping someone into the glass is so much fun. Try doing that to your pairs partner.” Tommy grinned ear to ear and chortled. I hadn’t seen his humorous side yet. I had this vision of Tommy throwing his pairs partner into the glass. I held my hands up to my face and giggled at the thought.

“Speaking of which, you ought to drop being a boy. You really aren’t a bad looking girl.” He snickered.

I blushed and laughed. “Well, for the moment ...” I looked over and Dean was walking towards us with his skates hung over his shoulder. He looked so handsome in his ballroom outfit. More and more lately, I felt something stirring in me whenever he was around. “H-hi Jackie.”

“Hey Dean!” I said with glee smiling ear to ear. “Oh, I would like you to meet Tommy. He was one of the guys I made an outfit for from Canterbury Middle School last year. I just found out he is a fantastic figure skater when he isn’t disguised as a hockey player.” I scrunched my nose at Tommy and then reached around Dean’s waste to hug and reassure him I was still his.

Thankfully, Tommy remembered his place. “So, she made an outfit for you too? She did a great job on my costume for drama. But, I wasn’t as smart as you. I never thought to ask her to skate. I think I will ask my girl friend Darlene if she would like to skate with me. I haven’t shown her this side of me yet. Isn’t that how you asked her to dance?” But, damn, he got me anyway again.

Dean smiled at the complement. “Y-yes. T-that w-was easy to ask h-her. J-Jackie is r-really sweet and p-pretty.” I blushed.

Tommy said his goodbyes and I could tell that Dean wasn’t jealous. He might have been at first, but I think we handled it well. My only worry was Darlene was someone I knew. I would need to get word to Tommy. But, I think he already knew. He winked at me when he said Darlene.

Later in the day, I put a poster on the dinning room table and started to cut out the parts of my butterfly and glued it to the poster. Soon, I had built a Monarch butterfly on the poster. I then picked up a pen. I started to write down on the wings various occupations that I could do when I grow up.

Mom walked in and watched what I was doing. “What are you up to, honey?”

“Dr. Cramer recommended that I do this and put it up in my room where I could look at it each day. She says I need to keep my eyes on the prize to keep my focus on what is going to happen after Samantha finishes her work.”

“What an interesting idea. Why?”

“Because it is part of my growing up and maturing. She thinks focusing on an adult career will help me develop even better coping skills and become more stable. It turns out that I have already been learning a lot of the coping mechanisms for avoiding having problems with all the trauma I am dealing with. I have music and acting. I have been opening up to you and Dad about how I feel.”

“Has she making any other recommendations?”

I smoothed out my skirt, sat down, crossed my legs, and put my hands in my lap. My Mom sat down too. “Well, it is an odd one. But she wants me to spend time with the boys in my life and bond with them, learn about them, and discover what they enjoy and like to do.”

“As a girl or as a boy?”

“Whatever I like. She says that it is more important that I learn about the men in my life than who I go as. Although, she says as a girl, I might learn more since boys like to show off versus a boy where I would be potential competition. Apparently, I have done a great job of learning about the women in my life. It is time to include men too she says.”

“I like that reasoning. That is excellent advice. How do you want to do it?”

“Well, I just spent time with Grandpa at Shiloh. Next, I am going to spend time with Dean watching something called Royal Rumble, whatever that is. It is some sort of Pay-per-View event in a week. I want to walk with Grandpa during the week to build my stamina for the singing competition and spend even more time with him. And I would like to see your brother too, uncle Robert. He left before Grandpa died and I miss him too. I would like to go see Robert in Colorado and spend time with him. With my being off for a month, this would be a great time to do it if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, my that is a lot of traveling and very ambitious. I am not sure I could approve of it all or if it is in the budget. But, most of it can be done. I will talk to your dad and see what we can do. Okay?”

“Thank you Mom. You are the best.” I got up and we hugged. I took the poster up to my room and put it on my wall. I stood back and looked at it. I spied the professions of gynecologist, obstetrician, and pediatrician. I put them in what I perceived was the heart of the butterfly. That was my prize. I just knew it.

I walked into my session with Erin with a spring in my step. She was doing me so much good.

“Samantha, I have had time to talk to your parents and get to know them. I want to talk about a dark moment in your past to illustrate how far you have come. Do you mind talking about it?”

“No, I guess. But I can’t think of what it might be since I think we have talked about everything.” I sat down and began to pour our customary tea. I loved our tea parties. It was my favorite part of our sessions.

“Do you remember the time you hid out in your backyard because the teacher picked on you? Tell me about it.” She took her cup of tea and had a sip. She smiled because I made it exactly how she liked. With a couple of drops of cream and a touch of sugar.

I sat back into my seat. “Oh, yeah. That time.” I had forgotten about it until she brought it up. I took a sip of my tea and collected my thoughts. I put my cup down and put my hands in my lap.

“It was not long after Grandpa Zimmer died. I thought I was in big trouble for not knowing the difference between AM and PM. I would call morning PM and afternoon AM. It was silly really. But, Mrs. Denison got so mad at me that she said that if I didn’t learn them by the next day, I would need to find a new school. I took her seriously and didn’t understand until recently that she was just frustrated with me. I was so very scared thinking she really meant it. I talked to Mom and Dad that night about what schools I could go to instead. They missed what I was really talking about but I think they heard the fear in my voice.”

I took another sip of tea and continued. “So, the next morning, I pretended to go to school and then slipped into the backyard and hid in a bush. Little did I know that they called my parents. Somehow, they figured out why I was scared and hid. Once they found me later that day, nothing was said. It was never brought up again.”

“Sadly, it should have been Samantha. Your reaction showed danger signs that the adults should have noticed and acted on. You see, your teacher confessed she scared you right away when she talked to your parents about what may have happened to you because they didn’t know where you where. As did the principal who was in the room too. It was handled among the adults and they never apologized to you. They figured by not mentioning it and not punishing you for it, the trauma you felt would go away on its own. And they reasoned it away because you should never be apologized to for doing something wrong like hiding from them. They pretended nothing happened when it actually did.”

“That would have been nice to hear. I think you are right. I just went deeper into a hole at that time.”

“Yes, it is important for adults to admit to you they make mistakes and that they aren’t perfect. It was a good thing that Doug pulled you out of it. I think as a kid himself, he understood that you didn’t trust adults for a reason. Bless his heart. He could see you were hard for an adult to reach because you felt betrayed, but felt it was easy for a kid to reach you.”

“I know. I am so grateful he came into my life. He has taught me so much. He is unselfish and kind. I really couldn’t love my unofficial brother any more than I do.”

She smiled and patted me on the knee. “Now, four years later, how do you handle your feelings? You talk to your parents. You talk to Doug. You talk to me. You do sewing, cooking, acting, babysitting, and more. I want you to think about how you reached Yvonne and Vicki. I have heard both tapes. They are amazing examples of how much you have grown. They show a girl who uses her empathy to reach others. Your pain has become an instinct for helping others.”

I smiled and said, “Do you really think so?”

“Yes, you are really blossoming, Samantha.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to hear that from you.”

“Now, enough of all this mushy stuff.” She feigned disgust and I giggled.

“What about your project for getting to know the men around you?”

“Well, to build my stamina for ice dancing and for choir, Mom and Grandpa have hit on a scheme to have me walk to school every morning. Mom will drop us off a half mile from school and Grandpa and I walk to school. Each week, we will build up. The goal is to have me walk two miles a day in the morning with him to school at least three days a week. Then, Grandma will pick up Grandpa.”

Erin grinned. “That is an excellent plan, Samantha. I think it will do you a world of good.”

“And Mom is going to arrange and see if I can see my uncle Robert and my brother Robert. Plus, I am going to learn about Doug and my Dad too.”

“Excellent. There is someone you are forgetting.”

“Who?”

“Bill. He has become part of your life too.”

After the session, I continued to work on the project starting with Doug.

“All right Doug, what do you like to do?” I grinned.

“Help you, duh!”

I hit him with a pillow. “Not fair, you aren’t getting into the spirit of this.”

“Oh there is a spirit? Maybe we should call an exorcist instead of psychiatrist?”

“Goof. If I didn’t love you so much, I would just walk away.” I giggled.

“Thanks Sis. But, we already know so much about each other. At least, I think we do.”

“Tell me your favorite thing to do when I am not around.” I leaned back on the couch and pulled up my legs.

“Oh, I don’t know. I really like to read medical journals, do puzzles, or just think about things. Like about people I care about and what I can do to help. I found lately I am dwelling on what it is going to be like to go to Harvard and not be close to family or friends. I guess I want to learn how to make friends. That worries me. How is a fifteen year old kid going to fit in there.”

“Funny, I never thought about you worrying about something. At the accident scene and for the birth of the baby, you were so confident and sure, I never got scared. I knew everything was going to be fine. Do you get scared?”

“Yes, I do. I sometimes worry that I will wake up one day and you all will be gone and I will be miserable and alone again.”

I re-positioned myself on the couch getting closer to him and held his hand. “I sometimes worry that one day I will wake up and you won’t be there either and lost too. And so, what would you like to do that you haven’t done yet?”

Doug smiled and hugged me. “I can’t wait to drive. I am not far from getting a learner’s permit. I guess I would like to drive Mary to dinner and a movie or a dance first.” He smiled thoughtfully.

“Oh, that sounds so nice. I envy Mary. She has a romantic boyfriend. So, before I met you, did you play with toy cars and pretend to drive them?”

“Oh man, I had this one toy car. I didn’t care that it was really for Ken and Barbie. I would run it all over the house. I would make car noises and pretend I was going a hundred miles per hour. I loved that toy car.” Doug was smiling remembering his toy and I could tell it was a pleasant memory.

“What else don’t you know?” he said. “I loved to create Rube Goldberg machines in the house. I would create these intricate machines that would just turn on the television. Mom and Dad would laugh. And then, I loved watching Zoro on television. I wanted to use a sword and fight bad guys leaving a torn zed on their clothing. I would ride off with a mask, a cape, and all in black to fight bad guys all the while standing on my bed.”

“And then, you came to my rescue and used me as a Rube Goldberg machine at the same time. Thank you.” I grinned.

Doug smiled too, he knew what I was really saying. He changed the subject. “How about this Royal Rumble? We could watch it at your place. You have a projection set where I know that Dean doesn’t. Then, I could watch too.”

“You mean you like pro wrestling?!” I was flabbergasted.

“Yeah, I do. Sometimes after I leave here, I go home and watch it on late night. It is so stupid and funny. I guess I should come out of the closet. It is fun. The plots and prat falls are so hilarious.”

“Okay then. I will see what I can do.”

I made the arrangements with Dad, whom I found also liked pro wrestling, and soon found myself with Dean, Dad, and Doug as they began watching men misbehave and act like drama kings after they all shouted in unison the official prayer as the show started – ‘Are you ready to Rumble!’

“Clothesline! Give him a clothesline!” shouted Doug during the first match between this guy named Vader and Gold Dust.

“Y-yea!” said Dean. Dad just nodded.

“Have any of you guys even used a real clothesline?” I asked somewhat incredulous that they were really getting into the whole fake thing.

They just looked at me like I was from another planet. Dean said, “G-girls!”

It seemed cartoonish to me. I began to see them laugh and shout over the matches. I remembered. I was here to bond. So, I sat back and watched. So much of it I could tell was fake. But, I also contemplated if it was the humor that they found in the matches that was what caused them to enjoy watching. They could laugh over the ridiculous costumes and antics of the various wrestlers. The false concern over some wrestler named Stone Cold Steve Austin

And then I found myself enjoying watching the first match end when this lady runs up and jumps on Vader’s back and then he jumps off of the ropes with her on his back and pins his opponent to win the match.

The guys were shouting and hollering. They high fived each other too. And there was a part of me that understood their pleasure. It was funny. I looked over at my mother standing in the door jam watching us. She just shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. I looked at her and shook my shoulders.

I got up and went to the kitchen to prepare some snacks, sandwiches, and drinks for the guys. Grandpa came in and asked if he was too late. He went in to join them. It was just me, Mom, and Grandma.

“So, you are supposed to figure out what they see in that, huh?” Mom said.

“Yup. Thus far, it is the strangest soap opera I have ever seen.”

Grandma laughed. “Go get them tiger. You can do it. Rah Rah!”

I picked up the tray of food, looked back at them, rolled my eyes, and said, “If I am not back in an hour. Call 911.”

I took out the platter of food and the guys didn’t even say thank you.

I tried to sound interested. “So who is the The Rock?” They ignored me and kept watching. I wondered if they even heard my question.

Finally, someone said something. “The intercontinental champion.” said Doug.

“What does that mean?” I was ignored again. I think they didn’t know either. This bonding wasn’t going as planned.

“How quaint. The Rock is going against Kid ShamROCK.” I said sarcastically thinking they would appreciate my observation.

They just glared at me like I was an alien and went back to watching the match.

At the end of the match, Kid Shamrock won, but was disqualified because ‘The Rock’ had stuffed brass-knuckles in Kid’s shorts. I was seriously confused. If the cameras could see it, then why did someone tell the refs. I guess I was thinking too rationally. The guys didn’t even question it.

“You know, I think ‘The Rock’ will never amount to anything. Maybe he should go into acting since he does put on a good performance.”

Grandpa looked at me and winked. “Not as good as yours cutie pie.”

I didn’t know whether to blush or throw a drink in his face. I went back into the kitchen and sat down. I looked at my mom. “This isn’t working. They all are loving it and I am just not getting it.

Mom put her hand on mine. “Because you are trying to think. It is about emotion, not thinking. You complained that Robert worked out his anger on the football field, right?”

“Yeah.” Not my own words! Please Mom, not my own words!

“Well, this is how boys work out their emotions too. Boys need to process emotions in a way that works for them. For them, something like pro-wrestling gives them a chance to release their emotions in a controlled way. Go back in there and instead of watching the wrestling, watch how they deal with their emotions.”

“You mean like the last match where the winner was disqualified because the other guy cheated.”

“Yes. Honey, being a guy for most men means you hold your emotions in. Boys get good at that. When your Dad comes home, he doesn’t want to talk about work. So, I have to wait until he wrestles to make sense of the day before he can talk to me about his day. Sports and wrestling give them a chance to work out their feelings. So, go back in there not with the mindset that you need to understand how stupid the wresting is, but how much it allows them to express an emotion they have felt before but never had a chance to vocalize or express in real life because when it happened to them in real life, they had to man up and accept it like a man.”

I thought about what she said and went back into the chamber of horrors.

“Hey look. Someone from Nashville won Cold Stone Steve Austin’s truck.” said Dad.

I spent the rest of the matches watching the guys enjoy the wrestling matches. I began to see what Mom was talking about. The guys were having a good time enjoying the sub plots and the stupid silly intrigues of the show. It simple enough for them to understand. It was far from subtle by any stretch of the imagination. Not like the subtle plots of books I liked. Oh where did I put ‘Green Mansions?’

A few days later, Mom and Dad surprised me with plane tickets for us to travel to Boston on an early morning flight and catch a direct shuttle to Springfield on a Peter Pan Shuttle where my uncle would meet us and drive us up to Bernardston. Mom really wanted to see her brother again. It had been ages for all of us to see him and his young family.

Uncle Robert was a kind man as I last remember with a great ability to imitate voices he had heard in cartoons. He was a history professor at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. He taught American and European history. He married my aunt Sandra when I was about five and in first grade. I was too old to be a flower boy, but I was included in their wedding ceremony as a ring bearer.

Aunt Sandra was an accountant and worked for the university administration. They had their two children taken care of by day care at nearby the university for a few years. Their youngest boy, Tristan, was four. I had only seen pictures of him. Their little girl, Evelyn, was seven and was in second grade. I last saw her at the funeral of my grandfather running around. I helped take care of her.

Neither of my cousins had ever seen me as a girl, or a boy for that matter. So, the big debate was should I go as a boy or a girl. In the end, I found myself making some boy clothes real fast. Of course, the main reason was that it was full blown winter in New England and that made it easy for me to dress as a boy because I could borrow coats and jackets they had arranged to have for me to use. They didn’t know about my girlhood.

I would fly in as a girl, but get quickly changed into boy clothes as soon as I landed in Boston. I still had girl outfits in my suitcase, but it was weekend trip, so it would be easy to have both sets of clothes with me.

It would be the first time in over four months that I was a boy again and I was frightened. I didn’t know how to act anymore as a boy, but I played along with my folks. I knew that in order to make it all work, I would have to make a sacrifice in order to keep family unity.

I felt awkward and tried not to show it. I was standing inside the bus station with my folks waiting for my uncle to show up watching our luggage. I had my hair in a ponytail. I was most certainly in baggy boys clothes. So, I guess my stance with my standing on one foot and my other foot tucked in behind the foot I was standing on must have been female or maybe it was the Nancy Drew book I was reading so intently that threw my aunt. Because, while standing there, she appeared before me and said, “Excuse me miss, has the bus from Logan airport arrived yet?”

I looked up and saw who it was and replied, “Aunt Sandra, it is so good to see you! Mom and Dad are using the restrooms. Thank you for having us on such short notice.” I threw my arms around her and hugged her. It took a second, but she hugged me back.

“Sam, is that you? My, how you have grown. I’m sorry to call you miss, you just looked like … well, never mind. Your uncle had to do some last minute grading at the school and sent me to pick you all up.”

We arrived at their nice two story house and they put us up in their two guest rooms in their recently finished basement. I was surprised to not have to share a room. We would fly back Monday, so I had two good days with the cousins and my uncle.

Tristan, who was four and all boy. And Evelyn, who was seven, and all girl. Evelyn and I got along immediately. She was playing with her dolls when she said she wanted to do her make up. I said I could help.

“But you are a boy. Boys don’t know how to do make up, do they?”

“You would be surprised. Show me what you have.”

I stayed calm, but I was about to fall on the floor laughing. Evelyn had the same kit I had used with Cybil and Mary. I opened up the kit and I began to teach her how to make herself up. My aunt Sandra came in to watch me work with Evelyn. I was showing her how to polish her nails and take care of her cuticles.

“Where did you learn to do all that Sam?”

“My friend Mary taught me and Cybil last summer during summer school.”

“Oh yes, doing a Shakespeare play wasn’t it? Your Dad sent us a nice picture of you as Beatrice and said that you helped a little girl who died of cancer. I must say, you did make a fetching girl. Even dressed as you are now, you almost make a beautiful young lady. I guess that is why I mistook you for a girl at the station. Sorry about that.”

I tried, but I couldn’t help but blush. “Thanks Aunt Sandra. I think.” I added the last comment for effect. I didn’t want to say that I was actually thrilled to be seen as a girl.

“Cousin Sam, can we play dress up?” At this point, it was obvious Evelyn didn’t care if I was a ‘boy,’ and she wanted to do girl stuff with me.

“No, not right now. For one thing, you don’t have any clothes that fit me. And for another, I think my mom and dad would be uncomfortable with it. They want us to spend time with your Dad.”

“But you would be okay with that?” asked Aunt Sandra who was puzzled by my response.

I was caught. How do I get myself out of this one. I was beginning to realize that I was so feminine now that Sam, the boy, was getting real hard to see even when dressed as a boy.

“After all I played a girl …” Just then, a small boy shrieked because he had fallen and hit is head on the corner of his bed. She rushed to check him out leaving me with Evelyn. I couldn’t tell her I had girl clothes in my suitcase. Not yet.

Evelyn looked at me. “You played a girl?” I resisted saying I still do.

“Oh, yes Evelyn. I did.” I called out to my aunt, “Is everything okay in there?”

“Yes, he didn’t hit his head very hard at all. I think he just scared himself, that’s all. I am putting him back down for his nap.”

“Cousin Sam, how can you play a girl without being a girl?” Evelyn sounded curious about what I said.

“Do you have a Barbie and Ken doll Evelyn? Good, can you bring them to me. Thanks. Here, you hold Barbie and I will hold Ken.”

I said, “Hi Barbie, I’m Ken.”

Evelyn said, “Hi Ken, I’m Barbie.”

“Okay, did you play Barbie, a girl?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s switch.”

I said, “Hi Ken, I’m Barbie.”

“Hi Barbie, I’m Ken.” Evelyn said her line and giggled.

“Now, did I just play a girl?”

“Yes.”

“Did you just play a boy.”

“Yes, dummy.” I smiled at the insult.

“Playing a girl and being a girl are two different things. You just played a boy, but you are still a girl.”

“I see. So you played a girl just like with a doll.”

“The idea is similar. Now, here is a question for you. Close your eyes. Now, as I am speaking, do I sound like a girl or a boy?”

“Boy. No, wait. You really do sound like a girl. Why is that?”

“Keep your eyes closed. Really listen and tell me whether I sound like my Dad or my Mom.”

“Much more like your Mom. Did you just change your voice?” she said.

“You can open your eyes now. Yes, I did change my voice. Why I sound like a girl and like my Mom has something to do with a word called prosody. In this case, it means that when a girl speaks she speaks in a kind of natural song while boys don’t sing and their words are distinct. I learned to speak like that in Shakespeare class.”

This actually turned out to be one of the reasons Doug had me learn French. It was to disguise my learning to speak like a girl. The French language uses a little of prosody with words ending in ‘s’ going into a vowel. The first one I learned was the phrase ‘Allons-y.” The ‘s’ becomes a zed pronounced as an American ‘z’, thus sounding close to ‘a lone zee’ instead of sounding like ‘a lone e.’ The joining of the ‘s’ to the ‘y’ involves the use of prosody.

I went on to further explain why I passed for female. “Now look at my face. Do you see a beard or a mustache?”

“No, your skin looks soft and like …. like a girl.”

“How about my arms?”

“They are soft and more like a girl.”

“Now, when I played a girl in school, it was easy. Almost all boys and girls your age and younger look and sound the same. So, it is easy for a boy to play a girl. For some boys like me, this thing called puberty happens later and we can play girls longer than other boys. In Shakespeare’s day, they used that to allow boys to play girls and women until their voice cracked. In those days, girls and women weren’t allowed to act. It wasn’t until the late 1800s that women were allowed to act.”

Aunt Sandra said, “I think I heard that you kept playing a girl after summer school. Is that true?”

“Why, Sam, I would like to know too?” Evelyn looked very confused.

“Well, Evelyn, I like babies. No, I love babies. I want to be a baby doctor so much that I can taste it. And, the mother next door to us that lets me take care of her three babies first is of the belief that only girls can take care of babies. And, your aunt and uncle, my Mom and Dad, think that was unfair. And she thought I was a girl. So, they let me play a girl so that I can learn a whole bunch about how babies are cared for. I am learning how to help one of them walk right now. I feed them. I change them. I bath them. I cook and clean for them. I am having a world of experience that I could never have had unless my Mom and Dad let me play a girl. And I will keep playing a girl for as long as I can until I learn so much about taking care of children and what it is like for them that I feel I can stop and move on. I could never learn that at doctor school. I would simply tell the mother or dad what to do and not know what I was really asking of her. Now, I will know what I am asking them to do when I am a baby doctor.”

I didn’t know it. But my Aunt, Mom and Dad were standing there listening to my explanation.

“Son,” Dad said, “I didn’t realize that you wanted to be a baby doctor.”

“You didn’t hear that, Dad?”

“No.”

“It’s what I told Cybil the day I gave her the wig. I thought you overheard our conversation about my becoming a doctor and why I couldn’t get pregnant.”

“No son, I was talking to Mr. Allen about who I thought was going to be in the World Series. He hadn’t been able to watch much baseball obviously.”

I looked at Evelyn, shook my head, and said, “Boys! What are you going to do with them? They never listen, do they?” She giggled. So did my Mom and Aunt Sandra.

Mom said, “Well, Stud Muffin, he is right. He did talk to her about it. You totally missed it.” She pinched my Dad.

“Ow! I’m sorry son. I should have figured out why you were willing to be Samantha. I just thought you were grieving Cybil’s loss.”

“I was Dad. I am still grieving her loss. But, I am also honoring her memory by using the gift she gave me, of passing as a girl, to learn about children. She wanted me to be a good doctor. It was a part of her wish for me that I can’t just ignore.” A few tears ran down my face. “And I am sorry Dad, playing first base doesn’t help you learn how to help a baby girl avoid a yeast infection when changing her or how to handle diaper rash.”

“So that is why Doug said not to worry about it at the end of summer. He said that you were very empathetic and to give you time to explore. I am glad we did.”

“Thank you, Dad, for letting me explore. Looks like I owe another one to Doug.”

“So, you are okay with playing Samantha, a girl, and not embarrassed?” Evelyn said.

“Oh yes, not embarrassed at all!”

“Can we be girlfriends then?” She smiled and giggled.

I undid my pony tail and shook out my hair and combed it out with my fingers.

“What do you think?” with a big grin on my face.

“C’mon Samantha, let’s go play some more!”

My uncle came in later to join us for high pretend tea. He sat crossed legged while I poured pretend tea into his cup. I showed him my pink nails and commented on what a lovely job Evelyn did. Evelyn giggled. She got up ever so elegantly and said that she had to go the powder room and may be a bit.

While we waited for her to come back, I had a chance to talk to my uncle.

I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and said, “Do you do pretend tea with her often, uncle?”

“Oh yes, I really enjoy doing this with her. Which is ironic, since I never did it with your mother when we were younger. I was too much into boy stuff to spend time with my older sister doing girl stuff. I was a bit of a brat to your mother, frankly. I loved baseball and baseball cards. I can still quote stats from all my favorite players. From Babe Ruth to Willie Mays. And Fenway has to be my favorite baseball park in the whole wide world. I love going to games there. I was in heaven when I got the job here.”

“Do you take Evelyn to games?”

“I have tried. She isn’t interested. But, I am hopeful she will.”

“Do you think she would if I came along?”

“That would be nice. But, how would you convince her?”

“Well, I guess I could go dressed as Samantha. I bet she would love to go then.”

“Oh no, I just wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“It wouldn’t be any inconvenience. In fact, I could come back this summer and we could all go. I could make special outfits that would be girly and celebrate baseball. Maybe pin striped skirts. That could break the ice. Please, uncle Robert, let me do this for you two.”

Mom was standing in the doorway with Sandra. “Yes, Robert, let her do it. I think it is a great idea. Even if she just makes a dress for Evelyn.”

Uncle Robert seemed very confused. “Umm, Pam, why did you say ‘she’ and ‘her?’”

Mom, motioned aunt Sandra to go into the room and she closed the door. “I have to come clean with you guys. Sam is helping the police with uncover investigations. So, until the end of this year, Sam is a girl at school and all the time at home. She, I mean he, is dressed as a girl 24/7. Sam is only dressed as the boy he is right now because we didn’t know how to tell you.”

Uncle Robert turned and looked at me. He was clearly having trouble understanding what he had heard. Aunt Sandra giggled. I think she suspected.

“Yes, uncle Robert. I have helped the police expose several child porn operations. It was Daddy’s idea that if they found out from lawyers that I was a boy, they would never look for me as a girl.”

He thought for a moment. Looked back at my Mom who just nodded and smiled. He turned back to me. “You mean, you could dress as a girl right now and no one would know the difference.”

“Not even you uncle. Aunt Sandra said it herself, that even in boy clothing, I still make a fetching girl. And, she did mistake me for a girl at the bus station.” Aunt Sandra nodded.

“Wow, I would really like to see that sometime.” he said.

“In fact, Robert, when Sam leaves late Sunday night, she will board the plane to Nashville dressed as a girl. Because of her cover, she can’t even be seen as a boy on any databases like a flight manifest. It is part of our agreement with the state in order to guarantee her cover is kept.”

“Is this putting Sam in danger to be dressed as a boy right now?” asked aunt Sandra.

Mom came out with the truth. “We lied to the authorities about Sam coming here. They were told she was coming as a she. And, since she had to dress warmly in the girls room at the airport, no one saw Sam dressed as a boy on the shuttle coming to Springfield.”

“But, since it will be dry and in the low forties on Sunday night, Sam could be discovered?” said a worried Aunt Sandra.

Mom sighed. “Yes. It is a possibility.”

Aunt Sandra looked at me and then my Mom. “Is she in real danger?”

“We don’t think so. But, Bill, our handler is very concerned that we stick to protocol for Sam’s sake.”

“Sam, do you have girl’s clothes with you?” Aunt Sandra asked.

“Yes. I do.”

Uncle Robert looked at aunt Sandra as he thought about what he just heard. His protective side trumped his gender order. “Sam, would you please go become Samantha. I will do the explaining to the kids. Okay.”

“Yes sir.” I got up and left the adults to talk about it. I ran downstairs to my guest room feeling giddy at the turn of events. I couldn’t wait to get out of my boy clothes. I put on wool clothes we had picked up at the consignment store. I had a nice grey wool pleated skirt and a pretty peach silk blouse. I put on a nice cardigan that matched the grey of my skirt. I had some Mary Jane wedge style shoes which I put on. It was nice to have panties on again. I used my old gaff to hide my penis. I put on some really nice flesh tone stockings. I combed out my head and put a black headband on. I put on some cute ear rings. I adjusted my silver heart necklace and put my hands through a couple of bracelets and headed upstairs. I looked more like a girl in a school uniform than anything else which is the look we were going for when we bought them. Then I grabbed my purse, checked it, and slung it over my shoulder.

I came back upstairs to find just uncle Robert sitting with Evelyn. I knocked on the open door. “Evelyn, can Samantha join you?”

Uncle Robert and Evelyn looked at me with amazement. “Sam, you are so pretty! Is that really you?” said Evelyn.

“Thank you Evelyn. Please call me Samantha. You are very kind for saying so.” I twirled around to show her my outfit.

Uncle Robert spoke up, “Well I think we should do something special. Why don’t I take my little girl and my cute niece out to a real tea house?”

“Oh yes, Daddy, can we?”

So, my uncle took just us girls to a little English tea house in the village called The Cotswold Primrose where we had high tea. We enjoyed tea, sandwiches, scones, and crumpets. It was a wonderful treat to spend time with my uncle and cousin. I love scones and I found out that I loved Irish clotted cream and jam too with them too. Yum! I also learned that my uncle loved his daughter very much and wanted to find a way to share with him his love of baseball. I was looking forward to coming in the summer to help my uncle’s dream come true. And, maybe go up to St. Jean-sur-Richleau to spend time with Yvonne.

We returned late Monday night and I was a bit out of it on Monday, but no one noticed. It helped that I slept on the plane. Grandpa taught me some techniques he used for falling asleep and I found they worked. Of course, being snuggled between my Dad and Mom in the middle seat really helped.

January turned into February and Erin approved me to start up again in March. Dean asked me to go to the Valentine’s Day dance. I liked that Valentine’s Day was on Saturday too. Dad chaperoned us since Mom had to work that dance too. That let Mr. and Mrs. Pilsner have a Valentine’s day dinner, movie, and evening to themselves. Jane agreed to fly with me the next weekend to see Robert and let Mom and Dad have a romantic weekend.

I must admit, I did have butterflies for this dance. I secretly was enjoying ice dancing with Dean just as much as I did with ballroom dancing. He was beginning to get his ice legs and balance. I knew he would. Doug and Mary were coming with us. We arrived in a van which made it all the nicer. Mary and Doug sat in the far back. Dean opened the door for me and was ever the gentleman.

Like last time, we danced the night away. Except this time, Mr. Thompson didn’t do a special last song in French. He got around it though. Dean told me that the last dance belonged to my Dad. I smiled. Mr. Thompson put on Roger and Hammerstein’s ‘Shall We Dance.’ The waltz with my dad was even better than before. And like the dance in October, when I twirled out and looked at him, there were applause. I hugged him and Dean.

As we were walking out, Dad had to go get the car. Dean stood there like a perfect gentleman looking so very handsome. On impulse, I seized my chance. I pulled him in to the alcove next to us where no one could see us, looked at up at him, put my arms around his neck, and kissed him on the lips and hugged him. He melted as did I in our embrace. I wanted to do more than that, but I gently pushed back and said, “Just making sure you know that ninth grade is worth waiting for Dean. Plus, it is Valentine’s Day. I had to do something special for the man of my dreams.” I blushed and giggled. He just grinned and showed off my lipstick. Oh dear, I had left lipstick on him. I quickly pulled a kleenex from my purse and cleaned him up.

Dean smiled at me as we dropped him off. “S-see y-you during c-choir.” I winked at him and when my dad wasn’t looking, blew him a kiss. I sat back in the car and realized, I had done something impulsively that I could regret. I hadn’t thought about how I could hurt him if he found out I was a boy. I went home and feigned being happy. I went up stairs and cried in my pillow. I needed to tell Doug.

The next day, Doug and I went for a long walk. “I didn’t think Doug. All I wanted was to do something romantic on Valentine’s Day. I didn’t think about Dean. I thought only of myself.”

Doug smiled and patted me on the back. “It’s okay. No real harm done. If the truth comes out, you will just tell Dean you were playing a part. But, it is clear that the hormones are kicking in. You are going to have to watch the impulse control. Especially after your transition.”

“Why?” I wondered.

“Because, unlike most girls, there will be no consequences regarding sex. You can’t get pregnant. If you don’t work on that control, in High School, you could become the go to girl for losing one’s virginity because no one needs to worry about getting you pregnant. And that is not the only complication.”

“What other complication could there be?”

“After you have surgery, you will have to use what is called a dildo to keep your vagina open for sex. That will cause some simulation and inevitably, you will want to masturbate. That will increase your desire to have sex. This may be one consideration you might have for waiting until your eighteen to have surgery.”

“I hadn’t even really thought of that.”

“In fact, I am going to recommend that you remain a virgin until marriage. That way, you learn to control your sexuality.”

We walked a couple of blocks not saying anything. “Doug. Thank you for being my friend and telling me the truth. This is something I really couldn’t discuss with Dr. Cramer. But, I know her advice would be the same as yours.”

“Well, I only steal from the best. The important thing for you to know, Samantha, is that by telling me what happened right away, you have taken the first step to self-control.”

“Will it be a problem in the fall?”

“I don’t think so. The hormones are rewiring you right now. By summer, I can tell if it will be a problem. But, it may mean that you have to end your relationship with Dean from the time I leave until you transition. Or maybe Mary can take over. My guess is that you can just simply say that it is frustrating you not to be able to date him and that you will wait for him in ninth grade. I think if he hears that you don’t have a boy friend, it will go over better.”

“Okay. But, be sure to stay with me and keep an eye on me.”

“Agreed.”

And then it hit me. “Um, Dean?”

“Yes.”

“Have you done it yet with Mary?”

Doug blushed. “No, not yet. We have kissed and, well, really enjoyed it. But, we aren’t in a rush. I guess we could use a chaperon too.”

“What if we both take a pledge to wait and then tell Mary and Dean.”

“Darn it, Samantha. Do you have to come up with such good ideas?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because stats show that waiting improves the odds of building a solid marriage when both wait. I think you will find your Dad and your Mom waited. As did mine.”

“Does this mean you might marry Mary one day?”

Doug blushed and looked down with a huge grin on his face.

“Thanks Doug. I knew you were a romantic and good for Mary. I think you would make a great husband and wife.” He looked at me and tried to say something. The only thing that came out was a tear and a smile. I hugged him and we went in to get some lunch and talk about other stuff that was happening. It was the first real chance I had in months to have one of our counseling sessions.

Early Saturday morning, before sunrise, Jane walked with me down the jetbridge waiting our turn to board the plane to Denver. She was just as excited to be able to see Robert as I was. Which meant we were both planning to find ways to enjoy the trip without him.

“Well, we can dump him and go shopping, can’t we?” I looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“Sure, pipsqueak. But aren’t you supposed to bond with him?”

“Did you bring the crazy glue?”

“No. Sorry!” She giggled. “Did you bring money?”

“Five-hundred bucks I earned babysitting.” I said proudly.

“Wow! What do you want to buy?”

“Anything warm to get rid of this drab uniform Mom bought me. And, I have outgrown the dress she bought me for Cybil’s funeral.”

“You could let O’Brien buy you something since you know who would pay for it.”

“Not really the same. I want to buy something for myself, with my money, so I can enjoy it. Lately, I have been feeling more and more that I want to develop and explore my own style.”

Jane imitated my mother and said, “As long as it is tasteful young lady!”

“Party pooper!” I giggled and then stuck my tongue out at her.

I hugged her and said, “Thank you, Jane. I love spending time with you.”

“I do too, Pipsqueak.” She kissed my head.

The flight was uneventful and quick because of the time zone change. I expected to see Robert greet us in baggage claim alone. Instead, not only did he greet us, but, he had this cute blonde wearing the jacket I made him for Christmas wearing my creation instead. And, in turn, she was wearing him like a well worn jacket. She was all over him like melted butter on hot toast. Jane and I looked at each other. We didn’t need to say it. There was no way I could bond with Robert this weekend and we were both happy.

Robert’s warm wrap was called Tickles. It was her cheerleading name in high school, but, due to an injury during homecoming in her high school, she was out of the cheerleading business the rest of the year until the fall of her sophomore year when she could try out for the college cheerleading squad. She was about five seven, one hundred and fifteen pounds of perk and pork-ability according to what Jane whisphered into my ear. Her long flowing blond mane came down to the small of her back and her eyes were a lovely shade of hazel. Even her dress and outfit looked like a cheerleading outfit.

The only thing she was missing was pom poms and bobby socks. And she squeaked like a cute little mouse when ever Robert said something funny. Or rather, something she thought was funny. Jane whispered in my ear, “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!” I bit my tongue. I just wanted to curl up on the floor and laugh my fool head off.

We got in Robert’s Pontiac and I was in the back with Tickles. She wanted to get to know me better. Ugh!

“Are you the one who taught Robert how to make those delicious hamburgers? I have to say, he is the only jock I have ever met who can cook. I just love his burgers with french fried onions and a fried egg.” she said in this syrupy voice.

“Thank you. Robert was a very good student. Has he cooked them often?”

“Are you kidding. He cooked burgers on the grill for the football team during the fall season. That is how I met him. He told me as he was leaving the dorms that he was going over to cook the team hamburgers and I just latched on to him to see him at work because I couldn’t believe it. No one ever thought of adding the stuff he does to burgers. Most of the time, they just slap cheese on them. But, he showed up saying his sister taught him to be a gourmet burger cook and he sure showed them a thing or two.”

I looked up at Robert driving us to Fort Collins and I could see he was beaming with pride at what she was saying. I was also pleased to find the time I took to teach him how to cook was used to great advantage. I was amazed that he actually listened to me.

“So, did you really make this jacket for him too?”

I blushed. “Yes, I did.”

“This is so cool. You are such a talented girl. I love it. It is so warm and I can smell his cologne and not his sweat. I have to admit that I love the fact that his clothes are also cleaner than the other football players too. And he keeps his room nice at the dorm. By the way, you will be staying with your sister in a separate dorm room nearby his. It has a bathroom, but no shower. I hope you don’t mind. And unlike his room, it has no kitchenette.”

“No, I can do sponge baths, I guess.”

“Oh, there are shower facilities down the hall. You just won’t have to use a common bathroom which is nice. You will also be on the bottom floor, which means you can open the sliding door and enjoy the grounds. I live on the second floor since it is a coed dorm.”

“What are you studying?” I desperately wanted to change the subject.

“I am a psychology major. I really appreciate Robert’s help. He is tutoring me in Algebra which I need in order to take statistics and get my degree. I don’t know what I would do without him.” She looked out the window and the view of the snow covered mountains. I looked over at my sister who was looking at us. She rolled her eyes.

She said to me in the room as we were settling in that Tickles had Robert by the short hairs. She also said that once Tickles finished with him, she would move on to someone else. I felt sorry for Robert. He didn’t see how he was being used. Of course, what I didn’t see is that he didn’t care. They needed each other now and in the future they might move on to even more shallow relationships.

Still, Robert was growing. There was a part of me that said in his getting dumped by her, his heart might grow more sensitive and the wound of heart break would yield a longing for a deeper relationship. Better that he be dumped than he do the dumping and start a life long desire to have someone who cared more for him that his usefulness to her at the moment.

While Jane settled in, I wandered into the main foyer. I saw a piano and began to test it. It was a little out of tune, but it played well enough for me to use it. I began playing a few tunes and decided to practice my solo. I was singing ‘Chanter’ when a nice attractive brunette looked over at me as she was leaving the building. She stopped and came over to me. She began singing the song with me. I enjoyed our duet. I was stunned with her nice voice and stopped after a few verses.

“Salut, merci de m'avoir accompagnée.” (Hello, thank you for accompanying me)

“De rien. Bon jour. J’m’appelle Juliette. Je viens d’Harfleur, en Normandie. Etes-vous Francaise?” (You are welcome. Hello, my name is Juliette. I come from Harfleur, in Normandy. Are you French?)

“Ravi de faire votre connasaince, Juliette. Mon prenom est Samantha. Non, je suis Americane. Parlez-vous Anglais?” ( a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Juliette. My name is Samantha. I am American. Do you speak English?) I put out my hand and we shook hands.

“Yes, I do. But, you speak French very well.”

“Merci. I come from Tennessee. I am here with my sister visiting my brother.”

“I see you like the music of Florent Pagney too.”

“Yes, I am using his song for a choir solo in April. I really like his song. Are you an exchange student?”

“Well, yes and no. I am here studying civil engineering as a foreign student. But I am here for four years. I was headed over to help build a boat out of concrete.”

“Concrete?! Sans blague!” (your joking!)

“Yes, no joke, there is a competition between the engineering schools on who can build the fastest and best boat out of concrete. And I want us to win this year. The school won the competition back in 1992.”

We were chatting away for about fifteen minutes when Jane came out with Robert and joined us. “Voici ma soeur Jane et mon frere Robert, Juliette.”

“A pleasure to meet you Jane and Robert. You have a cute little sister here. She speaks French very well. I have seen you around here Robert. You are student also, non?” I noticed how she looked at Robert. It was more than a casual look.

“Yes. Yes I am. I am a business major.” I could tell Robert was interested.

“Well, I do have to run. I am so sorry. Maybe I will see you all again.” She shook all our hands and gave me and Jane a French ‘bise’ on both our cheeks. This was not lost on Robert.

As she left, I looked up at Robert as I got up from the piano bench, “She seems very nice and sweet, Robert. Too bad you are dating Tickles. She sounded like she might be interested in you.”

“You think?” Robert watched her shapely figure go out the door. Jane looked at me with a smirk. I winked at her. Then we starting walking to his car. He was faster and he was few meters in front of us when Jane leaned down and whispered in my ear. “You sneak! Good job.” She had a big smile on her face.

Tickles met up with us in old town. I learned that Fort Collins was the inspiration for main street Disneyland. I had to admit, it was a beautiful town. We assembled in front of a nice restaurant. “Okay, since I am the cause of this trip Robert, lunch is on me. No argument. Mom and Dad gave me the money, so you can relax. They are really paying for it. But they want me to learn what it is like to pay for a meal.”

We sat down and were doing the standard dance every one does in an unfamiliar restaurant. We were looking over the menu and deciding what to eat. I noticed a man talking to another at a table about two tables away. He looked familiar. After a moment, I quickly chose something, told the rest of the gang, and I decided to get up to go to the bathroom which would lead me past him. I looked at him and smiled as I passed. He smiled back. I saw a tattoo on his arm which confirmed my suspicion. Being so young, he didn’t suspect me at all.

I went into the back of the restaurant and saw a pay phone. I picked it up and dialed zero. “Hello, I would like to make a collect phone call to 314-555-3856. My name, Samantha Miller. I would like to talk to Debbie. Yes, I will wait. Hello Debbie. Samantha here. I am in Fort Collins, Old Town. Quick. The man whose BOLO you had in your briefcase when I last saw you is in the restaurant I am eating at. Jeremy Bolton I think his name was. He has the same tattoo in the photo.” I gave her the details and where he was in the restaurant. She told me to go back to the table and just enjoy the meal.

About twenty minutes later, just after our order came. While we were eating, I could see a man come in from the back of the restaurant. By the look of the men entering the front of the restaurant, I could tell they were cops. They asked to have a seat for two in the back. As they walked past Bolton, they stopped and showed their badges. “Come with us Mr. Bolton.” They arrested him and handcuffed him on the spot and interviewed the man next to him.

After they led both men away, I excused myself again saying that I need to go again blaming the flight. The man in the back walked up to me and said, “Hi, I am agent Carlton. Thank you Samantha. I will let Debbie know. Good work. And you followed her instructions to the letter. You are really one brave little lady.”

“Thank you, sir. Tell Debbie I am looking forward to seeing her next month.”

“You may not remember me, but I was one of the agents down in Castle Rock. I saw your work. I can’t say how much I admire your willingness to help us.”

“You all are the real heroes. I am just happy I can help.”

“You have done more than that. I have personally saved three girls from a life ruined by those animals. There are a lot of girls out there safer because of you.”

“I think I am beginning to see that. Thank you again.”

I went to the bathroom and closed the door locking it. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. “I am not telling Mom and Dad about this one. They wouldn’t believe me.” I used the toilet, washed my hands, adjusted my make up, put on more lip gloss, and headed back to eat my lunch.

On the way back from the bathroom, I saw a piece of paper beneath the table of the two gentlemen and put it in my jacket pocket. I would look at it later.

When I got the bill. There was a post-it note on it. “Just leave the tip. Agent Carlton has picked up the tab.” I put a twenty in it and handed it to the waitress who smiled and winked at me. “Keep the change Ma’am. And thank you.”

After lunch, we walked around. Jane and Tickles spotted a nice dress shop. They went in. I was about to follow when Robert held me back. “Let them shop. I recognized that man you were talking to in the restaurant. He was there when I saw you in Castle Rock. Did you have something to do with the man they arrested?”

“Yeah. I knew him from a flier Agent Debbie had. I called it in when I went to the bathroom.”

We sat down on a bench facing the store to talk.

“What have you been doing? I heard Mom say something happened in Australia? Then I heard you had been in Canada over Christmas and that you broke something open in the Smoky Mountains. And something about capturing a bad guy from Arizona. And now, I find you catching someone in my backyard.” Robert just shook his head.

“I have been going to school too you know. I am going to do a solo during the upcoming competition in April. I wish you could come. I miss not having you around to annoy.”

“I miss having you annoy me too. Seems like I have to grow up and go out into the world. It’s kind of scary. I don’t want to be a stock boy again. That was not a fun job.”

“Is that why you are taking business administration?”

“Yeah. I figure that is where the money is.”

“But is that where your heart is?” I asked. Robert looked down the street troubled by my question.

“Where is your heart Sam?” I looked down at the quaint brick lined sidewalk thinking about Robert’s question.

“I am going to be a baby doctor. I want to help them be born healthy or be raised healthy. I keep switching from obstetrician and gynecologist to pediatrician.”

“You mean you don’t want to go into law enforcement? I mean, well, you are so good at it.”

“No way. I mean, I love helping them now. It is just that the only thing I am doing is just being window dressing for the real talent. I find taking care of babies like Alice, Brian, and Carol is so much fun, I can’t get enough of it.”

“Well, I enjoy football. But, as good as I am, I will never be on a pro football team. And business, well, it would bring in the money, I guess.”

“I take care of babies because they are my passion. Law enforcement is for making the world safe because bullies scare me. But it isn’t my passion. So, what is your passion?”

“I like coaching the other players. I went to the daily training at the gym and helped the other players in high school. I loved it. I could train them to improve their muscle strength and performance. That is part of the reason I said yes to Josh that fateful day. I really wanted to pass my knowledge along to the next player coming up after me. Secretly, even though my record would fall, there was a part of me that really wanted it to be because I taught the next player how to be better.”

“So, would you like to be a teacher and a coach?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I hadn’t thought of it in those terms before. I think it would make me happy.”

“Would you chose coaching over playing football in college?”

“That is a tough question. But, yeah, I think so.”

“You would have to teach another subject in school like English or history. Would you be willing to do that?”

“Yeah, probably history. But, yes. I could do that.” Robert was cheering up. “When did you get so smart little Sis?”

“Hanging around Doug. It rubs off.”

“Yeah, it does. He is the reason I am here. Without his tutoring or encouragement, I would be nowhere.”

“So, why Tickles? She isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

“She keeps me warm at night.” He looked like he did when I drilled him on his secret socks.

“TMI. You know it isn’t going to work out?”

“I think we both know. I think it keeps us from being lonely. She can’t wait to join the cheerleading squad. And I can’t wait to join the football team.”

“It won’t work if you find that the loneliest place for you is in another person’s arms, Robert.”

“Damn! When did you grow up and learn that?”

“A girl picks these things up.” I put my arm around my brother and rested my head on his shoulder. “Especially when she finds that she isn’t so lonely when she is with one of her favorite brothers. I love you Robert.”

I could swear I could see him cry. “I love you too, Samantha. And who is her other brother?” As much as I wanted to buy a new dress, it didn’t seem as important as this moment I was sharing with Robert.

“Doug.”

“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” Robert nodded at the suggestion that Doug was a brother.

Back at his dorm room, I found he had a small kitchenette stove and oven. I made a list of items he would need and supplies. We headed to the store and I bought some basic items for him. Going back to his place, I taught Robert how to make croque monsieurs.

“Why do I need to learn to do this, again?” he asked.

Jane answered, “Because, silly, you have a French girl in the dorm. And if you learn how to cook a common French dish she loves, you could win her heart. To her, it is comfort food.”

“But what about Tickles?”

We both looked at him, put our hands on our hips, and stared at him. “All right, all right. I get it. Our relationship is a matter of convenience and ...” he looked at me and changed what he was going to say, “… of extreme hand holding. I didn’t know it was that obvious.”

“Thank you Robert for that word picture. It is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.” I said. Jane laughed.

“Hey Samantha, another great pick up line. ‘Hey, want to do extreme hand holding with me?”

I took some flour and threw it at her. And then we all laughed.

I also got him a pot and taught him how to cook a lobster, cut it up, and plate it.

“Okay, why should I know how to cook a lobster?” as I dumped the lobster into boiling water.

“Because, dear brother, the croque monsieur will catch her attention, but the lobster will seal the deal. Trust me.”

“Okay, Samantha.” He hugged me and I made sure he knew how to cook both items of food.

When we said goodbye, I told my brother that I was sure that Juliette would need help lifting the heavy concrete boat into the water. It might be a great way to get to know her. And I told him to bring a croque monsieurs for lunch when he asks to help and ask if she would like half of his sandwich.

On the flight back, Jane said, “So, squirt. You never did buy that dress.”

“I know. We will just have to go shopping when we get back. But Robert needed rescuing.”

“It sounded like you and Robert really bonded?”

“Yeah, I think he is a lot softer than I realized. There really is a heart in there somewhere.”

“You may be right. I liked that Juliette. I hope he drops Tickles and goes for someone with depth and a real plan for their life.”

I lifted the arm rest and nuzzled against Jane. She put her arm around me and I slept until we were landing in Nashville. It was a long weekend.

My last assignment was Bill. After chatting with him about March, I found out he was going to be doing a Blue and Gold ceremony with his son. He invited us to come so we could find out about scouting. I think he was thinking about convincing me to join after my tour of duty.

It was a Saturday and it was at a local church’s hall. There were streamers in Blue and Gold all over the place. There were families with scouts dressed in their blue uniforms. Some older scouts came in tan uniforms. I found out that at each grade, a child was a different rank. Timothy, Bill’s nine year old, was a bear going into being a Weblos after a cross over ceremony in March. There were lots of awards and talk about what scouting did for the family. Then they had an entertainer come in to do magic. It was a nice ceremony.

Mom and I were at the table with Bill. It turned out that he was the den leader for his son’s den. They did camp outs, fishing, and other fun activities. I wondered why my dad hadn’t gotten me into it. But, to each his own.

“So, were you a scout too?” I asked Bill.

“Yes. I went Eagle. I also joined Order of the Arrow which is an honorary organization in scouts.”

“How come my Dad never was in scouts?”

“He was in 4H as I remember. There was a lot to do in 4H also. And, when we were growing up, this was an agricultural area still. Today, it is different.”

“I learned a little about scouts in Australia. There was a museum I went to in Ballarat. But, seeing a uniform on a boy is much different that seeing the uniforms inside a museum on display.”

“You know, if a boy were to join when they are thirteen or so, there would be enough time to go Eagle. Just a thought in case you know someone who wants to join.” I understood the hint.

“What would be in it for them?”

“Well, if they join the military, it means an automatic rank advancement from private to private first class. Also, those who tend to make Eagle do well in life. Neil Armstrong is an Eagle Scout, for example. And it helps with college applications too.”

“Well, too bad girls can’t join or else I might sign up.” I winked at him. “But seriously, what did you get out of scouting?”

“Time with my Dad in the beginning. We shared the same experiences and learned to talk to each other. And, when I became an impossible teenager, which you will soon become, we still could communicate through scouting. It gave us a place where we could connect. An added benefit is that scouting isn’t competitive. So, unlike sports, I didn’t have to compete for his affection by getting so many touchdowns or hitting so many home runs. I just had to advance in rank. And, that told him I was growing and maturing which in turn meant he could trust me more. Scouting is a win win. A win for the Dad who can see his son grow and a win for the son who can show his Dad how much he has grown.”

After the magic show, we were called outside. The sun was soon going to be setting. They began to do something I have never seen before. A flag retirement ceremony. The cub master called us all together in front of a fire.

“The Congress of the United States has authorized the Boy Scouts of America to retire a flag with dignity.” A group of cub scouts unfurled a tattered and faded stars and stripes.

“This flag has flown over a local police station for the last several years. It has represented our country and the principles of freedom by which it was founded. As we retire this flag, let us salute it one last time and say the pledge of allegiance.”

After the pledge, the boys solemnly and quietly folded the flag. They presented it to Bill.

Bill said, “As a member of the armed services, I served under this flag. I swore to defend and protect her. And I retire this well worn flag giving it its due honor for its honorable service.” He with slow and deliberate steps approached the fire, placed the flag in the fire, and stepped back. He stood at attention and slowly raised him arm to salute the flag. All the scouts saluted too. The rest of us placed our hands over our hands. When the flag was consumed by the fire, he retired his salute.

I don’t know why. Whether it was patriotism or the dignity by which everyone was behaving, but I began to cry silently because of the solemn reverence that this ceremony had which was so beautiful.

I may not be a man when I grow up, but I had come to appreciate what it took to be a real man. Loyalty, honor, and dignity. It takes a lot of courage to be a real man. I was almost saddened to realize that I wouldn’t ever be one. At the same time, I realized I really wasn’t one and that it was foolish to pretend otherwise. While I didn’t desire to be a man, I discovered how much a good and decent man was worth loving, supporting, and respecting.

In bonding with the men in my life, I had come to appreciate what kind of men they were. They weren’t so bad after all. In fact, they were admirable in many ways.

I was doing my laundry from the trip to see Robert when I found the piece of paper I picked up in my jacket. I read it and my jaw dropped.

“Agent Debbie, I got something for you. I am sorry I forgot about it, but I found a piece of paper at the table where Jeremy Bolton sat. It fell underneath the table and wasn’t obvious to the police who picked him up.”

I read her what was on the note.

“Oh wow, that changes everything. I’m sending Bill over immediately to collect it. Thanks Samantha. Good job.”

I hung up the phone. Things were going to get interesting.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[author’s note: One day, years ago, when I was twenty something, I had to have my car fixed. I took it to my favourite repair shop which I knew would do it right. But, it would take four hours and I had to kill time. Sitting in the dealership, I kept getting asked if I wanted to buy a car. I had enough.

So, I went next door at some point to a sandwich shop, plopped down at common counter for just singles like many old fashioned sandwich shops have, and proceeded to order and have a nice long lunch.

This thin shapely woman strolled in and sat at the counter a little ways from me. I observed her acting very much like the woman at the bistro I write about. Not being in a rush myself, she left before I did, and I pondered what I had just seen.

I asked the person at the counter serving me and it was explained to me why she was so jerky and poorly dressed for the weather.

I can be a bit naive sometimes. Well, actually quite a bit. I had to have someone explain to me what a titty bar was when I was in my early thirties. I had never been in one. Still haven’t. In the case of the young lady at the sandwich shop, I had no idea that the business I had passed a hundred times over the years on my way by the dealership to do some errand was a strip club.

Knowing the truth, it broke my heart that I could understand by the way she looked around the room that day that it was as much as a cry for help as it was her hope that people would notice her with her clothes on.

I wish I had known. I wish I had known what to say. I wish I had known what to do. I just wish I could have made a difference because I could sense she was hurting.

That scene has haunted me every since. I have on occasion wondered and worried about her over the years praying that life improved for her.

– AuP ]

Chapter 17 – Given My Miranda Nights

I could see Grandpa and Bill scurrying up the walkway. I opened the door for them and they came in. Bill seemed very excited to find out that I had found something. He put on gloves and took the paper from me and put it in a plastic bag with air holes. He carefully examined it and read the words on the paper.

“So, you and Doug say this is a Compuserve email address and not a zip code. And you say the address itself is a code too, you think?”

“Yes, they use a dot instead of a hyphen for Compuserve, but the numbers are much the same. That means the words on the page are possible passwords.” Doug said. “I have a DSL line at the house now. I can test it if you would like.”

“Okay, Doug, let’s give it a try.”

We walked across the street and Doug booted up his Windows 98 machine and brought up Netscape. He downloaded the software for Compuserve and then used his dial up modem. He tried logging into the account several times and then found the password that worked. It was the street name.

“Okay Doug. Log off. I think they may need to get a warrant for this and I don’t know the correct procedure. I didn’t see you get in. Electronic email is not my forte and I want to make sure I do this right if it yields good fruit.”

“What do you think we will discover, Bill?” Grandpa sounded very curious.

“Well, there is a name of an individual plus the figure of $75,000 next to them. I suspect that is a mob contract of some sort. The last number is a bank routing number. It might be to a Swiss Bank account. In all likelihood, they were discussing a hit and this was the means of contact. That is why he probably stuffed the paper as the cops approached at the side of the table.”

“Can you use it legally given how long it took to be discovered?” asked Grandpa.

“Well, the chain of evidence isn’t the best. It would have been better if they picked it up when the men were picked up. But, Samantha’s quick thinking helps. And maybe we can turn it to our advantage. They think they got rid of it, which means we can eavesdrop with the proper warrant. It gives us probable cause too which is half of the battle.” Bill was happy.

“How about the name on the paper. Do you know the man it mentions?” Grandpa asked.

“Not a man. It is a lady as a matter of fact. She is the one of the federal prosecutors working out of Denver. We need to find out why she earned a hit. And a cheap one too at that. Unless that is the down payment of twenty per cent in which case, they want it done right.” Bill said thoughtfully. Still, he was clearly concerned.

He went on to mention who it was. “Her leg work on the Timothy McVeigh Oklahoma City bombing trial earned her justifiable entry into the big leagues. Her bosses noticed her exceptional skills and dedication to her work. She has gone on to prosecute drug lords, mobsters, and a range of federal offenses. She is really good at it too with a high conviction rate. She has the cutest daughter you have ever met too. She is four years old and would melt the heart of a jack frost himself. Her husband is a retired Green Beret warrant officer and a stay at home dad these days. I met the family at a law enforcement conference in Denver last May. We had dinner together and I learned a lot about federal law enforcement.”

“Then, you are talking about ‘J. Murphy’ being Jacqueline Murphy, aren’t you?” Grandpa seemed impressed. I wondered how he knew about her. So did Bill who nodded in agreement.

“One and the same. It totally fits with where they were meeting and who Jeremy Bolton is in the grand scheme of things. Jeremy is a legs man for the mob. A low level henchman and con-man whose job it is to run errands for the mob. He likes staying out of sight. I don’t know what organized criminal case they are working on right now, but they must need her out of the picture bad enough to order a hit. The question is, what case is she working on that has painted a target on her back?”

“Sir, I have a clue on the paper, if it helps. Or rather, not on the paper.” I said half hoping I was right.

Bill and Grandpa gave me an inquisitive look.

“Well, if what you say is true, that she worked hard and moved up the ranks quickly, then she must have displaced someone along the way. So, if she is the head prosecutor, then who would take over with her gone? And why isn’t their name on the paper too?”

“Good point!” said Bill. “How did you figure that one out?” He patted me on the back.

“Woman’s intuition.” I grinned and paused while they both gave me a weird look. “Okay, the truth is that and I have been binging on Nancy Drew lately. I find myself finding clues everywhere and even when they aren’t there.”

They laughed when I told them the truth. “Okay. Let’s assume you are right, Samantha. And I think you may well be. There is a mole on the federal prosecutor’s staff. The paper left by our criminal says send ‘Accident report to I.O. on Jackie M with repairs to include $75,000 for injuries suffered as well.’ We can assume that this was all code. The address they use is fake and the street name turns out to be a password for the zip plus four which is really a Compuserve number and grants access to an email account online. Does that sum it up?”

Doug, Grandpa, and I nodded yes.

“Then I need to get in touch with internal affairs for the Feds asap. And it just so happens I know the woman personally. We don’t make many friends as internal affairs, so we tend to get to know one another. Even those in different agencies. Let me go make a phone call. I will be right back.” Bill asked if he could use the phone. Doug said yes. He went into the kitchen. I heard a brief conversation. He came back in laughing.

“Do you understand the term ‘Chain of Evidence,’ Samantha?” Bill had a smirk on his face as he said this.

“No, but I guess it has something to do with where the evidence came from.”

“That works. In this case, the fact that the paper was in your control for the last week means that you have been the custodian of the paper. Now, you are transferring it to us. But, there could be a complication. You aren’t an official law enforcement agent. So, the paper could be ruled inadmissible in a court of law, darn it. Hint, hint. But, there is a way around that. Hint, hint.” Bill was being clever. But I wasn’t getting it.

“And what would that be?” Grandpa asked in a joking way. He knew Bill was up to something.

“Let her keep the paper and turn her into an informant. Is there a secure location you can keep the paper and lock it up?” Bill winked at Grandpa.

“I have a safe deposit box.” Dad said. He was getting the guy talk. I sure wasn’t.

“Perfect. That means that the paper won’t show up in an FBI lab and the results sent to the office in Denver to the federal prosecutors there. Hint, hint.” Bill chuckled.

I was baffled by the ‘hint, hint.’ Doug laughed and turned to me to explain. “What they are saying, Samantha, is that if he takes the paper and they examine it, procedure would cause the results to be transmitted to the mole in the prosecutors office. By turning you into an informant, they can avoid that happening. All they need to do is secure the paper in a location that can’t be touched and they can proceed with the investigation of the mole first and then accept the paper later. Now do you get the hint, hint.”

Bill said, “What, did someone say something?” He pretended to look elsewhere as he ignored what Doug said.

“Oh, I get it now. But, if I am the informant, whom do I inform?” I inquired.

“Up for a little traveling young lady?” Bill beamed. “You are catching the evening flight to DC. You will inform my internal affairs contact with the U.S. Marshalls of your information. And then you head back home. So, are you and your grandfather up for a quick tour of Washington at government expense?”

And so, later that day, we were on a plane to Baltimore and Grandpa was my escort. I raised the armrest as was my custom and snuggled up against him and slept during the flight. We arrived and were met by this well dressed woman in a pant suit. She was about five ten and in her fifties. She had long grey hair and sported wire rim glasses that matched her grey hair. She had a warm face, but the wrinkles revealed a face that had dealt with worry and stress. Her smile was pleasant and warming.

“Hello, Robert Miller is it?” She said.

“Yes Ma’am.” I marveled at how military my Grandpa sounded on the job.

“I’m Tina Campbell. I am in the internal affairs division of the U.S. Marshall's office. Can you and Samantha come with me after you collect your luggage?” She had a gentle but firm air about her. Hardly what I had expected. I thought it would be a gruff person who greeted us.

“We only have carry on luggage. We can come with you now.” Grandpa said proudly. He liked traveling light.

“Fantastic.” Tina sounded impressed.

We went to her rather ordinary car and she drove us to a non-descript diner that was open 24 hours. We got a table away from others and I unfolded the information about the paper and its contents. She smiled and wrote down all the information that I had to give.

“I have everything I need, but how did you ever suspect it was a Compuserve account?”

“That was easy. Doug, my unofficial brother, had a Windows 95 computer set up with Compuserve before his parents acquired a DSL line for their research project. We used to laugh that the account number bore a striking resemblance to the zip plus four format of the postal service. We thought it would be easy to hide the account information through the use of a phony address.”

“And so?”

“That and the address was for Illinois, but the zip was for Texas.”

“Well, that would do it, wouldn’t it? I hadn't noticed.” She smiled at the obvious thing she missed.

Afterwards, she took us to our hotel in the city. We had an open jaw connection, which meant that we were going out of National instead of Baltimore. It meant we could enjoy a day in the city and then head home.

“Grandpa, didn’t you say you were stationed here for a year?”

“Yes, a requirement of the State Department is that you spend a hitch at home about every twelve years or so.”

“Neat Grandpa. What do you think we should do tomorrow?”

“Quick trip through the Smithsonian and around the capital. Then hop the metro and go home.”

We slept well and had a good breakfast. We made arrangements to keep our luggage at the hotel until we left on the Metro. We saw as much as we could. From the White House to the Mall. I loved seeing Abraham Lincoln. But the most moving memorial was the Vietnam memorial wall and the three soldiers.

Grandpa walked up and touched the wall. He just stared at it and started to cry. “I knew them Samantha. They were in my basic training class. They got caught in the Tet Offensive. We lost over fifty-eight thousand men and women in Nam. That damn war tore this country apart.”

I looked around at the Three Soldiers. “Grandpa, why didn’t you serve?”

“I got out about the time it was getting serious. I went to work for the Parks Department. I had a small family and they wanted to see me everyday.”

“Do you regret not going?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I just count myself lucky. I was at the tail end of Korea and the start of Nam. And I dodged serving in either place. There is something called survivor’s guilt. I sometimes feel it. But, I found talking with your grandmother helped. And, getting to know Roderick, I have been able to learn from him how not to feel guilty. Notice how he valued your service.”

“Well, I am glad you are here. Because without you, I wouldn’t appreciate any of their names and their sacrifice.”

“Thanks, Samantha. That means a lot to me. I love you.”

“I love you too.” As we walked away, I turned and saw many men and women standing at the wall. Each one had a story about someone they loved. Looking at the names one last time, I hoped their sacrifices will never be forgotten.

On the flight home, I snuggled up against Grandpa again. I noticed he held me tighter than the flight out. I woke up and we were picked up by Bill.

“I heard good things about you Samantha. Tina really liked you. Thought you were a very mature young lady.”

“Thanks Bill. Do you think Tina will be able to protect the prosecutor?”

“We will see. She is flying out to Denver to talk to Ms. Murphy personally. It will depend on what Murphy wants to do.”

Waking up the next morning was almost impossible. But, Dad drove me to school to let me sleep longer. Mom was already there. The day went well and Choir was a lot of fun. Instead of us getting our normal song of the week, we began to work together for the competition in five weeks or so.

Mr. Thompson announced, “Okay class, time to go over the rules. There are thirty schools coming to the competition. They are each being allowed two songs to do as a choir and one solo. Then, the judges will eliminate all but ten schools. Those ten will compete based on a twenty minute program. There has to be one solo with choir backing them up. One foreign language song. One medieval song and one modern. And all of that to take place in about 10 to 12 minutes. That means they can audition four choirs an hour and finish all thirty in less than eight hours. So, auditions will start at 8:30 am all the way through to 8:00 pm.”

Mr. Thompson looked around the room. “We have to make our best impression out of the gate. The ten will then compete over the next two days. We will have a better chance to compete if we get there and use our other talents. Two solos at least. Male and female. Five songs. One Broadway tune and One Medieval. The rest is up to us. The only hitch is that we just can’t use the same song the same way twice.”

Grace asked. “About the foreign song, is that going to be a solo with Jackie?” She sounded disappointed. I was scared stiff. A lot would be riding on me.

“Yes, Grace.” That is why I chose ‘Chanter.’ It is three minutes and thirty seconds. But, as I said, we can only use the solo once. In the second part of the competition, another girl will get a chance to sing. But, I fully intend to use Jackie’s talents to get us into the second round. I want to use her for her solo, then as a guitar player for our modern song, ‘Here comes the sun,’ by the Beatles, and at the piano for ‘Coventry Carol.’ So, we can use Elysa with ‘Coventry Carol’ during the second round. What do you all think?”

The general agreement was that it would work. I was, of course, feeling the pressure to perform. Each of the songs relied heavily on me. But, at the same time, the second round didn’t. It would be able to take advantage of the range of talents of everyone else. I understood what Mr. Thompson was doing. My grandfather had explained to me the concept of shock and awe from the military. Mr. Thompson was merely stacking the deck at the first round and implying that we had more talent than just myself, which we do.

And so, I found myself in the presence of Mrs. Cox during choir who would work on my French skills with ‘Chanter’ twice a week. In a moment of inspiration, Mr. Thompson used a rule to help me. I could have music in front of me for my solo if someone turned the pages. So, he had Dean do it with me. That way I could sing to him and ignore the crowd.

After I finished my homework that afternoon, Bill showed up and collected me. He needed my help. They had found a girl who had been being abused by her family. He didn’t go into the details, but, they wanted to make her feel at home. She was about eight years old and in third grade. Child protective services was overwhelmed and couldn’t get there until six. They needed her to have a friend until they arrived. Her name was Arlene. She looked exhausted and unkempt with deep circles under her eyes.

“Hi Arlene, can I get you something to eat?”

“Who are you?” Arlene shot me an angry look. She sounded defensive.

“My name is Samantha. I help like helping Officer O’Brien. I am her niece. I heard you were in here all alone waiting for someone to show up to take you to foster care. And I thought I would see if you wanted something.”

“Is that where they are going to take me? I don’t want to go. I want to go home.” She began to cry.

I sat down next to her and patiently waited.

“What are you looking at?” She was clearly defensive.

“You, obviously. Well, would you like something to eat or drink?”

“All right! Bring me a gallon of ice cream.”

“Melted or still frozen?” I said. She laughed.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me what flavor?”

“I would, but this is a police station. Have you ever tried to get a gallon of ice cream through the security checks they have here? They have to check it for a file in case you want to escape. Then they got to taste test it to make sure I am not going to hurt you. A squad of cops can take a toll on how much ice cream is left. And by the time you get permission to bring it to someone … well, I don’t want to tell you, but it isn’t pretty.”

“Doesn’t seem to give you much choice. So, what could you possibly bring me then?”

“They have this awesome vending machine here. It has healthy things like candy bars, potato chips covered in fake cheese, awful cookies that claim they were made by your grandmother, but were really made by drunken elves. And all sorts of gum.” She began giggling.

“If you think so highly of this place, why do you come here?” Arlene relaxed a little.

“Good question.” I looked both ways and then whispered, “Its food is way better than my school.” She howled at my comment.

“Can you get me some milk and cookies?”

“Sure. Did you want it stale or just recently out of date?”

“Stale would be fine.” she chuckled.

“I will be right back.” I went out and Bill helped me get some milk and cookies. I took them into her.

“Hi Samantha. Thank you for the cookies and milk.”

“Would you like something to read or do while you wait?”

“Maybe someone to talk to would be nice? Do you mind?”

“Of course not.”

“How old are you?”

“I am twelve. I am in 7th grade.”

“That’s nice. Is your school food really that bad?”

“Not really. I enjoy it. Which is kind of surprising. I can cook. You would think I would make my own lunches. But, my Mom teaches at my school and we have to leave early. I am in choir, so I have to spend the morning doing warm ups so I can train my voice. That means I can’t make my own lunch.”

“Do you have sisters?”

“An older sister. I have a cousin who is seven. She is coming out for spring break in a few weeks. I like doing make up with her and we want to dress up. That will be nice.”

“Aren’t you curious about me?” She was feeling sorry for herself again.

“Yes, but I can’t ask you any questions about your family. It is the rules.” She didn’t like what I had to say.

“Then why are you here?” she grew defensive.

“Because you need a friend. And it is scary being in here alone. I volunteer to be a friend to someone so they can relax. I mean, this room isn’t the nicest. They just want you to know they care while they wait for someone is authorized to take care of you. So they let me stay with you if you want.”

“You mean I could ask you to leave?” Part of her, I could tell, didn’t like to be trapped.

“Yes, you can.”

“Then leave.” I could tell her anger wasn’t directed at me, but at the room.

“Okay.” I got up to leave.

“No, stay. Sorry. I just wanted to see if it was true.” I could tell she was under stress.

“I understand.” I sat back down.

For the next few hours, we just chatted about different stuff. By the time the child protective services agent showed up with council, Arlene was so relaxed, they were able to get a treasure trove of material from her.

Dad stopped by to pick me up. “Samantha, Bill says you did a great job with that girl. I am proud of you. You stuck to the rules he said.”

As we walked out, I looked up at him. He was deep in thought. I wondered what was on his mind. I sweetly asked, “Can we get some ice cream Daddy?”

“Sure, Princess.” I loved his answer. But, his mind was still on something. I took his hand. And we strolled out to the car. He must have been in real deep thought because we drove past the ice cream shop. When we got home, mom greeted us. “I put your dinner in the oven. How did it go?”

“She was fantastic according to Bill. They said she had her feeling at ease in no time which made their job easier once the CPS agent and legal council showed up.”

“Have you told Samantha the news yet?”

“No, I was going to let your Dad.”

“What news Dad?”

“Oh, we are getting house guests. Seems you are popular.”

I was a bit confused. Dad and I sat down at the dinner table. Grandpa came in to join us.

“Have you told her yet?” Grandpa was apprehensive.

“No, we thought we would let you do that.” Dad said.

I just looked at both of them with my lips pursed and nose scrunched. I think they knew I was annoyed.

“Okay, okay. I get the message. You know that information you passed on to Tina. It looks like they are taking it seriously. So, after they talked to Ms. Murphy, it was decided to get her husband and daughter out of town for at least two weeks while they gave her protection. I don’t know what they found on Compuserve, but it confirmed their worse suspicions. So, they are setting a trap for the mole and the hit man. Oh, they are only supposed to hurt her, not kill her if possible. Make it look like an accident.”

“That sounds great. But what does that mean for us?”

“The husband and daughter are going to stay with you. How are you going to handle it Paul?” Grandpa said.

“I guess I can put up Samantha with Jane again. They seemed to enjoy it. We can give Samantha’s room to Miranda and Robert’s to Duke.” Mom offered as she sat down at the table with us.

“I could take in Jane. We have been wanting to see more of her. That way, no one has to share a room.” Grandpa said.

“Well, in that case, we could let Miranda stay in Jane’s room. That would make it easier because our room is across the way and we can watch Miranda too.” Mom added.

Dad grimaced. “I am okay with these plans, but we have your brother coming, Pamela. We were going to give them Robert’s room and let Samantha and Jane stay with my folks. I have been trying to think about how to make this work.”

“Why are we doing this again?” Mom asked. “I feel like we are running a hotel.”

“Because, they don’t want to use a hotel where they can be traced to by the mob. They can’t use family. And they need someone who can look after Miranda if it is needed. And Samantha will love taking care of Miranda.”

I beamed, “Yes Sir. I would love to take care of Miranda.” It looked like I would have a little sister.

The arrangements having been made, we had a knock on the door the next day after school. It was Tina with a man and a little girl. “Hi Ms. Tina, Mr. Murphy, and this must be Miranda!” I squatted down in front of this little shy girl who was hanging on to her Daddy’s leg. I put out my hand to shake.

“Hi Miranda. My name is Samantha. Can we be friends?”

Miranda smiled at me and after a moment held out her doll. “This is Francesca. She is my dolly.”

“Nice to meet you Francesca. You sure are pretty. Just like Miranda.” I shook her doll’s hand and then gave it a kiss on the cheek.

Miranda melted. I got up and Miranda offered me her hand. “I like you. You are pretty too.”

Mom came to the door. “Come on in. Let’s get you settled. Is there anything you need to do right away? Oh, I am sorry. My name is Pamela. This is my husband Paul. And you have already met Samantha.”

“No, but thank you Pamela. Thank you for taking us in on such short notice. Please, my name in Donovan. We couldn’t use any federal connections to find a safe place to stay. When Tina here had a solution, we hoped you would say yes. It is very kind of you to take us in on such short notice.”

Dad piped up, “Why don’t you give me the key to your trunk Tina, and Robert and I can bring in their luggage while you all get acquainted.”

“Oh, I can let you do that.” Mr. Murphy protested.

“We know you can do it. And based on what we hear, you could kick our butt too. But, your little girl is the only concern you should have right now. We have got your six.” Grandpa said.

Miranda looked up at her dad and my heart melted. She dearly loved him and it showed. If he left the room, she would clearly panic. Grandpa was right.

“Miranda, while the adults get settled in, can we have a tea party with you and Francesca? My friend Mary is here and she has the table ready.” Miranda looked up at her dad. He nodded yes and had a big smile on his face.

She shuffled over to our table. “This is real tea! And what are these?”

“These are called scones. And these are tea sandwiches. And these are tea biscuits. And this is my best friend, Mary. We are going to have high tea just like they do in England.”

“It is nice to meet you Mary. I never have had real tea before. Thank you.”

We put up Francesca in her own chair. We sat down and taught Miranda how to drink tea. She discovered that she liked it with a little milk and sugar. She loved the scones with butter and jam. And she adored the tea biscuits. We were having such a good time, we didn’t notice that the adults had gotten everyone settled in. Her dad came over and sat down with us.

“Well, Princess, have you been having a good time?” Mr. Murphy’s voice was tender and kind.

“Oh yes, Daddy, but this table is for girls only. We are having high tea.”

Trying not to laugh, Mr. Murphy feigned looking sad, “Does that mean I have to go?” He hung his head low and pretended to be sad.

Mary was having fun with this. “Oh yes, you will have to go. Unless? Here, I have an idea, Miranda.” Mary took the big brimmed hat with flowers on it off her head and put it on Mr. Murphy and took off her pink pastel scarf and put it around his neck. “See, Miranda, we made him a girl for the rest of the high tea.”

Miranda giggled, “You look pretty, Daddy!” He chuckled and began to drink his tea with his pinky stuck out.

“Thank you Samantha and Mary for going out and getting the scones and having a tea party for Miranda. They are good.” Mr. Murphy said in a falsetto voice.

“You’re welcome, but I cooked the scones myself. I even made the strawberry jam.” I said. “Mary did the sandwiches and the tea biscuits.”

Mr. Murphy nodded his head as he took a bite of his scone. He was clearly discovering our talents.

A little while later, he looked up at our wall clock. “Okay, Miranda, I have to be Daddy again. It is time for your nap. Say thank you to the nice ladies.”

“Daddy, no! I don’t want to take a nap. I am grown up just like Mary and Samantha. Please, Daddy, don’t!” She pouted and stomped her foot. She threw the most adorable tantrum.

“Yes Miranda, you know how tired you get and grumpy too.” He took off his hat and scarf and gave it back to Mary. He lovingly picked up Miranda and took her and Francesca upstairs quietly absorbing all her protests responding to each one with a kiss on her cheek.

Grandpa came around the corner. “Thank you Mary. You and Samantha sure made Miranda feel at home.”

“It was nothing. I have always wanted to have a real tea party instead of the imaginary ones I had when I was Miranda’s age.” Mary said. “It was a lot of fun.”

Doug came in. “Can you stay for dinner, Mary?”

“Oh no, I have to finish my homework.”

“We can do it all together. After all, Doug gave up time with you.” I said. I knew that Doug loved spending time with her.

“Oh, okay.” We sat down and did our homework. It was wonderful. We talked about our classes. Doug helped us understand a few concepts in math that we were having trouble with. His patience is so awesome. He takes his time to let us get it and we don’t feel as if he is judging us. At the end of the homework session, he and Mary were holding hands.

“Come on you two love birds, time for dinner.” They both turned red.

Mr. Murphy came down with Miranda. She was clearly better rested. Mom brought out my old booster seat and let Miranda sit on it next to her dad and to me. I was very happy.

After dinner, Mary was very stern. “Earth to Samantha, you still got to practice for the competition.” I put the doll I had borrowed for playing with Miranda down.

“Yes. You are right. Miranda, I have to practice for choir. Can I play you the guitar tonight?”

“Sure. I went upstairs and grabbed my guitar. I came back down and set up next to her and Mary, who had picked up my doll and was now playing with Miranda.

I played ‘Here comes the sun.” We started to sing it too. Miranda never heard it before. I pretended she was the little darling and so did Mary who would point at her and she would giggle.

Doug’s parents came to the rescue with an offer we couldn’t refuse. Jane was going to stay across the street in one of their spare rooms. This would allow us to have everyone visit for the next week without having to resort to a hotel. My aunt and uncle would stay with my grandparents along with Tristan. Evelyn would stay with me in my room. She had been told to stay quiet about my being really a boy. It was going to be a nice two weeks if Miranda would be her for that long.

After a long day at school, going for a walk with Grandpa, doing homework, practicing for the choir competition, and babysitting Alice, Brian, and Carol, I finally had some alone time with Miranda. I was babysitting her so her Dad and my parents could go out and enjoy a little adult time. I was in heaven.

First, we played a little house in the living room. We took care of our babies and chatted about our rough days at work. Then we pretend cooked dinner and had to put our babies to bed. It was a sweet time. Then, I made dinner for the two of us for real. Miranda was very impressed that I knew how to cook and she really enjoyed the grilled cheese sandwich I cooked for her. I was a bit disappointed that is all she wanted, but what could I expect from a four year old.

Then I drew a bubble bath for her. She giggled and played in the bath. She got out and I helped dry her off and get her dressed for bed.

“Samantha, I miss my Mommy. I wish I could talk to her.”

“I know. But, they say we aren’t supposed to call until the bad men are caught. They don’t want them to know where you are right now. But, I know she misses you too.”

After helping her get her nightshirt on, she hugged me. “I wish you could come home with me.”

“I like spending time with you too. Come on, let’s get those teeth brushed and then I can brush your hair.”

She brushed her teeth and then we sat down where I could brush her hair. “Why do they want to hurt my Mommy?”

“I wish I could tell you. But, your Mommy is very special and I know she will make them pay. I love your hair Miranda. It is so pretty. Would you like to do something special with it? Like braid it?”

“Oh yes, would you? Mommy keeps saying she will, but she comes home tired. Mommy works too hard.”

I combed out her beautiful blonde hair, grabbed my spray bottle with water, and began to French braid her hair. “Did you learn to braid hair from your Mom?” she asked.

“No, I learned to do it in my Shakespeare class. The girls would do it to each other so our hair wouldn’t get in the way while we were acting. I found I got rather good at it. I don’t get much chance to do it these days. But, I like doing it. There, you are done. I put on the elastic at the end of the braid. Tell me what you think?” I held up a mirror and she was thrilled.

“Oh thank you! Do you think you could teach my Dad.”

“Sure, I would love to. I think he would enjoy doing it. Time for bed. You use the potty first. I have got a special story for you. It is one of my favorites. Pippi Longstocking.”

After washing her hands, I tucked her into bed, pulled up a chair, and began to read to her. She soon yawned and fell asleep to my reading. I closed the book and just sat there and watched her sleep peacefully. She was so sweet and pretty with her hazel eyes and long blonde hair. I didn’t even hear that her dad had come back. I heard his soft voice, “That was kind of you Samantha, thank you.”

I turned to the voice at the door and smiled. “Thank you. I enjoyed every moment of it. Miranda is a sweet girl. I really like her. But she sure misses her mom.” I got up, put the book down, and walked to the door.

“So do I. I can’t wait until this whole thing is over. I hear from Tina that you were the one who found out that someone was trying to harm her. We can’t thank you enough.”

I looked back at her sleeping peacefully. “I am really glad I was able to help. She really loves you. Miranda wants me to teach you how to French braid her hair.”

“I’d like to learn that.”

“Tomorrow, Sir. Right now, I am going off to the land of Nod myself.”

There was something about caring for this young girl that was better than I can explain. I never felt more like a girl until now. And I don’t know why. I curled up in bed and slept like an angel. I woke the next morning early. I had to be careful now that I was sharing a bathroom. I took a quick shower, quickly washed my hair, and put on my government issued appliance. I dried out my hair and went into my room and got dressed. The early spring weather was here it would be alternating between warm and cold. Today was going to be on the warm side, so I found myself trying to decided what to wear. Show I go with a skirt or jeans. I decided on jeans since I would be playing with the triplets and Miranda.

But, what for the top? I picked out that nice silk peach blouse I wore at my uncles and put on a black vest. I picked out a cotton elastic choker and attached my silver heart to it. I also put on a little perfume. I had no idea why, but I wanted to smell pretty. I put on some light pale blue ear rings that set off nicely my blouse and and some blue plastic bracelets. Then I tied my hair back into a high pony tail. The choice for my nails was hard. I finally went with nude. I just couldn’t find a color a I liked with the blouse. I would have to visit the store to find something that would.

I went downstairs and cooked breakfast. People started coming down. Mom and Dad were enjoying the eggs and sausage I had cooked when Mr. Murphy came in and found me at the stove cooking some more eggs. I handed him a plate of eggs and sausage.

“Oh, Samantha, you don’t have to do this. I am capable of fending for myself.”

“I know Mr. Murphy, but I like to cook.”

“He sat down and was talking with my parents. I plated my eggs and sausage and put on an apron and cleaned the pan and the tools I cooked with. I put away the jar of drippings under the sink. I put up everything to dry and went to sit down with everyone at the breakfast table.

“Samantha, you are a dream. You cook and clean up after yourself. That is a nice work ethic.”

“Thank you again, Mr. Murphy. I enjoy it. It relaxes me. And, Mrs. Smith really enjoys it when I babysit. It is really hard to manage triplets. I don’t envy her.” I was hungry and ate the small amount of eggs and sausage quickly. I liked to eat lady like portions in the morning.

“Honey, Grandma is coming over with Grandpa this morning to drive you to school. He wants to do your walk today after school. And I thought you might like to use the time this morning to help our guests.”

“That is a wonderful idea Mom.” Before they could say anything, I jumped up, put my dishes in the sink, and rushed upstairs to wake up Miranda.

She looked like a sweet angel. “Miranda, time to wake up sleepy head.”

She looked up at me and smiled. “You look nice today Samantha.”

“Thank you. You look pretty too. Come on. The bathroom is free. You need to get it there and use it. What would you like for breakfast?”

“I would like pancakes.”

“Deal, you go use the bathroom and I will cook you up a batch. By the time you get down stairs, they will be ready.”

After leading her to the bathroom, I rushed downstairs and grabbed the Bisquick box to make up some batter. Ten minutes later, I had a short stack for Miranda. She came wandering in her night shirt.

“Daddy!” She rushed up to him while he was talking to my Dad. My Mom had already left.

“Pumpkin! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” She nodded yes and snuggled with him.

I brought over the short stack of pancakes and put them in front of her with a glass of milk. “Here is the butter and syrup. Did you want your Daddy to cut it up for you.” She looked up at him. He already had grabbed the knife and fork. “Thank you again Samantha. You are spoiling us.” he said.

“That’s the idea.” I trotted off to get my backpack together and be ready for when Grandma arrived. Dad was going in at ten during the week to give extra time to Mr. Murphy. It was a slow week for him anyway. They always arranged for little to do in March and April because spring storms usually disrupted the work flow anyway he said.

I came back into the kitchen. I had an idea. “Miranda, would you like me to make you a couple of Easter dresses? We could do them together and then you can tell your Mommy all about them when you get back.”

“Oh, could we! Yes, I would love that.”

Grandma came in the side door and we scurried out for school. “Grandma, could you swing by the fabric store and find a few Simplicity patterns for Miranda and some fabric. I would like to make her a couple of Easter style dresses. That way we have something to for the next few nights. It will make it fun for her to learn, don’t you think?”

“I would enjoy that. I know you sew, but I have never seen you do it. Mind if I help too.”

“No, I would love it.” I hugged her and ran off to my first class.

At home, later that day, I found Grandma talking to Jane.

“It’s okay, Jane. We will help out. We admire you for working as a waitress and going to community college. But, would you rather get an inheritance from us to pay off your student debt or let us pay now and get to spend more time with you?”

My sister bowed to her logic. “I would love to see more of you. Since I graduated from school, I haven’t had any time for family. And I live here. Thank you Grandma.”

“Good, then don’t worry about losing your job. We will work it out. Just go to class and leave the driving to us.”

“Jane, does this mean I will see more of you?” I beamed and couldn’t hide my joy.

“Yes, Pipsqueak, it does.” I went up and hugged her.

“Squeak, squeak.”

“What is that for?” She was curious about my squeaking.

“Well, if you are going to call me Pipsqueak, then I need to give you a squeak or two. It means I love you.” She giggled and gave me a big hug. I was very happy. I hadn’t really enjoyed having Jane around since she graduated from high school.

“I love you too.”

I found Grandma had gotten me three lovely outfits. Better still, she and Mr. Murphy had gone to the store together with Miranda and let her help chose all three including the fabric. The process of making them for the next two weeks would keep us busy.

I went into the kitchen and made a meatloaf. It didn’t take long. I left it in the fridge for Mom to put on later. Mr. Murphy came downstairs with Miranda who had just gotten up from her nap. After I finished my chores, I said, “Miranda, would you like to come with me to babysit the triplets? Don’t worry Mr. Murphy, they are just next door.”

“Oh, yes! Please, can I Daddy.” Miranda was loving being with me. I could tell.

Jane said, “Mind if I join you, Pipsqueak?” I love my sister’s nickname for me. I smile every time she says it.

“Sure, Sis. I would love it.”

I picked up Miranda and we all walked next door. Mrs. Smith was thrilled to have all three of us. Brian was just driving her nuts. He was already walking at ten months. Next month, they were going to be a year old. Jane took Alice and I took Carol. Miranda loved running with Brian and keeping him out of trouble.

“Oh, bless you all. I can go take a nap now. Do you need anything?” Mrs. Smith said.

“No, Mrs. Smith. When do you want us to feed them?”

“About five-thirty. Their food is in the fridge as usual. I have set my alarm.”

We formed a circle in their living room. Letting each of the girls balance themselves and try to talk to us. They were already learning to speak. The girls could say ‘Sam’ and ‘Moma’ and ‘Dada’ now. Brian could walk and squeal, but couldn’t talk. Miranda liked shepherding him.

“Samantha, I like babies. But they are a lot of work.” Miranda said.

“Yes they are. But I love them. They are worth it.” I nuzzled with Carol and blew raspberries on her tummy as I changed her.

“Do you want to be a Mommy too?” she asked me?

“That would be nice.” I said somewhat dreamily as I finished changing Carol.

“I don’t know if I can carry one in my tummy. I am afraid I might eat them instead.” Miranda said with a little concern in her voice.

“I don’t think it works that way, Miranda. Your Mommy and my Mommy carried us in their tummies until we came out. And they didn’t eat us.” I said calmly.

“Do you want to carry a baby in your tummy, Samantha?” She asked innocently.

“Sadly, Miranda, I can’t carry a baby in my tummy. The doctors can’t fix me. I would have to adopt.” I pouted. Jane smiled and bit her lip.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Samantha. It must make you very sad.” Miranda began to get tears in her eyes.

Before I could say anything to make her feel better, Jane said, “It is okay Miranda, I can give her something from my body and then let another girl can carry a baby for Samantha so she can have babies that are her own flesh and blood so she can be a mommy too. She will have a family of her own. I promise.”

“Really! You would do that for your sister?” said Miranda. She cheered up.

I looked at my sister with astonishment. She looked at me, smiled, and gave me a nod and then looked back to Miranda. “Don’t worry, Miranda, just know that if my sister ever wants to be a Mommy, I will help her out because that is what sisters do.” She came over with Alice and gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, “And I mean it too, Pipsqueak. If something were to ever happen to you where you couldn’t have kids of your own, I would do whatever I could to make it possible for you to have kids of your own. I think Robert would do it too. Your family loves you. We see how much you love children and how good you are to them.”

As I held Carol, I reached around and hugged Jane back. I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t even say, ‘Squeak, squeak.’ I just burrowed my head into her side where Miranda couldn’t see me and quietly sobbed.

She held onto me tenderly gently stroking my head and let me cry. She kissed my head and said, “You are such a softy, Pipsqueak. That is one of the many things I love about you.”

Until five-thirty, we played. And then we set up the triplets in the kitchen and each of us let them eat. They were getting good at using spoons and sippy cups. It was fun. Mrs. Smith came into the kitchen and found we had cleaned up and the babies had been fed and changed. She said thank you and we headed back to the house to have meatloaf for dinner.

The next night was a bit scary. Spring storms in Tennessee often are. The sirens went off about eleven. I went in and picked up Miranda. Her father came into the room. I said, “We need to get downstairs to bathroom. It is our safe room.” I carried Miranda down there. Mom and Dad joined us with a radio. We listened to the news. There was news of rotation nearby our location.

“What does rotation mean?” Mr. Murphy asked.

“It means either a tornado has touched down or could touch down.”

About twenty minutes later, the storm passed us by.

“Daddy, I am scared. Can Samantha stay with me tonight?”

“Miranda, she has school in the morning.” He was trying to give me a way out. I didn’t want it.

“It’s okay Mr. Murphy, I would love to stay with her.” I pulled out from the bottom of Jane’s bed, her trundle bed and grabbed a pillow from my room. So, she and I weren’t technically in the same bed. That seemed to satisfy Mr. Murphy who said he was okay with it now.

“Samantha. I want to have a sister. I want her to be just like you.”

“Miranda, if I had a four year old sister, I would want her to be just like you.”

“Goodnight, Samantha.”

“Goodnight, Miranda.”

I woke up at six to Mom sitting on the side of my bed. “Sleep well honey?” She caressed my leg and patted it.

“Yes, Mommy. I did.” I looked over and saw Miranda sleeping peacefully. “It is like I have a little sister. And I love that.”

Mom and I quietly put the trundle back and crept out of the room.

We quietly cooked some waffles together. I put on the coffee maker. I also made up some orange juice.

“Samantha, thank you for making Miranda and Donovan feel so welcome. You are a wonderful hostess. It seems like every time someone imposes on you, you don’t even care. You just embrace what ever you are called on to do. And you do it with such grace, tenderness, and kindness.” Mom hugged me and kissed me on the head.

Mr. Murphy came in carrying Miranda who was rubbing her eyes and waking up. “Good morning sleepyhead” I said.

Mr. Murphy put Miranda down and she came over and took a hold of my leg. “Would you like some waffles this morning?” She nodded yes. I plated some and then reached down and picked her up. Her legs were wrapped around my body as I held her with one arm. I took my free hand and picked up her dish and carried her to the breakfast table where I put down the plate first and then put her on the chair in front of it. “Would you like milk and orange juice too?”

“Yes, please.”

I brought her milk and orange juice. I then cut up her waffle so she could eat it. Mr. Murphy just stood there with a smile on his face and watched me as I took care of her every need. I then grabbed a brush I had downstairs and brushed out her hair while she ate. Next, I braided it and put a red bow on where I had put the elastic.

“That is so pretty Samantha, thank you.” he said. Mom looked on approvingly.

“Come here Samantha, please, and bring the brush.” Mom brushed out my hair, squirted it with water, and then French braided it just like I had done for Miranda. Mr. Murphy brought over a rubber band and a blue bow I had a the table too.

“See, Miranda, now you two look like sisters.” Mom said. I picked up a mirror I had downstairs and we took a look at each others hair. Miranda was happy.

Dad came wandering in. Mr. Murphy turned to him and said, “We are lucky men, Paul. There is nothing more special than pretty daughters, is there?”

There is nothing that makes a girl feel prettier than when the know their dads love their little girls. I felt on cloud nine. It was a great start to what would be a wonderful day.

With Jane home early from school, I was able to ask Mrs. Smith to bring over the triplets to our place. While Jane and Grandma helped watch them, Miranda and I began work on her dresses. Grandma and Jane were enjoying watching me and the triplets. It was a girl gab fest.

The first outfit we did was really just a skirt with appliques just above the hemline not unlike a poodle skirt. It was very simple to make. Rather than poodles, I did cute little kittens playing around the skirt. It hardly took any time at all to do it. It had a nice elastic waste and was a perfect fit for Miranda. She put it on over her little jeans. It looked adorable on her.

The next dress was a little more complicated. It was a romper with buttons on the bodice at the shoulders. I carefully measured it out and had it done in about the same time as the skirt since it didn’t have the time consuming appliques. Miranda was so excited, she threw off her clothes, except for her panties and put on the dress. She twirled and looked at herself in the mirror. She loved it.

The last one was a bit more complicated. I would have to really work on this one. It was a complex dress red dress with a flower print with white lace on the front. It had nice shoulders with lace trim and was adorable. It took me about an hour an a half to get it right. But finally, I was done with all three outfits. Mrs. Smith came to pick up her babies and was intrigued to see the fashion show that unfolded.

After the grand reveal to the dad in which Miranda modeled all the outfits, Mr. Murphy said, “Samantha, I can’t believe you did this all so quickly. They are gorgeous!” Mr. Murphy was clearly delighted.

“I wish I could send pictures to my wife of how pretty she looks in them.” I swear, he was about to cry.

Miranda was thrilled to have her Dad’s approval and gushed all over him as he admired her in each outfit.

Mrs. Smith came up to me. “I remember what you did for my babies. And now I get to see someone else experience the same joy. You really ought to do something for yourself, Samantha.”

As I helped her get her babies back home, she made me an offer. “Samantha, if you want, I would love to sit down with you and go over what I see in catalogs that I think would look really good on you? Would you mind my help? I want to do something for just you.”

“No, actually, I would love it. I have been wanting to find my own style. But, as much as I help other people, I just don’t know what looks good on me. I really don’t know a lot about fashion. Still, I have admired how tastefully you have dressed since I met you. I am not promising anything, but it would be fun just to learn about it from someone whose taste I admire.”

I said my goodbyes and skipped back home. I read Miranda another chapter from ‘Pippi Longstocking’ as her dad and Jane listened. “Thank you again Samantha. You have a magic touch with my Miranda. She loves you very much. I wished you lived in Denver. We would have you babysit her in a heart beat.”

“The feeling is mutual. I am really enjoying having her here. She is a sweet girl. It is like I have a little sister. And yes, I would love to babysit her.”

The next day was getting caught up day. Our skating instructor wanted to work with Dean alone this week. He needed to get his foot work down before we could seriously start ice dancing. Apparently, I was a bit of a distraction. Most partners don’t have romantic feelings for each other and, well, we did. She wanted his eyes off of me. I felt cheated. I loved the way Dean was starting to look at me.

Dad and Mr. Murphy let me babysit Miranda. I decided we would play house for real.

“Come on Miranda, let’s clean up the house.” I pulled out the laundry baskets and we hit every room and took down the dirty clothes. I started to sort every basket according to the clothes in it and then began to do the laundry for that room. Then she followed me to the bathroom downstairs and helped me clean the bathroom by giving me what I needed when I asked for it. We chatted while I worked.

Then we went upstairs and did the same thing for the two bathrooms there which included the master bathroom. I grabbed the sheets from the hall closet and we proceeded to put fresh sheets on the beds. I took the sheets downstairs to the laundry room where I threw a load into the dryer and put more clothes into the washing machine.

Dad, Grandpa, and Mr. Murphy walked in having gone to the local gun store. Mr. Murphy wanted to make sure he had protection just in case it was needed. Dad was enjoying bonding with him and finding out what it was like to be a Green Beret. Grandpa no doubt enjoyed showing off his knowledge of weapons and their stopping power. I know, because I usually tuned him out once I heard either the word caliber or millimeter when associated with a gun.

They continued their discussion at the kitchen table. After a bit, Miranda went over to her dad and snuggled while I continued to work on cleaning the house. Jane came in from her classes and began to help me.

I went over to Miranda. “Time for your nap.” We went upstairs and I put her down and read more Pippi to her. She fell asleep and I went back downstairs to continue working on laundry and other house cleaning we needed to do.

Jane and I were folding laundry. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I really imposed on you. I should carry my own weight.” Mr. Murphy said.

“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” I was baffled.

“You just did our laundry and you put Miranda down for her nap. That’s my job. That is what I usually do at home.”

“But you seemed to be enjoying your time with the guys. You’re a long way from home. And you are our guest.” I continued to fold laundry.

“It’s okay, Donovan. You are our guest. The girls do this normally. They seem to enjoy doing it together.”

“Did you work as a team with the Green Berets?” I asked.

“Yeah, we would train foreign troops to take over their defense. Seal Team Six and the other special forces were there for missions. Our mission was to work ourselves out of a job.”

“So, you taught troops how to fight?” I asked.

He sat down. Jane and I worked well together. She pulled out a load from the dryer and I grabbed the current load in the washing machine and put it the now empty dryer and started it. As I was doing that, she put in a new load into the washer.

“Yeah, I found their weaknesses and provided the kind of training they would need to strengthen their forces and special force. In addition, I taught them how to render medical aid and more.”

“Must be pretty boring to be home now taking care of a little girl and no one to teach?” Jane asked.

Jane and I were really tag teaming him without even realizing it.

“I learned to clean and take of things from my Mom and sister. They were my teachers.” I hugged my sister as I said it and then went back to work.

“I hadn’t thought of it, but that is what I really miss about being a Green Beret. I taught all over the world and got to know so many people. Now, I hardly see anyone. It gets lonely.”

“Where in Denver do you live?” Jane asked. I had a feeling I knew where she was going with that question.

“South end, because it is a short drive to the courthouse. Why do you ask?”

“Have you thought about tutoring cadets at the Air Force Academy?” I said. The tag team was doing their job.

Mr. Murphy looked at us for a moment as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He smiled and said, “You know, that thought never occurred to me. I have been so focused on being a dad so much, I hadn’t given it much thought. I was just giving so much support to Jacqueline’s career that I wasn’t thinking about what I wanted to do.”

“That makes sense. Miranda is quite a handful. You are an awesome Dad. She is lucky to have you.” Jane said.

“Thank you. And thanks for the advice.” He wandered off and we kept working.

“You know Sis, we make a good team.” I loved being around Jane.

“Sure do, Pipsqueak.” She said that with pride.

I giggled and said, “Squeak, squeak.”

“I love you too.”

In no time at all, we had everyone’s laundry done and were working on the bed sheets and towels. We took turns putting away the clothes upstairs. Mom came in at one point and gave us a hug. “I don’t know what I would do without you guys. You are the best girls any mother could have.”

Dinner was great. Dad and Grandpa fired up the grill and we had hamburgers hot off the grill. Miranda was happy as a clam with all the attention she was getting. But, at one point I could see her go off and start holding her doll tightly and looking sad.

I went up to her. “Are you sad because you are missing your Mom?” I asked. She nodded yes.

“Hey, why don’t we draw pictures. I will draw a picture of my Mom and you draw a picture of yours.” We sat down at the table and I pulled out some crayons. We drew these awesome pictures of our Moms and gave them nice places to be. Her stick figure had her Mom in front of a ski chalet with a fire going. Apparently, she was skiing with her Mom when the news came in about the contract on her.

She then added her Dad and did a handsome stick drawing of him. And finally, she did a stick figure of herself.

“You finished?” I asked.

She thought for a moment, “No.”

She then began to draw another girl. She was figure skating and had a big smile on her face.

“Who is that?” I inquired when she had done.

“You! You told me you love to ice skate.”

“I did, didn’t I?” I hugged her. I then wrote in crayon each name, ‘Daddy, Mommy, Miranda, and then Samantha.’ “Here, go show it to your Dad.” She ran up to him and he hugged her and admired her drawing.

“What made you think of that, Samantha?” Jane said.

“I don’t know. I just thought it would help.”

The night wasn’t complete until I had read her another chapter of Pippi Longstocking. Dad and Mr. Murphy watched as I read to her. Once again, she fell asleep and I put down the book and quietly left the room.

Dad hugged and kissed me good night and headed downstairs with Mr. Murphy. They seemed to be really hitting it off well. Jane came up to get a few things out of her room. We talked in the hallway.

“How is staying at Doug’s place?”

“Nice. His folks are really focused right now, as usual, I hear. They say they are making huge breakthroughs. Poor guy. He hardly sees them. I am glad we can be there for him.”

“So am I. I notice you haven’t dated much lately. Why?”

“I don’t know. I think I am wanting to find someone. I liked what you said about the loneliest place being in the arms of another. I want a companion, not someone who just loves my body. I found by Christmas, it wasn’t as much fun as it used to be. The boys are growing up. They expect more and I don’t want to deliver something without getting something worth while in return.”

“You mean like a handsome brother-in-law?” I asked suggestively.

I took her arm and we went downstairs for a glass of milk and a long sister chat filled with giggles, gossip, and girl talk.

“So, your major is now accounting?”

“Yes, Dad has said there are several jobs open for bookkeeping for the city every year and I could get a good, steady entry level job when I graduate. So, it looks like I am going to be out on my own after I graduate. All I need to do if find someone who has a future after university and I could look at starting a family too.”

The following afternoon, Jane, Miranda, Grandma, and I were babysitting the triplets next door. Well, not exactly, it was more of a get together of the women. The men were assembled back at the house. Dad, Grandpa, Doug, Bill, Harvey (Mr. Smith) and Chris were playing poker with monopoly money.

The winner of the day would get a trophy. It was a lamp that looked like a leg. It was from the movie ‘A Christmas Story.’ They were having potato chips and root beer. It was a friendly game and they were bonding. Whoever had the most money by the end of the night won the lamp. The ladies won the chance to tease the winner.

We were having fun. We would talk weather, then vacations, then fashion, and then whatever. It was more akin to a gab fest than babysitting. I felt privileged to be part of the discussions and joined in some of them too.

A knock came at the door. Mrs. Smith opened it and ushered in Mrs. Allen with Samantha in her arms.

“You really were the first person to hold her first?” Miranda looked at me with admiration.

We got on the floor and I held Samantha while Jane and Miranda played with the triplets.

“Yes. It was so exciting to hold a little life in my hands and pass her to her mother. I felt so special.”

“Derek is about to head back to work on the oil rigs in the gulf. He has used as much vacation time as he can. I won’t see him for six months.”

“I’m glad he was here for the birth of Samantha.” Mom said.

“Would you mind coming over and helping me too, Samantha? I can use the help. You saw how well Derek handles housekeeping.”

I giggled. “Of course.”

“You can also bring her over to Miller Day Care. We seem to enjoy having babies in the house. We are getting ready for future expansion. Right Jane?”

“Mom! Please!” Jane blushed and let Brian sleep on her shoulder.

A knock came at the door and in came Doug. “Mr. Allen took my place at the table. Can we turn on the television? There is news on CNN that will be of interest to Miranda.”

The television was turned on and the reporters were talking about the usual stuff. War, politics, etc. Then they started a story about Denver.

The CNN reporter said, “Federal prosecutor John Redburn was arrested today along with members of the O’Reilly syndicate based out of Boston charged with conspiracy to obstruct justice and attempted murder. They were caught in a rather intricate plot to remove a federal prosecutor and allow Redburn to be the lead attorney prosecuting the head of the O’Reilly family for his embezzlement of Teamster’s trust money. His name is Ian O’Reilly. It appears Redburn was going to deliberately throw the trial through a procedural error, blame it on a subordinate, and frustrate justice in the process. Details of how they found out are not forthcoming.”

“So, it is over. Miranda, you can go home now.” Doug said. My mouth was hanging open. I was losing my little sister.

She looked over at me and burst into shouts of joy and screamed. “I get to see my Mommy again.” And then just as quickly, she turned sad when she saw my face and started to tear up. “But that means I will have to say goodbye to you.”

“And I will have to say goodbye to you too.” I went over and held her tenderly. “If I ever wanted to know what it was like to have a younger sister, you answered that question. And the answer is that I would love to have a little sister like you.”

She looked up at me and smiled. “Will you come visit?”

“I hope so!” Mr. Murphy walked in time to hear the question. “We owe you!”

“Well, Sir, my brother does go to CSU, so it is likely I could stop by one of these days.”

“Please do. I just talked to my wife, and she would love to thank you in person. She loved the pictures. I just talked to your Mommy, Miranda. She is very happy to have this whole thing over with. We are making plans to go home tomorrow. So, you will get one more night with Samantha and then we go home.”

Doug, Miranda, and I followed them back into our house.

Dad put his hand on Mr. Murphy’s shoulder. “And then your vacation ends.”

“Yeah, it was nice to have live in help, Paul.” He winked at me. “Nice to be around guys too.”

Grandpa said, “Do you hunt, Donovan?”

“Sure do. Why do you ask?”

“Well, we could come out and do some hunting. We do, after all, have a built in babysitter who would love to take care of your little darling while we are gone.”

I looked up at my Grandpa and smiled. “C’mon Miranda. Let’s go play.”

When I finished reading a chapter of Pippi Longstocking that evening and closed the book, I reflected on what had been a wonderful week. Miranda had more than visited. She had given me a chance to go back in time and be a little girl, the little girl I knew I was so many years ago.

Now, I had to prepare for Evelyn’s visit. I had one more visit with Erin before I was ready for volunteer work. I had another visit to the endocrinologist to make adjustments.

Erin had me go into an exam room which she rarely used. Because of the need to do a yearly physical, she would do it for me. Her nurse was in attendance. “Okay Samantha, I need to do a few things. Please take off your dress.”

I took off my dress. She proceeded to give me a physical. She stopped and filled out some forms. I was weighed and she measure my height. She looked into my eyes and checked my hearing. The physical was complete and I got dressed again and headed to her spacious office where I prepared tea before our usual session.

“All right. Samantha, I want you to start wearing camisoles. Soon, your nipples are going to start getting sensitive. They are already starting to show signs of changing. In the good news department, you are following the same track as your sister and mother. You will be skinny for a bit longer. I had an idle chat with your sister and she mentioned how she was frustrated until she was fourteen and her breasts finally showed up.”

She went on to say, “Just to recap, you had a lot of time with the men in your life. How did it make you feel.”

“More like a girl while at the same time admiring men more than ever before. They are wonderful creatures.”

“Yes they are. I love my husband so much. I like that he is a good man. He is very kind to me and romantic too. I think a woman who appreciates masculinity is a complete woman. But, I really come from a Ying and Yang philosophy when it comes to gender. So, you babysat a four year old this week. How was that experience.”

“Wonderful. I loved having a little sister all week. And, tomorrow, my cousins come and I get to take care of a four year old boy and a seven year old girl all week.” I was so excited.

“Now, you know you won’t be able to get pregnant and have children of your own?” she said with a note of caution.

I told her what Jane said just a few days earlier.

“Interesting. I wonder if she knows.”

“Knows what?”

“I wonder if Jane knows you are going to transition into being a girl and she won’t see Sam again. She just gave you a blank check to make it easier to decide.”

“You mean she will understand my wanting to become a girl?”

“Sounds like it. You said she stopped dating, right?”

“Yes. I don’t see how that fits into the picture.”

Erin grinned and sat back in her chair taking a sip of tea. “You are too close to her to notice. She knows that if she is going to donate eggs, it would be best for her not to have any entanglements. For instance, a husband or boyfriend who says he doesn’t want his kids to be related to their cousins as half brother or half sister.”

“Oh.” I started to process what she was saying. “Oh no, you mean ...”

“Yes. I suspect she is about to start egg donations on your behalf. Although she could stay on birth control and do it, it would be best if she weren’t on birth control. And if she isn’t on birth control, she would not want to date. So, it is just a guess, but I think Jane is taking time off from dating to donate eggs to a bank. I wouldn’t bring this up to her. But, trust me. She is up to something. And something wonderful.”

I closed my eyes and took a sip of tea enjoying the taste. “My sister loves me.” escaped my lips.

“Yes, she does. And it sounds like she has made a decision to support you when the time comes for you to tell your parents who you really are. Oh, one other thing. If you find her testing her urine with pregnancy tests or something similar, don’t say anything. Just ignore them. You look the other way and miss why she wants to go to a doctor’s office or something like that. Find a way to make yourself scarce and pretend you don’t understand.”

I sighed deeply with a feeling of peace. Jane was making sure I would have a family of my own. What a kind sister I have. I began to cry happy tears.

“Just let those tears flow, Samantha. You have earned them.”

I sniffled and kept crying happy tears, “You think so?”

“Yes, I do. Girl or boy, you are one of the nicest and sweetest patients I have ever had. The one thing that is obvious about Jane is how much she really loves you.”

I quietly said, “Squeak, squeak,” while Erin was filling the pot with hot water. She made a pot of tea to replace the one we had just gone through, poured my tea, and just let me sit there and cry as I reflected on Jane’s gift to my future. Erin passed me a few tissues. Then, she leaned back and just watched me with a big smile on her face. It was matched by the smile on my own.

I closed my eyes, kept crying, but felt warm all over and loved by my sisters.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[author’s note:

Writing is continuing to catch me by surprise. Jane caught me completely off guard. At first, I thought she stopped dating because she was tired of it. And then I had to ask her what she was really up to.

Next visit to D.C.. Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

– AuP ]

Chapter 18 – Spring Break

“Mom, did I just hear you right? You think I should dress more girly?” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. I never expected this to be our discussion over lunch. Dad was off running some errands and then off to Nashville to pick up my Aunt, my Uncle, and my cousins. It was just us girls. If anything, I expected Mom to say dress less like a girl, not more.

“Yes, Samantha, I did say dress more like a girl, not less.”

“Okay, I don’t mind, but I am a bit surprised. May I at least know why I am being asked to be more girly?”

“Because your sister made an excellent observation to me yesterday. She commented that when you change back into being a boy, anyone whom you have met as a girl might be able to recognize you more easily because I worked it so you were less girly. But, if I allow you go more girly now, you stand a better chance of them not finding out about your past.”

“Mom, that isn’t all I said.” Jane said.

“Yes, I know dear, but she is still my child and I am responsible for her. And ...”

“Mom, you know very well what I mean.”

“Okay, I see your point. Samantha, what your sister says is that I need to relax a few rules. She feels you need to be trusted more to explore.”

“I thought I was trusted.” I was confused.

Mom looked at Jane. “Your right. She doesn’t understand. You two are really too far apart in age for her to remember.” She looked back at me. “Honey, when Jane was your age, I allowed her to do things. One, I gave her the freedom to redo her room within reason. Two, I gave her leeway on finding clothes that made her look good and feel pretty. In that respect, Jane has pointed out correctly that I have sabotaged you. While I have picked out clothing that works and looks respectable on you, I haven’t, with the exception of the funeral dress, allowed you the option of having clothes that look very pretty on you. To excuse the pun, and in the words of your sister, I have wanted you to be a plain Jane.”

I snickered. “Aw, Mom, it’s okay. I haven’t really minded.”

“I appreciate your not feeling slighted, but, Jane is right. You have been. And I ask for your forgiveness.”

I got up and went over to Mom and we hugged. “Mom, of course you have it. I just don’t think you have done anything wrong.”

“Pipsqueak, what we are saying is that you need to, as you put to me, find your own ‘style.’ You would be doing the same thing if you were still Sam the boy. And Mom would have let you. It is normal at your age to want to start expressing yourself. And, whether we like it or not, even as a girl, you need to be expressing yourself.”

“You see, honey, what I forget is that it is normal to experiment with your surroundings and your clothes. I think you need that latitude or else you won’t grow and mature. But, I only insist that you be tasteful.”

“Mom, thank you.” I thought for a moment about what she said. “Do you think we can go to the poster and framing store in the mall first?”

“Sure honey. Why?” Mom was intrigued.

“There is this Pierre-Auguste Renoir reproduction of two girls at a piano I have been wanting for my room. But, I have been too afraid to ask. I like it because it reminds me of the times I have been at the piano with another girl at school. And there are a few others.” Mom looked at Jane. Jane nodded as if to say, ‘See, I told you so.’

Jane then smiled and winked at me. So, after a quick lunch, we went to the mall. Mom and I ended up getting posters of “In The Meadow (Picking Flowers)” and “Young Girls at a Piano” by Renoir, “Garden Path at Giverny” by Monet, and, at the last moment, I grabbed “Dance at Bougival” by Renoir. Then we went into Sears and purchased a white comforter bedspread with a spring flower print. With it, we bought green sheets and I asked for a couple of pillows with lace around them. We also bought antique looking cranberry crystal lamps to put on my dresser. In addition, we got lace doilies to go on my furniture. Finally, I got flower print towels for me. Mom quickly figured out that I love flowers. I think she was very happy I wasn’t going Gothic or something even stranger.

Finally, we bought a cot to set up in my room for Tristan. Then some bedding for it too. And we were done. Then we stopped at an office store and bought some foam board and adhesive to mount the posters on.

Once home, Jane helped me redo my room. First, we mounted the posters to the foam board, cut them to size. Then we took wood trim, mitered it, and stapled simple frames around the mounted and trimmed posters. It felt like we were actually doing a Martha Stewart show project. Upstairs, I took down Rick Wakeman, rolled him up, and put him in my closet. Jane looked at me. “Are you sure? You have had that poster up forever.”

“Yes, I think it is time for a change.” I giggled. “I have found a picture of Justin Hayward in a flower print shirt from a performance of ‘Forever Autumn’ he did in the late 70s that I will order to replace Rick. Doug found it for me on that new website, Ebay. He promised to try and get it for me.”

“I sense a theme.” Jane said. She smiled and said, “I like it, Pipsqueak.”

“Squeak, squeak.” Jane smiled ear to ear.

The posters were sweet, charming, and beautifully lightened up my room giving it a spring like feel and loads of color. As we did the the new sheets, bedspread and new pillows, the room was completely changed not only in mood, but a real change from the austere room it had been before. My room was definitely brighter and more feminine. Yet, it was also classy and elegant. I knew I would make further changes. But this was a good start.

Mom came in to take a look. “My, my Samantha. I love it. I am very surprised. I expected you to go with a teenage theme. The latest boy band or something. This is more like what I would expect an adult to have in their room.”

“I saw them in the mall a little while ago while I had time to kill waiting for you all to show up for portraits. I fell in love with them. They were so beautiful and serene. I couldn’t get them out of my mind.”

Mom mused, “Well, they really make this a lovely room. And I am not surprised.”

“Why, Mom?”

“Because, when you were five, you cut yourself breaking a rose off a bush and brought the rose to me. It was adorable to be given a rose by my little boy. Even if it meant I had to do first aid too.”

“I remember that Pipsqueak. You loved the smell of the rose too. After you broke it off the bush, you would twirl every time you sniffed it and giggle. Then I told you to take it inside to Mommy and you skipped inside.”

I hugged my Mom. “Thank you for indulging me. I really do love flowers.” She helped do the finishing touches on the room and made some good suggestions on how to arrange the room with the cot in it.

After we had finished, we headed downstairs to start working on dinner. We soon heard Dad come in with my Uncle Robert, Aunt Sandra, and my two cousins, Tristan and Evelyn. I had a flower print canvas apron we bought too and I was peeling potatoes when Evelyn came bouncing into the kitchen and saw me.

“Samantha, it’s you!” She ran up to me. “What you doing?”

“Helping prepare dinner, silly.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and hugged her. “I am so happy to see you again too.”

Jane came over from having worked on a pork tenderloin roast. She just put it into the oven. “Hello Evelyn, I am your cousin Jane.” They hugged.

“Wow, you two sure look alike, Samantha. I can tell you are sisters. I mean ...”

“It is okay, Evelyn. But, you have been told. You aren’t to mention who Samantha really is.” Mom corrected her.

“Will I be staying in your room, Samantha?”

“I am not sure yet. I think Tristan will be in mine and you will be staying in Jane’s.”

“That is the plan.” Mom said.

“Samantha, what a pretty apron on such a pretty girl.” My Aunt and Uncle came in with their luggage. Aunt Sandra came over to the table where I was peeling potatoes and hugged me. “You look so happy in the kitchen too.”

“What can I say. I love to cook. How was your flight?” I said.

“A bit bumpy, but on the whole, a decent flight.” Uncle Robert went on to say, “The airport was packed with college kids going to Florida. I had to laugh. I saw a few of my students.”

Dad came around, “We have a lot planned for us this week. It should be a fun trip for you even though we don’t have beaches filled with drunken students..”

“Uncle, do I get to do dress up with Samantha?”

“Yes, and I get to join you.” Jane interjected.

The phone rang, Mom picked it up, “Hello. Oh, hi Bill. What can do we do for you? Nothing much, her cousins just showed up. It is spring break. Yeah, we plan to do a picnic tomorrow, would that work? Sure, bring her, I don’t need to ask Samantha, tell her we would love to have her, especially if you think it would help her. Ten O’Clock at Forest Park. Here, let me check. Yes, we rented Ramada twelve for the day up until four. Oh no, we will have more than enough food. We are going to do kite flying and crafts for the kids. Yes, we have extra so she can do them too. See you, and your lovely wife finally, and your new charge then.”

Mom hung up and came over to talk to me. “Well, you up for a little visit from Arlene tomorrow?”

“Oh, that would be nice. Is she joining us for our picnic?” I asked sounding a bit surprised.

“Yes. Bill says that they are her foster parents right now. Their nine year old has a baseball game tomorrow and they don’t want her to be bored. They thought she might like to spend time with you instead. So, Bill’s going to drop off his wife and Arlene. They will join us for the picnic. It works out since it is a double header for Timothy.”

“Who is Arlene, Samantha?” Evelyn asked sounding a bit left out of it.

“She is an eight year old girl whom I met last week volunteering for the police. She is in foster care right now and feeling lonely. And, most importantly, she doesn’t know who I really am. So, tomorrow, no comments about Samuel, okay?”

“Cool! I turn eight in two weeks. So, we are almost the same age.”

The evening went well. Lots of talking. They decided because of Arlene to not bring beer to the picnic. And, I told them about the ice cream, so after an early dinner, I made some ice cream with the help of Jane and Evelyn. It was chocolate with chocolate chips in it. My smart dad went out and got dry ice to get the ice cream its coldest and for the picnic. I used a custard base so it was rich, thick, and delicious. I made about three gallons. While doing that, I also made some fudge brownies and rice krispie treats.

Upstairs, we found that Tristan had gotten up and fallen asleep in Jane’s trundle bed. He didn’t like cots, it seemed. Evelyn was thrilled. When she walked into my room, she swooned. “Oh Samantha, those pictures are so pretty. I love your room.”

“Thanks, my Mom just let me do it.”

“But, it isn’t very boy like? Are you going to keep it this way once you change back?” Evelyn asked.

“I’ll probably keep the ‘Garden Path at Giverny’ painting. I love the color. You can almost feel the coolness of Spring and the fresh breeze with the sound of bees buzzing. I just want to open that door and move in to the house.”

Mom stepped into the room as I was asked and answered the question, “I’ll take the rest for our room. But I hadn’t really looked at any of the paintings, Samantha. Yes, I can see that. It is a very restful painting, sweetie.”

I continued my tour of my little art gallery. “And look at Renoir’s painting of the two girls at piano. I love the look of the girl as she holds the page of music trying out the music on the piano. She is studying how to play the piece and possibly sing it too. You can see in her face the music coming alive. And the girl standing next to her, you can see her playing the music in her mind too. They are engrossed by what they are doing and loving it at the same time.”

“Oh, I see that.” Evelyn said.

“And I love the expression of the young lady in ‘Dance at Bougival.’ She knows he is totally in love with her and yet she is looking away with a tender look. I wonder if she is thinking of how to let him down easily or is just thinking of how much in love with him she is or if she is just into the dance. They are lost in each others arms for different reasons and it is just fun to think about those reasons. I like creating a story where she has just broken his heart and he is hiding his tears as they dance. Then another story where he sweeps her off her feet and they live happily ever after.” I sounded melodramatic.

“How about the two girls in the meadow? What is their story?” Mom inquired.

“Oh, I think they are talking about their boyfriends and wishing they would bring them flowers. They look like the same girls at the piano. They are gossiping for sure. We can’t see their faces full on because the artist chose to paint them looking away from the canvas. You can see the one girl’s face a little as she arranges the daises. But, that makes what they are saying all the more interesting as the only thing we can see is the softness of spring enfolding these two young girls in its magical embrace of color and gentleness. Then they are facing down a long road in the distance. It is like their future is out in front of them and in arranging the flowers they are arranging their future too.”

“Your are going to have a hard time getting rid of these, aren’t you?” Mom said with a smirk.

“Yeah, Mom. I love each for different reasons. And I enjoy their color and beauty. I may just collect more and switch them out according to my mood. Kind of like my own art gallery.” I said thoughtfully.

Mom picked up on my serene mood. “I like your art gallery too. And the curator is a really special lady. I forgot to ask, did you want a boom box too?”

Her question brought me out of my curator role real fast. “Oh, please Mom! May I? Maybe with a CD player too. I would love some Beethoven CDs. I would love to listen to his 2nd symphony when doing homework. And Strauss has so many more waltzes I would like to listen to for ice dancing. And, I really want to learn to play Chopin. His piano pieces are brilliant.”

Mom chuckled and hugged me, “Okay, okay, I think that can be arranged.”

Jane was listening in at my door and I hadn’t noticed because of being lost in the paintings. “See Mom, I told you not to worry.” Jane teased, “I just hope I can sleep with all that loud heavy metal orchestra booming down the hallway.”

“Consider it an invitation to come and join me in my art gallery.” I ventured trying to sound artistic without being snobbish.

“I will, Pipsqueak.”

“Squeak, squeak.”

“I love you too, night.”

Evelyn and I settled down for a good nights sleep. I let her sleep in my bed. Guests should always come first, I think. Even if they are family. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. I, on the other hand, sat there thinking about what kind of clothes I would love to have. Mom moved me more into jeans. The truth was that I loved skirts and dresses. Still, capris and jeans were more practical at school. But, it occurred to me that I could do more with my tops and accessories. My head was swimming with possibilities.

Finally, after ten minutes of debate, I got up and went downstairs for a glass of water and to get my mind off of clothes. While deep in thought, I heard a voice call my name. “Oh, Aunt Sandra, I’m sorry. I was deep in thought.”

“About what?”

“Clothes. What to wear at school.”

“That is hardly worthy of deep thought.”

“Well, it is just that I can’t figure out why girls aren’t wearing dresses as much as I would expect. It is almost as though dresses weren’t for girls anymore.”

“How do you feel when you wear a dress?”

“Actually, I like it. They are very comfortable. But they are also a lot of hard work. You have to keep your legs together and watch out for breezes. Except, the long dresses I made for doing Shakespeare. They were different. It was like walking naked inside a tent. Nice, but different.”

“Well, there you have it. Dresses require work. But, there is something else you should consider. You are thin and because of your sex, you have a model’s body. Come to think of it, so does Jane and your Mom. Dresses and skirts look good on you.”

After chatting a little while longer, I went back up to bed and fell asleep right away.

It was chaos getting to the park. Logistics required the dry ice containers be in the bed of a truck and we didn’t have a truck. So, we drove to the park with all our windows down. That meant I had to comb out my hair again at the park while helping carry all the goodies to the Ramada.

About 10:30, Mrs. Watson arrived with Arlene. Arlene was timid. She looked like she was having second thoughts about coming. So, I ran over as fast as I could and hugged her. “Arlene, I am so happy you came. Can I introduce you to everyone, please?”

The ice seemed to melt. “See, Honey. They knew you were coming. They want you here.”

“Darn right!” I said. “I don’t often get a chance to show off my whole family to my friends.”

“I’m your friend. But I thought I was so mean to you and you would never talk to me again.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly in the nicest of places. On the whole, I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”

She took my hand and we sat down on a park bench. “How could I? I was scared. You came in and cared about me. Uncle Bill has explained to me that you have helped a lot of girls. He even says one of the girls you helped died of cancer.”

A few more tears ran down my face, “Yes, that is true, I do know someone who died of cancer. So, how can I help you?”

Arlene touched my tear and looked at me with sad eyes. I could see her melt. She lowered her eyes.

“My counselor tells me that maybe I should get to know a family that is healthy so I can help change my own. When I mentioned that I had met a girl who said she had a nice family and told her your name, she smiled and said I should get to know your family if I get the chance.”

“What is your counselor’s name, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Dr. Erin Cramer. Why, do you know her?”

“I know her very well, yes. Professional ethics prevented her from telling you that she is my counselor too.”

“What do you need her for? You are so sane and normal.”

“Many reasons. Because of my friend who died of cancer. Because of wanting to help girls. She helps me in so many ways. And my family insists that I see her so I can stay sane and normal. I would go to see her just for the tea parties we have alone!” I giggled and pretended to drink a cup of tea.

“I wish she had told me.”

I had to be redundant. “Patient privacy rights. She knew I would tell you. Just because I have a healthy family doesn’t mean I don’t need to talk to someone about my problems and how I feel. I think you can trust Dr. Cramer.”

I gave her a hug. She hugged me back.

“I think we should go join the family and I can introduce you to everyone. It sounds like we will have plenty of time to discuss things more today.”

I began my introductions. “Arlene, this is my cousin Evelyn and her cute little brother Tristan.”

“Hi Arlene. I am going to turn eight next week. We will be the same age. This is my annoying brother, Tristan.”

“Hi Evelyn and Tristan.”

“My sister is the one that is annoying. She even tried to convince that Samantha was a boy. You lied!”

“Well, we tried, didn’t we Evelyn.” I winked at her. She and I giggled. Inside, I said ‘wow, I dodged a bullet.’

Tristan came up to me and hugged me. I picked him up and held him as I introduced the rest of the family.

“And this is Doug, my unofficial brother and his girlfriend and my best friend Mary.”

“Unofficial brother?”

Mary said, “Yeah, he is over at their house so often, they kind of have adopted him as a kid.”

“And here is my sister, Jane.”

“Hi Arlene, we are so glad you could come.

Mom and Dad were talking to Mrs. Watson. “Voici mes parents, ma Mere et Mon Pere.”

“Excuse me, did you just say something in another language?”

“Oops, I have recited that line so often in my ‘French in Action’ course, it just came out. I mean, this is my Mom and My Dad, Arlene.”

“Hello Arlene, thank you for coming.” My Mom was as gracious as could be and hugged her.

“Arlene, this is my Uncle Robert and Aunt Sandra.” They smiled and waved.

“And finally, my Grandpa Miller and my Grandma Miller.” They nodded their heads and waved.

Dad came up to us and said, “Are ready for the birdhouse project?”

“Yes, Daddy. It is really so exciting.” I couldn’t wait to start.

Arlene asked, “What project is this?”

“My Dad works for the city. The park here needs new birdhouses. They put them in the trees to encourage and protect nesting birds. With spring starting, they want birds to have new homes. So, we are building as many birdhouses as we can for the next few hours until lunch.”

We parked ourselves in front of a picnic bench with hammers and pre-cut wooden parts and started to assemble them. Dad took full command. He gave each of us a part we could handle. He showed Arlene, Evelyn, and myself how to hammer the pieces together that we were assigned. We formed an assembly line with each of working on the same part. Pretty soon, we were cranking out a birdhouse about every four or five minutes. In an hour and a half, we put together about twenty birdhouses and were done.

We gave each other a high five. Arlene said, “Wow, that was fun. We make a good team, don’t we?”

“Yes we do!” Mrs. Watson said. “This was a fun idea.”

About that time, a park ATV pulled up. “Hey Paul, you finished. Awesome! We can’t thank you enough.”

“Good timing Frank, we can help you load them up.” We put all of our work in the wagon hitched to the ATV. Frank then came over with coupons to visit the local science museum for free.

“So, Arlene, the next time you visit this park, you will be able to see birds nesting in a birdhouse you helped build. How does that make you feel?” Mrs. Watson said.

“It makes me feel good.”

“That is how Samantha feels when she helps someone too.” she said. I nodded in agreement. “I just want you to know that when we help you, it doesn’t bother us. Shakespeare has this famous quote, ‘The quality of mercy is not strained. It blesses both the giver and the taker.’ Helping someone is a form of mercy. The bible even says that among faith, hope, and love, the greatest thing is love.”

“Does that mean I have to help you or else you won’t help me?”

“No, Arlene. Not at all. It means that when we help you, we get blessed. You don’t have to pay us back unless you want to pay us back. It is called unconditional love. You don’t have to earn it.”

“We hope that you learn that by doing for others, you will be blessed too and in turn can enjoy those benefits of unconditional love that we have. Unconditional love is sometimes called mercy or charity.”

“Samantha, is that why you came to help at the police station?”

“Yes. But, to tell you the truth, I didn’t know I was doing it out of unconditional love or mercy. I just enjoyed doing it because I love helping. Thank you, Mrs Watson, I learned something new today.” I gave her a hug.

Mrs. Watson beamed. “Thank you, Samantha, I have a book I would like to lend you. Will you promise me to read it?”

“Sure. I love to read a good story. What is the book?”

“Well, it is a true story. It is of a woman who greatly influenced my life and I think will be a good role model for you too. Her name was Golda Meir. She was the Prime Minister of Israel from 1969 to 1974. And she wrote an autobiography called ‘My Life.’ I think you will find it inspiring.”

Mrs. Watson pulled a book from her purse. It was a hardback book that was clearly decades old. I opened the cover and found that it was signed ‘Golda Meir’ in very shaky hand writing. “I want it back. But, I trust you. Besides, I can collect it during one of your fantastic dinners, Samantha. I have been hearing about them from Bill.”

“Deal. But only if you bring Timothy along. I like him.”

Arlene said, “You are right. Timothy is a sweetheart. He has made me feel very welcome. If I am not back with my family yet, can I come to the dinner too?”

“Yup.”

Dad and Uncle Robert announced that the hamburgers and hot dogs were cooked. We picked up our paper plates and filed through a line getting food and filling our plates with hamburgers, potato salad, and beans. At each of the tables were cups with ice and bottles of soda. Arlene and I sat down with Mary, Doug, Evelyn, Tristan, and Jane at one table while the adults congregated at another table.

After it was all eaten, Arlene was thrilled to hear there was chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips. “Do they have to check to see if there is a file in it?” she asked sarcastically.

“No.” I giggled.

Jane embarrassed me with her next comment. “Arlene, Samantha made the ice cream herself. Want some?”

“Sure, I would love some.” She quickly went up to Jane who had just opened up the metal container I made the ice cream in.

As Jane scooped out ice cream for Arlene, she went on to say, “Did you know that Samantha stayed up late last night to make this ice cream just for you. I have no idea why, do you?”

Arlene began to tear up. “Because I asked for some at the police station, I suppose.”

“Exactly, Arlene. Because she knew it meant something to you and that would feel welcome and know that you are loved.” Jane handed her back the bowl filled with ice cream. “So, just know this ice cream has a special ingredient in it called love. And that is what makes it taste so good.” Jane hugged her. “I love stories with happy beginnings.”

A moment later, Tristan cried out. “Mommy, I don’t want ice cream. It makes you cry like a girl!” He pulled away from the gaggle of crying and giggling girls. Running to his dad, he quickly hid behind his leg and just stared at us.

The rest of the afternoon went splendidly. Soon, Bill showed up with Timothy and we all had brownies. Jane didn’t mention that I made them too. I think she had made her point and knew it didn’t need to be made again.

The next day, I had a project to do in the morning. Dean and I were going to start working on an ice dance routine starting the next week. I really wanted us to look the part for the music our instructor had chosen. She choose ‘There is nothing like a dame’ from South Pacific. It is one of my favorite movies. I cry at the end when the nurse is given French lessons and the hero shows up.

“Hi Dean, I am glad you could come. Come on in. Let’s get you measured for your sailor outfit. Hi Mrs. Pilsner. This is my cousin Evelyn.”

“Samantha, I didn’t know you ice skated. I hope you come for Christmas and we can ice skate together.”

Dean piped up and made a face to Evelyn, “O-Oh no y-you don’t. I-I w-want to ice s-skate with h-her for C-Christmas.”

“We’ll just have to see about that?!” Evelyn said defiantly.

Dean stood on the platform and I began to measure him. He had changed so much from the fall when he first asked me to dance. He was quickly becoming a man. I looked at his face and the baby fat was turning into the chiseled features of a young man with a smile that could melt a girl’s heart if it were made of ice. My heart, however, was not. So, I worried if it was really safe for me to measure him. I was grateful his mother and my cousin were present. That didn’t mean it was easy. Having to look at him in the eye while I pulled the tape around him was excruciatingly hard without wanting to ask him to wrap those strong arms around me and pull me into his chest and kiss me.

I gave Evelyn his numbers. “His neck is fourteen inches.” I measured his waist and then went to measure his inseam. That turned out to be a bit embarrassing. I could tell as I measured it that he was, for lack of a better word, a bit excited. I ignored it. “Inseam is twenty-nine inches.” And I thought in passing in my head, ‘plus a good seven inches I bet.’ I caught my breath and turned a deep red as I looked down at his shoes and fiddled with his pant cuff. And then I felt my breasts and my loins tingle. I took a deep breath again and remembered what Doug said. I had to control my impulses and not lose control.

I collected myself and pondered the pant cuffs. “I don’t know whether or not I should do pant cuffs. It would be more sailor like, but they could get caught on my skates. What do you think Mrs. Pilsner?”

I looked back up at her. She had been watching me and had a wry grin. She knew her son was reacting in a way boys do and she had see me notice too. “Well, Samantha, I think the most important thing is to look at it from the point of view of the audience. Are they going to see a sailor or not?”

“Cuffs it is then.” I looked back up into his dreamy eyes. “Dean, I will make pants that look like jeans and a roped belt, but they will have built in elastic. Then I will make a blue denim shirt with a flesh colored tank top on the inside to keep you warm and give you the look of having a little chest hair. Are you okay with the design?”

“Y-yes, I l-like i-it. W-What is y-your o-outfit going to l-look l-like?”

“I am going to have a top that looks like it is part of a one piece bathing suit. Well, actually, it will be a one piece with flesh colored netting. It will look like a red bathing suit. Then I will have a short white skirt around my waist. With the blue denim of your outfit, it ought to look very cute and together we will look patriotic. Underneath it all, I will have a flesh toned body suit.”

“I am sure it will look very nice Samantha. When will you have Dean’s outfit ready?” Mrs. Pilsner said with a grin.

“If he could come by Wednesday night for dinner, along with his parents, I might add, we can check the fit.” I got up and put down my measuring tape on the sewing machine table. I confirmed that Evelyn wrote down all the figures I needed for making his costume.

Mrs. Pilsner grinned. She knew I couldn’t ask him for a date outright. “Have you checked with your parents about our coming on Wednesday.”

Dad walked in and interrupted, “We are the ones who suggested it, Claudia.” Dad was followed by Tristan. Tristan knew I was a softy. He ran up to me and wanted me to pick him up. I cheerfully gave in. I didn’t hold him all the time, but when he was tired, I was a welcoming refuge.

Dean smiled at him. “Hi, w-what is y-your n-name?”

“I’m Tristan. I am four years old.” He began to yawn uncontrollably.

“I think somebody needs to go down for a nap.” I said.

“No, I don’t.” Tristan pouted and didn’t look happy.

I looked at Dean and his mother, “It’s okay honey. We understand. Duty calls. You are going to make a fine mother some day, Samantha.” Mrs. Pilsner was enjoying seeing me with a child. I knew in the back of her mind, that I may be holding her grandchild one day. And I knew that my sister was going to make that possible.

“Thank you, Mrs. Pilsner. That is very kind of you to say. Sorry Dean, I will see you on Wednesday night.” I gave him a half hug. After they left, I took Tristan upstairs to my room to put him down for a nap on the cot. I told him the story about the three little pigs and he fell asleep. I brushed his hair out of his face and looked at the angel in repose. He was a sweet boy. He reminded me of my Robert.

After I got him to sleep, I looked over at my dresser. On it was a modest Sony boombox with a cassette and CD player. I was excited to see and didn’t know how it got there. I heard a chuckle coming from the door. It was my Dad. I rushed over to him and gave him a big hug and said softly, “Thank you Daddy! And you got me a great selection of music too I bet. Now I won’t have to use our stereo system anymore downstairs.”

We walked over to the boombox and I looked over the pile of CDs. I put in Beethoven’s third symphony performed by Bernstein and set the volume low. I closed my eyes as the movement began. We stood there for a moment. “Oh, Daddy, this is so wonderful. Can you hear the wistful horns as they play with the strings. I love this movement. It sounds like the strings and horns are talking to each other.”

“Samantha, I so am so lucky to have you. Why do you love classical music and art so much? You ought to be into the latest rock and roll band.”

I listened to the music for a moment more before I replied. I hit the stop button. “I guess because it makes me feel alive. It is like I am hearing a whole story being told. The songs on the radio only last a few minutes and tell me shallow stories about boy loses girl or boy gets girl. But, when I listen to classical music, it is like I get to hear a complete life story filled with all the nuances of life. There is birth, romance, love, pain, joy, and death.”

I held onto my Dad. I rested my head on his chest and listened to him breath. “And as I listen to the music, I think about the people I love. I love you Daddy so very much. I am a lucky girl.”

He hugged me back. “I love you too, Princess.” He caressed my hair and I could almost hear him sniffle. “Seems to me that I owe you an ice cream. I am sorry I forgot the other day.”

“It’s okay Daddy, time with you is my real treat. Ice cream is just an excuse.” With that I felt another kiss on the head and a sniffle.

In the morning, Grandma picked me up to take me to the fabric store. Evelyn tagged along. I picked out fabric for our outfits and thread. I got a few other supplies and patterns for our outfits. Then Evelyn and I spent time on finding fabric for our baseball outfits. She was enjoying the idea of going to Fenway finally. She didn’t think I had to come out after all. I mean, she still wanted me to come out, but she wanted to do other stuff with me other than baseball. That was going to be her Dad time. I could understand that. Still, she did want a nice outfit to go to the ball park with her Dad. So, I found a pattern and some fabric. We headed home.

Before we headed home, we stopped off at a Border’s bookstore. Grandma wanted us to find three books a piece. She sat down reading a magazine in a chair near the check out counter and we began wandering around the bookstore looking for books we would want. Evelyn headed to the kid’s section and I found myself looking in the fiction section. I was looking for something by Dickens or maybe Hugo.

When I turned the corner, I saw Cat from my old school. Cat was the coolest dude at school and at the same time in a different world from the rest of us. Like a cat, he ran in a pack all by himself. Austere and bohemian, stylish and unkempt, he cut a different path from the way he looked to the way he walked. He was an enigma, a loner who lives in a world unto himself, while, yet, at the same time is the most social and approachable person I had ever known. No bully picked on him. And no wimp feared his approach. He never got into trouble for the usual reasons. Everyone liked him and wanted to be his friend. I thought he never noticed me until one day he approached me at school and said hi. I was awestruck that he even noticed me. Every time I encountered him at school, he was as polite and nice to me as he could be that I relished those few moments. His real name was Henry, but, instead of accepting the nickname Hank, he chose his own. Rumor had it that he was a superb artist. He certainly looked the part with his wild hair.

He turned and looked at me. “Oh, hi Sam.” His smiled was disarming. His instant recognition of my was frightening.

I froze, he used my real name. He instantly knew what had happened. He saw through my girl disguise and knew me. He dropped his voice because he knew I wasn’t dressed as a boy. “Yes, I know who you really are.”

I couldn’t say a word. I was frozen standing there. I think he saw the panic in my eyes.

“Please be calm. Don’t be afraid, Sam. I have known who you really are since I first met you. What is your name now so I don’t give you away?”

I stammered out, “S-samantha.”

He walked up to me and took my paralyzed hand and shook it for me. “Samantha, it is a pleasure to meet the real you.” He looked around cautiously, “But, how did you tell your parents or is this still a secret?”

I don’t know why, but I knew honesty was the best policy. I whispered, “Yes and no. I am helping the police with undercover work. My parents are letting me be me because they think it is a disguise. So, I am me full time until my job is over.”

“I am sorry to hear that. I had hoped you were finally released from your prison.” He sounded genuinely disappointed and caring.

I softly said, “Yes. But, I think I will come out to them at the end and they won’t mind.”

“Oh good. That would be wonderful.”

“But, how ...” I couldn’t get out the words.

“But, how did I know?” His expression became even more gentle and he smiled at me.

“Because I love to draw. I have drawn you several times at school with out you knowing. I noticed that you carried yourself like a girl.” I looked at him perplexed and he seemed to know what to say next. “The artist in me enjoys observing people. After a while, I found I can read people and their inner struggles. I saw how you looked at the girls around you and other things you did, like being a girl for Shakespeare. And when I introduced myself to you at school, I just knew when I looked into your eyes I was right.” He changed to subject to give me a chance to breath. He returned to using a normal voice, “I have recently moved into paints from water colors and am taking classes at the college since they don’t offer what I want to learn in art class anymore.” I don’t know why, but I felt at ease with him.

We began walking the aisles slowly. I felt as safe with him as I did with Doug. His honesty and compassion were evident. “Cat, would you help me pick out a good book on the impressionists?”

“Sure. I would love to, but I didn’t know you painted.”

“Oh no, I just love their art. It is so beautiful.”

“Whom do you like the most?”

“Right now it is Renoir.”

He said softly, so no one could hear, “You like the way he paints young girls, don’t you? In fact, I bet you would longing to have been one of those girls.” Cat smiled. How could someone who barely met me at school know my heart so quickly and so well.

“I guess so.” I blushed.

“I tell you what, I promise to keep your secret forever. I will pretend I never knew you as Samuel. But, please, would you let me paint you in a beautiful flowing dress a la mode Renoir and give it to you?”

I looked at him speechless and wondering why.

“Look, Samantha. I admire your struggle for integrity and what you are doing now even if I don’t know the whole story. You have a tough road ahead of you. If I do a good job, you can put that painting in your home for your parent’s to enjoy. And it will help your parents accept the real you when the time comes.”

“You would do that for me? Why?”

“Because, as an artist, I yearn to free a soul to find their true nature, not just capture it.”

With a thrill in my heart at hearing his words, I took his hand and guided him to my Grandma. I said, “This is my Grandma Miller.”

“Grandma, this is someone I knew from my previous school. He doesn’t remember me. His name is Cat. He is an awesome artist I hear and he asked if he could paint me in the Renoir style of those young girls at the piano I have in the poster in my room. Can I get your permission for him to come over and paint me at your place. It would make a terrific present to Mom and Dad.”

“Mrs. Miller. I would love to do it. I just need to let my college instructor see it in order for me to get high school and college class credit. It would help me get a good grade to have Samantha be my model. I certainly can’t ask the college students in my class to be a model because I am a minor. That puts me in an awkward position.”

Grandma lowered her reading glasses and regarded him with a withering stare worthy of any policeman giving the third degree. “I would be able to supervise?”

It was impressive to see that she could even make Cat uncomfortable. “Oh yes Ma’am! I wouldn’t have it any other way. It would be a great help if I could paint her. I guess I should add that I can’t use one of the girls at my middle school without it creating jealousy and an outright ‘Cat’ fight. This solves a real problem for me. So, I would really appreciate you saying yes, but I would accept you saying no with no animosity or ill will at all.”

“Then, gracious young man. I accept on behalf of my granddaughter.” She smiled at his gentlemanly behavior.

We exchanged information and set up for modeling sessions at my grandparents place with my Grandma. I asked if Mary could be the other girl and he said yes. Then Cat and myself walked over to the section of books for impressionists. Cat picked out a book on clearance he said would give me lots of pictures to look through on the impressionists. I thanked him and said I was looking forward to our portrait sessions.

After we got home, my folks wanted to go out together to do some adult things. I was proud that they tasked me to watch Evelyn and Tristan. I decided to make the most of it by picking up Tristan and leading Evelyn next door to watch the triplets while Mrs. Smith took a nap. It turned out to be a lot of fun. Tristan could keep up with Brian who ran circles around me now. They were a few days from turning one. In fact, they shared the same birthday as Evelyn.

Evelyn took to Carol. Of course, she was my favorite. But that was okay. It was nice to spend time with Alice. I taught Evelyn how to change the babies. She was very impressed with my skill.

Eventually, the babies wore themselves out and we put them down for naps. Mrs. Smith came out and we sat on her back porch while Tristan and Evelyn threw a Frisbee.

“You have a nice family. I am glad they are visiting.” She handed me a stack of fashion catalogs.

“Take some time and go through the catalogs. You want to look for three things. First, someone with the same coloring as you. Second, you want to find someone with a similar body type to yours. Circle those. Third, you want to circle a style you like. If the picture you circle meets more than just one condition, then put a check in it. So, for example, a picture has all three, you would have a circle with two checks in it.”

She handed me a pen and I began to work on the catalogs. “Mrs. Smith, how did you learn to dress so nicely?”

“The same way I am teaching you. My mother and I would go through catalogs at home. We would circle the ones we liked and talk about them. Then, my mother would go through the ones I didn’t circle and we would talk about them too. It was a lot of hard work, but, by the time we had done it for a while, I learned what worked and what didn’t. In some cases, I ignored something that really worked well on me. In other cases, I hit the nail on the head.”

“Well, thank you so much for helping me. It really means a lot.”

“Good. I can’t wait for us to go shopping soon. Catalogs help you know what to look for. Shopping helps you figure out if what you see is what you get.”

We sat there and looked through the catalogs together. At one point, she drew my attention to a really pretty girl and said she was my body type and coloring. “Here. Look at her. She is wearing jeans and a denim top. But look at how she combines them. She looks all girl. The denim top is in black with decorative cuffs. And she is wearing a flower print blouse. She uses a cord for a belt. And she has simple flats with a flower on them. It suits her age and her looks. That would look cute on you.”

I looked over what she had pointed out to me. “I totally missed that.”

“And that is why I had you circle things. I have blind spots too. When I go shopping, it is nice to go with a girlfriend who can see something I don’t. I think this style would look very good on you. Sometime soon, we will go shopping and you will see something you think looks good on me. I will try it and find you are right. And I will learn something new too.”

The afternoon passed by quickly. I learned about styles that worked for me and those that didn’t. It was a lot of hard work and it was fun. Eventually, we had to go back home. I made a simple dinner for us and we watched ‘Chitty Chitty, Bang, Bang.’ Tristan was tired and I carried him up to Jane’s trundle. I put him in the cot and encouraged Evelyn to go to bed in my bed. They finally fell asleep. The house was real quiet at last.

I sat at my desk with all the catalogs and put on some Chopin my father had bought. I looked at the two girls at the piano and started to think about where my road was taking me. Before long, Dad poked his head in the door. “Hey Princess. How is the Chopin?”

“Oh hi Daddy, I love it. His music is so beautiful. How was your adult day?”

“Wonderful. Your Mom had a real good time with your uncle. She doesn’t get much time to spend with her brother these days. They sure appreciated you babysitting so we could have a day for us. Jane enjoyed being with us too.”

“No problem. I loved every moment of it.”

“You know, pumpkin, I bet you did. You really do like being a home body.”

I grinned. “Yes, Daddy, I do.”

After our talk, I slept like an angel.

Wednesday night, I answered the door and there stood this handsome creature who invaded my life. My heart skipped a beat when he smiled. “Dean, I am so glad you and your folks could come for dinner.”

Mom came to the door behind me. “Claire, Harper, Dean. We are so glad you could come for dinner. Come on in.”

“Dean, did you want to try on the outfit before dinner.” I asked.

“Y-yes, I-I would l-like t-that.”

I handed him the outfit and lead him to the upstairs bathroom. While he went into the bathroom, I went into my room to wake up Tristan for dinner. As I woke him up, I found that he wet himself. I had him undress, gave him a towel, and picked out new clothes after putting his wet clothes, rubber sheet, and sheeting in a laundry basket. Dean came to my door. “I-It fits p-perfectly, S-samantha. Y-you do a-awesome w-work.”

I motioned for him to come in. He looked around my room and admired my paintings. I looked over the outfit checking the seams and the overall fit. “Dean, you should go down and show your parents. I have to give Tristan a quick bath in my parent’s room. I will be down in about fifteen minutes. That should leave the bathroom available for you to change out of the outfit.”

“G-Good p-plan.” Dean went off to show everyone his outfit.

I took Tristan into my parent’s bathroom and put him in the bathtub. I began to get him up cleaned up. While he was getting cleaned up in the tub, I had to pee real bad. “I have to pee, Tristan, just keep cleaning yourself up. I will be right with you.” My parents had a commode with a door, so I stepped in to the toilet room, pulled down my pants and then my panties to my knees, and sat down to pee.

At that point, Jane wandered into the bathroom and laughed when she saw me.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you took it that seriously, Pipsqueak.”

“Yeah, I can’t let my guard down for a minute. So, it is play the part twenty-four seven.” I wiped and pull up my panties and pants. I washed my hands. Jane helped me towel off Tristan before we got him dressed.

“Do you miss standing up?” She whispered in my ear.

I looked at her and shook my head no.

“Do you miss being a boy yet?” She whispered in my ear.

I looked at Tristan standing there naked for a moment. I then turned to her and shook my head no.

As we got Tristan dressed, Jane said, “I love you Pipsqueak.”

“Squeak, squeak.”

She leaned over me and kissed me on the head as we left the bathroom with a clean Tristan. “Thank you, I needed to know.” She stopped and said, “I will be right down. I have to pee too. I saw her pull a box from her purse as she did it. I realized it was a kind of test kit one finds in the drug store. I picked up Tristan and took him downstairs to dinner. I did what Erin said. I didn’t say a word about what I just saw. I just grinned because I knew what it meant.

When I got downstairs, I told my parents that Jane was going to be a little while.

“I’ll have you know that Samantha cooked most of this meal.” Mom said proudly to our guests. I turned redder than a radish.

The Pilsners seemed to be impressed. Especially since it was Beef Wellington that I cooked. According to everyone, it was ‘cooked to perfection.’ Doug even joined in with his praises.

Before the evening was out, Dean took Doug outside for a little talk. They came back in and Dean was clearly happy. But, at the same time, he was a little restrained. We all said our goodbyes. I walked with Doug back to his house.

“What did you say to the poor guy?” I inquired.

“That he needs to be a gentleman. I am not going to let my sister be used. I said that it is clear you love children and that you were saving yourself for marriage. In other words, I gave him ‘the lecture’ your Dad would give him if you were born with girl parts.”

“How did he take it?”

“He grinned the whole time.”

“Doug.” I blushed and stammered. I stood looking at my feet for a moment. Then I pushed up on my toes and pulled him down and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you. Thanks! I am so blessed that you are my brother.” I skipped home. I don’t know why, but being looked after by my family made me feel so girly, but it did.

The week went by quickly. I made the baseball dress for Evelyn with her help. We had a dress up evening with Jane and tried on some of my old clothes and Jane’s old clothes. Then we did make up and brushed each others hair too. It was a lot of fun. She loved learning about how to sew and said she would see if she could learn when she got back home. Her Dad was enjoying watching us work together at the sewing table. We also visited a few sites of the Civil War and a museum or two with Grandpa. All in all, it was so busy that we didn’t care if I didn’t care if I was stuck at home for spring break.

The time came for our sad goodbyes. It was hard to say goodbye to Evelyn who had become like my little sister too. We hugged and promised we would stay in touch. And caring for Tristan was a joy too, even if he wet the bed a few times. I really loved carrying him around. Aunt Sandra and Uncle Robert never treated me like a boy and seemed to enjoy my being a girl.

Dad took them off to the airport and the house felt too quiet. The silence was broken when I heard the phone ring. I sat down at the dinning room table thinking school couldn’t happen soon enough, when Mom came into the dinning room after putting down the phone. She sat down at the dinner table with me. “I have some interesting news for you Samantha.”

“What?”

“The trial in Denver is being moved. They call it a ‘Change in Venue.’ It is being moved to Nashville. And, that means Miranda and her parents are going to be staying south of Nashville in less than a month. So, they want to see you when they get settled in their temporary housing here. It will be just until the trial is over. But, Miranda has been asking about when she gets to see you again. Apparently, you made quite an impression on her. And the mother really wants to meet you and thank you.”

“How long will they be here, do you think?” I was excited to hear this news.

“They figure about six to nine months.” Awesome, I really get to spend some time with Miranda.

I couldn’t believe how much my world had changed in just two weeks.

I wondered what April showers would bring as I fell asleep to Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata.’

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[ Author’s Note: I have a confession to make. When I was twelve, I fell madly in love with her when I was introduced to her during a news broadcast showing her conferring with President Nixon. There was something about her I couldn’t resist. I wanted her to be family. I wanted her to be my other grandmother since I only had one. Her name was Golda Meir. She enchanted me with her words, charm, and wisdom. I was head over heels in love with her. Yes, I confess that I was totally smitten with her at first sight. I never saw her as ugly, though she called herself ugly. To me, she was beautiful and radiant, kind, and everything I wanted in a role model. Her fierce nature and gently nature perfectly combined in a way that both comforted me as a child pushing his way onto the adult stage and inspired me to be a better human being. There! I’ve said it. I feel better now that I have made a full confession about my first passionate crush. Well, there was my stuffed animal which took me forever to give up. I don't think that counts. – AuP ]

Chapter 19 – The Birthday Incident

“Are you sure you will be okay sitting here for a couple of hours. I know it will be boring.”

“It’s okay Grandpa, you go ‘shoot the breeze’ with your old friend. I know he uses course language. I would rather stay out here and enjoy my book. I can sit here like a good little girl. I assure you.”

“All right. See you in a little while.” Grandpa shut the door to the security officer’s door at the French Embassy. We are going to head down the road to Virginia for my first sting in months where I would meet up with Tommy and the rest of the agents after they had a chance to catch up on old times. Grandpa open jawed our connection so he could visit the French security chief. Our plan is to fly out of Roanoke. The two of them reconnected soon after the capture of David St. Jean when Security Chief Thomas found out that my grandfather was stateside again.

We had flown out early since my school had a half day on Friday. We skipped even the half day with the permission of the school and a little inside pressure from Bill. The flight out got us into National well before lunch. I was in one of the outfits that Mrs. Smith helped me buy. It was a nice dress. I also had a bra on and now sported breast forms which my Mom arranged for because of what Jane said. They were really good falsies too. I was given almost a B cup size to make me look more like the girls at school. I was not endowed, but not wanting either. Between my gaff and my forms, I liked how I looked in the mirror. I was looking more girly as instructed and was loving every minute of it.

I opened my paperback book. It was Victor Hugo’s ‘Les Miserables’ in French. I was letting myself go into a world where I watched Jean-Val-Jean steal silver from a bishop when I heard a door open down the corridor and a woman’s heels clicking quickly down to the hallway to where I was sitting. Finally, I looked down past my book and saw feet in front of me. I looked up. There was a woman in a smart dress with her hair tied back into a bun and glasses, arms folded, who just stared at me. “Salut, Madame," I said. In French, she said, “Well, are you just going to sit there young lady! You have a children’s party to work.” Before I could say anything, she commanded quite forcefully, “Come. Hurry.”

I put the paperback book in my purse and stood up, as she walked away with my following her, I said, “Mais, Madame ...”

She threw me a glance over her shoulder and continued in French. "We have no time to discuss this right now. I have the embassy children from Belgium, Switzerland, Haiti, The Congo, and the Cote d'Ivoire all arriving soon and we can’t go over why you are late. I am just grateful you speak French. I have only so much time to show you what needs to be done. Hurry up please!”

Keeping up with her was difficult. I was almost breathless when we arrived at a door to an outer courtyard where there were tables and balloons. On one table were several tarts. And another table already had gifts on it for a birthday child. There was a sign, in French, of course, saying ‘Happy 8th Birthday Natasha!”

“Who is Natasha?” I asked.

“She is the French ambassador's daughter, young lady. What is your name?”

“Samantha, Madame.” I hung my purse down on the chair she pointed to for me and picked up the apron that was on it. I hesitated to put it on but she was too insistent that I follow her instructions for me to get a word in edgewise.

“You may address me as Madame Lafarge.” She shook her head. “You are too young for this. I cannot believe that Kelly Girl’s sent me someone so young and inexperienced. You have just barely sixteen years no doubt. It is bad enough that I lost our entertainment. I asked for a guitar player and the one that agreed said he didn’t sing French at the last minute. Damn Americans. They don’t know that Celine Dion sings her best in French or even that she sings in French.”

“I know Madame Lafarge. I play guitar. Plus, I love to sing Jean-Jacques Goldman songs as well as Dion in French.”

“You do? Fantastic. Did you bring a guitar." I shook my head no. "No. Well, that is obvious. Why would you need one? I have one to lend you. I will bring it out shortly. After serving the food, there will be something extra in for you if you can do a halfway reasonable job. Poor Natasha. She misses her France. She has only been here for a month and she misses all of her friends. I want this to work young lady. So, how well do you sing and play?"

“I sing in my choir, Madame Lafarge. And, I sing songs by Dion, Cabrel, Balavoine, and Bruel also."

“Good, you may just save the day. Now, follow me into the kitchen and I will show you what to do.”

For the next fifteen minutes, I got a lecture on what foods were to be served when and how. I was told how to treat the children and that I must respond quickly to their requests. I was also shown where the toilets were, the areas that were off limits, and told that the birthday party must be par excellence!

Feeling for the poor child, I stopped short of telling her that I was twelve, a guest, and really a boy. I began to do as I was told. When I came back into the courtyard, the children were just being dropped off by their parents and I began to serve them drinks and be a good hostess. The difference in dialects was difficult at times, but I managed to understand them well enough to do a reasonable job. I found the children to be very polite, with them always saying thank you after every little thing I did. They were well behaved. Especially by American standards. They didn’t treat me like help and many asked from where in Paris I was from. I had to tell them that I was American. They were shocked saying that my accent was Parisian and beautiful. I said thank you for the compliment every time. They were teaching me politeness.

After a while, the children sat down for their meal. It was a decent lunch. They served my favorite, Croque monsieurs.' I went into the kitchen and the cooks gave me trays of food with which I took out into the courtyard and gave to each child. Every time I did something for a child, they said thank you. It was magic. It was so nice to hear. Lastly, I gave the birthday child her plate. She thanked me also. I was impressed that she was served last, not first. While they were eating, I filled drinks and took requests for condiments and other items. Madame Lafarge came in with a very nice Gibson acoustic guitar. It was gorgeous. She placed it next to my chair in the corner where my purse hung.

“Samantha, after they finish, please help me clear the table of plates. I will present her with the tart and let her blow out the candles. I want you to sing on the guitar, Happy Birthday. If you do a good job, then I will let you entertain the guests with songs she has selected. I will have the music brought in while you serve the guests the tart.”

“Oui, Madame. J’ai compris.” I acknowledged that I understood her instructions.

Everything went according to Hoyle. Soon, I had the guitar tuned and we all sung happy birthday in French to Natasha who blew out her candles. Madame Lafarge nodded and smiled. She motioned to the chair indicating that I was to start singing.

The list was a lot of songs I knew and only one or two I didn't. I didn't attempt them. There were a couple of surprises, but on the whole, I was able to hold my own. I started with ‘C'est Ecrit' by Cabrel. Then, I sang his famous ‘Petite Marie.' Surprisingly, it turned into a sing-along. Natasha came over with her chair and sat next to me. She clearly enjoyed singing with me. Most of the children knew the songs I was singing. I figured they chose more adult songs so Natasha felt older. But, a fair amount was mixed in for the younger children like ‘Sur Le Pont D'Avignon.'

“Samantha, is there anything you would like to sing?” Natasha asked.

“I am supposed to practice a song for my school.” I began to sing ‘Chanter.’ Natasha perked up. We began singing it together.

Then, the coup de grace, I began singing ‘Pour que tu m’aimes encore.’ We sang together like we had been doing it for years. When we finished the final chorus, the group applauded. The rest of the music was pretty straight forward.

After about forty minutes of singing, Madame Lafarge waved me off and we finished the rest of the party just refreshing drinks and helping the children have a good time mingling. I was surprised that there were no planned activities and noted that it must be a French thing. It was clear that I was very good with them because Madame Lafarge kept smiling at me as I worked with them either meeting their needs or directing them to the toilets.

Finally, the children began leaving as their parent came to pick them up until there was only Natasha.

“Madame Lafarge, thank you. I had a wonderful birthday party. I am sad that my Mom and Dad couldn’t be here.” She went up and hugged her. “And I am really glad you hired Samantha.” I could tell that Madam Lafarge really cared about Natahsa. That explained her gruff and commanding manner. She wasn’t mean at all.

Natasha added, “And Samantha, I loved your singing. Thank you for letting me join you. I am surprised that an American knows so many of our songs. Have you been to France yet? Your French is very good.”

“Not yet, Natasha. I hope to do that someday. My brother has recently started dating a beautiful and smart woman from Harfleur. I am hoping she is the one for him."

Madame Lafarge was about to say something to me when, abruptly, the door to the courtyard swung open. From the interior of the corridor, I heard. “There you are!” Chief Thomas and Grandpa came rushing into the courtyard looking worried. His voice was scolding, even in French. “Samantha, what are doing here? I left you in the corridor outside Chief Thomas’ office.” Grandpa said with further irritation. “I expressly told you to wait for me.”

"Oh, my!" Madame Lafarge looked at me. Her face expressed totally embarrassment. “You didn’t come from Kelly Girls?”

“Non, Madame. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t have the chance. And I couldn’t ruin Natasha’s birthday after what you told me.”

Chief Thomas began to laugh having quickly ascertained what had transacted between us. “Madame Lafarge, this is the granddaughter of my good friend here. She has twelve years. You know how I speak. She was sitting outside my office reading a book so she didn’t have to listen to my bad language. It looks like you tricked her into helping you.” He was almost doubling over in laughter at that point. My grandfather started to laugh too as he realized what had happened. Madame Lafarge sat down looking scared.

“Madame Lafarge, don’t worry. I didn’t mind. It was the least I could do. I liked getting a chance to use my French. And I enjoyed helping you and Natasha. To tell you the truth, it was an honor to be of service in a time of need.” She looked relieved and expressed her gratitude.

Natasha giggled. “I am so glad you assisted my birthday party, Samantha. But, next time, you must come as a guest. Please stay in touch. I don’t have many friends here in America.”

“I shall." We kissed each other's cheeks and bid each other adieu.

The drive south to Roanoke was a long drive, but it gave me plenty of time to be with my Grandpa. We discussed numerous things along the way. All in French too. He had lived an adventurous life and regaled me with stories of how the smartest of criminals were caught for the stupidest of reasons. About six thirty, we pulled into a home outside of Roanoke. It was a two-story brick house with a porch on the side. I could see Tommy on the porch swing. He looked over at us and he came down to greet us. He opened my door like a true southern gentleman. “Merci mon ami.” I then gave him ‘la bise’ on both sides of his face which clearly caught him off guard. “Quel plaisir de te revoir !” After a day in French conversation, I didn’t even realize I was still talking, thinking, and acting French.

I don’t know whether it was to mock me or go along with me, but Tommy responded with a southern twang, “Don’t y’all worry your pretty little head, Samantha. I will get your luggage and bring it upstairs to your chambre. The agents are inside waiting for all y’all. After which we are headed to ‘The Southern Place’ for a real southern dinner. They are only open Friday through Sunday.”

“Merci encore, Tommy.” I gave him another polite ‘la bise’ on both cheeks, secured my purse, and took my Grandpa’s hand as he led me into the house to meet with the agents. I chuckled at how much Tommy blushed when I kissed him on the cheeks. I put an extra sway in my hips as we walked up the steps to the house. My heels gave me not only height but a nice sway. I could see him looking at me. With my, breast enhancements and my new style, I could tell I was leaving him questioning his sanity. If he was wondering if I was a girl or a boy, I wanted to make sure that, oh boy, did I look like and act like a girl!

“Bonjour, Debbie! Quel plasir de te revoir !” I went up to where she was sitting and gave her ‘la bise’ on both cheeks. She looked at me with a smirk. “Sorry, I have been speaking French all day at the embassy and with Grandpa. It was a lot of fun.”

"In fact, she made quite an impression on the French Ambassador's daughter, Natasha," Grandpa said with pride. "She helped fill in at her birthday party and stole the show by accident." Debbie looked at me with an amused expression.

“You seem to find yourself useful in all sorts of places don’t you, young lady? Anyway, we have a simple weekend planned and I think a French speaking girl could make it even more productive. Are you ready to stay in character the rest of the weekend, Samantha?”

“But of course. Bien sur !”

“Let’s go get some really good southern food then.”

"Apres toi, mon amie," I said. Grandpa and I followed Debbie and the gang out to a van and we headed in the direction of Blacksburg via Catawba. Inside the van were Tommy and his mother. She introduced herself to me and thanked me for saving their daughter, Connie, from exploitation. She noticed how nicely I was dressed and how like a girl I was. She couldn't believe I was really a boy. Grandpa introduced himself to her and found her first name was Marlee. They seemed to hit it off.

They pulled into this parking lot surrounded by green fields. Next to it was this beautiful large looking farmhouse. Inside, it was an open design with large rooms with dinning tables filled with people. The floors were dark hardwood and the tables had simple white linens on them. We were seated at this one round table and our drink order was taken. It was an all you can eat restaurant where they would bring food to your table. All kinds of fried chicken and chicken fried steaks. Mashed potatoes, green beans, and corn. And, a dessert of peach, blueberry, or apple cobbler with ice cream. I asked for a salad and a small dish of fried chicken, mashed potato, and green beans. The rest of the crew pigged out. Especially Tommy and his mom. I was content with my portion and the company.

There was great conversation about life and travels. I mostly listened. Then, Debbie, sitting next to me, turned to me and paid me the biggest compliment in the world. “Samantha, I have to admire your cool head when you saw Jeremy Bolton at the table. He wasn’t too dangerous. But, you could have easily panicked and gotten yourself hurt. Finding a phone to call me and ask what to do was the right thing to do.” That is when she paid me the biggest compliment. She hugged me and said, “I love you.” It wasn’t said in a romantic way. It was said just like Jane when she says she loves me. For me, the night was awesome. I was like her little sister.

“How is your Dad, Debbie?”

“Oh, wonderful. We are doing Daddy dates once a month. At least, until I settle down and get married. He keeps asking if I have found someone yet. It is hard to date when you have a job like mine.”

“I don't know. That agent whom I met, Carlson, looked handsome and seemed really to respect you. That is a good start to a relationship."

“But, he lives in Denver.” I took note that she knew where he lived and that she had sized him up already.

“Oh, I don’t know. He is being assigned to protection duty for the Murphys in Nashville. I bet if you were my assigned agent, you would run into him in Nashville. Just a thought.” I rolled my eyes around and blew bubbles in my iced tea with my straw.

“You are a little sneak, aren’t you?”

“Who, me? I am as innocent as can be. Why I would never interfere with someone's life."

“That is not what Jane says.”

“Oh really! And what did she tell you?”

“She said you have fixed your brother up with a woman from France.”

“I do have my moments. And I think she will be good for my brother.”

“Well, I will think about your advice for me. But if I do follow it, no pushing us together. Promise?”

“Pinky promise!" I put up my pinky. She giggled and said, "Pinky promise." We locked pinkies.

After a bit, Debbie asked me what I was thinking. “I was thinking it would be great if it were to happen soon so I could be one of your maids of honor instead of a groomsman.” I grinned and scrunched my nose at her.

“You’re an impossible romantic, aren’t you? And who said you would be one of my maids of honor?” She stuck her tongue out at me. We laughed.

I felt good that I was able to be so personal with her and still be a kid at the same time. I looked back at her, “Of course, the best part of being at your wedding would be to meet your dad. I have heard so much about him from you. He must be a wonderful Dad.”

“He is. He is.” She reached around and hugged me.

When we got back to the house, something almost tanked the whole weekend. Agent Iris came in with her three-month old baby boy. The discussion was what they were going to do. Her husband was supposed to take him for the weekend, but they missed each other and she didn't know what to do.

I politely waited in a chair as the adults discussed the matter. I watched her son, Issac, in his car seat. He was watching me and I was playing with him. I realized he filled his diaper and motioned to his mother and held my nose.

“I know. Yes, he needs changing!” I took that as an order. She went back to the discussion.

Without saying a word, I picked up her diaper bag, put out her diaper mat, and took him out of the car seat. I had him changed in no time. By the time I had put his outfit back on, she turned around and saw that not only had I changed him but that I was feeding him from the bottle in the bag. The adults stopped and looked at me feeding him.

I looked at them and simply said. “Wouldn’t the presence of a baby give the dad a good reason to frisk the mark without giving it away that he was a cop?”

They looked at each other and said in a chorus. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

In one fell swoop, I was changed into an illegal alien ‘au pair’ French runaway.

The game plan for the next day was simple. I was going to be a French au pair who spoke English very badly. Tommy was going to be the obnoxious boy of the house and two agents would play man and wife. The man would have people come by to see photos of me that he took because I had no shame of being naked as a French girl. He would sell pictures of me at their pool and the like. The payment was going to be photos the person had to exchange for mine. The neat thing about this sting is that they didn’t have to show any of my photos. The man would arrive and be ushered into the “Dad’s office” and then the negotiations would begin. As soon at the man showed his first photo, he was caught. Then, he was taken away for processing and the next man was invited to come over.

Tommy and I had fun in the morning. Mrs. Hinks took care of Issac. To get to the office, which was located next to the pool, Tommy and I would be swimming. I wore a one piece suit. The men would come to the side gate and my “Dad” would usher them into the outside office. During that time, I would be speaking French with Tommy and getting frustrated with how bad my English was.

We were really getting into the role too.

“Comment dit-on la piscine en Anglais?” I flipped through a dictionary and, while pointing to the pool, I said, “Pole.”

Tommy corrected me. “Pool, not pole.”

“Pooooule. Da Poooule has cowld.”

Tommy would then say, “The pool is cold. Repeat after me, ‘The pool is cold.’”

By then, the man was inside so Tommy and I would be bored until the next performance. It gave us time to talk about various things.

“How do you like Danvers? Is it a good school?”

“Oh yes. I love the teachers. It helps that Mrs. Duncan is there. She gives me an anchor to the old school. I don’t think I will need her after this year though.”

“So, you figure on being there through eighth grade?”

“Oui. But, they are talking about my going to an exchange class in Canada at the end of the eighth grade so I can transition back into being who I was before." I didn't want to say that I was looking forward to staying as I was. No, rather, becoming who I really am.

“Good, because I miss the old you. You were a good kid.” His comment took me by surprise.

“I didn’t think anybody noticed me. I figured I was invisible.”

“Not as much as you might think. I certainly remember you. You were my competition in most of my classes for top marks for the whole school. You usually beat me by two or three percentage points which irked me because I knew you didn’t care. The only class I had no problem besting you in was anything to do with sports. I remember when you took a swing in baseball and fell down in forth grade. That was funny. But, I was on the other team, so I could laugh.”

“Yeah, that was funny. My team got so mad at me when I said I didn’t get hit by the ball. I don’t like sports. I would rather sit on the bench and read. What position did you play?”

“You didn’t know. I was the pitcher. I was so impressed with your honesty, I threw an easy ball for you to hit next and you did.”

I blushed. “Thank you. That was very kind of you. I was going to get killed if I didn’t get on base. But it felt wrong to do it dishonestly.”

“That’s okay. Anyone else would have hit a homer. You only got a double. Still, you could have lied. Why didn’t you? No one would have blamed you.”

“I guess I am not very competitive. You’re right. I don’t even check to see the list of grades in the classes I take and how I compare to the others. I know I am at the top more often than not. I just love learning.”

“Well, in case you don’t know, and I suspect it is true at your school now, you are one of the smartest kids in the room. And trust me, it is noticed.”

“I think Mary does a good job of protecting me. She has my back.” I hadn’t thought about how I was being received at school. I was so happy to make friends at last that I didn’t know if I was a problem too for some students.

“Good. Because you are a nice guy. You don’t hate anyone. Or, if you do, it isn’t for very long.”

We went inside for a break. Agent Debbie came in with groceries I had her get from Food Lion. We decided to move the operation indoors so I could cook and clean. I changed into a little sexy number with shorts and top. I mostly hid it behind an apron. I decided that we would have a leg of lamb, asparagus, roasted corn, and cherry pie. I began to prep and cook the pies first.

While I was busy cooking, another man was being led through the room as the stings continued. My faux father was talking to him. We overheard the conversation. “I use a connector to the parallel port. It treats a drive as a scuzzy drive and I can backup files. I will show you.” I glanced at Agent Lamont and he winked at the guest obviously implying that was how they would exchange data.

I played the part as I had been all day, “Salut Papa. Je vais faire cuire de la quiche pour dejeuner. Ca te plait?” ( Hello Papa, I am going to make some quiche for lunch. Does that please you?)

“Oui, parfait. I love quiche.” he winked, “That pleases me very much.”

The strange man startled us when he said to me, “D’ou venez vous, mademoiselle?” He asked where I was from.

Thinking quickly, and remaining calm, I said. “Un petit village, Monsieur. Tarbes, au sud de France. Parlez-vous Francais?”

Luckily, all he said in response was, “Okay. I think you just said Tarbes. Non, I just learned it in High School.”

I continued with my cooking. “Merde! Je ne connais pas le systeme Anglais. Wat is one hundread and sixtee dagrees in fair und height, Sean?”

Tommy pulled out a calculator and said, “That would be three hundred and twenty-five degrees, mademoiselle.”

“Merci.” I gave him a ‘la bise’ on the cheek. “Ewe are so kind.” Something in me enjoyed embarrassing Tommy with my French style kisses.

Agent Lamont looked relieved and continued on into the office. I heard him say as he went off. “She isn’t learning much English if you know what I mean. Going to introduce her to some private beaches on the coast soon.” The man snickered. Creep.

I set the oven to preheat and started rolling out the pie dough. The guest went out back with our “Dad” and was being led out in another ten minutes or so in cuffs. I finished making the pies except for the egg wash. Then I set about preparing the lamb with garlic, rosemary, and thyme.

In between visitors, Tommy’s Mom and my Grandpa would come out to assist. There was a very clever system of lights set up. When the coast was clear, a light in the kitchen turned on. When it went off, they hid. The X-10 system did the same thing with a light in the room they stayed in. It was run by agent Iris who in a second story bedroom being a look out.

“Do you love to cook, Samantha?” Mrs. Hinks asked as she was holding Issac.

“Yes, I do. I learned from my Mom. She learned at a fancy cooking school.”

I put two legs I had prepped into the fridge and began to cook the pies. I set the timer and sat down. Tommy began to do his homework and I found a book. Mrs. Hinks sat down with us. “So, Samantha. Would you consider coming over for dinner at our place sometime soon? Connie would like to thank you in person."

“I would like that. Honestly, I don’t remember Connie. I wish I did.”

“She remembers you. You irritated Tommy so much that she naturally grew to enjoy dropping your name at home to pick on him. Sisters are that way.”

I looked at Tommy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I ...”

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it Samantha. Once I got to know you and how much you cared about people, it didn’t get to me anymore. Which, when I found out, annoyed my sister no end. Plus, you weren’t at Canterbury this year, so I became the best student in the school.” He winked at me.

I teased him in a low whisper, “So, you do have a reason to keep me in a dress. Dork!” We laughed.

Tommy’s look turned to worry. “Seriously, Samantha, the concern I have for you is that you won’t be the class valedictorian because of this job.”

I rested my hand on Tommy’s arm, “Please, I don't want the award. I want the knowledge that I am doing something worthwhile. That is something a speech in front of a group of students couldn’t give me. Plus, I have no idea what I would say. I would probably mess it up anyway.”

Mrs. Hinks, who was listening to us, changed the subject before it became too depressing. “Samantha, are you thinking of going into law enforcement?”

“No, Ma’am. I want to be a pediatrician. I love children. I have also considered becoming an OB/GYN too. I keep flipping back and forth. My folks tell me that there is plenty of time to decide.”

I brought out some milk, eggs, and cheese and began to make quiches for lunch. I also grabbed the fruit that Debbie bought and set it aside to make a fruit salad to go with the quiches. Soon, I was pulling out the pies and the quiches. We took a lunch break and the agents, Grandpa, and the Hinks enjoyed my quiches.

“Samantha, this is excellent! You are a very good cook.” Mrs. Hinks patted me on the back.

“Samantha, the pies smell wonderful! I am looking forward to dinner too.” Agent Lamont said. “By the way, that was a good recovery back there in the kitchen. You handled it very well. It was a good thing he wasn’t from France.”

“Not to worry sir. I have studied that area of France. It is where Lourdes is. And it is not far from Toulouse. So, I think I can more than bluff my way through if it happens again. But, we should have a backup plan."

“Tommy, should that happen again, I want you to drop something or break something in the kitchen or at the pool. Create a distraction. I will yell at you of course, but don’t take it personally.”

“Yes, sir." Tommy was grateful to be included finally. I realized I should do something about that.

With my tasks done and the instructions for dinner given to Mrs. Hinks, I began my shift for taking care of Issac. I had been waiting for it all day. I loved every moment of caring for him. From feeding him to changing his diapers, I was in nirvana.

Agent Debbie stopped to look at me holding him and playing with him. “You will make a good mother, Samantha.” She said without thinking.

I took Issac in one arm and started to do his laundry as a few more men came in that afternoon. My standard line was, “Salut Papa. Le bebe est content, comme d’habitude. Il prends son pied.” ( Hello father. The baby is happy, as usual. He is having fun.)

"Merci! Bon travail ! Yvette." ( Good job! Yvette )

"De rien." (Ah, it is nothing)

One time, as they walked away, I heard him say quietly to the mark, “It is so cool to have them pay for their own stay. And she doesn’t know a thing.” Once again, all I could do is think that the mark was a ‘Creep!’

We caught about twenty men that day and had a really good dinner celebrating our achievement. They loved my leg of lamb and my cherry pies. After dinner, Tommy talked to me briefly while I held Issac.

“I didn’t expect it to be this boring.” Tommy finally confessed.

“Yeah, that is why I love to cook during the stings. There really isn’t much for me to do either. Tell you what, would you like me to teach you how to cook?”

“Well, it is not exactly a guy thing.” Tommy looked flustered.

“I don’t know. I taught my brother Robert and he has used his cooking skills to get two girlfriends. And this last one is a knockout, French, and smart too. Besides, if your mom sees you learn, she will think you are responsible and will let you do more.”

“Really? More what?” Tommy was considering what it might do for his future.

“Really. Many women like it when a man shows he can take care of himself. It makes them feel as though they can rely on him to help out when things get tough when they have kids. And mothers feel a son who can cook is somehow more responsible and can be trusted when they aren’t there.”

“Good to know.”

“Shall we begin?” I figured why not start right away.

“You mean now?!” Tom looked flummoxed.

“No time like the present. Here grab the milk and eggs from the fridge." I took it and showed him how to make an egg mixture for Pain Perdu casserole. We took baguettes and broke them up. Buttered pans and added brown sugar. We spent about thirty minutes and had everything in the fridge for the next morning.

“That was easy!” Tommy said.

“I know. But they think I am a gourmet cook. And really, it is so simple. Now, let us move on to the next project before bed. Let's make Shepherds pie with the leftover lamb and some mashed potatoes. This is for Agent Iris."

“Why?”

“Because she feels bad about bringing the baby. So, this is telling her we aren’t bothered. And, if she goes home with some good food already prepped, she can have a nice conversation with her husband about not letting it happen again. Men are more stomach than brain sometimes."

“Oh. Doesn’t that apply to you?” Tommy gave me a severe glare.

“Only when I am not in a dress.” I laughed and put it in perspective.

We finished working together and had a great time. Agent Iris loved how well I took care of Issac. Truth be told. I enjoyed every moment I helped with him. There is something special about caring for a baby that is more addictive than any narcotic. And she appreciated the Shepherds pie. I told her how to cook it when she got home. She didn’t have far to go.

Mrs. Hinks loved the Pain Perdue casserole in the morning. I could hear her say that Tommy should marry a girl who could cook like this. She was flabbergasted that he helped prepare and cook it. I hope I haven’t gotten him into too much trouble. As we cleaned up the breakfast dishes, Mrs. Hinks asked me, “Do you think you could teach Tommy to pick up his room too?”

I grinned and worked. “I’ll work on it.” We giggled.

The flight back to Nashville was pleasant. We talked the whole time. Mrs. Hinks told me that she really admired what I was doing and my dedication to doing it right. Tommy told me that he might be a spectator at the choir competition. He and I worked out what we would say if pressed. I wished his team luck. He wished the same for ours. We headed our separate ways and my thoughts focused on competition week. As I came to enter the house, I noticed a nice rose blooming on our rose bush. Grandpa cut it for me. I went upstairs and found my Mom sitting on my bed enjoying my art gallery.

I handed her the rose. She sniffed it and smiled. “Penny for your thoughts, Mom.”

“Just thinking about how fast you are growing up. Those beautiful young ladies in the painting are long since dead. They probably were very old and had lots of great grandchildren when they passed away.”

I found myself quoting Shakespeare. “Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end. Sonnet sixty, I believe.”

Mom looked at me. “Well, I love Shakespeare.” I said.

She smiled and sniffed the rose again, “A rose by any other name, would smell as sweet. Romeo and Juliet. That is as far as I got with him in school. How was your weekend in Virginia?”

“It was very nice. They caught a lot of bad men. Tommy was very kind to me. Mrs. Hinks invited me over to dinner. And I had a baby to take care of for a while which was wonderful. But, I am glad to be back home. I like my four walls. And I missed my Mommy very much.” I sat down next to her and hugged her.

I don’t know why, but I grabbed a brush from my side table and shifted around. I began to brush my mother’s hair. “Hmmm, that is nice, Honey. Thank you. It has been a while since Jane brushed my hair. She and I used to do that when she was your age.”

“Was Jane a difficult teenager?” I was enjoying it too.

“No, she was a delight. We loved going shopping together. We would talk about boys and how funny they were. She would ask me about she should handle her girlfriends who were picking on her or how to get along better at school."

“What did you tell her?”

“Not much. I didn’t have any answers. She just needed someone to listen and I did.” I continued brushing her hair. It had gotten long lately. There were a few grey hairs in her hair. But, that didn’t matter. Something was compelling me to brush her hair. Maybe it was a memory. I put down the brush and started to braid her hair in a French braid. I reached over and picked up an elastic off the table and tied the end. I handed her a mirror. She smiled and nodded.

She motioned for me to turn around and she started to brush my hair too. It felt nice. She was thoughtful for a moment and then said,“Ready for the competition?”

“Scared to death. I almost want to be outed so I don't have to do it. Competition isn't easy for me. What if I fail? The choir is counting on me." I wondered if I sounded as scared as I really felt. It was beginning to hit me that I would have to compete in front of a bunch of people.

Mom continued brushing my hair. “You have to face your fears, honey. You can do it. Being Samantha has been a good learning experience for you. You have grown so much in the last six months.” Her touch and her brushing my hair felt wonderful. Almost like she had me in a trance.

“True. Sometimes, I want to be Samuel again so I could just crawl back into my shell and hide. But, then I see myself doing things I never dreamed of before. Growing up is scary." She stopped brushing my hair and began to braid it too into a French braid. She tied it off and handed me the mirror. I looked pretty. Then she put her arms around me and just held me. "It would be the easy way out to let Samuel out. And yes, growing up is scary. So is adulthood." She pulled back and looked me in the eyes. "Besides, I think you will do just fine, Honey. They are your friends. And you won't be up there alone. You will knock them dead." I blushed and grinned. "Thanks, Mom. I don't know what I would do without you." We hugged good night. I slept well.

The week was one great big rehearsal. There was an assembly on Wednesday where we performed for the school and showed them what we could do. They cheered and made us feel good. Mrs. Cox had me come and sing ‘Chanter’ for several of her French classes so I would get used to singing in front of people.

Wednesday, something special happened that I didn’t expect. Mom, Mary, and I came home. Mary and I were going to practice. Grandpa was standing in front of the back door with this huge grin on his face. Bill was standing next to him.

“Bill, so glad to see you. What brings you here?” Mom said. She looked at me with a grin too. Mary snickered.

“Your brilliant daughter. I have something special to share with her. Do you mind us coming in to present something to her?” He was beaming with pride.

“No, by all means.” Mom took my hand. I looked up at her. She knew what was up. None of this was catching her by surprise at all. Nor Mary. What was happening?

We were led into the living room. Doug and Jane were there too. I was baffled. There was a man there that I didn’t recognize. Anyway, Bill started to let me know what happened.

He held up a small framed letter and began to read it.

“I can only translate what this letter says. You will be able to read it. But, it is from the French Ambassador. It says thank you to Jackie Samantha Miller for your generous service in helping out at my daughter’s birthday celebration. As a token of our gratitude and your exceptional skill in French, we have arranged for you to receive a special gift. A guitar that we hope will bring you joy now and into the future.”

Bill pointed to the man. “Samantha, My name is John Mason. I work at the Gibson factory in Nashville.” He reached behind the couch and pulled up a guitar case. “On behalf of the French government, I present to you a Gibson Dreadnought guitar.”

I went over and opened it. It was gorgeous. Like the one, I saw at the French embassy. Madame Lafarge must have seen how much I loved and admired her guitar. My hands were shaking. The woodwork was rich and well crafted. The neck was beautiful. The fingerboard looked exquisite. I tuned it and strummed it. Tears flowed down my face. Tears of joy at having such a beautiful instrument.

The man continued. “This acoustic guitar has a pickup so it can be used in a performance like you will have to do at your choir competition this weekend. By the way, I will be attending as a representative of the Gibson company. Don't be surprised to see me in the audience."

I was lost in examining the guitar. I examined the body and the fingerboard. It was a fine instrument and I was very happy. He went on to present to me a guitar stand and went over the care of the guitar with me. It took about thirty minutes, but soon he was gone and Mary just stood there grinning at me.

“Well Samantha, play something!” I grinned, sat down, and began to play ‘Chanter.’ Doug, Jane, Mom, Grandpa, and Bill listened as I played my first song on the guitar. They applauded at the end. It was magical.

The next day, after stopping at my Mom’s office, I walked into the choir room with my new guitar. Mr. Thompson looked at me. “But we already have a guitar for you, Jackie. You don’t need to bring your own.”

I put the guitar case on the table and gently pulled it out. His eyes lit up. He knew instantly what I had in my hands. “Jackie, where did you get that Gibson?”

“Someone special gave it to me as a gift yesterday. Do you mind if we use it at the competition?”

“No, no. Please do! Let’s hear it. And it has a pickup too. We don’t have that.” I could tell he was as excited as I was. He was grinning ear to ear.

That day’s rehearsal went very well. After school, Mary and I were taken by my Mom to the salon where they did our hair and nails for the competition. They even did my Mom’s hair and nails. I loved every moment of being a girl. The next morning’s rehearsal was a flop. But it was nerves. Mom and I were preparing to get onto the bus at school. We loaded up our suitcases. We had arranged to be in the same room so I didn’t have any surprise outings because someone saw my real hardware. The trip up to Nashville was pleasant. We checked into the hotel. Everyone was thrilled that our Christmas campaign paid for most of our expenses this year. Most of the choir was doubling up in each of the rooms to cut expenses still. There were parental chaperones too. We paid for our room because my Mom wanted to protect me and keep me out of trouble. We were on the same floor and in the same part of the hotel’s wing.

At Five O’Clock, the schedules were posted in the lobby. Our audition was going to be at nine thirty. Canterbury's was going to be at ten thirty. That would mean that I wouldn’t be bumping into old friends right away, not that I really knew anyone from Canterbury anymore. Tommy’s comment about my grades informed me that there must be people there that knew me. With their performance being an hour after ours, I knew that they would be in the warm up room when we were on stage. That was a relief. Tomorrow’s performance only contributed to the order of the next day’s performance and ten per cent of the final scoring.

Carrying my own guitar quickly became my lifeline. It was fast becoming a part of me. The music it cradled was born out of helping of another human being in need. Its strings were the sinews of love that played out my heart strings. Its frets became my expression of working for others. And the chords I used became the major and minor impacts I had on the world around me. Mom was right. As Samantha, I had been growing in a way that Samuel never had. Sure, he would have made advancements. But, being myself and being my true self was the best path to success.

We set up for our performance. First me on the piano for ‘Coventry Carol.' Then my solo. Then the choir singing ‘Here Comes the Sun.' I think Mr. Thompson rearranged it to take some pressure off of me. I really appreciated that. We were doing our warm-ups in a room just outside the auditorium. We did our songs. And then we were ushered out onto a stage to sing. There were a piano and a chair. There was also a place for me to sit with my guitar and a jack to hook it into the audio system. I went to hook it up first. I tuned it really fast, and then I sat down at the piano. Per Mr. Thompson's instructions, I kept my eyes on him.

He raised his baton and motioned to me to began playing the first song. It would not be strange to be singing for two of the songs. I had practiced with everyone to recorded music in the beginning. But, in the last month, we switched to my playing at the piano and not singing. I asked Mr. Thompson why. He chuckled. “You will be singing inside. Most of the choirs will have recorded music. But, your music will be organic. And since you will be performing with everyone too, in your heart, the music coming out of the piano will complement them in a way that recorded music simply can’t.”

I could hear Elysa’s voice guide me during the song. Her clear voice was haunting and beautiful. I matched the piano to her eloquent style and it showed. The group followed. She became the alpha female and dominated the first song. When it ended, now came the hard part. I stood up and moved to the stool quickly and sat down. I picked up the guitar, quickly turned it, and focused again on Mr. Thompson. I began my solo. He played me like a fiddle. I mean in a good way. I could hear the choir back me up during the song by singing ‘Chanter' as a sort of emphasis and counter-emphasis, but his presence and that of Dean turning my music memorized me. I sang my heart out. I let his baton direct the beating of my fragile heart as it expressed its inner soul. Every note and quaver were totally responsive to his command. I didn't play or sing by ear, I played by heart for everyone to hear. Soon, the song came to an end and I thanked Dean who smiled at me to let me know I did a great job. He joined the rest of the choir.

After a moment's pause, on cue from Mr. Thompson's baton, I began the riff for ‘Here Comes the Sun." Bolstered by their performance of Coventry and by my performance of Chanter, they sang a song, true, and clear. It was nice to be able to play and enjoy listening to them. They worked their hearts out over the last three months for this and it showed. When we were finished, I heard applause from the audience. For the first time, I saw them there. A lot of the school choirs were there enjoying the performances. There was little else to do at the hotel and conference center. We bowed and I detached my guitar and joined everyone in a small room to debrief our performance.

“I think we will make it this year into the second round. We have never done that before. Cross your fingers, but we came strong out of the gate. You ought to be proud of yourselves. You did well.” Mom and I took my guitar up to the room. As we waited for the elevator, Clara Bryce stepped off and walked by me. She went to Canterbury. I knew her from fifth grade. She looked at me for a moment as though she recognized me. But, then shook her head and went off. I guess I had changed enough that I just looked like ‘Sam.’ I began to worry if I had made a mistake.

Mom must have caught that brief exchange, because after Clara left, she said, “Don’t worry. Now that you are so girly, no one can see the old you.” I hung on to that for the rest of the day. I changed out of the choir outfit into a girly dress to keep my identity secure. We went back downstairs and watched different choirs perform. Some were okay. Some were very good. All in all, I was invisible and that was a good thing.

At nine that night, the winners of the first round and their scores would be published. Only the choirmasters were allowed to be in the room when it was announced. We had to wait with baited breath in the hallway near our rooms for Mr. Thompson to come up and announce our fate. The elevator opened. He came out looking sad. Our hearts sank. Then, all of a sudden, he smiled and jumped up and down. “We did it! We did it! First time in years, we did it! We came in sixth place in the opening round. But, we did it!” We had a brief confab. Our performance was going to be at eleven the next day. There was a change this year and they had lots for choosing what slots went to whom after third, second, and first got the plum slots of twelve, two, and four.

“Mr. Thompson, I have friends at Canterbury. Did they make it?”

“No, Jackie. And they seemed very angry about it. Rumor has it they are heading home right now.”

“Oh. I am sorry to hear that.” Inside, I was jumping for joy. Now, I could just focus in on the next day.

Grace came up to me and patted me on the back. “Good job, Jackie. I really enjoyed your song.”

"Thank you, Grace. I wondered if my knocking knees could be heard while I was singing."

“Well, you certainly didn’t look nervous to me.”

“Thanks. But that isn’t how I felt.”

I went back into our room. Mom hugged me and said, “See, I told you so. I said you would be fine and you were.” We sat in bed and talked. I liked having quality time with her. Since we could sleep late the next morning, a few girls knocked on our door. Mary, Grace, and Eylsa came in. I pulled out the guitar and we starting singing fun songs.

Before eleven, Mom kicked everyone out for the night. I slept well. The next morning, we went down to breakfast, ate, and then met in one of the conference rooms to prepare for our second performance. I was looking forward to it. It was me on the piano for all but one of the songs. It was kind of wonderful not to have to sing. At eleven, we entered the auditorium to perform. Elysa performed the Coventry Carol first. Then Grace and John performed a duet from South Pacific along with the choir. Followed by the choir doing a song without the piano. They sang a nice round at the end with ‘Summer is a comin in’ with everyone leaving the stage singing the song. It was beautiful and a bold step to finish our performance by using a medieval song to end the set and use it as an exit song.

The rest of the day was watching other performances or mingling with the other schools and sharing stories. I hung out with Mary. About six, during an assembly, they announced the winners. The announcer began to announce who came in third. “And in third place, Danver’s Middle School, Spring Valley!” The applause was immediate in our section and we began to mount the stage to take our place. Third place. The first time ever the school ever made it to the second round, they won third place. We were elated. Sure, first place would have been great, but getting to third was absolutely thrilling. Not only that, we were the only middle school from our school district that even made to the second round.

Elysa did the television interview. She wanted me to join her, but I waved her off. I didn’t want any spotlight on me. It was my first real competition in which I took it seriously and it felt good to have won something with my team. Instead of being the reason we lost, I was the reason they got to the second round and won.

As we walked to the bus to take us back home, I said, “Mom.”

“Yes, honey.” We put our luggage in the back of the bus.

“Thank you. This feels good. I would never have had this success without you. This is a new feeling for me.”

She whispered in my ear. “You know, there have been times I have questioned if this was the right decision for you, but seeing you blossom is the miracle I have always prayed about.”

On Monday morning, it was announced at a special school assembly that we came in third in the competition. Mr. Thompson called us up and gave recognition to each one of us. When it came to me, he said, "And, the secret weapon we had this year was this young lady. She made the choir outfits we are wearing from scratch so we could raise funds during Christmas. She played the guitar and the piano for the choir during the competition. And she sang a solo that helped us get to the second day of the competition. She epitomizes what a team player is all about. Thank you, Jackie Miller!" The choir turned around and applauded me. I did the only thing I could do after saying thank you. I cried. They all gave me a group hug. I cried even more.

During drama class, Mrs. Duncan pulled me aside. “Jackie, I am so proud of you.”

"Thank you, Mrs. Duncan."

“I wanted to ask you if you would like to help me with a special project?”

“What is that Mrs. Duncan?”

“I want to put together a group of students who had done the Shakespeare class and do a video that I can send to the schools. I want to show what we do during the summer. Would you be willing to help?”

“Sure, I would love to do it. Except, I don’t want it to come out that I am a boy in the video. I am still undercover.”

“That is true. But, I don’t think that will happen. What I want to do is to make an ad. I really need you to make the costumes and help me direct it and put it together. Nothing more.”

“I would be thrilled.”

Mary and I went to the office at the end of the day. It was the first time in months we didn’t have to practice for a performance. We just wanted to hang out. I told her about what Mrs. Duncan wished to do. We decided to talk to her and see what we could get done quickly. Summer was fast approaching. And we want her to have a good class this year.

When we got home, I had a special surprise. Agent Debbie was there. It seems that the bureau approved her being my and Tommy’s designated liaison. She walked up to my mom. “I have to talk to both your guardian ad litems, parents, etc. We have a mission at the end of the month. But, that is not why I am here.”

“Why then?” I asked.

She smiled, "Jacqueline Murphy would like to meet you. If you don't mind, I have been sent to get you and take you to her."

“Does that mean I get to see Miranda too?”

“Of course. Do you mind, Pamela?”

“If I said no, I think she would disown me.” Mom laughed. “Where does she want to meet up with Samantha.”

“Well, she and the family are going to be a Discovery Zone in about an hour. I can drive you up there. It won’t be glamorous. They just have pizza. But, it is a fun place for Miranda. I would suggest you get changed into some comfortable jeans so you can follow her around the tubes.”

“Will Agent Carlson be there?”

“Yes. Remember our agreement.”

“Yes Ma’am.” I looked at Mom. She gave me a curious look.

“Okay, go get changed. I think Mary wants to spend time with Doug anyway. Tell me about it when you get home. Have her back by ten. It is a school night. I can have her Grandpa drive her to school and let her sleep a little later. She has been working hard anyway.”

I hugged Mom and Mary. I ran upstairs and got changed. I put my hair in a ponytail. Then I had a thought. I changed and raced back downstairs. "Mom, can you give me a French braid real fast." I handed her a brush and a good elastic to hold my hair. Debbie motioned to my mom to give her the brush. "Here, I can do that. Besides, if it comes out, you need to know that I can do it for you."

I looked at myself in the hall mirror. "Thank you, Debbie. It looks awesome."

The drive took us about twenty minutes north to a Discovery Zone that had just opened in a strip mall. We chatted the whole way about girl stuff. It was a lot of fun. Agent Debbie took me into the Discovery Zone and paid for our entrance fee. After I got my bracelet, I saw Miranda in one of the ball pits. She jumped out and ran towards me. Following her was Agent Carlson, who, once he saw me and Debbie, stopped running. Miranda jumped into my arms. “Samantha, you came! I knew you would.”

I took Debbie's hand and carried Miranda towards Agent Carlson. I know I wasn't supposed to push it, but something told me seeing me hold her hand and holding Miranda would give him ideas about Debbie. Behind him, I saw Mr. Murphy stand up. Sitting with him was this beautiful woman with long blonde hair. She was casually dressed in jeans and a blouse with a beautiful watercolor print of a market scene along the Seine in Paris, France. She had bright blue eyes and a pleasant smile. She was tall. I figure about five eight or so. She wasn’t what I expected from a prosecutor. She looked like she stepped off the pages of a fashion catalog. She looked at me and smiled.

“Samantha, it is so nice to meet you at last!” I put Miranda down and we did a French ‘la bise’ on both cheeks.

On a lark, I responded with, “C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer enfin !” ( It is a great pleasure to meet you finally.)

Imagine my surprise when she said, “Moi aussi. On peut se tutoyer, Samantha. Tu es de ma famille.” (Me too. And we can be informal and use tu instead of vous. You are part of my family.)

“Thank you. I loved having Miranda for a week. She was like a little sister to me. We had so much fun together.”

“Well, I think she thinks you are her big sister too. And, I cannot say how truly grateful we are that you uncovered the plot to have me hurt. It was very brave of you. And, it seems that you aren’t exclusive to our family either. You stepped into the gap and helped the French Ambassador too.”

I looked at her and back at Debbie who just chuckled. “I didn’t tell her.”

I looked back at Mrs. Murphy. “I learned from the State Department. They contacted the agents while I was with them to find out more about what happened. I answered the phone and one thing led to another. The other day, I was sent on a mission to Gibson factory to find a guitar for you. They are calling it ‘The Birthday Incident.’ You act of kindness makes America look very good diplomatically. And, after your undercover work, you may receive a presidential commendation too.”

“That will be nice, But, it won’t stand up to a hug from Miranda, though.” I meant it. I bent down and hugged her.

“Oh, before I forget. The dresses you made for Miranda were beautiful! Thank you. She wore the red dress with lace for an Easter egg hunt on Palm Sunday.”

“I wish I could have been there to see it. We were on a mission that week. And we couldn't do it this last weekend because of the competition."

“How did that go?”

“We came in third. The highest we have ever done. The guitar you got for me gave me so much confidence too. Thank you!"

Miranda was getting antsy listening to us talk. “Good! Carlson, Debbie, why don’t you guys sit over there and watch the door. I think that Miranda wants to play with Samantha for a while. Then we will have pizza. Here are some knee pads for you Samantha. I know you are still a kid, but you are too big for the tubes now. It will save your knees.”

I took them and put them on, I followed Miranda into the tubes and we played for about an hour. I was nearly exhausted. She, of course, could easily climb through the tubes. She led me by the hand to Murphy's table. I spied Debbie and Carlson talking. They seemed to be hitting it off. I looked back at Mrs. Murphy and realized she was thinking the same thing. "You are playing matchmaker, aren't you?"

She looked back at me and winked. “Yeah, I see it too. I thought I would push them together.”

I laughed and quietly said. “Well, great minds. I told Debbie this last weekend that he was on your protection detail and I would love her to be my liaison.”

Mrs. Murphy looked at me sternly. “Tsk, tsk. You are a really bad girl. How old are you? Twelve, and you are arranging the love lives of adults.” Then she giggled and held out her hand for me to shake. “I am glad to meet a fellow conspirator.”

I found out that she learned French at Middlebury College in Vermont where she did her undergraduate work. From there, she went on to Stanford Law School. Her maiden name is Dutch, Meyer, and both her parents immigrated to the United States from Holland before she was born. Her dad was an engineer who worked at NASA on the Apollo space program. He was a well-known expert in metallurgy and rocket engines. She grew up in Alabama. She learned French because she loved anything French growing up. With her parents being Dutch, she shunned learning their native tongue. She can understand spoken Dutch but doesn't speak it. She considers French her second language.

Miranda was getting tired. We finished our pizza and said that they had to get going.

“Please, I know my parents would love to have you come down to see us. We would love to have you for dinner. We would love to see more of you and Miranda.”

“I will tell you what. I have a lot of work to do with this trial. Ask your parents if they wouldn't mind having Miranda and her Dad overnight? I know he is bored and … "

“Honey, I am not that bored. But, it would be nice to do some guy stuff with Samantha’s dad and grandfather.”

“Okay, let me ask my folks. But, I bet it will happen.”

As we were leaving, Debbie and Carlson were talking. I patiently waited for them outside and let them talk in private.

“Thank you, Samantha. Let’s get you home.” She pretended that nothing happened between them.

I just stared at her and said nothing. “Okay, okay. I know you want to know. Yes, we will be going out on a date. Don’t you say a word about it!” I took an invisible key and locked my mouth and threw away the key. “Satisfied?”

“Yes. And it had better stayed locked, young lady.” She sounded stern.

“I will say just one thing and let it drop. I am your official excuse. You may use me as a cover and I promise I won’t contradict you.” I said. “It is the least I can do for someone who my grandpa says has my six.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I ask you one thing though, Debbie.”

"Not about my love life."

“Oh no, not about that.”

“Then what do you need an answer to then?”

“Debbie, I am embarrassed to ask my Grandpa. And I really want to know.”

“Out with it, Samantha, we don’t have all night.”

“What is a six?”

Debbie burst out laughing.

“Sweetie, fighter pilots used to tell their gunners where the target was they were shooting by using a clock. Straight ahead is twelve o’clock. Behind you is six o’clock. Since you can see behind you, someone who watches your six looks out for what you can’t see.”

“Oh good! I thought it meant that he was protecting me from being six feet under.”

“That is not a bad way of translating it either. But, six means he will look out for what you can't see that can hurt you.”

She dropped me off before ten. I didn’t tell my Mom about Debbie and Carlson. Mom had driven Mary home with Doug in tow earlier. They had a nice date. I guess I wasn’t missed tonight. Except by Mom. We sat on my bed brushing each others hair for about thirty minutes. I told her all about Mrs. Murphy and then asked her about having Miranda and her Dad stay with us during the week. She smiled and said that would not be a problem so long as Grandpa was there.

I met with the Endocrinologist before my meeting with Erin. My hormone levels are perfect. I told him Doug gives me my daily dose and makes sure I sticking to the program. The advantage to that is that no one sees my pills. On the days I am traveling, he gives me a pill in a plastic container and the time to take them. It is a system that is working very well. But, I don’t know how it will work in September when he goes away to school. Doug tells me that he has a solution that he will bring up to me at the time.

After seeing him, I went to Erin’s office for my monthly tea party.

“Why didn't you confront Madame Lafarge right away. You had every right to do that?"

“I don’t know. I have been taught to respect adults. And she was very commanding.”

“Well, we will have to work on your reaction to being bullied. Although this turned out okay, I am concerned that you need to improve your assertiveness. I don't want to teach you how to be disobedient, but I do want to teach you how to handle a bully. And, it sounds like from the discussion you had with Tommy, he is aware too of your personality trait. Just something to work on. In the meantime, I have a new task for you."

I took a sip of my tea. “What is that?”

“I want you to learn about the women in your family that are no longer living. I suspect that if you do, you will learn how to be assertive in a good way. Now, about your reaction to Dean and what you knew was in his pants. How did that make you feel? And be honest.”

I blushed and said in a low voice, “Sexy.”

“What did you say? A little louder.”

I stammered, “S-sexy.”

Erin grinned. “Is that a good feeling to have?”

“Um, maybe.” I said coyly.

“Sounds like Samantha is growing up a little bit.” Erin smirked.

“Yea, but Doug talked to me about it. He warned me that my hormones would create an impulse control issue. He said that you would advise me to practice impulse control.”

“And he would be right. That is why I brought it up. I want you to realize that the surgery that you will eventually have is a kind of plastic surgery. You will still be biologically male. But, socially and physically, you will fully function as a female except for the ability to become pregnant. For you, when that time comes that you have SRS surgery, you will be able to have sex without consequences which raise concerns. Impulse control is an important skill for you to acquire now. That is why I want to work on your assertiveness. I want to teach you how to say no and mean it. I don't want a boy bullying you into sex. You are a very compliant person and eager to please. And that is a danger. You could be misused."

“Thank you. How do you propose to do it without my ticking off somebody?”

“If you don’t mind, I would like to have Doug come in and we can do role playing. That way you can practice saying no. I am sure that Doug won’t mind helping.”

“And if I say no?” I said innocently with a smirk on my face.

“Samantha, you got me on that one!” She shook her finger at me and laughed at my joke.

“Yes, please. I know I need your help. I want to learn.” I said.

“Anything more that you would like to talk about, Samantha?”

“I spent an hour or so in the hospital’s garden while Jane disappeared to talk to a friend. It was soon after I saw her using a test in the bathroom.”

“Let me guess. She went to the third floor of this building?”

“Yes.”

“Good. What I suspected is true. What did you do? Did you say anything?”

“Nothing. I said thank you and that I needed time to write letters to Yvonne and Evelyn. I purchased a couple of nice yellow roses from the gift shop first. When she came down to pick me up, I handed them to her saying that I gave roses to Mom and I should give her some too. She smiled and hugged me. I could see a tear in her eye. She was happy to help me post the letters and we went home.”

“Well, things are working out after all.”

“Oh! There is going to be a second sting this month. It will be in St. Louis. So, we will have an extra session next month.”

We hugged and I left our session with a smile on my face. Mom drove me home. She was pleased to hear that I would be given assertiveness training. She agreed that Doug could really help me.

Sitting in my room later, doing my homework and listening to Chopin, Dad walked in and stood behind me and rubbed my shoulders.

“I am proud of you Samantha. You are really growing up. Third place! Wow. Would you like some more new good news?”

I turned and took his hand. “What news, Daddy?”

“I have been contacted by the American consulate in Australia. They are arranging for you to come to Australia for two weeks in June. The State Department has also arrange for you to spend time with Natasha doing a trip to Boston. So, that is another trip to see your uncle and aunt. It means you can’t do Shakespeare, but you can go to Sovereign Hill. There is one negative though.”

“What would that be, Daddy?”

“I won’t be able to come with my baby girl on her journey. But, your Mom and Grandpa are going with you. And Doug will join you on your trip to Boston too. He wants to scope out were he will be going to school. I am sure going to miss him.”

“Yeah, I am going to miss him too. I don’t know how I am going to handle eighth grade without him.”

I hugged my Dad. “I love you, Daddy!”

“I love you too, Princess.” I melted into his embrace and the world stopped for just a brief moment and I could take a breath again. Dad then motioned me to go over to the bed. He grabbed the brush and began brushing my hair.

“Thank you, Daddy, but why are you brushing my hair?”

“I saw your Mom doing it for you the other night. It occurred to me that I never did that with Jane. I wondered what it was like.”

We sat there and talked for almost an half an hour. I think Daddy liked it. I know I loved it.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[Author’s note: I posted early because I am going away this weekend. I won’t have internet access. And, I didn’t people to wait too long.

Discovery Zone went bankrupt, sadly, in the late 90s. It was a great place for kids to play. I was happy to use it as a vehicle for the story to advance the story.

Anyone from a certain area in Virginia will know the actual restaurant that the gang visited in reality. I have fond memories of that restaurant. I changed the name to protect the restaurant. But, if you are in Catawba, VA, ask where to get good southern grub. Make sure you eat after a hike to Tinker’s Cliffs so you can work up an appetite and have seen an incomparable view that goes with an incomparable meal. And also be sure to wear loose fitting clothes. It is as close to a feast in heaven as you will ever find on earth.

Oh, about the conversation between Samantha and Debbie at the restaurant. Remember, Virginia is for Lovers. I couldn’t find a way to work that into the story. I tried. :-]

Until next week, at my normal time. – AuP ]

Chapter 20 – Last Dance?

Dean and his mom dropped me at home after our ice dancing class. What Dean had just told me at the end of our class was devastating. I had to bite my tongue all the way home and sound like I was okay. It came out of the blue. I rushed across the street to see Doug before anyone could see me. Thankfully, he was home alone. I did the only thing I could do at that point. I fell into his arms and sobbed in pain free of the need to hide my reaction.

“What is it?” Doug asked. The concern in his voice was genuine and reassuring. That is one of the nice things about Doug. He has a good ear. He was my medicine for a broken heart.

In between sobs, I blurted out, “Dean is leaving me!”

“What do you mean leaving you?”

I held my tears back for a moment. I gargled out through sobs, “His Dad just got a new job in Atlanta. He is moving there after the end of school. I am losing him! I am losing my partner. What am I going to do?”

Doug just held me. There wasn’t anything he could say that would sooth me. I needed to get this out before my parents saw me. I didn’t want them to know that the boy I think I loved was leaving and my soul felt crushed.

“Just let it out.” Doug said the only right thing he could. I needed to let it all go. For seven months, Dean and I had been forming an intimate bond. He knew how I felt. His words to me after the lesson were if I wanted to stop our lessons that he would understand. I stupidly answered that I would think about it. I must have come off cold and calculating. The truth was that I was a deer caught in the headlights. Mrs. Pilsner couldn’t have been nicer when she walked up at the rink to take us home. I think she could tell I just got the news.

When I had calmed down enough for us to talk, Doug asked, “When is he leaving?”

“First week of June I think. He said the company would sell their home and help them find a new one in Atlanta.”

Doug cut to the quick. “Do you love him?”

“I think so. I don’t know. I have never been in love before. Mom has been very good about keeping our relationship very basic. I can’t do much with her at the school watching us either.”

“Okay, Sis. Here is what I want you to tell your parents. Concentrate on telling them you are upset because you lost a dance partner which means not doing something you have come really to love. But, you can talk to me about your feelings about Dean. Okay?”

I blew my nose and hugged Doug. “Okay.” We went outside and sat on his porch. The day was warm and the breeze was consoling for my bruised heart. It brought the scent of spring flowers and of freshly cut grass. The birds were singing.

“You better touch up your make up. I can tell you have been crying.” Doug stroked my back and gave me a brief hug.

I reached in my purse and grabbed my little kit. I made corrections and cleaned myself up.

I looked up the street and watched someone run the stop sign at a slow speed. I turned to Doug and said finally, “I think I love him. But, how do I know for sure?”

“If I could answer that one with clarity, I would have my own talk show. I would be the Phil Donahue of love rather than the Jay Leno of love here on this porch. Okay, take it from the beginning. What transpired?”

I placed my hands on the bench with a firm grip as if I could gain strength from it. “We finished our lesson. Dean was making huge progress. I was amazed at how far he had come. He can really hold his edges and we were doing basic quick steps on the ice. We were starting to look like we can ice dance. I was thrilled and I think he was too. That is, I thought he was. As we were unlacing our skates, Dean told me that he had something serious to tell me before his Mom showed up. His Dad, an executive with a manufacturing firm, had gotten a job with a company based out of Atlanta. It would mean double the money he was making now and that they could pay for his college. But it also meant that he would have to move to Atlanta too.”

Doug processed what I said for a moment carefully organizing his thoughts. “Did he say how he felt about you?”

“Not exactly. He hugged me and cried a little. He said would miss me. And that we could stay in touch. He then asked if I would …” I broke down and sobbed for a moment. “… like to continue our lessons anyway. And that is when I stupidly said I would think about it.” I looked down and blushed from the shame of what I said.

When I looked back up at Doug, he scrunched his face. He then looked me in the eye. “Have you told him yet that you love him?”

I responded defensively, “Well, if he wasn’t going to say he loved me, I just didn’t see a reason to give up my feelings too. Not at that moment. He is the one leaving me after all!”

He calmly replied, “Someone needs to express how they feel before it is too late.”

I pleaded, “But, he is leaving. We can’t have a long distance romance unless he realizes he is in love with me first. Right?”

“Regardless, expressing your feelings now will make a difference in your next relationship. You will carry the wounds of this relationship into the next one. Healing them now will mean that you both will make better choices in your next relationship if there is to be one and if you are to remain together, it will make your relationship stronger if you communicate sooner rather than later.”

I sounded a little terse and jerked my eyes back to the road. “Is that Dr. Cramer talking?”

“Maybe. A little. But, I know, as the doctor I want to be, that a patient needs to heal completely or else they could become injured the same way or worse the next go around.”

I sat and thought about what Doug said for a moment. He was being a good friend. He was being honest. I softened. I apologetically said, “You are right. I need to express how I feel to him. If for no other reason that I do love him and want the best for him. Even if it isn’t meant to be me. And, I will begin with you. I love my brother. He is my best friend and I don’t know where I would be if it weren’t for him.” I hugged Doug. “Thank you! I love you, Bro!”

Doug said affectionately, “I love you too, Sis!”

I went home and prepared dinner for the evening. We were having fish and chips plus salad. I made chocolate ice cream the day before for dessert.

“Are you okay?” I looked up from my meal and saw that Mom was looking at me with a worried expression.

“It hurts to say goodbye. We have had a lot of fun dancing and ice dancing. I guess it was me who I thought would do the leaving.”

Jane interjected, “I am so sorry, Pipsqueak. What are you going to do?”

I poked at my food. “I just don’t know if I should call him and tell him that I would love to finish out our ice dancing class or not. It just isn’t going to be the same without him this summer. Or even next fall.”

“I know. You really looked forward to your dance classes with him. But, you knew that sooner or later it was going to end, right?” Dad asked. “Maybe it is better this way. Just quit while you are ahead.” The last part hurt. I winced.

“Yeah. Maybe it is better this way.” I bit my tongue, but I must have sounded angry. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Mind if I go write my thank you letter to the French Ambassador? I think I want to be alone for a bit.”

“Go ahead. I think you need to have a little time to yourself.” Mom said. She gave my Dad a glance as if she was disappointed with what he said. I heard her talking sternly to him as I left the dining room.

I went upstairs and started to work on a thank you letter for the guitar. I finished it quickly and then sat there thinking about the turn of events. I was getting depressed at the prospect of losing my first love before I even had a chance to explore what that meant. Mom came in a little while latter to check on me. She took one look at me and said, “C’mon. Your hair needs brushing.” I dragged myself over to my bed without much complaint.

“Thanks mom.” As she began brushing my hair, I asked, “Is it always so hard to say goodbye?”

“Yes. Especially for you right now. You have only recently started to make friends. And, now, you have a good friend that if you weren’t in a dress, you could easily be friends with in class anyway. And, you can’t express to him how you really feel about your friendship because you are in disguise.” She kept brushing my hair and I felt myself relaxing. Her words made sense.

“I heard how Dad would handle it. How would you handle this, Mom?”

“I really can’t say. But, I think I would finish the ice dancing course and keep your friendship going until the end of school. That is what you would have done anyway. Or rather, what I might have done. I have made so many friends over the years in school only to make new ones the next year and have old friendships end. There is every possibility that your friendship with Dean would have only lasted this school year. And even if it continued, you would wake up one day and he would be gone. Take your Dad. He has only one friend from his youth, Chris, that he sees on a regular basis.”

I thought about what she said. Her rhythmic brushing was easing my conflicting emotions and allowing them to become focused. “I can see that. Like the man he ran into at the hotel whose daughter got married. He hadn’t seen him for years.” I reflected on the magical dance we had and how much it meant to me. Then a horrible thought hit me. “Does this mean it could happen with Mary too?”

“I have to be honest. It could mean Mary too. You and Mary will continue for a long time. You both have grown too close for you two not to remain close. But, come college, sooner or later, you could find yourselves just writing Christmas cards to each other like I do with my best girlfriend Stacy from middle school. When she and Bobby got married, we went our separate ways. Of course, I always knew they were going to get married after I found out that she was a bridesmaid at the wedding of Bobby’s sister, Pat.”

She finished brushing my hair and handed me the brush. She smiled as I re-positioned myself on the bed and began to brush her hair. “So, in the past you have felt like I do?”

“Oh yes. I ran home plenty of times in tears because a relationship ended when someone didn’t talk to me anymore or said something mean to me or they left.”

“Did it ever get easier?”

“No. Not really. You are going to feel pain for awhile no matter what. There is no getting around it. The question you have to ask is how you want it to end so you can live with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you could call it quits now and only see him in school like Dad thinks you should do. Or, you could finish the class and then say goodbye on those terms.”

“But, which is the right decision?”

“That is up to you. They both have merits. And each situation is unique. I am sure you will do the right thing.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“For what?”

“Listening and not telling me what to do. You are letting me grow up, aren’t you?”

“Yep. I am.”

“I think it would be best to finish the class. We both enjoy it and it will be nice to have more memories of being with my good friend.”

“There’s my good girl! You came up with this one on your own.” We hugged. I liked our mother and daughter chats. My mother is a wise woman.

I talked to Dean the next day. I pulled him aside as we went into choir room.

“Dean, I had a night to think about it. I want to continue with our ice dancing lessons, if you don’t mind.” He smiled.

“I-I w-was h-hoping you w-would s-say that.” He seemed relieved.

“And Dean, there is something important I need to tell you though.”

“W-what?”

I pulled him further away from the other students so we had some privacy. “I don’t know what it means yet or really what it is about, but, I love you.” Dean looked at me and blushed.

“I-I l-love you t-too.”

“I know we will move on and meet other people. Maybe we can get together one day. Who knows. But, I wanted you to know that you are my first love and always will be. If that is the only thing I can give you, then I wanted you to have it before you left.”

“Y-you a-are my f-first k-kiss and f-first l-l-love too.”

He took my hand. I said, “Thank you.”

“C-can w-we g-go to the l-last d-dance of the s-school y-year t-too?”

“I will have to check my calendar back home, but I would love to go to the school dance with you. Yes.”

Checking my calendar, I found there was a conflict with the stings. I called Debbie who said she would get back with me. An hour or so later, she called and the sting was moved to the following weekend. Dean was happy to find out the next day that it was a definite yes.

Grandma picked me up from school instead of Mom driving me home. I had a special appointment. Once I got to my grandparents’ place, I pulled out of her car’s boot the suitcase she brought for me and took it up to her condo. In it was a long flowing dress I had made. I put it on and she helped me with the ribbons. She brushed out my hair and put a ribbon in the back. As part of their condo’s common area, they had a lawn and a gazebo surrounded by flowers. It was more decorative than functional. When we got down to it, I saw Cat with his easel and paint kit. But, on the easel was a big sketch pad. I was delighted when he came up and gave me a French ‘bise.’

“Merci, mon ami.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t speak French, but I think I sure can paint it.” Cat looked casual and relaxed. He was in a long sleeved polo dress shirt. He had a short leather apron with artist tools. And, he had a baseball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes. He didn’t look like Monet. But, he did look like Cat.

He set about giving me several poses to do and started sketching me. It was wonderful. For about an hour, all he did was sketch me in various poses from different angles. He even had props for me which included daises, roses, and other bouquets of flowers. Finally, he called me over to the gazebo and laid the various sketches out on the floor. I marveled at how he critiqued his own work.

He asked me if I had any preference. I told him that he was the master and I was just the subject of the work. I trusted his judgment. Finally, he pointed to a pose with me holding a bouquet of red roses and looking off towards a lake where there were men fishing. He could tell by my smile that I loved it.

“I don’t know why, but it speaks to me too.” He said.

And then, he began to have me pose again. As a I stood there, he talked to me.

“Why are you so sad, Samantha?”

“How can you tell?”

“I am an artist. I am trained to read people. That is why I picked this pose for you. Your sadness makes it an interesting piece.”

“My friend Dean is leaving at the end of next month. He and I have been dance partners since September.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, I think so. But, I have never been in love before.”

“I will tell you what, when I am done, chose one of the sketches and you can get it framed. You can give it to him as a going away gift.”

“Thank you, Cat. That is very kind of you. In fact, all of this is very kind of you. I am so honored.”

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you known who you are?”

“Since I can remember. I was too intimidated to say anything more after my grandmother got mad at me.”

“Well, I am glad that you have found a way to be your true self. It suits you. Even when you are sad, you seem happier than before.”

“Cat, I was wondering, if I hadn’t had this opportunity to come out, would you have talked to me about it?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I saw your inner struggle and knew. I just didn’t have enough information to know whether I would have made it better or worse for you. I am an artist. I don’t think I would make a good psychologist.”

“That’s okay. I was just curious.” We chatted on and off as he painted. I was grateful for the late summer hours we had. Sunset would be after eight o’clock giving him really good light.

After what seemed like ages, Cat called me over to look at the painting. It was gorgeous. It showed me standing at edge of the gazebo looking out towards a lake with my hands holding on to a bouquet of red roses. I looked at the lake and on it was a boat with men in it fishing. My smile and face were radiant. The image conveyed that like the fish, I had been baited and hooked by the roses. I hadn’t noticed it, but the roses had a ribbon and a card attached. Obviously, someone had given me the roses and I was pleased. My dress was beautiful and my hair charming. I looked French, innocent, and naive. I also looked in love. I guess because, in a sense, I was innocent and naive. Looking at the fishermen and realizing I had been caught, the little sadness in my face gave it a sense of not foreboding, but of concern or fear that I would become just another catch.

“I thought it would take multiple sessions and would take forever.” I said. I was amazed by the completeness of the painting.

“Not in the impressionistic style. It was a method of painting quickly. I mean, I still have a lot of work to do on it, but the basics are there. I should have it done by the end of the week.”

“Thank you, Cat. You are amazing.” I hugged him.

“So are you. It wasn’t hard to capture someone so beautiful.” I blushed.

“But I am sad about one thing I couldn’t capture.”

“What is that, Cat?”

“Your pretty smell, obviously. I like the perfume you are wearing. It is very nice.” I turned even more red.

Grandma wandered down stairs to see our progress. She was amazed by the painting too. She asked if she could have a copy. I stepped away so they could negotiate. They worked out an agreement for the price. So, there would be two paintings. One in my home and one in my grandparents. Cat winked at me. I knew what he was thinking. It would make it easier for everyone if they could see me everyday as a young lady in love.

The fact of the matter was that I was a young girl in love. I was awakening to the reality that one day I would be a wife, a mother, and a lover. That painting caught a view of my future and I was thrilled. In one sense, Cat painted me into a corner. In another sense, he caught me as I became Samantha, the woman. I didn’t just feel or look girly in the painting. I was all girl. No hint of boy and his puppy dog tails. Just puppy love.

As I regarded the painting, Cat asked, “Do you mind modeling for a few more painting, Samantha?”

Grandma answered for me. “I think that would be fine, Cat. As long as it is like this wonderful painting and nothing undressed or suggestive.”

“Of course not, Mrs. Miller. And thank you for the complement.” Cat turned to me and winked. “I like your grandmother. She is keeping me honest.”

The next night, I got dressed in a lovely dress I had recently acquired. I did my hair and nails. And I spritzed a little perfume on me. I put on some wedges and Mom dropped me off at the Hinks. I rang the doorbell and stood back wondering how I would be received.

A lovely teenage girl with a nice figure answered the door. She looked a little like Tommy, albeit more girly, of course. And she did look familiar as if I might have seen her before. She was wearing what looked like Baby Phat jeans and a simple top. She had studded ears. Her hair was long and parted in the middle. I might have seen her at Canterbury for sure if I had but opened my eyes more.

She, in response to my obvious inspection of her, looked me up and down checking me out. I must have passed her test because she smiled warmly. “You must be Samantha. A real pleasure. I am Connie.” She put out her hand to shake mine.

I took her hand and also gave her a French ‘bise’ on both cheeks too. I noticed she wasn’t startled by this. In fact, I think she expected it. “Yes, I am. Thank you for inviting me to dinner. It was very kind of you. I think your jeans are cute too. Aren’t they Baby Phat? ”

“Why yes, they are.” I could tell she was impressed that I knew the company and had some fashion sense.

Anticipating her next question, I said, “Well, when you play an almost teenage girl in school, you are bound to learn a few things about fashion. For example, I recently saw this dress in a catalog and just had to have it.”

She warmly said, “I like that choice of dress on you. It looks good on you. I couldn’t wear it though. It isn’t my coloring or body type. But it is real cute on you.”

“Oh my!” I twirled around. “Do you really like it on me?”

“Oh yes.” She was clearly having trouble believing I was a boy by now and responded as she might with another girlfriend. “It looks good and fits you pretty well in all the right places.”

“Thanks!” I answered sounding rather giddy. “It is so nice to have an opinion from someone who knows what she is talking about.”

Tommy came up behind her and I also gave him a kiss on both checks. “Hi Tommy. You look handsome tonight.” He blushed as well as I did too. I did not realizing how much like a girl I was behaving until those words escaped my mouth.

Mrs. Hinks poked her head into the hallway from what I thought was the kitchen. “C’mon guys! Invite her in. Have you told her about our special guest yet?”

“No, Mom.” Tommy turned to me. “Bill is coming over later. He wants to talk to me and my folks. He was thrilled to hear that you would be here too.”

They led me into their living room. A man was reading the paper in a sedan chair when we came in. He folded it and put it down. He stood up and came over to greet me. He stood at least six foot two. He was greying in his temples, his hairline receding, with his hair being a much darker shade of Tommy’s hair. His face was kind and was offset nicely by his dark eyebrows which had a few grey hairs in them to complement his temples. His eyes were brown and puppy dog like. He had Tommy’s engaging smile set off by a cleft chin that made his smile irresistible and friendly. “Hi, I am Todd Hinks, the father of these two little rascals. And you must be Samantha! My, you are a very pretty girl!” I blushed again.

“Thank you sir. That is very kind of you to say.”

“No, I mean it. I can see why they want to have you work for them. If I hadn’t known, I would never suspected a thing.”

Gratefully, Tommy changed the subject. “I heard you came in third. We went home too soon. We should have stayed around to support you. But, a lot of our adults wanted to get home since it was Easter weekend. Bad timing, I guess.”

“There was little they could do. The competition has always been the second weekend of the month in April. This year it meant it was on Easter.”

Connie spoke up. “I hear from our choir members that you did a great solo and a terrific job at the piano and guitar. You are a very talented girl, er, I mean ...”

“Please, don’t correct yourself. My disguise is my protection. If you correct yourself, you may reveal to someone who I really am. In fact, my Mom insists that I dress as a girly girl for that reason.”

“Don’t your parents miss the real you?” Mr. Hinks asked sounding rather puzzled.

“I suppose they do. But, they also know that I am safer as I am and they can sleep at night. I guess it is a little different for you since Tommy isn’t in disguise.” That explanation seemed to make sense to him.

“Well, they have instituted some changes. Tommy doesn’t go or come home from school alone plus a few other things. But, aside from that, it hasn’t really changed much.” Mr. Hinks motioned me to follow him into the dining room.

The dinner was very straight forward. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, and some veggies. New York cheesecake for dessert with sugared strawberries. The conversation at the table was amiable and varied. I found out that Mr. Hinks worked in home construction ordering supplies and managing deliveries to the homes being built. He said on special occasions, to get the right material or product, he has needed to use the city’s engineer’s office for special permits which is where he had encountered my Dad. He liked him because he told it straight. And, in the final analysis, that helped him get permitted quicker than a round robin approach that cost time as each thing was dealt with by his company while the city held back on telling him all that needed to be done.

Connie, expressed her gratitude for what I did for her. She skipped the subject after that and concentrated on what a good job I did passing for a girl. I enjoyed hearing about what a good job I was doing.

Just after dessert, the doorbell rang, and Bill came in to discuss with the Hinks what and why of how he became a vice officer years ago before joining the state police.

“I want both you, Tommy, and you, Samantha, to hear why I got into law enforcement. And, I want you, Connie, to hear it too since you were a victim also. I think it will help you understand why what you all are doing is so important.”

“I grew up in a family of means. They lived in a neighborhood that had a golf course. It was surrounded by the local Country Club. Some homes were mansions. Some were modest, but upscale. I lived in one of the modest, but upscale homes. Every year, the Country Club put on a Club championship for the men in the middle of October. It lasted for four days and all the stops were pulled out for those in the tournament to have a good time, win or lose. One year, when I was thirteen, I wandered onto the golf course from my home to watch the men play. I was just taking up golf and wanted to watch how men played from the tee and the green. They had a refreshment tent set up between the sixth green and the seventh tee with drinks and snacks for the men. It was run by a college grad student who had been hired to be a kind of bartender for the men coming through. I began to talk to the bartender in between foursomes. For a thirteen year old kid to be around so much soda and goodies was awesome.”

“Let’s call the bartender Eric. I talked to Eric about what college was like. He appeared to be a real nice guy. He even gave me free sodas. After a couple of hours, I went home. I came back the next day to watch even more golf. Eric, I didn’t realize, was directing our conversation to be more and more intimate. The subject of girls got brought up. I talked about how tough it was to get to know them when I was just a freshman and a nobody. Then, I don’t know how, the subject of my body got brought up. How much hair I had yet and what I thought of my looks while naked. It all seemed so innocent the way I was being asked. I mentioned something that any doctor would have told me was normal about my appearance. I won’t describe it because of Connie being here, but essentially, body parts are often unequal when they first spring forth in puberty for both men and women. And I was no different.”

“However, Eric used that as leverage to tell me that he could show me how to massage myself to get rid of that inequity. I fell for it not knowing any better. While massaging my privates, which I felt uncomfortable with as he did it, he said that he and some of his friends would love me to join their group the next day, which was a Saturday. And by friends, I got the message that they were all guys. By then, I knew something was wrong. I politely retreated and left the tent. I was embarrassed and conflicted at what just happened. I felt I couldn’t tell my parents because I had brought this on myself. I just knew it was wrong. I did nothing, but, at the time, I felt it was my fault. Looking back on it, I should have reported him to the authorities. Yet, I didn’t know how back then even if I had realized I had been molested. Plus, like the teenager I was, I didn’t see beyond myself and that Eric could do this to others.”

“Sounds so much like what happened to me!” Connie was shocked to hear the story, as was I. “Thank you for telling me. I thought I was alone.” Connie was clearly moved by the story.

“Yes, it does. Because it is! And you aren’t alone! As children, you are taught to respect your elders and adults. When someone in authority uses that to get you to do something you shouldn’t normally do, it is wrong. In your case, Connie, you were being what we call, ‘groomed,’ for exploitation. It is important for you to know that the adult doing it to you knows full well what they are doing and count on you being naive and will play on your guilt to get their way. They are dropping your boundaries little by little. They will rationalize it, like Eric did with me no doubt, by saying it is what you wanted. But, at your tender age, it is simply and morally wrong. I was naive and he knew it. Same thing with Josh and you. He knew you were naive and would have exploited you.”

“I find it hard to believe you were naive. How naive were you?” Connie asked.

“Well, the best way I can explain it that back then I didn’t get the classic joke about the vampire wanting to see the teacher next period that I heard in 7th grade until four months after this incident. That is how naive I was back then.”

Tommy was putting two and two together. “So, if you were being molested, does that mean that I could be bait too?”

“Yes, Tommy. That is why I am here. I want you and your parents to consider not just protecting Samantha here. I would like you all to consider letting us use you too in the stings. There are a lot of pedophiles out there who are victimizing boys as well as girls. I am proof of that. We want you to think it over and discuss it. I wanted to tell you this story because it is all too common. Most people will believe a girl’s story long before they will believe that of a boy. I was molested and could have been raped by this man. The odds that I would have been believed at that time were not good. They are much better today.”

Bill sat back in his chair. “Mr. and Mrs. Hinks, Tommy, and Connie. There are a lot of sick people out there. That is why I have my son in Boy Scouts. Starting in 1913, the BSA started background checks on those in scouting to make sure that no one was going to molest a boy. Those standards are improving every year. And the BSA is on the forefront of those changes. Youth Protection is a big deal.”

“How would you use Tommy?” Mr. Hinks asked.

“Well, in this last sting, we used Samantha as an au pair from France. The only change we would make is tell the mark that Tommy is having relations with her and that the ‘Dad’ has video taped them having relations and has photographed it too. But, we will only do this with your permission.”

“That would be it?” Mrs. Hinks inquired.

“Yes. It would mean that we could attract double the marks.”

Tommy looked at me. “Does that mean we would have to hold hands and be all kissy face?”

“Not exactly. Holding hands, yes. Maybe pecks on the cheek. Hugging each other to be sure.” Bill said.

“I could handle that, Sir. Especially after someone tried to drive me nuts at the last sting by giving me cheek kisses and flirting with me in jest. It means I can get her back.” He winked at me. I blushed and looked down. Although, I did have a smile on my face. I certainly enjoyed teasing him.

“Thank you, Bill. You have given us a lot to think about. We will let you know before Friday. And, I am sorry to hear about what happened to you.” Mr. Hinks was very definitive in his voice and I got the impression that the discussion was over.

Bill brought me home. On the way home, I had to ask, “Did you ever find Eric and arrest him?”

“No. But, I am sure he will get caught if he hasn’t already. Sadly, it will be after he has ruined the life of too many boys. It is a regret I will have for the rest of my life.”

“Dr. Cramer has been talking to me about boundaries and learning to set them properly. The more I work with her, the more I learn. I think she has greatly improved my life.”

“I am glad to hear that. She is a remarkable woman and mentor. You listen to her.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Friday, Mom and I flew with Tommy and his Mom to St. Louis. Debbie met us at the airport and took us west towards a small community just off the interstate. It was near the Daniel Boone Home, a place he retired to late in life. Tommy and his parents agreed to the new format of the stings. I think Bill’s confession of what happened to him made it personal and meaningful instead of just asking.

We traveled along a curvy road on a pleasant country road. It was a hilly area. After a bit, we pulled into a two story home that was similar to the one we used in Virginia. I found out real fast that it had a fine kitchen and a pool in the backyard. It did have one feature that the previous home didn’t have. It had a tennis court and basketball court cut into the hill surrounding the home. In all respects, it was a lovely home even though it was a bit isolated. We settled in. Agent Lamont was going to be the Dad again. And, agent Iris was the lookout again. This time, sadly, her little baby boy was back home in Virginia with his Dad.

I heard a woman call out in a pleasant voice, “Samantha!”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I turned around and was pleased to see Agent Iris. “Oh my! It is wonderful to see you again. How is Issac?”

“Issac is in good spirits. He is home and Dad is looking after him. Thank you for the Shepherd's pie. It tasted great. My husband felt very guilty for what happened. And he said he owes you a great deal for taking care of Issac during that time. I must say that I am grateful too. The meal helped us talk. How did you know to send me back with a meal?”

“Simple. You weren’t breast feeding. That meant both of you were so busy that you couldn’t pump and expect to connect with your husband long enough to give him your milk. I guessed that unless you arrived at home with a prepared meal, you two would likely go out to dinner instead of staying at home to work things out. Issac insisted I make you dinner.” I winked.

Debbie patted me on the back. “Nancy Drew again?” I looked at her and grinned.

“Yeah. Besides, it meant I had to cook again. Speaking of which, I have had time to look at the kitchen. Mom has a list of supplies for you. Looks like I am going to have some fun tomorrow morning cooking with Tommy and swimming in the afternoon.”

I began to get into character. Grandpa wasn’t here, so I couldn’t use him to converse with. I did the next best thing. I picked up a book in French. I continued my adventures with Jean-Val-Jean. I grabbed a Walkman I had recently purchased and put in a tape of Jean-Jacques Goldman songs. I spent an hour just listening to French and began to think in French once again. By the time Debbie and Mom came back from the grocery store, I had begun to speak French or English with a French accent.

“Salut. Puis-je vous assister?” (Hello, can I help you?)

“Getting into character? Good girl!” Lamount was happy I was taking things seriously. Tommy just said in a teasing tone, “Oh no, not again.” Tommy rolled his eyes and chuckled.

I gave Tommy a French ‘bise’ on both cheeks and said, “Bien sur !” He blushed.

Mom and I cooked a quick meal for everyone of chicken parmesan and pasta. It was well received. I really enjoyed working with her. The next morning, Tommy and I spent a great deal of time in the kitchen. I taught him how to saute onions, kneed dough, etc. It was fun working with him. The marks came through as they did the time before and they were processed soon after. It was all good. Tommy and I enjoyed flirting in front of them. In fact, we laughed and played together more like a girlfriend and boyfriend.

We served French Onion soup for lunch with Caesar salad. We had brewed up some nice tea earlier in the day. We left the preparations for dinner to Mom.

The sun came around and hit the pool in the afternoon, so after lunch, we changed and headed to the pool. The pool was very nice and had a water feature of a cascading water fall over rocks that almost blended in with the hill behind the home. There was a shower area off the pool and a bathroom shielded from the pool by a wooden slated privacy wall. Agent Jesse was placed on the shower side since he could watch out for us as we worked. The Guardian Ad Litem had insisted on this safety feature.

I wore a one piece again, but this time, I had the courage to use my breast forms to enhance the suit’s look. I trusted that the special glue holding them on would survive the pool. Truth be told, my body was changing. I was developing more curves. Subtle, but there. My butt was getting rounder and my face was losing baby fat. And, recently, I noticed my breast were becoming sensitive.

I could tell that Tommy was intrigued. I had bumps when I came out to the pool. Nice ones too. We began to chat away in French and English like we had before. And, once again, the process started. Only this time, we held hands and acted lovey dovey on chaises or sitting on the side of the pool as we saw the marks pass by in the house. Agent Lamont would stick his head out the sliding door and ask how we were doing.

About two thirty, a mark had been just taken away. We were sitting on the side of the pool when out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash over the rocks of the water feature. I realized what it could be. I calmly looked at Tommy and with a quick side glance allowed my eyes to take in the hill. I apprehended quickly that someone was watching us on the hill behind the home with binoculars. Remaining calm, I took Tommy’s hand and said in a low voice looking down at our hands, “Please do what I say without question. This is not a joke. Walk me over to the wooden wall and start flirting with me with your back against the wall. Please trust me.”

Tommy looked at me for a moment. He could tell by my look I wasn’t joking. He and I got up and started walking over to the wooden wall. He leaned back. I flirted back and said in a low voice, “Agent Jesse. There is somebody on the hill behind the house watching us with binoculars. Tommy and I are going to flirt and play here on the fence while you guys get’em.”

“Roger that.” We then heard him get on the radio and call the lookout agent to report the problem. Tommy and I continued our flirting. I brushed my hair back in a flirtatious way and said to him, “Run your hands over my falsies. We need to keep the person watching us totally engaged.”

“Is this what real ones feel like?” I closed my eyes and pretended to be enjoying it.

“I don’t know. I assume so. I have never done it myself with a real girl. Here, pull back my suit and look down at them. That should give the dude up there something to think about. And don’t worry, these are the falsies I wear for swimming. They don’t look real.”

Tommy pulled out my suit and looked down at them. “Yes, I see what you mean. We kept it up for about ten minutes with us pretending to exam our bodies without actually taking our suits off. Then, Agent Jesse said, “Got him. Why don’t you guys take a break inside while I go check out the kid.”

Tommy and I looked at each other and said in unison, “The kid?”

Inside, Agent Lamont was leading a kid about our age into the den with Debbie following close behind. The kid was clearly scared. He was in handcuffs. Jesse turned to us after he was lead into the processing room, and said, “Neighborhood kid. Likes to watch the people that usually live here from the hill. He probably likes watching them skinny dip in the summer. So, I am sure he was wondering if he had new prey to watch with you two. His secret is out now. Looks like we are going to have an interesting talk with his parents later.”

Tommy turned to me. “Samantha, how did you know? And why were you so calm?”

“I could see the flash of the lenses of the binoculars in the hill. I put two and two together. I knew the agents are our partners. My grandfather has taught me to trust them and that they will know what to do. And I do.”

Agent Jesse spoke next. “She is right, Tommy. Our job is to protect you.” He turned his full attention to Tommy. “Samantha knows that if she sees something she doesn’t like, she need only bring it to our attention and we will do something about it. The same goes for you. Partners watch out for each other. We had a contingency plan for the hill. What we didn’t know is that the back of the hill neighbor had a Peeping Tom for a son who liked to climb the hill and do a little snooping. Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of your name.”

Tommy laughed. “I understand. It’s just that I am amazed at how she did it. I would have panicked and you would have lost the kid.” He looked at me and smiled and shook his head in disbelief.

“You trusted me when I asked you too. I think you are being too hard on yourself, Tommy.”

Mom came up behind me. She had been listening the whole time. “She is right, Tommy. If you didn’t respect Samantha, you wouldn’t have trusted her. That is something money can’t buy. Thank you for putting your faith in her.”

Mrs. Hinks chimed in with pride, “That’s my son! He’s a good soldier.”

Mom diplomatically said, “Yes, he is!” And then she patted Mrs. Hinks on the shoulder giving her a smile.

Tommy looked at me. He was embarrassed by his mother’s affirmation of his character. I could tell he felt disturbed because in his heart he knew he would have blown it.

We continued our work at the pool. The kid had been sent in for processing. That way we could finish our job and by the time the parents got him out of juvenile detention, we would be done.

In between marks, Tommy looked down and said, “Samantha. Last year, you taught me the value of friendship by staying with a friend to the very end. Then you teach me how to cook and improve the relationship between me and my mother. Now you are teaching me the value of partnership. Thank you.”

I hugged him. “You’re welcome.”

That weekend yielded even more successful arrests than the previous sting. They got a new crop that wanted boys too. We captured nearly forty men. All of whom were engaged in exchanging files of child pornography.

As a reward, Debbie took us to the Daniel Boone Home which was run by a local college. Agent Debbie had arranged a special docent to take us on quick tour. Her Dad.

“Hello Samantha! I am so glad finally to meet you. You are all Debbie talks about these days.”

I went up and hugged him. “Hi Mr. Moore. It is so nice to meet you at last too. Debbie thinks you are the best Dad in the whole world. Personally, I think it is mine.” I enjoyed teasing him.

“Well, Debbie insisted that I get out and exercise to avoid another heart attack. And, she found me this docent job. I retired a while back, so this is great. I get outdoors and teach high school students during the year.”

We walked the grounds. They were gorgeous. I found out that Boone retired out here. He hated being indoors and this gave him a chance to be outside as much as possible.

One of the things Mr. Moore showed us was a two person saw. Tommy and I tried it out. Our moms laughed as we tried to saw a log. Then he arranged a little sawing competition. Tommy and I beat our moms. We high fived each other.

I watched Debbie and her Dad. At her age, she still held his hand when she walked with him. She clearly loved the man. And I could see how proud he was of his daughter. The way he looked at her with love was incredible. I realized my Dad looked at me and Jane the same way. Dads are really so special.

Debbie took us to the airport. I hugged her and told her that I really appreciated meeting her Dad. And, yes, I told her, he is awesome.

After school on Thursday, I had homework to do for most of my classes. I sat in my room listening to Chopin finishing up my homework. Mom knocked at the door. “Honey, there is someone downstairs to give you something special.” I looked up from my homework. She had this big grin on her face. I wondered what it could be. I quickly followed her downstairs. There was Cat with a painting wrapped in brown paper.

“Hi Cat! Is it done?”

Cat looked pleased with himself. “Well, you will have to get it framed. But, yes, it is done.” He set up an easel in our living room and put the painting on it and removed the brown paper. Mom gasped. “It is gorgeous! She looks so beautiful. Thank you, Cat!”

“The copy for your grandmother is still drying. I used a hardener with this one since I was being a true impressionist. It got me an A, by the way. My teacher wanted me to show it, but, I told her that I would have others soon and that I had to pay back my model with this one first.”

I gave Cat a big hug and a ‘bise.’ “Of course you will. I would love to pose for more.”

“We will have to get it framed now. Ready for a trip to the mall, Samantha?” Mom said.

We headed off to the mall where we got the painting framed and the sketch framed too. I picked up a few Monet paintings. Mostly of water lilies. More paintings for my little art gallery.

A few days later, on a visit by Miranda and her Dad, I walked inside to find Bill and Grandpa laughing. To my delight, Miranda came up to me and asked if we could have a tea party. Before I let her take me away, I asked Bill why they were laughing. It turns out that Debbie and Carlson were dating that night. Bill had arranged for someone to look after Mrs. Murphy and he was watching out for Miranda and her Dad.

I grinned at them understanding what had happened. “So, they are an item?”

Miranda sang, “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby carriage.” She began to giggle. “Mommy taught me that one!”

We had a tea party. We talked about all sorts of stuff. Then, I took her to Jane’s room and pulled out her trundle. I read another chapter from Pippi Longstockings. She was still awake when I finished the chapter. She looked up at me. “Samantha, I think you will make a wonderful mommy. I wish we could go back home where I could see more of my mommy. She is always working since we came here and has to travel too far to work.”

I reached over and held her hand. “I think once this case is over, you will see much more of your mommy. But, how about we do something for her now? Because, I bet she misses spending time with you.”

Mr. Murphy was listening, “What are you thinking, Samantha?”

“Let’s do a photo album. We can make one with all the things that Miranda does here. So, that when you return to Denver, you can share with her all the times you all missed because of the change in venue.”

“Daddy, I like that idea!” Miranda was getting too excited by the idea.

“Calm down Miranda. We will work on it. You get a good night’s sleep and we will work on it tomorrow.

The next day, Miranda, her Dad, and I visited the store and got a photo album. At the same time, I picked up the painting and the sketch we had framed. We took them home. Mom and Dad put the painting of me in the living room. They spent a great deal of time figuring out where they wanted it to be put. In the end, it went into a place where anyone on the couch could see it.

Cat had titled it “Fisherman’s Catch.” Miranda thought I looked beautiful and loved the picture. Mr. Murphy thought it was sweet. I watched my parents as they gazed on the painting. It was clear that they were becoming accustomed to seeing me in a dress and as a girl.

Mrs. Smith came over with the triplets. She loved the painting too. She said that I was a good catch. I blushed. Miranda and I watched the triplets for a couple of hours while she took a nap. Mr. Murphy purchased a point and shoot camera and took photos of us all playing. I noticed he also took a photo of the painting Cat did.

I wrapped up the sketch into a box and brought it to school the next day. After school, Mom drove Dean and I to our ice dancing class. Before we laced up our skates, I handed the box to Dean.

“Here. I thought you might like something to remember me by when you move to Atlanta.”

Dean looked at the box for a moment. He was almost afraid to open it. But, after a moment he carefully opened the box. He carefully took the sketch out and looked at it, then at me. “I-It’s y-you. I-It is a-a v-very p-pretty s-sketch.”

After we had done our warm ups, we spent the next hour being drilled in the moves for our routine that we were working on. We would do a final routine for our instructor at the end of the semester and that would be our grade. We almost had it all done by the end of the class.

When Mrs. Pilsner came to pick us up, Dean showed her the sketch. She thought it was lovely and really appreciated having it. I realized that it was classical enough for them to have it in the their home without a girl figuring out it was prior girlfriend. But, at the same time it would remind him of good times in 7th grade.

Dean grew more somber and detached over the next few weeks. I wondered how he felt about having to move and us. I just knew that Doug and Mom were right. Enjoy the now and make some good memories. I kept trying harder and harder to enjoy the time we spent together. Nothing worked.

A week later, Dean came to pick me up for the school dance. He showed up looking very nice. He gave me a rose and I left it with my Daddy again. Something seemed out of sync that evening. He was pulling away from me the more we danced. I could tell. Our dances lacked the energy they had in the fall dance.

And then came our final ice dance class which was the final for our school credit too. It was technically fine. But, it lacked the energy of being our best performance.

Afterwards, we skated around the rink. “Dean, what is the matter?”

“I-I h-hate g-goodbyes. I-It’s n-not f-fair.” He couldn’t look me in the eyes.

“I know it is not fair. I don’t like saying goodbye either.” I tried to comfort him.

Dean started to cry. We stopped. He leaned on me and sobbed for a moment. He couldn’t speak. I looked up into his tear filled eyes and thought I spoke for him. “Dean. I love you and always will. Our time together has been awesome. But, not by our choice, it is time for you to move on. I think by now you know that your stutter is no longer an obstacle to having a good relationship. You are worth knowing and being with.” I was reaching for straws. Anything I could to reach him.

Dean tried to speak and say something. I could see he was frustrated with his inability to tell me how he felt. He was frustrated with his stutter. I found myself tearing up and crying. Yet, somehow, I knew I wasn’t crying with him. I wasn’t just saying goodbye to my partner. I knew that. He was my friend and he couldn’t tell me how he really felt. He was also my first love. His eyes were the only window into his pain that let me communicate with him. Finally, he reached into the costume that I had made for him and pulled out a note and handed it to me. He stopped and looked at me after he handed it to me. He bit his lip and skated off in a hurry leaving me alone on the ice to read his note.

Dear Samantha,

I cannot find the words to say how much I love you.

Thank you for making 7th grade the best year of my life. But, these last few weeks have been the hardest on me. Everyday I see you, I am reminded of what I am leaving and it hurts. I cannot bear the sight of you leaving me at the end everyday knowing that it really is going to happen soon. I need to end this pain. I can’t see you again. It is costing me too much. I love you, but I have to say goodbye once and for all. And I don’t know how.

Please forgive me, I love you,

Dean

I stood there on the ice and began to weep. My friend and my love was in pain and I was the source of that pain. I stood there for what felt like an eternity when I heard skates come up to me and I thought he had returned. I turned to talk to him. There, standing in front of me was Tommy. He was in his hockey shirt and jeans. He looked worried and concerned. He could see me crying. He looked down and saw the note clutched in my hand. He reached over and took it. He read it. I saw his eyes close and he silently nodded. He opened his eyes and then looked at my tears. He brushed one away and tried to smile, but couldn’t. I couldn’t say anything. My heart was breaking.

He quietly folded up the note and put it in his pocket. His expression was kind. He then motioned to me to follow him and skate with him without saying a word. I began skating with Tommy. I was still crying. It was awkward at first navigating the ice with tears that were getting cold, but little by little we began skating in unison around the rink. Soon, he gently took my hand and guided me on the ice. We casually skated together a bit longer around the rink as I grew accustomed to his lead. My tears subsided as he guided me around the rink. Then his left hand took my right hand and I went into a backward skate with my arm extended out from his. He spun around into a backward skate taking my waist with his right hand and we spun once again with his throwing me into a double axel which I landed with ease. I gently stopped on a backward t-stop and looked into his kind eyes.

My tears were abating quickly. I smiled at him while sniffling. I realized how well we worked together without words. Tommy was teaching me that he could speak to me through skating. He slowly skated towards me, stopped, and embraced me. I responded with a gentle embrace around his waist and buried my head in his shoulder enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around me. I lifted my right leg and put my toe pick on the ice leaning more of my weight into him. I am certain we looked a pretty odd pair with his baggy hockey shirt and his hockey skates contrasted by my ice dancing costume with its red top and wistful white skirt showing off my legs.

He leaned his head into mine and brought his mouth close to my ear and whispered. “It’s okay, I’m your partner now.”

And I was.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[Author’s note: I have gotten a few positive comments on what Samantha is doing with law enforcement. I really appreciate them!!!

Like many writers, I use things that happen around me to create a story. Something bad in the news. Perhaps something that happened to a friend or a colleague. I am a fairly good observer and listener. Rarely in this story is it something that really happened to me.

However, such a rarity is the case with Bill’s Country Club story. It is my own story with a few minor changes. This is the first time I ever told this story and it happened to me over forty years ago. I faced a demon by putting it in this story.

I watched this video the other day and cried. Please watch it. She says what needs saying far better than I ever can with this story …

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMVHz-1I1zY

AuP ]

Chapter 21 – A Winter’s Tail

“Please stand straight, Dad!” He was making it hard to take his measurements. I couldn’t tell whether he was uncomfortable having his daughter take his measurements or finding out what they were. I had the men in the family gathered in the living room. They were each going to get a make over in the clothes department.

Robert was back for a brief break between the end of the spring term and the start of summer school. He was going back because he had a new love in his life. He was up next and closely watching what I was doing with an amused expression on his face.

“Sorry, Honey, it is just that I am not used to being measured by you. It tickles.” Dad quipped.

“I can’t make clothes for you if I don’t have the foundation of accurate measurements.”

“Why are you doing this, again? You know I can just go down to the Wal-Mart and grab them off the rack.”

I pulled the tape around his belly. I rolled my eyes and said to my Dad, “I know you can buy it off the rack. It shows.” I wrote down his measurements. “But, to answer your question, if I only get to explore my style as a girl, I will be incomplete. I need to explore a man’s style too. So, you, Doug, Grandpa, and Robert just became my play things.”

Doug laughed at my comment because of our secret. I handed my Dad an issue of Gentleman’s Quarterly with some pages ear marked. I had carefully gone through looking for clothes that would complement my Dad’s sturdy frame, middle aged pooch, and greying hair. He looked at Doug for a moment as if he was wondering why he laughed.

Doug, realizing that he may have let on more than he should have, ribbed Dad back to cover himself. “She’s your daughter. You started all of this.”

“Well, Doug, you don’t have to egg her on by getting us all to join this exercise in ‘male fashion’.” Robert folded his arms and stared at Doug with a smirk on his face.

“I didn’t see you saying no either. That new French girlfriend has you dressing better I see.” Grandpa poked Robert in the ribs with his elbow.

Robert beamed with pride. “Well, my belle femme is worth it. And I can use Samantha’s help if I am going to keep this cutie. So, I, for one, don’t intend to stop this exercise.”

“Just choose a look you like Dad. How am I ever going to get back in the swing of things if you all abandon me.” Dad looked at the magazine with disdain. “That means opening it and looking, please,” I pleaded. I then handed each of them a GQ magazine with earmarks for them.

Grandpa finally gave in and opened his. He said, “I think we had better choose or else she will have us wearing dresses before the week is out.”

Mom shouted from the kitchen. “Hey, I like that idea!” I could hear Grandma laughing.

I stood like a statue with my figure pointed up in the air with a facial expression that looked a cat that just swallowed the canary. “Now there is an idea!” They all started looking through their magazines rather hurriedly and laughing too.

Doug’s plan was working perfectly. A couple of weeks ago, in a moment of reflection, he turned to me and said, “If you explore your style as Mom wants, it could backfire. I think you need to show you are preparing for the end so they keep this going as long as possible.” After a brainstorming session, Doug and I hatched the idea that I would make an outfit for each of the men in my life. That way, it would appear that I was keenly looking to the future while enjoying the present.

Robert rubbed my head and asked, “How tall are you now, Pipsqueak? You look like you have grown a bit since I last saw you.” I took note that he used the same affectionate name and tone as Jane. I think the two of them had been talking.

As far as my growth was concerned, I was beginning to follow the path of my mother and sister. They were beanpoles in the beginning. I had been growing. I was nearing five foot two now and still well under one hundred pounds. Doug had informed me a few weeks ago that my probable height would be about five foot five, or my mother’s height and an inch below Jane.

“Yes, I can tell I have been growing. We have had to change some of my special stuff lately too. The doctor feels that it will be another year before I start having real changes and things catch up with me in other areas of my body. Apparently, Mom’s genetics dominate my growth pattern.”

Robert looked me over and commented, “Well, those funny things you are wearing really do make you look like a girl. Especially the ones for your behind. Plus, I don’t see any peach fuzz on you yet, so that is good for you at the moment.”

I deflected. “I shouldn’t start having peach fuzz until I am fifteen at the rate I am growing the doctor says.” I didn’t let on that I only wore a gaff and breast forms. My behind was changing all on its own. And I liked it.

Doug spoke up before things got out of control. “Her growth pattern is mostly Zimmer right now, as she says. That will result in a late puberty. She will be still on the small side in High School. Figure that she won’t hit her next growth spurt until her junior year. She has briefly caught up to the boys in her school, but come next year, they will start to outpace her again. I can see it with Tommy. He is five-foot-six or seven already. He is going to be six foot two when he hits his full height. I think Samantha will hit five-foot-nine when she is done growing. Or, average height for a man in the United States.”

Dad added, “Dr. Cramer has indicated that by the end of the year or into the next year, we are going to have to send her away for a period of time to an exchange program in Canada so she can slowly transition back to Samuel. So, by the ninth grade, we ought to have Samuel back in High School.”

Grandpa looked at me. “Is that okay with you, Samantha? I mean, you will be away from family.”

“Yes. It should be no problem. I am looking forward to it. I will be learning more French and be close to family in Massachusetts with it being in Quebec. I can learn to ski, which I have always wanted to do. I thought about just moving in with my uncle, but I think it will be too confusing for Evelyn. It will be much better to be close to them in Canada. Plus, I can take it at my own pace that way.”

Doug and I walked back to his place after we were done leaving the guys talking about fishing and hunting. I brushed my forehead as if I was wiping away sweat. “Whew, that was close.”

“I know. I knew the men in the house would eventually start to plan on retrieving Samuel. And the women would follow suit. Giving them a concrete time line allows them to think what is going to happen is normal. So, you have decided you want the change early, not later?”

“Yes. Jane is banking her eggs. Your spies confirmed that as well as Dr. Cramer. Although, I don’t know how she is paying for it. So, I will be a mother. And, frankly, I don’t remember being a boy anymore. And I want to act on the feelings of attraction I feel for boys like Dean and even Tommy. I am still confused as to how you are going to get me the surgery, though. But, I promise not to ask questions.”

“Good. Because it is going to be a narrow window in which I can pull it off for you. You will have to trust me.” Doug began snickering. I knew enough not to ask anymore.

“What do you need me to do?” I felt guilty. I just asked a question.

“You are going skiing in Vermont. I will send you the lift tickets with the dates. You will meet me there. But I will be in disguise when I take you to the hospital. You will bring a suitcase filled with one pair of boy’s clothes and the rest needs to be girls. Expect your hospital stay to take about one to two weeks. Anyway, we need to go over something else right now since you have made your decision.”

Doug took me into his place and showed me photos of the procedure that would be performed on me. It was graphic. From the removal of the testes, to the creation of a vagina from my old parts and some skin graphs, it looked painful. But, the result would be life changing and worth it.”

“You are sure now? This is what you want? You can wait until you are eighteen and you can come out now.”

“Yes, I am. True, I want to stop lying about who I really am. But, the option to become the real me is irresistible.” I hugged Doug. “Thank you. Without you, I would be so miserable right now. Instead, I have a life and choices.”

Doug went on the say, “Two last things. At the end of August, you will be put on shots instead. You can’t be on hormones around the time of the surgery. But, don’t worry about that. Your last month, go back on the pills. Lastly, do you want to spend almost all of eighth grade at Danvers missing just a few weeks or do you want to go at the first of the year and come back to Danvers mid-year?”

“You mean you can make Canada a short trip?”

“Yes. Relatively speaking. Let’s just say that I have the algorithm for solving your problems well in hand.” I was tempted to groan because I knew he made a bad joke. But, I wanted to remain serious.

I refrained from asking him more as I had a bunch of questions float through my head, but I knew he was proud of his solution and he would tell me when it was time.

“I love you, Bro.”

“I love you too, Sis.”

The next day, me, my dad, and my Grandpa flew to St. Louis for David St. Jean’s trial on human trafficking. I was going to have to testify in a preliminary hearing, but when the prosecution didn’t use me, the defense felt emboldened to use me in the regular trial believing they could use me to make the prosecution look bad. Later, this week, is when Yvonne would be called to testify. I am sorry I will miss her.

The bailiff pushed the video tape in as instructed and pressed play. The jury heard a dubbed version. The voice came out in the court room, “I am not from here. I go to school in Tennessee. It is called the volunteer state. I volunteer to help girls in trouble get away from bad men. That is why I am here.” In the video, my face is also blurred. Then the bailiff pressed stop.

The defense counsel came up and asked me, “Ms. Samantha, you said in this tape that you help girls in trouble get away from bad men, right?”

“Yes, Sir.” I looked at the lawyer directly in the eyes. He looked like a cobra waiting to strike. Too bad for him that I was mongoose. I kept my distance from him.

“You used the words ‘bad men’ in addition to ‘girls in trouble?’” He thought he had me.

“Yes, Sir.” He didn’t expect my frank reply.

“Why?” Caught off guard by my honesty, he pressed his attack.

“Because earlier she said she shot a man who was beating her mother.” I simply stated the truth and shrugged my shoulders.

“How do you know the man was bad?” I was amazed at how he was trying to parse my language into something sinister.

“Because of what she said. He was beating her mother.” Stating the obvious seemed to rile him.

“She could have been wrong?” His response showed his irritation with me.

“Objection”

“Sustained” I felt the judge was on my side the way he said it.

“Did you think she was truthful?” The fishing expedition continued.

“Objection. Calls for a conclusion.”

“Did you tell her about who you really were?” He seemed really frustrated.

The judge reacted quickly even before the prosecution could object. “Counsel, you have been warned. Unless you want a contempt charge, I suggest you drop that line immediately! Members of the jury, the court has allowed this child, who is a minor, to have her identity kept secret. Disclosure of her true identity could be injurious to a minor who is incapable of defending herself. As such, she is wearing a wig and dark glasses to keep her identity a secret. The last question is stricken from the record.”

My testimony went on for about an hour more with the defense council getting no where. I just kept answering honestly. David St. Jean sat there perplexed by the whole thing. He thought for sure his attorney would blow the lid off of my cover. But, more than that, I could tell he was trying to figure out who I was.

On cross examination, the prosecutor didn’t feel it was necessary. “No questions, your honor.” The defense’s direct examination of me had yielded nothing.

I left the courtroom and met Debbie in the hallway. She had already testified. I went into a room with her and sat with her Dad. Grandpa held my hand. To my surprise, Mrs. Murphy came in with Agent Carlson. I thought I had seen her in the courtroom, but the glasses they made me wear made it difficult to see the gallery.

“Good job! Samantha, you are a cool cucumber. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. Tell the truth and not let them rattle you. Just to let you know, by procedure, your testimony is over. They can’t recall you. This is the defense’s last hurrah. They were trying to show a rush to judgment and have all the evidence impeached and quashed. But, it didn’t work.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” I felt rather proud.

“Too bad she couldn’t have testified as Samuel.” Grandpa said.

Mrs. Murphy responded kindly, but firmly. “That would have been awkward. The video tape showed a young woman and a young woman needed to be on the witness stand. Supplying the defense with her presence fulfilled the defense’s constitutional right to exam the witness against them. The court’s rules protecting undercover individuals meant they couldn’t find out who she really was because, while she wasn’t acting as a law enforcement officer, she was acting as an undercover informant with special skills. Her being a minor helped us to seal her real identity for good.”

Agent Carlson piped up. “What is really funny is that I found out that the defense requested information on flights to Tennessee during that time period to see what names were on commercial flights during that time period. That won’t help them because the flight to Arizona used a military call sign. Her name will never show up under any discovery. The defense is going to lose while scratching their heads as to who she really is. I love it.”

Mrs. Murphy sat down next to me and began to talk with me and Grandpa in French. “Salut, Samantha! Why do you think I came here?” She winked at me. “Look at my bodyguard talking with the father of the bride.”

I giggled and replied in French, “Has he asked her the question yet?”

“Not yet. But, the two men went for a walk this morning before the trial. I think someone asked the father for permission.”

“When will he ask her, do you think?”

“Well, your Grandpa is my security detail back to Nashville and for the next couple of days. Does that answer your question?” Grandpa smiled at the news and winked at me because he clearly put two and two together earlier.

I grinned. But she didn’t stop there. “And, I have asked Debbie to becoming my assistant in Denver. She is a sharp attorney. Her talents are wasted in the FBI if you ask me.”

“Has she said yes?” I was almost giddy, but hid it as best I could.

“Not yet. She is thinking about it. I could tell she wanted to say yes.”

Debbie’s Dad, Mr. Moore, wandered over to shake my hand. “Young lady, you are very talented. Is there nothing you can’t do?” I blushed.

“Thank you, Sir. I get it from my Mom and Dad. Oh, this is my father, Sir, Paul Miller.” The two shook hands.

“Please call me Duane. You do have a remarkable daughter. My daughter brags about her great cooking, great acting, great team playing, and her French, which I just heard a moment ago.” He looked at me as if he knew what we were talking about in secret.

“Thank you, she is amazing. She also can make her own clothes, does well in school, plays the piano and guitar, sings, and dances both on and off the ice too.” Dad was clearly proud of me.

“Oh my!” He looked at me and said in a low voice. “You dance? Can you teach me? I may need to do it soon with someone special.”

I stammered. “I-I wish I could.”

Dad interjected, “You and your wife must be real proud of Debbie. She is a fine person and we really have enjoyed knowing her.”

“Sadly, her mom died when she was a freshman in college. She was hit by a drunk driver on the way to work on a Monday morning.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” I said. “I suppose that is why she went into law enforcement.”

“Maybe. I knew she wanted to go into law. She has a fine legal mind.”

Both of them turned to find me crying. “Oh, I am sorry Samantha, did I say something wrong?” asked Mr. Moore.

Dan hugged me and looked back to Mr. Moore. “It’s okay, she lost her grandfather to a drunk driver hitting him in a crosswalk.”

Debbie heard this and put her hands on my shoulders. I turned to look at her and I could see a tear too. “I didn’t know how much we had in so much in common. I am sorry to hear of your losing your grandfather.” We hugged. “I am sorry to hear that you lost your Mom too.”

Debbie drove Mrs. Murphy, Grandpa, and me to Scotts AFB where a government plane was waiting for us on the tarmac. We got out with our luggage and some airmen helped us load it on the plane. We said our goodbyes.

As I hugged her goodbye, I said. “Have I told you I am able to make a wedding dress?”

She laughed. “Shut-up.”

“Yes Ma’am!” I saluted her.

“Enough now.” She really giggled at the salute. She was about to walk away when she turned and whispered in my ear, “Do you do alterations?”

I whispered back in hers, “Yes, any time, any where, for the bride, bridesmaids, groom, and groomsmen. Whatever you need. I am here for you. But, within the limits of what I can do.” The last part I added because of my working with Erin and Doug on boundaries. The truth was that I would do anything to help her out.

She whispered back into mine and winked. “One word to anyone and you aren’t invited.”

“Yes Ma’am.” I gave her an extra long hug. “See you next week.”

As I left, she quickly handed me a manila envelope. “Look it over on the flight back with no one looking.” She smirked at me.

Getting on the plane, I realized I wasn’t going to be a bridesmaid. But, I knew I would be part of the wedding and its planning. That is more than I hoped for in the beginning. After take off, I opened the envelope and looked inside. It was a list of musical selections for a wedding with sheet music for piano and some for guitar. I slide them back into the envelope. I liked how her mind worked.

After returning, our attention was on end of the school year stuff. Lafayette High School is a beautiful campus. Originally a small college campus, the building were old and stately. Newer buildings were interspersed between the more stately ones. The gym was designed to be able to hold two basketball games at once making it an ideal venue for the graduation ceremony. Like many schools in the area, graduation ceremonies were performed well before the actual last day of school. The only difference was that on the last day of school, the seniors were clapped out by the sophomores and juniors.

Not surprisingly, Doug could qualify as the class valedictorian. How could he not be? He often taught the calculus students and the teacher. But, in an unusual turn, Doug asked that he be allowed to be excluded from the process. The speech, he felt, ought to go to someone who worked for it all along. He could have easily graduated mid-semester, but held off because of me. And, lately, he held back because of Mary too.

The graduation robes were simple, as most are. But, underneath, Doug wore the tux I made for his prom date with Mary. Mary was dressed in the cocktail dress I helped alter for her prom date with Doug. It hugged her figure nicely, but gave up nothing too much because of its modest look. It had a high scoop neck made of lace with a sleeveless bodice underneath. It was royal blue. The belt was a ribbon with a bow off to the side. The dress came almost to her knees and was simply beautiful on her. It was classy and elegant. Drs Ryland attended and we joined them in applauding as he crossed the stage when his name was called.

I could see why Doug waited too. While not as tall as the other boys, Doug was not a midget at five-foot-nine. His features were handsome. In fact, he was more like Pierce Brosnan than ever. I could see why Mary was head over heals in love with him. I think even the Rylands noticed it too.

Afterwards, we all went to a fancy French restaurant nearby. Everything went well, but I could tell Doug’s mom was looking at me. She knew about the job I was doing, so it wasn’t the fact that I was dressed to the nines and looking very girly. No, it was the stare of a doctor sizing up their patient. I think she suspected that I was on hormones and figured out what was happening. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything.

To tell the truth, I had noticed that my skin was softer of late and that my body’s subtle changes were making me look more feminine. I even experienced my first self induced orgasm which I know will become a topic of discussion with Dr. Cramer. I knew that in the next six months, the changes in my body might become too hard to hide. I needed to sit down with Doug and discuss how much longer we could hide it before the surgery. It was going to be a race to see which came first.

But, this night was Doug’s. I went to the lady’s room and when I came out of the stall, Mary was coming in. I made sure that we were the only ones there.

“So, how are you going to handle Doug being away for the next school year?” I came straight out with the question that I knew was the hardest.

“I don’t know. It is going to be rough, but I know it has something to do with you. He just won’t tell me what.”

“Don’t hate me. Doug is going to help me come out to my parents after the first of the year. That is all I can tell you now. I know he will be back by the time we finish eighth grade. I know it is asking a lot of you, but stick with him. He loves you. But, please, can you do this for me?”

She hesitated for a moment and then saw the panic in my eyes. “Sure.” She smiled and put her hands on my shoulders. “You have been a very good friend, Samantha. The best I have ever had. I understand that you need the help and why. I can do it! I promise.” We hugged.

“Thank you. It means so much to me to have your support too.”

“How is it going with Tommy?” She gave me a concerned look.

“We are going to do pair skating with me to give me cover. He thinks that Dean was just a cover. But, I wish I could tell him that Dean could have been much more. But, that is not the problem.”

“What is the problem?”

“Tommy is cute and I like him too. When we are on the stings, we fight like boyfriend and girlfriend. I tease him. No, I taunt him and then I feel all different inside. There is a part of me that wants it to be real. And it is growing stronger. But, I know it can never be.”

“Too bad Dean packed up and left early. At least with him, you didn’t have to pretend about those feelings.”

“Yeah. Not having him in class these last few weeks has been rough. But, he worked it out with the teachers before our last ice dancing class. I didn’t know. He and his Mom left without saying a word to us. And then to leave by handing me a note. Ugh!”

The next weekend, Grandma flew with me into Dayton, Ohio, and we proceeded to drive to a home just west of Springfield. However, we stopped off at an old cemetery. The headstones were new and old. Burials as recent as last year were near ones where the person died in 1830. We made our way through a lot of headstones until she came up a row of stones with a huge marker behind them with the name Lawson. Grandma stopped in front of a grave of a little boy. His name was Benton J. Lawson. Judging from the dates, he died when he was four. Next to him was another grave. It was for a little girl. Her name was Grace L. Lawson. She died days shy of her eleventh birthday.

“Who are they Grandma?”

“The Lawson clan came to Ohio in the early 1800s along with other families. The Treaty of Greenville, 1789, opened up Ohio for settlement. There was a flood of migration from New Jersey, New York, and Vermont. Ezra Lawson moved his family here from Rutland, VT, and settled here to farm the land. You can see Ezra buried there next to his wife, Elizabeth. They were the parents of Benton and Grace here. The Lawsons are your great great great great grandparents.”

From a quick stop we had made earlier at a small store, Grandma pulled out a bucket, two foam sponges, two pairs of latex gloves, a gallon of water, and small jar of white vinegar and we began cleaning the lichen off of the headstones.

“You won’t know the reason the two children died from the headstones, but, Benton died of cholera and Grace died of dysentery. Both these diseases are spread through human feces. To put it bluntly, our poo. This was prior to the knowledge that germs were the cause of disease. In both cases, the mother, Elizabeth, had to watch two of her children die a horrible death. With cholera, the victim looks normal and then suddenly gets ill. They can’t keep it down or in. To put it bluntly, they vomit and poo to death in a matter of hours. Can you imagine what that was like to lose your babies like that? That must have left deep emotional scars. No parent wants to lose a child.”

“Is that why families were so big back then?”

“In part. It was normal even to have ten to twelve children. But, it was also normal to have only a few survive to adulthood. Some died in childbirth. Some from epidemics like cholera. Some through war and famine.”

I held onto Grandma and asked, “Tell me more about Elizabeth.”

“She was remarkable for that age. According to the family history, she was educated. Part of that was because of being Quaker. The Quakers believed in equality between the sexes. That was rare for a woman back then. Then again, being educated wasn’t normal for a man either. She knew how to read and write. She could play music. Although, the family history doesn’t mention the instrument she played. More than likely, she helped her husband, Ezra, with his business. They farmed and ran a mercantile store. So, her skill set would have included accounting and math. The Lawson women were smart and strong. They worked hard and put up with hardships we can’t even imagine.”

I started to clean Grace’s headstone. I couldn’t read the writing on it. But, some sort of inscription was there wanting to be read. After we cleaned the headstone and let it dry, Grandma gave me rice paper and we did a rubbing which revealed the words on the tombstone for Grace.

That merry shout no more I hear,
No laughing child I see,
No little arms are round my neck,
No feet upon my knee;

No kisses drop upon my cheek;
These lips are sealed to me.
Dear Lord, how could I give Grace up
To any but to Thee?

Grandma and I surveyed our work. The headstones were refreshed. She put her arm around me and said, “We shouldn’t forget what they forged here. They loved their children. We think as modern women that they were oppressed and stepped on. That is a wrong way to look at it. Frankly, in those days, disease added to the harsh and unyielding work that needed to be done in order to live was the real oppressor. It wasn’t until modern conveniences like the sewing machine or the washing machine came along that women finally found time to be free and demand their rights. And lest we think the men had it any easier, remember, they had to work the farm and that wasn’t any easier for them either. Even so, the temperance movement and the suffragette movements that would start in the late 1800s and early 1900s grew out of the woman here who learned to overcome adversity and passed that on to their daughters.”

On the way into Springfield, we stopped at a cemetery that was spectacular. It was designed like a park because, well, it was meant to be a park after a fashion. We drove to the center of Ferncliff cemetery and Arboretum.

“Do we have family buried here?” I asked.

“No. But, there is something here I want you to see.”

Grandma took me to the middle of the cemetery to a mound. She pointed out the graves. “These were men that served in the Civil War. It is called the GAR mound. Grand Army of the Republic. Men were allowed to be buried here because of an organization called GAR who fought for the rights of men who were in the Civil War. Because of them, a soldier could get help getting a pension from the government for wounds they had received. Because of them, a soldier could get a decent place for burial. In this section, there are over seventy graves of African-American soldiers. Your ancestor, Rachel Lawson Miller, whose husband Ezra served in the war, helped them get pensions and a decent place for burial. She was a member of The Woman's Relief Corps, an auxiliary to the Grand Army of the Republic. Many of the blacks were escaped slaves before they joined the colored regiment. Because of that unfortunate condition, they were illiterate and uneducated. She would help them file for a pension and get a pension. One other thing. GAR was integrated. Unlike other fraternal organizations at the time, like the Masons or the Odd-Fellows, the only requirement to be in GAR was to have served in the war or be a son or the offspring of someone who served in the war.”

Soon, we were in another two story house with a pool. Tommy came out to greet me and my grandmother. I thought about what I talked to Mary about that weekend. I had to be the best at teasing him and being there for him in his role. In a strange sort of way, I had come to enjoy Dean’s sacrificing his needs for mine. But, with Tommy, I was learning to sacrifice for Tommy’s needs.

We had caught more than forty men that weekend. Sunday, on the flight home, Tommy and I talked about the weekend. Grandma and Tommy’s mom were in several seats in front of us. We were alone in a row with two seats. Tommy let me have the window seat. I sat down and pulled my skirt underneath me and buckled up. Tommy raised the arms of the seats so that there was nothing between us. I looked out at the airport waiting for take off and crossed my legs. My hand fell between us and soon, we were holding hands. I looked over at him and he was reading a book and amazed me with his ability to still be turning the pages with his free right hand and holding the book at the same time.

I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the future holding my husband’s hand as we went off on our honeymoon. I thought about what he would smell like. I figured it would be some nice masculine smell all musky and strong. I considered what he would look like too. I liked the cleft chin of Tommy’s Dad. I began to think of what he would look like at a younger age. His chin gave him a chiseled jaw and the look of a man who had just come off a safari in Africa having made the discovery of a lifetime. Then I painted in my mind a picture of his Dad with a scruffy beard and sweaty face declaring that he had found the real source of the Nile to an anxious press corps. Filling in the picture, I realized that his magnificent head must be on a muscular, toned, and tanned body. Well fit! I could see his expedition clothes. His tan shirt unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest. His chest hairs could be seen and around his neck where a checkered scarf was tied. He was grungy and sexy. He was powerful and confident. He was noble and humble.

The start up of the engines shook me back to reality. The plane was being pushed back out for take off. They released the plane and it taxied into position to began its roll out on the runway. I felt the plane shimmy and shake as it rumbled down the runway picking up speed. Then, the moment of flotation when the nose picked up and a second later, the sharp ascent into the sky. Involuntarily, I squeezed Tommy’s hand as the wheels were pulled into the plane.

I turned to look at him reading one handed and amazed at how he could do that. He was so handsome. “What are you reading?” I casually asked.

“Lord of the Flies. It is on the reading list for next year. I want to read everything this summer so I have more time for sports in the fall.”

Somehow, I knew I was going to need to be his support for sports. The good news was that eight grade football was played on Thursday afternoons. So, we could continue with the stings. I wondered if I would have to show up to his games. And on what basis? He seemed to know what I was thinking.

“Are you going out for football?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What position are you going to play? I honestly don’t know anything about football except for the scoring method.”

“I am a running back.”

“My Dad played halfback in high school.”

Tommy smiled and chuckled. “Today, halfbacks are called running backs. I am fast. I can run the 100 meter dash in under twelve seconds. I am a strong sprinter. And I can catch garbage thrown at me.”

I teased him and enjoyed it. I softly cooed, “How about quarterback? You did a great job throwing me at the rink!”

Tommy blushed. “Well, everyone wants to be the quarterback and make the calls. But they don’t get to dance in the end zone as much.”

I looked at the receding ground as we became part of the clouds and then back to Tommy with my head slight tilted down and looking back up at him. Tommy squeezed my hand, turned, looked down into my eyes, and said firmly, “We need to start dating.”

I was startled by his directness and tilted my head to the side as if to say I couldn’t believe what I had heard. “Your previous partner, Dean, didn’t know who you really were. I do. I need to develop a reputation of being your protector so I can do a better job. You need proper cover. We need to start dating.”

My eyes followed every word he said out of his mouth to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I looked back up the cabin towards my grandmother and then back at him. I pursed my lips and sucked on my lower one to bite it. I silently nodded. “You can’t be afraid to be clingy or affectionate with me. And you can’t be controlling your boyfriend’s ability to protect you either like you did with Dean. I want you to hold on to me and be my girl so I can’t watch who is watching us. I should have caught the boy on the hill. That was my job. I am sorry I let you down. I hope you forgive me. I don’t intend to do it again.”

Tommy was taking command. And I wasn’t fighting him. He leaned into me and whispered into my ear. “Until this is over, you need to be all girl all the time and not feel you don’t have a team member in me. And, if you are wondering what is in it for me, then it is simple. The girls at school and around me get to see me as a good catch if I treat you right. Just like they did with Dean. But, he was too stupid to know what a break he had been given.”

I looked back into his eyes. He smiled and I just nodded. He went back to reading his book. I though about what he said. He wasn’t saying that he owned me. He was saying that I could relax and be a total girl around him and rely on him. He was confirming that he knew what his role was in protecting me and he would be my partner. I leaned my head on his shoulder, tilted my legs to be close to him, adjusted my skirt over my now parallel knees, curled my right arm around so as to put my hands on my lap so he could hold his book in his hands properly, and became his girl. I wasn’t as tentative as I was at the rink. I could feel him relax and breath a sigh of relief as he felt my accepting him. He turned and kissed my head. “There’s my sweet girl. I promise not to let you down and do a proper job of being your boyfriend.”

“I know you will. I really do.” I closed my eyes. For the rest of the short flight back to Nashville, I thought about that image I had of the gallant explorer who discovered the source of the Nile. It occurred to me that maybe he was sitting right next to me.

The next day, at school, Mrs. Duncan pulled me aside and gave me a list of students who had signed up for her summer Shakespeare course with their measurements. I looked over the list and gave her a brief time line on when I could get the costumes ready for them. She was disappointed that I would not be doing Shakespeare this summer, but understood why.

“So, you think you can help me?”

“Of course, I would love to help. It will mean I need a little assistance, but it will be easy.”

“I wish Mary could help too, but you say she will be helping you out with babysitting.”

“Yes, she and Doug are looking at it as a way of having family time together. It really is cute.”

“She is a smart girl. I can understand why she was the number one student this year. She beat you out by a half a point on her GPA adjusted scores. You were 4.35 and she was 4.4.”

“She did! Wow! Thanks for telling me. I never look at that stuff.”

“I am surprised she hadn’t mentioned it.”

Later, during choir, I pulled Mary aside. “How come you didn’t tell me you were the best student this year at school. Congratulations! I am so proud of you!” I hugged her.

I could tell she felt uncomfortable. “Mary, what is it?”

“I feel like I used you and Doug to get where I did. That’s not fair to you. I just felt like I had cheated you.”

“Yes it is fair. So what. You have helped me grow into the girl I have always knew I was. You are my friend. You got me through this year too. If anyone cheated, it was me. I feel like I used you to become who I am. I have robbed you of time with Doug. I love you.”

She looked at me and cried a little. “You mean it is okay that I beat you.”

“Of course it is. And you better not hold back either next year. Doug deserves the smartest wife in the world.”

“Wife!? You think we will get married one day?” She sounded dreamy.

“It is written all over both of you. You are meant for each other.”

Mary agreed to work with me on the costumes. As we worked on the costumes the next day, Mary had me tell her all about Tommy and our flight back to Nashville. No detail wasn’t gone over again and again. We giggled and plotted. After my trips to Canada and Australia, this was going to be an interesting summer.

The last day of school came. I said goodbye to all the friends I had made for the summer. This wallflower had begun to bloom. We promised we would keep in touch. Grace asked if I would be in choir next year and gave me the warmest of hugs saying she couldn’t wait to sing with me again. Vicki wanted me to go swimming with her or ice skating. First, before time with my new girlfriends, I had a month of intense traveling in front of me. I was going to be used for stings in Calgary and Winnipeg by the RCMP. Then, I was going to Australia for two weeks. But, first, I would be going to Boston with Natasha to show her the Freedom Trail as part of a diplomatic mission for the State Department and then a sting in North Adams, around the corner from my aunt and uncle.

Mom, Doug, and I got off the plane in Boston. We stopped at Harvard to let Doug check out the campus. Doug went in to get information about housing and get things set up for the fall semester. Dad and I just hung around on a park bench and watched people mill about.

“So, you still want to be a doctor?”

“Yeah, I most certainly do.”

“I like the clothes you did for Dad. I think it is a good look for him. I hadn’t realized what a difference it would make to have him wear a shirt that fits right or pants that weren’t too baggy in the wrong places.”

“Thanks Mom. All the guys look better. I appreciate the experience of making their clothes. They were a bit drab. They needed a woman’s touch.” I could see her stop to think about what I had just said.

Mom looked at the students walking by and said, “Are you looking forward to being yourself again.”

I thought about it for a moment as I watched the students too and carefully responded. “I don’t know. I guess so. I am just learning so much that I find myself dreading the day it stops.”

“I think that is why the doctor recommended you go on an exchange program to ease the transition. That way, you feel active.”

“Makes sense. Dr. Cramer says I will be a girl at school and a boy at home during that time. Then, come summer, I will be with uncle and a boy during the summer. Doug will be able to help then too.”

“We will miss you.”

I leaned into the my Mom and hugged her. “I will miss you all too.”

Doug came out. We went to a home where he would be staying. Being a minor still, he had to stay with a professor and legal guardian. The professor was a good friend of Doug’s Dad and would be a good place for him to stay. Apparently, Doug knew about this man all along. He would stay a day or so with him and catch up with us later in Greenfield via the Peter Pan Shuttle.

We headed off to Greenfield to stay with my aunt and uncle. Madame Lafarge and Natasha would be coming in later and staying with us. It would be good to see her again. Natasha and Evelyn were the same age too, which would make it fun. Doug would be joining me on the sting since my Dad would be in the next town over. With their basement finished out and the extra rooms they had in the house, everyone had their own room. But, we found out that was going to change soon.

“When are you due?” Mom was excited at hearing the news.

“Sometime in March. Right now, they are trying to pin down the time since I just got the test results back yesterday. They figure the first week, but, a sonogram in a month will tell them more.” Aunt Sandra rubbed her smooth belly. She didn’t look pregnant yet. Although, she had a glow about her. Appropriately, their house was big because she wanted a large family. I heard that she and Uncle Robert wanted six kids.

Evelyn looked at me a smiled. “I am going to get my very own baby to play with just like you have with the triplets.” I looked into their backyard and saw Tristan jumping up and down on the trampoline. Their backyard had no fence. I loved how it merged with the other homes around it. I visualized them playing together out on the lawn. I so wish I had been an older sister. But, taking care of babies, now toddlers, has been the best thing that ever happened to me. I hoped that coupled with the changes coming up this next year, I could just stay at home and continue to be a nanny to Alice, Carol, and Benjamin.

“Enjoy it Evelyn. It is the best feeling in the whole wide world to have a baby in your arms.” I grinned at her. “You wanna to go play with your dolls?”

She nodded and we hurried off leaving the adults to talk about having babies. Around three o’clock, the doorbell rang. I heard voices. Soon, Natasha was standing at Evelyn’s door with my mother. “Please, may I come inside?”

“Oh, Natasha! Are you leaning English? Es-tu en train d’apprendre l’Anglais? Please come in. Fait entree, s’il te plait.”

She came in. “Oui, je veux dire, yes, I am.” We gave each other a French ‘bise.’

“Voici ma cousine, Evelyn. This is my cousin, Evelyn. Evelyn, this is Natasha. Vous deux a le meme age. You both have … are … the same age.”

“Is this how you do it, cousin?” Evelyn gave Natasha a French ‘bise’ not quite as you are supposed to do. Natasha and I gave Evelyn a quick course in kissing your friends French style. We all giggled.

“Natasha, come in please. Join us.” Evelyn clearly was very excited to have someone her age from a foreign land. She handed her a doll. I leaned over and said to Natasha’s doll, “Comment t’appelle-tu? What is your name?”

Natasha sat down with us and smiled. “My nom es Annie-Claude. Pleazed to meet ewe!”

I picked up my doll and said, “Bonjour Annie-Claude, my name is Candy.”

Evelyn jumped in and introduced her doll. “My name is Margaret.” And then her doll gave Annie-Claude a ‘bise.’ Soon, all our dolls were giving each other kisses.

Mom continued to watch us. Soon, Aunt Sandra and Madame Lafarge came to the doorway and watched us playing. From where I was sitting, I could tell they were looking at each other and remembering their younger days. Aunt Sandra motioned for them to come join her downstairs and we kept playing. It was a great way for Natasha to learn English. Each doll could play a roll and it was lots of fun.

My doll asked Annie-Claude, “What is your favorite color? Qu’est que ce ton couleur préféré?”

Little by little, our little game became an English lesson for Natasha who clearly had fun in replying, “My favorite couleur es rose.” I played like the girl I am and responded, “Oh, I love pink too! How about you Margaret?”

“The rest of the time went like that. Finally, all good things must come to an end. About five-thirty, Aunt Sandra wandered in. “Ladies, it is time for us to get ready for dinner. We have a special place to go this evening for our guest, Natasha.”

Natasha looked at me perplexed. “Nous avons une reservation au restaurant pas loin d’ici. We have a reservation at a restaurant not far from here.”

We quickly got changed and washed up for our brief trip. Uncle Robert had come in by that time and greeted us all. He and Madame Lefarge seemed to hit it off.

“Thank you for being our personal historian on this trip, Mr. Miller.”

“Please, call me Robert. I am more than happy to oblige. I love teaching history. And to be able to show off my country, well, is a rare privilege.”

“Thank you. You may call me Lacey, please. What is this place you are taking us to that is nearby?”

“It is called the Publick House. It is about an hours drive. They serve authentic Yankee food in an old inn. Tomorrow, you will return to the same local and visit Sturbridge Village and see what life was like in the 1830s. Then, the next day, you will travel to Plimoth Plantation to see what life was like for the Pilgrims in 1627. And finally, I will take you into Boston to see the Freedom Trail so you can learn about the American Revolution. Which seems only fair since it was paid for with French money, Lacey.”

Madame Lefarge laughed. “You are right. I will love to see where our money went. Es-tu d’accord, Natasha?”

“Oui, Madame Lacey?” Natasha gave me a hug on the way out of the house. “Thank ewe. I luved playing dolls and learning Anglish.”

The seven of us piled into my aunt’s Honda Odyssey and headed down to Sturbridge. Aunt Sandra stayed behind because she was feeling morning sickness. Mom drove and Uncle Robert sat in the middle row. Evelyn sat in the front seat. Madame Lafarge sat next to Uncle Robert, And I sat in the back seat with Natasha and Tristan in the middle. Tomorrow, Uncle Robert was having to stay back in order to finish some end of the year work at school and prepare for summer school classes. But, for the moment, he was our instructor and he spent the time giving us a history lesson on the Massachusetts colony. I could see why he was popular instructor. He patiently waited out Natasha to see if she understood. He also allowed Madame Lafarge and I translate to Natasha. She learned about its history from the late 1500s to 1900.

Natasha said in French, “So, it is almost like Puy de Fou, Madame Lacey?”

Madame Lafarge responded in French, “Almost, Puy de Fou puts on productions that aren’t historically accurate. They are entertaining, but not accurate. Here, the ‘actors’ play someone from that time and teach you about what it was like to live in that day. They pretend to be really living in 1830 and they entertain you with a history lesson.”

Madame Lafarge took time to make sure Natasha understood what was being said. It was marvelous to see how much she cared for Natasha.

We arrived at the Publick house and had a nice dinner. We talked about many things and it was clear that Natasha was enjoying Evelyn and getting to learn about how she lived. We talked about school and things we liked to do. Both of them liked to ski. Both of them loved music. Both of them loved to get dressed up. They had so much in common.

On the way back, Natasha talked to me in French about the trip.

“Thank you, Samantha.”

“For what?”

“I would only learn about the family of a diplomat. But, here, I am learning about the family of an ordinary American in an ordinary town. The daily life is something I wouldn’t have seen if it weren’t for you.”

“You are welcome, my friend.”

When we got back, we sat outside on my uncle’s porch and talked more.

“Samantha, I need to ask you about you. No one is near to us. My security chef told me about you. Are you really a boy?”

“Yes, I am.”

“But, you seem so much like a girl. I would have never known.” She paused for a moment. A serious look came over her face. “Do you want to be a girl?”

She had me at a loss. How could I answer an eight year old girl without endangering the whole plan. And, if I told her, how could I expect her to keep the secret. Too many knew already. I looked down the street hoping for an answer that help. Doug would be here tomorrow having finished his tour of Harvard. He could help. But, that would be too late. Mom wouldn’t help. The question hung in the air and I had to answer it in a way that would work.

“Natasha, I am what I am. I cannot change that.”

She seemed to get excited as though she was telling me something that I hadn’t heard before. “Listen to me well, I hear that there is a surgery that can turn you into a girl. You can be a girl if you want.”

I didn’t react at first and then pouted. “That surgery turns me into a girl, true. But, I would never be able to become pregnant. Sadly.”

She kept up her assault on my stoic resolve. “You should consider the surgery. You seem very happy being a girl. I like you being a girl! I want you to stay a girl. I hate the idea of you being a boy.”

I looked down not wanting her to see what I was really thinking. “I will think about it, okay? We better go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” As we went inside, all I could think is that I wanted to tell her the whole truth. But, it would have to remain a secret until Doug pulled off his magic. At the top of the stairs, I stopped and took her hand. “Natasha?”

“Yes, my friend?”

“Thank you. I like being a girl when I am with you.”

She smiled as if I had said all I needed to say. We said our ‘bonne nuits’ and we were off to bed.

The next few days breezed by. At Sturbridge Village, she got to milk a cow and use a hammer and anvil. She marveled at how wool was made and how everyone dressed. The highlight of the day was a young couple with two children. They looked straight out of an old fashioned painting. The older girl, with her blond hair, was only six and as cute as a button in her long flowing dress and bonnet. Her sibling, which we took to be a girl also, was a in a similar bonnet and dress. The mother’s matched. They could have stepped out of a John Brewster painting from the early part of the 1800s.

Natasha, Evelyn, and I approached them. They looked stunning. The gentleman said that the clothing was really part of the regency and Georgian period. The time when George IV was regent king of England and then king of England. Styles changed slowly and the look was still popular in that area. He had a high straw hat on and a nice suit with a delicious dark brown vest that resembled the color of dark chocolate and a long billowy cotton shirt. His wife wore a dress in a muted green that was simple stunning against her white skin. It was the same dress color for both her children. One of whom turned out to be five, and then the other was her son, who just turned two. We found out that it was common in that day to dress the boys and girls the same until they were potty trained. It made it easier to change them out of their poopy diapers. The truth be told, the son looked stunning as a girl. I was jealous.

Natasha winked at me at finding out the youngest girl, was really a boy. Our highlight was a ride around the village in an old horse drawn carriage. The water mill was serene and pretty to behold. The covered bridge treated us to the sound effects of the two carriage horses pulling us along. All and all, it was a terrific stop on our tour of New England.

The next day, Uncle Robert pulled some strings and got us an overnight stay at Plimoth Plantation. We dressed as pilgrims and milled about. I loved being in a 17th century dress. Evelyn and Natasha giggled when I came out dressed in it because they knew what I really was. Never the less, I had a bonnet and a dress that went to the ground. We met the re-enactors as they went through their day. Seeing them live life daily took some of the puritanical sting out of the history books. Instead of being the ridged and foreboding folk I expected, they were human and caring. I heard them talking about a girl being in a family way that was unmarried and holding the offender to marrying her and making it right. The way they talked gave me the impression they were concerned for them rather than wanting to win an argument over what is right or wrong in God’s eyes.

I even came to learn from my uncle that puritans were quite understanding of human sexual needs. In fact, they felt those who withheld their bodies from their spouses were actually doing the work of the devil. They believed that the marriage was supposed to be a place of sexual expression. This betrayed almost everything I had heard about them in history class. They had strong families and loved people. I almost got the impression that instead of shunning me for my being a girl in a boy’s body, they would have showed me compassion and love rather than condemnation. The more I got to know these people, the more I loved them too.

We slept that night in a real pilgrim style home. But, there were decent facilities with real toilets behind the hut. So, we didn’t have to use chamber pots. We ate a real pilgrim meal and talked to re-enactors who taught us about pilgrim life.

The most interesting part of the trip to Pilmoth Plantation for Natasha was the next day when we visited the Wampanoag Indian Village. Natasha loved learning every thing Indian. She especially loved seeing the Indians in their native dress. But, the crowning touch was running into a group of French scouts. I found out, much to my surprise, that they were coed. They were being led by a first class Boy Scout from a local Boy Scout Troop. Their English was spotty and he spoke no French. Natasha sat back and watched me as I teased him.

“How come you don’t speak French. Pourquoi tu ne parles pas Français?”

The scouts all giggled as I ribbed him and told him that lots of Americans spoke French in French and winked at the group. After a bit of teasing, Natasha and I spoke with them about what we had all learned. They were thrilled to have met the daughter of the French Ambassador to America and said that she should join scouts when she gets back home.

The final day of our trip, we went to see Boston and travel the Freedom Trail. When we returned back to my uncles, Natasha asked me in French, “Would you like to visit my belle France?”

“Oh yes! I would. I want to go visit Juliette’s family in Harfleur and see the Eiffel Tower. I want to visit the beaches of Normandy. I was to go to Giverny and see where Monet painted. I want to visit the Louvre and the Musée D’Orsay. I want to see it all.”

She thought for a moment. “Do you wish to visit it as a boy or a girl?”

I giggled. “Ce m’est egal. I don’t care. Mais, but, it would be nice to visit it as a girl.”

Doug came out onto the porch and we had a good talk about France and America. Madame Lafarge and Mom eventually came out to join us.

Madame Lafarge said, “I want you to know that this has been a fantastic visit. You have treated us so well. We saw and learned things we never thought we would. And, Natasha got a chance to meet real Americans and learn how they live.”

Uncle Robert spoke for all of us, “You’re welcome. We are the ones who are honored. It isn’t often that we get to have such wonderful company visit us.”

“Nevertheless, I have to thank most of all you, Samantha. You not only saved Natasha’s birthday party, but you have been such a gracious and kind girl to have hosted us. I really did treat you badly and I am sorry. I wish we didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

“Please, I enjoyed the party. And, I love how you take care of Natasha. You treat her like she is your own child.”

The next day, after saying our goodbyes to Madame Lafarge and Natasha, Mom drove Doug and I to a home in North Adams. Mom was going to stay with Uncle Robert and Doug would be my official chaperon for the weekend’s sting. When we arrived, I saw Tommy waiting for us on the front porch. I have come to really like seeing him there when we arrive at a sting. He came down to help. I stayed with him. I didn’t simply give him a French ‘bise.’ I really kissed him on the cheek. He took my suitcase and we held hands going up to my room. This was not lost on either Doug or Mom.

“Mrs. Miller. Can we talk for a moment please?”

Mom was perplexed, but nodded yes. “My coach at school lectured us sternly during spring practice. He pointed out that a good team member plays their position and encourages the other players to do their best. But, as he stressed, we must all act as a team. The other day, I asked Samantha if we could be a team both on and off the field. That means whether we are on stings or at home, we play boyfriend and girlfriend. I really blew it when I didn’t see the boy on the hill. I know it was covered by Samantha. But, based on what my coach taught me, it was because I wasn’t doing the job I had been assigned. I know who Samantha really is. I also know that she can do a better job if I play my role as I should. So, I have asked for us to start dating. That will give me a chance to do a proper job during the stings and be less distracted. I hope that is okay with you. I know you had set rules with Dean. But, Dean didn’t know. I do. Still, I wanted to ask your permission to date your daughter.”

I could tell my mother was impressed with his explanation and his logic.

“I think I would be okay with that. The dating rules were meant to protect Dean. But, you don’t need to be protected in the same way. You need to protect her which pleases me. It makes sense. As long as you don’t fall for her.” Mom laughed at the last comment.

I giggled too. “I am sure he won’t, Mom. He thinks it will attract a few girlfriends at school after our job is finished.”

Mom laughed again. “I think it probably will.”

Tommy took my hand and we headed upstairs. When I got downstairs, I had to meal plan for an extra day. Since we were out of school, we we doing two sting days instead of one. Tommy and I began to prepare dinner together. I thought since we were in New England that we would have bangers and mash tonight. Tomorrow, shakshuka with poached eggs in the morning for breakfast. For lunch, it would be Monte Cristo sandwiches. For dinner, a classic Yankee pot roast with apple pie. For our second day, it would be Christmas Sausage Casserole in the morning, Philly steak sandwiches for lunch, and lobster newburg for dinner with Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.
My Dad, some years ago during his college days, grabbed a knock off recipe from Anthony’s Pier Four in Boston for lobster newburg. I had been dying to try it out since he gave it to me a month or so back.

Tommy and I peeled potatoes together. Instead of being stand offish, I began to snuggle next to him and show him affection while peeling. His permission to act all girl would give me the chance to explore what being a girl meant in a relationship.

“So-o, what movie are you going to take me to see on our first date?”

“When will you be back?”

“End of June. I am going to Canada then Australia.”

“How about Armageddon? It is about an asteroid that could hit Earth.”

“I was thinking maybe Mulan or Truman or The Man in the Iron Mask. You can always sell me on something romantic.”

“Girls!” He rolled his eyes and smiled. “So, you don’t want an action flick or a horror movie I bet?”

“Not especially horror. Maybe action. But, then again. I could see a romantic movie and drag all my girlfriends to see it with me. Then, if you show up, you could show off what a nice guy I have to them. Of course, provided you don’t take me to a horror movie. After all, you are in charge.” I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. He blushed.

“Okay. The Man in the Iron Mask sounds good. Should have action in it. So does Armageddon according to what I have heard. It is romantic too.”

“And r-romance! Thank you.” I titled my head towards him.

“You are going to enjoy this being all girl, aren’t you?”

“Yup!” I hugged him. He smiled. We started cutting up the potatoes and putting them on to boil. I prepped the bangers and onions. Soon, everything was done and we plated the dinner. Everyone at the table was having a good time. I sat there with my small portion and flirted with Tommy. He pretended that it was driving him crazy. But, I could tell by his smile, he thoroughly enjoyed it.

Debbie and I were chatting after dinner when I heard the news. “Carlson asked me to be Mrs. Schmidt.”

“And?”

“I said yes!” We squealed like two little girls.

“When is the wedding?”

“Because of my Dad’s health and some other factors, it will be August 22nd. But, in order for me to pull it off, I am going to need help from you.” She looked at me with pleading eyes. “Do you mind?”

I grinned from ear to ear. “When my Mom comes to pick me up, we can go over the schedule, but yes. I can do alterations and music. Where is the wedding going to be?”

“Well, here is the lovely surprise. Carlson is from Birmingham. And, because of the short notice, your grandfather pulled some strings. We are going to be using some facilities just off of Shiloh Battlefield at a church there. It is close to his home and it means that we have three major airports nearby to serve the wedding. Nashville, Memphis, and Birmingham.”

“Plus, it means that I can easily travel to the wedding site and help you! What about your job with the FBI?”

“Bill and your grandfather will pick up the security detail for the Murphys during our honeymoon. I am accepting a position as Murphy’s assistant, so, I will be leaving the FBI soon. And, it will mean that I have to move to Denver in the near future. Although, Carlson has been talking to her. She may, after the trial, move to the St. Louis office. That is why she was in St. Louis for the trial of David St. Jean.”

“Do I dare ask about where you are going on your honeymoon?” I giggled.

“No, but I sure could use some basic French lessons.” Debbie gave me a coy look and winked.

“Mind if I ask one more question?”

“No, what is on your mind?”

“Do you have your Mom’s wedding dress?”

“Oh my, that has possibilities. I like that idea. I will ask my Dad. I should know by the time you get back from Australia. But, I hadn’t thought of that. I was going to ask my aunt to stand in for her too.”

The sting went very well. They caught a huge amount of men which meant that we were almost at seventy-seven by the time my mom came early to pick us up. She had a surprise for me. My Dad was with her and my flight reservations had been changed so I could be taken up to Montreal to fulfill my Canadian obligations to the RCMP. I thought Tommy might be disappointed when I found out that he would be joining me later.

Before heading to Montreal and meeting up with Grandpa, we stopped off at St. Jean-sur-Richeleau to see Yvonne. I liked their new home. It was comfortable. Madame De Champs was a waitress in an Italian restaurant in town. It had a brick oven and made the most wonderful pizzas in the world. I found out from Yvonne that the town had mostly Italian food.

We took a walk along the river nearby a hotel. It was serene and beautiful.

“How did your testimony go in St. Louis?”

“They kept trying to ask questions about you. But, the judge kept telling the no. I had to tell the court, through many tears, about how I was raped. It was not fun. I hope they put him away for life!”

“From what I hear, they can’t. But, according to the law, once he finishes his time in the United States, he will have to come to Canada to serve whatever time he has to serve here. Then, both countries will deport him.”

“That trial starts soon. After the trial finishes in the states. I will have to testify again. They might have to call you in to testify here.”

“The crown informs me that the same rules apply here as they do in the states. They won’t know who I really am.”

“Are you scared?”

“No, I think I will be fine.”

“I am. I have to face the men who raped me again. But, they tell me they will stand with me and support me during the trial.”

We sat down on a bench and I held my friend for a while. We just watched the water flow by serenely. Eventually, one of us got the nerve to break the still air. “Yvonne, I wish I could be here all the time for you.”

“I wish you could too. I am making friends here though. Language isn’t a barrier here for me like it was in Tennessee. I love school. I am going to have a good life. Thank you for being there for me when I needed you most. None of this would have been possible without you. I would never have opened up to the police. Having someone my own age made me feel safe to talk. I was so scared when they picked me up.”

We sat there, held each other, and cried some more. Just the two of us. Good tears. Tears that cleared the air. Tears that watered the new ground we were standing on. We hugged and said goodbye. We would see each other again. Bonds like these can never be broken.

With that visit over with, Dad and Mom drove me up to Montreal. We went into the downtown to a restaurant called “Ben’s.” Ben’s had been around since the early part of the century serving the best smoked meat food in the world. We had a special meeting with Dr. Lefevre and two people whom we had never met before.

Mom and Dad were introduced to Madame Isabelle and Monsieur Jean-Claude Beauchamps from Myers Bluff. They were in their forties and a really nice couple. I knew something about them that Doug told me about. Madame Beauchamps’ brother committed suicide because of being rejected by the family. He was transgender and rejected when he came out. She has been looking for redemption for years. Doug made the arrangements for me to stay with them so they could help me come out to my parents. While in Myers Bluff, I would be seeing Dr. Lefevre to complete my official diagnosis of GID. They were aware of my role for the police and why I need a transition time next year. But, they also knew that it was an option for me to stay a girl with them.

The most important thing was for them to meet my folks and for them to get comfortable with them. And, thanks to the great smoked meat, that was easily accomplished. After that, we met up with my grandfather at the airport. He and I flew to Calgary.

At the airport, we met up with Tommy and his Mom. A constable with the RCMP greeted us and took us to a home in the outskirts of Calgary. It was strange to be able to see forever. I hadn’t realized the full extent of the plains and how far one can see. I can understand the term ‘Montana Sky.’ To help me understand this part of the continent better, Mom picked up a book for me to read called “The Horse Whisperer.” I bet she didn’t realize how racy certain parts could be. But, I loved the scenes with the horses and the story. I hope they make it into a movie.

The best part of reading the book was having Tommy’s arm around me as I read it on the porch of the two story home. He has a talent for snuggling and I have a talent for clinging. We make a good pair. We found out that they wanted to do the sting now because in a little less than a month, the Calgary Stampede was going to be held. They wanted to keep it clean as possible. I got the impression that they wanted to warn off child predators more than catch them. I was okay with that. It would mean that we wouldn’t have to testify.

The changing landscape also seemed to reflect my relationship with Tommy. Like the plains, there seemed to be nothing between us. He knew what I was and I knew what he was. It was like a marriage of convenience in some respects. I could pull my legs up on the couch and lean against him this time. The RCMP agents were fine cooks. They took over the kitchen duties, so we had little to do except read and hold hands. The truth be told, the whole week, whether it was Calgary or Winnipeg, I was happy and so was Tommy. So, we did a lot of talking. While they set up for a sting, Tommy and I snuggled on a front porch swing and watched the plains one day.

“What do you want to be when you grow up, Samantha?”

“Either a pediatrician or an OB/GYN.” I said dreamily.

“The later one means that means you would take care of girl parts, right?” Tommy chuckled as if to say it sounded strange.

“Yeah. I guess so. It does sound a little creepy, doesn’t it?” I hadn’t thought about it that way.

“I can never understand how a guy can turn that off so he can doctor them. I mean, to be honest, like most guys, I would be drooling.” I appreciated Tommy’s frankness.

“I guess I will have to ask Doug about it. I know he wants to be a gynecologist. And frankly, he has never told me why. I never thought to ask him. But, when he and I delivered that baby last December, I never thought about what I was looking at. I was just thrilled to see a baby born out of the birth canal. I never thought about the part of the body that it came out of until you mentioned it. At the time, it was magical. Even now, it is.”

“You helped deliver a baby? I didn’t know that. How did that make you feel.”

“Yes, I did. I felt great catching the baby. And then I saw her breast feed her infant child. I can’t explain it, but it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. When I see a woman’s body, I see the crucible of human life. I see a body that is totally designed to take a man’s seed, turn it into a new life, give birth to that life, and then nurture that life until it can take care of itself. That is an incredible responsibility.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. To be honest, I fear that I am more like Josh and it scares me. I have thoughts about seeing a girl without her clothes and doing you know what. Dad says that it is the hormones in my body that are affecting my brain. Do you think that way yet?”

“No. Not really. I guess I will think about having sex one day. But right now, I seem to enjoy just making friends for the first time. That reminds me, what about Diane?”

“Oh, that was to through Dean off the scent. Diane isn’t my girlfriend. Although, I did ask her. She said no.”

“Do you know Cat?”

“Yes. He is a really good artist. But what does that have to do with being a doctor?”

“He did a painting of me. Did you know that? It is beautiful. Remind me to show it to you some time.”

“No, I didn’t know that. Yes, I would like to see it.”

“So, are you going to learn a foreign language? What have you chosen?”

“Yeah, I have to. I think I will take Spanish.”

“I could help you with French.”

“True. I will keep that in mind. Maybe I will chose it.”

“Good. Because I would like to show you a soap that will get the stink out of your uniform when you play football this fall.”

“How did we get to laundry from my asking you what you want to be when you grow up?”

“I dunno. It just did. Oh, I get back at the end of the month, so, you want to do a movie on the 29th at the mall?” I giggled.

“Okay. But how did we get to a movie from my asking about what you want to do when you grow up?”

“Relax, Tommy. I am being a girl just like you asked me. Get used to it. Did you like ‘Lord of the Flies?’ I really like this book my Mom bought me.”

“Yeah, it was good book.”

I kissed him on the cheek. “You really are going to have to do a better job of keeping up with me.”

Tommy scratched his head with his free hand. “Let me know if Doug switches from being a gynecologist to a psychiatrist? I think I may need one after this conversation.”

“I will let Doug know. Oh, speaking of psychiatrists, what do you think about weddings?”

Tommy was very grateful that we were called back in. I think his head was about to explode.

With our Canadian obligations over, we passed through American passport control and flew back to Nashville. Apparently, Tommy asked his mom about our conversation switching topics so frequently and she said the same thing. Get used to it.

I didn’t have much time to prepare for my next trip. I packed for a cold climate. I looked over my Aussie passport. It was all I would need. No visa requirement. No immigration control. Just customs. Like last time, we were met by the AFP. We felt special from the first moment. It was Superintendent Stanley who met us and treated us to a ride to the American Consulate in Sydney.

“So good to see you again. I have heard so many good things about you Samantha. Making the French ambassador's daughter feel special for her birthday and showing her New England!” Mr. Abernathy greeted us and had Superintendent Stanley come in too. Constable Leonard was waiting for us. He was Abernathy’s security guard now. Grandpa introduced Mom around to everyone. Mom enjoyed meeting everyone and kept looking at me while they told her stories about me.

Our visit would allow us to visit properly the sites we had seen on our last visit. First up, we were headed to Adelaide to visit the Crawfords. Duncan and Trent were thrilled to see me again. This time, there wouldn’t be any swimming pool time. However, my reputation as Trent’s girlfriend had grown legendary and I heard that I was expected to be so again followed by a few snickers. But first, before we did anything, there was some business they had to do first. Mr. Abernathy got all formal with Grandpa. “Roscoe Milsap, on your behalf, I accepted this award for your heroic action in saving a little girl from being kidnapped. Here you go!”

Mom looked baffled. “When did you get your name changed?” It was explained to her that Mr. Abernathy accepted the award on Grandpa’s behalf and he was obliged to pass it along.

The next day, we flew to Adelaide. Sergeant Crawford met us at the jet bridge as we exited the plane. I ran up to him and hugged him like the girl I am. He was was a bit surprised, but hugged me back. “Hey, babe. Its good to see ya. Boys missed ya cooking.”

Grandpa sauntered up to him with a wry smile and shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder while I was still hugging him. “Oi, that’s me granddaughter you’ve kidnapped James. I may have to report you to the authorities if she doesn’t let you go.”

Sergeant Crawford let out a really good belly laugh, “Let a Yank into your life and all hell breaks lose, eh?” Sergeant Crawford patted me on the head and then mussed my hair. “So nice to have you back, Robert! Did you all have a good flight?”

“Yes. And this is my daughter-in-law, Samantha’s mother, Pamela. Pamela, this is James Crawford. He is a sergeant in the Australian Federal Police force.”

“A real pleasure, Ma’am. We loved being her adoptive parents for a few days. You have done an excellent job in raising her. We are really looking forward to showing you Adelaide properly this time.”

I clung to him as we walked to baggage claim. We collected our luggage and put it in the back of Sergeant Crawford’s van. He took us straight away to his home. The moment I came out of the van, karma struck. Trent came up to me and hugged me just like I had hugged his dad. I hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, Aussie boyfriend, how is it cracking?”

“Better check his room first, Darling?” came a whimsical voice from the front door. I looked over. It was Mrs. Crawford having a good laugh.

“Mum!” said Trent, obviously annoyed with his mother’s teasing.

“Mrs. Crawford, is his room clean?” I couldn’t help it. I loved teasing him too.

“Yes it is, so it looks like you have a boyfriend for a few days.” I held his hand as he led me to the door proud of his conquest. “I love being here again, Mrs. Crawford. It is a lot colder than when I was here last. How cold will it get tonight?”

“Could drop down to zero degrees or lower. That would be thirty-two degrees or less on the Fahrenheit scale. So, we will likely have a frost tonight.” I gave her a hug as we came in.

“Did you talk to the boys about how to treat female guests?”

“Yes, I remembered, hon. They have been told to keep the seat down.”

Sergeant Crawford followed us in. “Honey, this is Pamela, Samantha’s mum. Pamela, this is my wife, Angela.”

My mother and Mrs. Crawford hugged. “Thank you for taking such good care of my daughter. She said you all were very sweet and kind to her.”

We ladies assembled in the kitchen and began to plan the next few days’ meals. We wanted to balance Aussie meals with American ones so we could exchange our cultures. Truth be told, we weren’t that much different in what we ate. But, I knew that my beef brisket was going to be a huge success. Mom and I shared a room. The boys doubled up in a room and my grandfather slept in one of theirs.

After an Aussie dinner of lamb chops, we went to bed. Mom and I did our evening ablutions and dressed for bed. I wore a really cute ‘Hello Kitty’ nightshirt. I chuckled at how girly I was as I looked into the mirror. That was the idea. It was designed to fool the boys, Duncan and Trent.

I went into our shared bedroom. We sat on the bed and brushed our hair.

As I was brushing Mom’s hair, I asked, “Mom, why does Tommy feel guilty that he didn’t spot the boy on the hill? It seems unimportant. But, it has bothered him since.”

“You may not like the answer. You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Boys and men have fragile egos. When it comes to the job they are assigned, they don’t like finding out they aren’t superheros. They don’t like hearing their mistakes or that they are powerless as they are. So, he has come to the conclusion the reason you, as a boy, haven’t been bothered by it comes down to the fact you are playing a girl.”

“So, if I play all girl with him, then he thinks he won’t make that mistake again.”

“Yes.”

“That’s silly.”

“That is the way a boy thinks. So, why are you saying yes to being all girl?”

“I don’t know. I think it is because it feels good to looked after. He pulls a chair out for me. He opens the door for me. It is kind of sweet. I always thought that is why Dad does it for you. Because he is tender and sweet to you. I like the way he treats you.”

Mom grinned and blushed. “Yes, your Dad is a very tender man with a tender heart. And you are right. There is a huge difference between a man pulling the chair out because they feel superior and a man that does it because his heart is tender and loves and respects you.”

“Is that why Dad doesn’t mind losing the argument to you?”

“You mean that I give him the final say and he does it my way even though he thinks his way is better?”

“Of course.”

“Believe it or not, your Dad is often right in those arguments and I have to say I am sorry afterwards. But, he also finds a way to make my way work so that everything turns out fine anyway. No one ever notices, but I do. That is the difference between someone who truly loves you and someone who rules you. Your Dad lets me win and helps me win without holding onto a grudge.”

“You both make such a good team. I hope I marry as well.”

Mom started to brush my hair out. “Have you figured out what kind of girl you want in your future?”

“No, but being a girl has taught me that some girls are shallow and some are deep. Mary is very thoughtful. Grace can have the depth of a raindrop on hot pavement some days and the ocean the next. I have also learned that girls are vulnerable to their feelings of self worth because of looks. Guys not so much. So, girls make bad choices because they feel worthless about how they look when they aren’t.”

“Sad, but true. I have known too many girls who, because of low self-esteem, would do something dumb just to prove they were worth something.”

“Like jumping into bed with someone to try and keep them?”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Yes! I wish I could say that doesn’t happen. And I think you saw that happen with Tickles and Robert. Just so you know. I am so glad you introduced him to Juliette.”

“Can you help me understand something else?”

“Sure, Honey. What is it?”

“Debbie is having me sing this song for her wedding. And there is a lyric I don’t understand. It goes, ‘Woman draws her life from man and gives it back again.’ What does that even mean?”

“Oh, that is a wonderful song. Your Dad and I had it sung at our wedding. The lyric is really a sweet reference to the various cycles of life together as a couple. Biologically, I could not conceive of you, your sister, or your brother without the biological contribution from your Dad. And with his contribution, I give life back to him that he by himself cannot have without me in his life. Emotionally, I draw love from your Dad which enriches my life. I in turn give that love back to him which enriches his life. Physically, I enjoy your Dad’s kind of strong support. In turn, I give it back to him with my kind of strong support. Together, we make a home, a team, and a couple. Together, we make a life worth living.”

“Ahhh, that is sweet!”

“Yes, it is.” Mom sniffed a little. “What else is she having you sing?”

I excitedly said, “A Beatles song, ‘Here, There, And Everywhere,’ and an Enya song, ‘Marble Falls,’ I sing at the beginning of the ceremony before the wedding march. ‘The Marriage Song’ by Peter whatshisname when they stand at the alter before the minister administers the vows and they take their vows. Before their first kiss, ‘Raised on Love’ by Justin Hayward. And, after they exit, I will sing ‘For Once in My Life’ by Stevie Wonder.”

“Wow! Do you mind? I mean, that is a lot of singing.”

“True. I am going to ask Mary to help. That way we have a backup singer in case I lose my voice or something.”

“She really is asking you to do a lot. I am not sure it is fair.”

I began to cry. “I need to do this Mom. I want to do this.”

Mom turned and looked at me with a worried expression. “Why?”

“Because, it will be the first year anniversary of saying goodbye to Cybil. It’s helping me heal. I still miss her.”

Mom took me into her arms. “Something tells me you need to cry.” I held onto her and sobbed for about ten minutes. “It will be okay, Honey.”

“Thanks for letting me cry, Mom. It still hurts every so often.”

“That is what I am here for Pipsqueak.” Even Mom was calling me Jane’s nickname for me. It felt good.

“Why do you think Debbie and Carlson decided to get married so fast?” I asked.

“Age, maybe. They were ready to get married. Could be they were tired of living alone. Any number of reasons. You grow up and find you miss having a family and coming home alone isn’t so fun anymore.”

She continued to hold me and stroked my back to soothe me. It helped. And then she changed the subject. I think it was to help keep my mind off of Cybil. “My little girl is growing up too. Soon, you will a teenager. Then one day, I am going to have to say goodbye to you too one day at your wedding.”

As I regained my composure, “I know. But, I hate the idea of becoming a teenager. I wish I could skip it and just go straight adulthood.”

“Why, I would think you would be excited to become one. They can be great years.”

“They are also the years without cartwheels.” I pouted.

“What?” Mom gave me this look as though I said something strange. I guess I did.

“Mommy, every see a teenager do a cartwheel? They stop playing. They stop doing cartwheels.”

“You don’t see me do cartwheels? I am just like a teenager in that respect.”

“But you smile and giggle when I do them. You appreciate them even if you don’t do them. Teenagers don’t want to have anything to do with them. They think cartwheels are beneath them. I don’t want to become a teenager and forget how important cartwheels are.”

Mom hugged me and laughed. “I am sure you won’t, Honey, I am sure you won’t.”

The trip to Australia flew by. The meals in Adelaide were great as was the tour. It was sad to say goodbye. We headed next to Melbourne. The highlight was that I had a great time at Sovereign Hill. I joined a group of fifth grade students. They gave me an exemption to participate because I was from the states. I showed the students there a picture of me dressed as a Pilgrim and a picture of me at Sturbridge. I learned that boys got educated if their parents had money. Girls did too, but they were really supposed to learn how to keep house and braid their hair.

We flew back to the states and I had the shock of my life when we walked into the heat of summer. Still, it was good to be home at last. July and August would be a season of change. And, meeting with Dr. Cramer to discuss recent issues would be a great help too.

“It’s called traumatic masturbatory syndrome. And, I say officially stop it now. But, given your gender issue, it may not be harmful at all. If you were to remain male, however, it would likely result in impotence. It is not a normal way for a male to masturbate.”

I had just finished telling Erin about what happened with Dean which led to a discussion of sexual fantasies and what I did about them. I confessed that I did have strong desires of late and had experienced an orgasm. It totally shocked her to find out that instead of experiencing it while erect, I had the orgasm while I was limp. And that led to her finding out how I did it. She said another name for it was prone masturbation. All of which was confusing to me.

“The important thing, Samantha, is that you are starting to react sexually to the opposite sex, or rather, what will be the opposite sex when your transition is complete.”

“Good to know. What does it mean?”

“It means that boundaries are more important than ever for you. And we will continue working on that. In the meantime, I think we should discuss what Tommy considers ‘partner’ to mean. What do you think he means when he says he is your partner?”

“Based on our talks, he means that his job is to cover my identity. Which means if I want, he can take dance classes with me or skating classes. It also means that we are ‘dating.’ Doing things together.”

“What are you going to do when you start to feel the way you are acting?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that for the next six months, I get to be a girlfriend and I like that.”

“All right. I just insist you be careful. You are beginning to feel your true self.”

After the meeting with Dr. Cramer, Mom dropped me off at the mall. I saw Tommy and ran up to him and hugged him. He hugged me back. “That was a long two weeks. Did you have a good time in Australia?”

“Yes. But I am having a better time now. What movie are we going to see?”

“Truman. There are bunch of movies coming out next month that are way better. Iron Mask is no longer showing. So, I figured out that this is a good test movie.”

I took his arm and we walked to the ticket window. He gave them some coupons and we got tickets for the movie. “Where did you get the coupons?”

“Debbie gave them to me. They want us to spend more time together, so they are picking up the tab for us being together. Do you mind?”

“No. I think I am going to like this dating thing.”

“Good. Because I want to get in lots of practice.”

We came in from the door to the top row and went as low as we felt comfortable. I let Tommy guide me to what he thought were the best seats available. We held hands and enjoyed the movie. I snuggled and he snuggled back. We really enjoyed the movie. When the lights came up, my world was turned upside down.

Sitting a few rows in front of us was Grace from school. Sitting with arm around her was Dean. I looked at Tommy who recognized what was going on.

Instead of panicking, I let him embrace me and pretend to be kissing me what he watched them leave.

Now I had a new problems to consider.

Why was Dean back? And for how long? And why was he with Grace?

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[Author’s note:

Please take time to watch this video. It will break your heart. As I write Samantha’s story, it is the reality of what evil is going on in the world that breaks my heart the most.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IbOSX7vSGTE

Sniff sniff. This video gets to me. Gotta go blow my nose. Until next time. – AuP ]

Chapter 22 – My Love Sonnet

Tommy’s embrace to hide me left me wanting more. I resisted wisely, but if it hadn’t been for Grace and Dean, I would have decided to explore Tommy’s mouth with my tongue in a heartbeat. I had never felt this before. It wasn’t on my radar screen. I wanted to take that gorgeous head of his that was watching out for me and kiss it hard. I caught myself. I wondered if Tommy knew that my racing heart wasn’t racing because of Dean. It was racing because of him.

Tommy said, “They’re gone.” He looked at me. I was breathless. He asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Seeing him here gave me such a fright.” I covered the real reason I was breathless.

“I can imagine.” Tommy said looking back over his shoulder. “I recognized him. I did my job.” He smiled with pride as he concluded that he had redeemed himself.

Having caught my breath, I said sweetly, “Yes, yes you did. Thank you!”

We waited a few minutes and then I called Mom from a payphone. She came and picked us up. We dropped Tommy at home and I thanked him for a nice first date. Our next one was going to be after tomorrow. This was a trial run. Mom drove me back home. “So, you saw Dean with Grace? Dad mentioned that Dean called a few days ago. He was going to be in town briefly with his mother to pick up their remaining stuff and take it back to Atlanta. He told him you were out of town. I guess that is when he called Grace.”

“I understand. It just scared me. Mom, I am going upstairs and take a quick little nap. I think I need a little recovery time.” Mom nodded and I went upstairs. But, instead of sleeping, I pulled out a regency romance novel that my sister had sitting around. I had read it before. I went to the bodice ripping section and recaptured the feelings I had that moment with Tommy. I found myself humping the edge of the bed until I felt an incredible release over my entire body. Even my breasts began to react and become aroused. I felt guilty, but kept reading until I had another and another. I moaned into my pillow each time so no one would hear. I hid the book and just lay there spent. Sex, I had discovered, was going to be a problem for me. I longed for it now. And I had to control these new feelings that I had. And, I needed a body that would allow it to be female that experienced it with a guy.

To distract myself, I sat down and wrote my first love sonnet based on my painting downstairs.

Fisherman’s Catch by Samantha Miller

The hollow reeds do share flowers there
down into virgin waters that flow below and beyond
As give such purpose to a man’s thoughtful stare
to his dear enticement to those below who are loath to respond.

The fisherman’s still and winsome craft
is but a thin yarn that he cleverly spins out
meters upon meters along his sturdy shaft
with such meat that will yield a victorious route

The prey, she waits below and wonders as she is tempted
She wonders if this meat bring her life or bring her death
While up above the fisherman calmly waits as he is well bedded
as the prey yearns to capture her substance with watery breath

For the daily battle is constant and stern regarding the Fisherman’s catch
And the victories won and lost depend on a quick line sent with all clever dispatch

I put down my pen and reread my first love sonnet. The images were overwhelmingly lustful. I was caught up in passion and I knew it. I didn’t want to make love as a man. In fact, I found my erections ugly and enjoyed the fact that I had found a way around them to feel pleasure.

Troubled by what I had just done, I crossed the street to tell Doug what had happened. Terribly concerned, he was still kind to me and just listened. He thought for a moment and then took a blood sample. He headed off to his parents’ lab on the bus. Later that night, I got a knock on the door. Doug pulled me outdoors to talk to me.

“Your hormones need to be adjusted. You have a large amount of testosterone all of a sudden, Which means that your female hormones are either too high or your balls are kicking in. Did you take your medicine while traveling about?” I gave him funny look. He knew the answer. “I will get them back down to none existent and your libido will drop too. But, you can’t do this again! For you, like many female wired brains, a dose of testosterone can be a powerful aphrodisiac.”

It was such a relief to hear that. Now that I know the root cause, the next six months looked to be easier to deal with. The one take away I had which made me feel better too was that I was attracted to boys and that I had female desires. The bad takeaway was it was my fault for not staying on top of my pills.

Doug gave me an injection of male hormone blockers. “I won’t usually do this for you. But, your libido being out of control is a problem that needed immediate attention. This means you can’t mention any of this to Dr. Cramer or Dr. Cox.”

The next day, feeling more in control, I had a pleasant surprise nevertheless. “Let’s get going, Pipsqueak!” I eagerly skipped along side Jane as we headed to her car. She was treating me to a girl’s day out at the salon. I was going to get prettied up. “If you are going out on a date tomorrow with Tommy, I want you to drive him nuts.” I just grinned.

On the way over to the day spa, I could tell Jane was giddy. “Squeak, squeak.” She smiled at my love call. “You know something is up, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I can sense it. Why are you so happy? Squeak, squeak.” I nuzzled up against her like a pet mouse.

“I met someone. I didn’t expect it. I had taken time off from dating as you know and that whole scene and now I met someone. It has been seven months since I last dated.” She giggled and shook her shoulders as if to say she was hopelessly in love.

She stopped at the mall, pulled into a parking place. We got out. I held on to her as we walked in. I just looked up at her and grinned. She knew what I was asking even without my saying it. “Okay, okay, I will tell you! You don’t have to yell at me with your eyes like that.”

We sat outside the spa waiting until our time to go in. Jane swooned. “His name is Oliver Leopold Hansen. He is handsome, funny, and a dream.” I met him coming out of volunteer time at the old folks home a couple of weeks back. He is a rheumatologist. He just moved here from Louisiana and is a resident at the local hospital. He is not a full doctor yet. He is about six years older than me. He graduated from Tulane.” She looked at me smiling at her. “You are happy for me. I am so glad!” I nodded yes.

Jane told the hairstylist, “No, she doesn’t want a short style. Something to show off her beautiful long hair would be nice. And not something that might show up in a movie. I want her to be unique.”

I sat in the salon chair and looked at the styles in the magazine, when Beatrice, the hair dresser, said, “You know, we have been getting more and more teenage girls coming in to have their hair styled for something called a Quinceanera. In the Latin culture, a girl comes out when she is fifteen and is presented by the Dad as someone who can be married. Well, not exactly married, but you can date her, I think.” She proceeded to show me photos of what she had done for them.

“Oh, I really like that one!” It was a photo of a lovely young girl with her hair piled off to one side and soft curls. It really framed her face nicely.

Jane whispered in my ear, “I love it, but you need to hide your face for the future.”

We kept looking and after a few minutes, we found a simple hairstyle that would have my face covered partially by long strands of hair over my left eye. It would mean that I would have highlights too and my hair would look completely adult. It was beautiful and sophisticated. I looked at Jane. “You don’t think I am a little young for that?”

“No, and it would look good at Debbie’s wedding too.” Jane was thrilled, I could tell.

Truth be told, I loved it. It would made me look so like a grown woman and not like the little girl I was. I held my breath for a moment. “Okay, do it before I change my mind!” Jane and Beatrice giggled. I added, “Again!” and they burst out laughing.

Beatrice said, “Honey, this will be the death of your boyfriend. He will die of smiles.” Jane nudged her and said, “And, she will be the toast of the mall too!”

Jane went for a pageboy look with highlights too. We had our nails and toes done too. It was all so dreamy. As we exited the spa, Jane took my hand and said, “We are not done yet, Pipsqueak. I have a credit card from Officer O’Brien with money to help you get a nice outfit too. She says you haven’t been spending enough.” So we went shopping. I tried on dresses and more dresses.

Finally, I settled on this grunge style dress that had a high neckline and a low back line that showed a lot of my back. It had a nice lace touch in the back too. I got a maroon purse and pumps to go with it too. My silver necklace looked nice with it too. I added some silver bracelets and a little silver chain around my ankle.

When we got home, Mom looked at me and Jane. “Oh honey, you look sweet, but aren’t you taking this too far.”

Jane said with a smirk, “Mom, she looks too girl to be a boy, wink wink. And, it is my fault. If I am going to have a little sister for a while, I am going to enjoy dressing her up.”

Mom looked at me and smiled. “Okay, but next time you get the urge Jane,” Mom paused for effect, “include me! That hairstyle looks so cute on you too! And the dress is pretty too.”

“Okay Mom!” Jane quipped, “We can both corrupt her.” I just blushed.

The next day, all dolled up, I met up with Tommy at the mall so we could go to ‘Armageddon’ and have lunch. “Wow, have you seen my girlfriend, Miss?” Tommy teased. “Can I date you instead? You are so much more beautiful and sophisticated than she was on our first date.”

I grinned at the sweet complement. Then, I twirled and looked at Tommy and playfully asked, “You really like it, Tommy?”

“You look good enough to eat!” He gave me a winsome smile and I melted into his arms.

“Thank you. You say the sweetest things.” Tommy led me to the food court where he got some pizza and I got a small chef’s salad. We sat down at one of the tables. I could tell he was enjoying showing me off. And frankly, I was thrilled to be shown off.

“Hey Tommy, Samantha!”

“Oh, hi Cat! You know Samantha?!” Tommy looked at me puzzled and then at Cat. Thankfully, he didn’t ask how.

“Yeah, she is one of my favorite models. Samantha, I love that look on you. You look beautiful. Although, I can’t paint you in the French style now. The hair style is too contemporary. Mind if I join you both?” Tommy eagerly motioned for Cat to sit. I could tell that he was thrilled to be in the good graces of the most popular outsider and loner of Canterbury Middle School.

“Sure. What brings you to the mall?”

“Have to get some sketching pad for my Art Deco class this summer. Come to think of it, I could us you both as models. Would you be interested?” Tommy looked over to me with pleading eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind, Cat, as long as it is okay with Tommy here. He has a lot of plans for us this summer.” I figured I was doing the diplomatic thing to let him make the arrangements and take the lead. Hearing his response, I could tell I said the right thing.

“What did you have in mind, Cat? Will it take much time?” Tommy inquired.

“Well, I have to do design work in the Art Deco style of posters they made during the late 20s and early 30s. So, Tommy, I would put you into to a cool gangster syle zoot suit and Samantha into a silk flapper dress. Have you seen the Michael Jackson video for Smooth Criminal. Like those outfits.”

I quietly said to myself, please, oh, please say yes Tommy. The idea of being dressed like a flapper sent chills down my spine. I fell in love with the idea of Tommy with a Tommy gun, a cigarette in his mouth, while holding me too. It enthralled me. I found myself getting a little hot thinking about it. I took a drink of my soda and cleared my mind as best I could. I concentrated on my chores for when I got home of doing laundry, cleaning the bathrooms, and making dinner. The testosterone in my system was still affecting me. My own fault, really. A smidge of the feeling lingered as I awaited Tommy’s response. He was looking down at his pizza thinking about it.

Tommy looked back up and asked, “Cat, would I be able to get a copy of it for my room? I mean, it would be awesome. I don’t mind modeling, but Samantha is so beautiful, I would like a memory so I never forget her.” I blushed at his comment. He thought I was beautiful.

“Ironically, I will be digitizing the art using brand new tools that allow me to turn them into TIFFs for a printer and be able to make a bunch of copies. It is a new technology and the thought of doing it on a computer assisted platform has me salivating at the prospect. And the neat thing is that I only need to do sketches of you both in various poses. So, all it will take is an afternoon.”

Tommy smiled and my heart leapt with joy. He put out his hand to Cat and said, “Deal! Sounds like Samantha and I can get a poster. Can I be drinking a beer.”

“As long as it is a root beer.” Cat interjected.

“Yeah, I don’t want my folks to get the wrong idea, do I? Actually, that would be cool if you could make it a root beer float too.” Tommy rubbed his tummy.

Cat chuckled, “I like that idea. You are making me hungry though. Well, that fits. I am suppose to be a starving artist.” We laughed at Cat’s joke. It was a pleasant discovery to find out he had a sense of humor.

We exchanged info and set up for another session. Cat was going to find a costume shop, arrange a loan of a 1928 Packard Runabout a friend of his Dad’s had recently restored, and get back to us in the next few days. I was ecstatic to be doing another modeling session with Cat. I gave him the information about Georgette’s Fabrics and told him that if he couldn’t find anything my size, I could always make something. For Tommy too, if Cat needed it.

I got chills again when Cat looked at me with a smile, winked at me, and said, “I may just do that.” I had to swallow hard to keep from shouting for joy at the thought of having to measure Tommy. Once again, I had to push thoughts out of my head.

We finished out lunch, and Tommy took my hand and began to lead me down to the theatre. He dropped his hand and put his arm around my waist and cupped the small of my back sending chills up my spine. I responded in kind. We walked slowly as eyes of the other kids in the mall drank us in. Tommy had dressed well too. He wore a polo shirt and nice slacks and dress shoes. It was a nice contrast to my somewhat busy floral print.

As we stood in line, I heard in a somewhat snide tone, “Hey, Tommy, who’se the cute chick?” I bit my lip to keep from smiling and blushed at the description of me despite the tone. A couple of guys I remembered from years ago in elementary came up. They didn’t see Samuel, the boy. They saw a girl. I smiled at them demurely.

Tommy answered in a tone dripping with scorn, “Hey Brent. This is Samantha. She goes to school at Danvers. I met her at the skating rink. You know, the place you said I was wasting my time at while you guys went to the mall to find real girls. Say hello Samantha to the dregs of Canterbury Middle School. Brent and Olson.” Of course, I had to chuckle that I wasn’t a real girl … yet.

I didn’t know quite how to greet them. Should I greet them with confidence, irony, or say nothing. I chose to respond meekly, “Hello Brent and Olson, it is nice to meet you.” I pressed into Tommy for protection and leaned my head on his shoulder, put my hand on his chest, and looked up to the boys who were sizing me up and down.

Tommy didn’t miss a beat. “See what I mean guys, she’s keeper.” He hugged me with the arm he had around my waist and with the other reached up and kissed the hand I had placed on his chest.

I heard Olson mutter under his breath, “Lucky bastard!” I didn’t react, but I felt like not only did I pass inspection, but I made Tommy look like a home run hitter who was the captain of the football team too. It gave me a warm feeling and a sense of growing awe to know that I might be a trophy girlfriend. I intended to play my role to the hilt.

“I hope you guys don’t mind, but I want Tommy all to myself. Why don’t you keep trolling and see what nine-year-old girls you can dredge up since that seems to be your maturity level.”

Brent looked at Tommy, “She’s got a smart assed lip for a broad.”

“At least I am going out with a broad instead of my sister, right Olson?” Tommy said with a wry smile that betrayed a knowledge of something that must have happened before I met them.

They left in a huff. Tommy laughed as they walked away. “Jerks!” He then looked down at me. “You enjoyed making fools of them, didn’t you? That was a great line about nine-year-olds. I am going to have to remember that one.”

“I didn’t know I had it in me, to tell you the truth.” I said frankly.

“I didn’t either, but I am sure glad to know it now. Dating you is going to be worth it. But, keep it up and sooner or later, I am going to forget that you aren’t a real girl.” He kissed my head.

Before I could think, I allowed “Thanks Tommy” to escape my lips. He looked at me for second. I shrugged my shoulders as if to say I really didn’t meant it, but I did. I really did.

During the previews, I brought something up to Tommy. “Would you like to do a special dance for Debbie’s wedding?”

“What are you thinking?”

“About what Cat said and doing Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal for her wedding reception. It would be awesome and very appropriate. We would need five guys and two ladies to pull it off. According to my Grandpa, the Baptist Church won’t allow them to dance, so they are going to set up a special tents at the battlefield with a dance floor for the reception and tables for eating.”

Tommy was hesitant at first. “Look,” I said, “if we start right away, we could have the dance routine down by the wedding. Plus, we could do it for your friends in the mall. If you dance the lead part ...”

“Okay, I get your drift. I have seen the video for it. It would be cool. Let me work on it. But, you can count on Connie to do the other female dance, I think. She loves Michael Jackson.”

I was impressed that he was open to the idea. “I was hoping you would like the idea. And, I would love to work with Connie. She is sweet.”

We dropped the subject because the movie started.

I cried at the end of the movie. No, I balled at the end of the movie. Tommy seemed to enjoy seeing me lose it as the climatic scenes unfolded and a father’s love for his daughter was on display for all the world to see. He said with a barely hidden pride in his voice, “See, I told you it was also romantic movie.”

“Yeah, you did. Thank you for taking me. I loved it. I loved going out with you too.” My damn mouth put my foot in it again. He politely ignored it. As we left the mall to wait for Jane to pick us up, I spied Brent and Olson trolling for girls with all the charm of Beavis and Butthead.

As Jane pulled up to pick us up, he opened up the front passenger door for me to get in. I was about to get in, when I stopped. I smiled and said to him, “No, I would like to sit in the back with you.” He closed the door and opened the rear door for me. I said, “Thank you. You are a real gentleman,” and gave him a kiss on the cheek and stepped into the car.

As he came around to the other side, Jane looked back at me nodding her head and said, “Nicely done. Make him feel good about being a gentleman. How was the movie?” She then winked and added, “Must have been a tear jerker, I can see someone’s make up needs a little attention.”

“Do we dare tell you?” I inquired. I didn’t want to ruin it for her if she was gong to see it.

“No, please don’t! Oliver is taking me out to see it on the fourth before the fire works show.” Tommy got into the back seat with me and overheard the rest. “Oliver has arranged a picnic at the park for us and fireworks. It is going to be very romantic.”

“Want to double date?” Tommy asked whimsically.

“No, Tommy, I appreciate the offer, but I want to be alone with Oliver in case of additional fireworks.” Jane beamed. It took Tommy a moment, then he got the reference and turned red.

“I understand, we are just still kids and we would cramp your style. No problem.” Tommy reached over and took my hand and squeezed it. I was beginning to see that Tommy was a closet romantic and appreciated spending time with the opposite sex. I figured out that his older sister, Connie, and he must have played a lot when they were younger and he learned to enjoy spending time with her. No doubt, he had to endure lots of time with his mother and Connie too, watching them interact.

As we dropped off Tommy, he opened my door to let me out and then escorted me the short step to the front passenger door and opened it for me. “Thank you, Tommy. I had a good time.” I gave him a hug. “See you next week.”

Tommy asked, “Where are we going this time?”

“Colorado, I think. Which means Agent Carlson and Agent Debbie!”

Tommy smiled and rolled his eyes, “Girls. All you will be talking about is wedding stuff, right?”

I giggled and said, “You bet!”

“We will do a better job this time, for sure.” Tommy leaned down and kissed me on the cheek and guided me into the front seat. He waved as we drove off. Jane drove me home. Before we got out of the car, she handed me a little white box.

“Here Samantha, this is something for us.” I looked at her as if to say, ‘how can you give us a something in such a small box.’ “Go ahead, open it Pipsqueak!” I open it and I gasped. It was a heart. Rather, it was a pendant heart that was broken in two but could fit together. On the left half, it said ‘Big.’ On the right half, it said, ‘Little.’ On the obverse, the joined heart said, ‘Sisters Forever.’

I felt warm and loved. “One half is yours and the other is mine.” She took the box and lifted out the left pendant that said ‘Big’ and put it around her neck. Then she took out the right hand side that said ‘Little’ and put it on my neck. We hugged and shed a few tears.

“Thank you. Squeak, squeak!” I didn’t say anything to her about her secret, but Doug told me that she had likely donated about one hundred or more eggs already.

“I love you too!”

As we got out of the car and walked up, I said, “Jane?”

“Yes, Pipsqueak?”

“Is Tommy right? Do I really look beautiful?”

“Oh, Honey, you look gorgeous! And you have a cute smile that could melt an iceberg.”

“You mean it? I mean, when I look in the mirror, my lips are too big, my hair is all wrong, my ears are the wrong shape, my neck isn’t long enough, and I wish I could get bigger breast forms and have a little more curve to my hips and a smaller waist.” I stopped and looked at her like I was whipped before I even started.

“Oh Pipsqueak, you are such a girl!” Jane rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders all the while laughing. Then she got serious and said, “Trust me! You look stunning. You make Tommy look real good. Any thirteen year old boy worth his salt would kill to have you draped on his arm.”

I hugged Jane hard. “Thanks, Sis. I needed that.”

When we walked in the door, Dad was smirking at Jane. He came up and gave her a big hug, lifted her up, and twirled her around planting a big kiss on her cheek. Jane clearly liked it, but was baffled. As he reached down and gave me a hug and a kiss, Jane asked “What’s that for, Dad?”

Mom said, “Nothing, sweetie. Really, nothing.” We both could tell they were hiding something. Jane and I went in to prepare dinner. We made meatloaf, sorted green beans, and peeled potatoes. Grandma came in to help us and even she had a buoyant air about her towards Jane. We just looked at each other wondering what was up.

Saturday, we packed up and headed out to the park for a picnic and fireworks. Jane had been picked up by Doc Oliver (what he wants me to call him) sometime earlier. He had the day off since in his field, there were no emergencies at the hospital, ‘only patients aching to see me and only sore if I am not available’ as he put it. The evening was exciting. The sun set shortly after eight and the fireworks started about 8:45. The fireworks were spectacular and lasted about forty minutes.. I knew that Jane wasn’t far away from us in the park, so, it was no surprise that after all the fireworks were over, Dad had us tarry until she and her date showed up to say goodnight to the family and happy fourth. I figured they would be going out clubbing or something afterward, so it would be a brief get together.

I saw them walking hand in hand towards us. Jane was smiling but also crying. As she got closer, I could see why. On her left hand was a ring. Doc Oliver was beaming. Mom and Dad were giggling. As she got closer, Dad couldn’t wait any longer and asked forcefully, “Well, Honey?”

Jane gushed, “Oh Daddy, you know already. I said yes!” Mom, Grandma, and I shrieked with joy. Now I knew what Daddy hugged her like that. We stood there gazing at the ring and congratulating Jane while the men patted each other on the back. It was a magical way to end the fireworks. Instead of going straight home, we all went to the Olive Garden and had a late night snack. Mom even let me have a sip of champagne. The bubbles tickled my nose.

When we got home that night, Jane pulled me aside, “Okay, Pipsqueak. You and I need to get serious. Boy or Girl for the wedding in October?”

I looked down to hide my big smile, and said, “If you don’t mind, I would prefer girl.”

“I thought so. Bridesmaid or entertainment?”

I giggled, “Bridesmaid, please?”

“Okay, you will be the last one of the four bridesmaids. But, just so you know, I was hoping you would say bridesmaid.” I laughed.

“One other thing. Can you help teach Oliver how to dance? He says he has two left feet. Cute feet, but still two left feet.”

“Of course, anything for my favorite sister. Oh, Jane, there is one other thing you ought to know.”

“What is that, Pipsqueak?”

“Tommy and I are going to do a special Michael Jackson dance at Debbie’s wedding reception to surprise her. We want to do Smooth Criminal. Seems to me that it could be done at yours too in some fashion.”

“Oh, oh, I get what you are saying. Let me think about it. Maybe we can do something special too. Thanks for letting me know.”

Tommy called the next day with news. He had arranged for a group of friends to join us. They all wanted to dance the Michael Jackson way and loved the idea. They asked if they could do it at the beginning of school so they could get girls interested in them. Connie said yes.

“Now all we need is a choreographer, Tommy. But who?”

“How about Mrs. Duncan? We promised we would come over and video her latest class for doing an ad for her, didn’t we?”

“Perfect, she ought to be able to help us to block out the dance moves into sections so we can put together a good routine.”

Monday, we went over early to the school and saw Mrs. Duncan. We set up a schedule to video the current troop and she said she would have something for us by the first of the next week. Turns out that someone had given her a bootlegged a copy of a performance Jackson did in Germany because they were impressed with some of the stage techniques he used and wanted to share it with her.

Tuesday, we flew to Colorado Springs. Bill and Grandpa would take over duties for Agent Carlson who would fly out for a brief few days off with Debbie after our sting. Jane flew out with me because she wanted to see Robert too and tell him about Oliver. He would be coming down with Juliette to Castle Rock for a brief visit. We were in a neighborhood this time and the standard roles were in play. We would be doing two days and I was excited to talk to Debbie about her wedding.

On the drive up to Castle Rock, Tommy asked, “Why down at Shiloh? It makes no sense.”

Jane answered before I could, “Yes it does. Debbie’s Mom was killed by a drunk driver. Having it there means that they can bar any alcohol at the reception. Rather a clever way to get around her not wanting someone driving drunk after her wedding. People won’t ask questions if it is a Federal rule. Beats having to repeat to everyone the real reason. She wants the wedding to be a happy occasion and not a reminder of what she has lost.”

“Oh, I see what you mean. That does make sense. I am sorry to hear that she lost her Mom that way.”

“So am I. I am about the same age she lost hers. I can’t imagine life without our Mom, can you Pipsqueak?” I shook my head no. “Now, Tommy, what is the latest on the Michael Jackson dance you want to do?”

Tommy looked at me stunned. “You let our secret out?”

“Sorry.” I nuzzled his shoulder. “Forgive me?” I gave him a pouty face.

“Oh, well, the cat is out of the bag. I don’t think we could have hid it anyway.” Tommy was center stage now and I could see him beaming with pride. “Well, my football buddies from school have said yes on one condition, which, I need to talk to Samantha about?”

I looked at him and he squeezed my hand. Obviously, I melted. He knew I would say yes. “They want to do the routine in front of the school at the beginning of the year in the opening pep rally. It would mean that you would have to participate in another school’s pep rally.” Jane giggled at the news and looked at me with a wicked grin.

“Well, Pipsqueak, I guarantee you that no one will recognize you now. And when I get done with your make up, it will be even harder. I think it will be fun for you too.”

I hesitated for a moment and then exclaimed, “Oh, all right, I will do it!” Tommy leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. I blushed and smiled. “You enjoy teasing me, don’t you?”

He looked off to the mountains as if he was ignoring me. “Maybe?” he said with a wry smile.

I was impressed with Tommy once again. When we arrived at the house, he got out and opened my door, took our luggage, and followed me upstairs to our rooms. He is quite the gentleman at heart.

We quickly got our meal plan set up and began to have fun. There was pool time and time to visit with Robert and Juliette too who were coming over for dinner on the second night.

But, first up was time with Debbie. “You were right. My uncle knew where my mom’s wedding dress was. It turns out that Mom left it with my grandmother after the wedding. When she passed away last year, my uncle found it in the attic while cleaning out her place. He set it aside meaning to give it to me but forgot.”

“Awesome sauce. Did you try it on?” Jane inquired.

Debbie said, “Yes, it will need to be altered, but yes, it should fit.”

Tommy came up behind me and stood there watching us discuss the wedding. He put one hand on my shoulder and his other on the table and leaned in to watch what we were discussing. I reached up without even realizing it and patted him on the hand giving him a sweet smile. I looked back to Debbie and said, “Please, bring it to my place in Spring Valley. Have you decided what kind of bridesmaid dresses you want?”

Debbie pulled out a couple of pictures she found in magazines. “Think you can find patterns for these?”

I looked them over and said,“Yes, I am sure I can. How many bridesmaids and where do they live.”

“One lives with you, Jane.” Jane smiled and mouthed the words thank you to Debbie. “The other one is Mrs. Murphy. The third is my high school best friend in St. Louis who says she can come to you. And the forth is my Aunt Caroline who lives in Tampa, Florida. She also says she can come to you.”

“Fantastic.” I looked back up to Tommy and said. “I hope we aren’t boring you?”

“Oh no. I just didn’t realize that weddings were this much work.” He let out a heavy sigh.

I giggled and said, “Just remember that when you ask your dream girl to marry you.” Tommy sat down and scooted his chair next to me.

“Then I had better take notes. That way I can keep my dream girl!” Tommy looked into my eyes, puckered his lips, and air kissed me. I turned red and tried not to react. I could tell Jane and Debbie enjoyed his teasing me as much as he did. I felt warm and hopeful that I would have a wedding one day too with as much planning. I had a vision of myself in a white wedding dress being walked down the aisle by my Dad.

Looking back towards Debbie, who was looking over the photos of dresses, I had a thought. “Did you want me to make the same dress for Miranda? I assume she will be your flower girl, right?”

“Cool idea! I like it. I will think about it.”

For the next half an hour, we went over details of the wedding. I found myself taking notes with my right hand and soon was holding Tommy’s with my left. This was not lost on Debbie and Jane who would look at each other and wink whenever Tommy made a suggestion.

We got down to the discussion of colors. “I don’t know why I didn’t ask this first, but have you decided on the colors yet?”

“Well, I have found a rose out of Tyler, TX, I really like. It is a nice red. I was thinking of that for the bouquet and it would look good on the tables. I have a friend attending Le Tourneau nearby in Longview. He says he can drive a van to the wedding with all the flowers I need. But then I saw this grape colored dress and realized I could use different flowers.” She pulled out a page cut out of a catalog and it showed a grape colored dress that was gorgeous. “The grape color goes well with Gerbera and Zinnias which are blooming and inexpensive at that time of year. Plus, I fell in love with the color.”

“Oh, I like that. We could put the guys into a beige or baby blue seersucker suits since it will be hot in August.” I looked up at Tommy. “You saw a seersucker in the dance video we have been watching lately.”

Tommy’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “You mean that is what he was wearing?”

“Yes. It is a light fabric and perfect for summer weather. And for dancing.”

Debbie looked at us intently. Jane giggled. “What are you guys up to? Come on, out with it!” she asked in a playful tone.

“We thought it would be cool to do a dance to a certain Michael Jackson song at your reception.” Tommy said. I beamed. I was glad he said it and let the truth be know instead of me.

“Ummh, which song?” Debbie was intrigued.

I said, “Well, since it is an FBI wedding, Tommy and I have been talking about doing ‘Smooth Criminal.’”

Debbie began to laugh and slapped her knee. “Oh yes, that would be perfect. Do you think you can do it?”

“Yes. Tommy has made arrangements and we think we can do it. We ought to know by the end of middle of next week.”

Tommy took over at this point. I marveled at how he was able to arrange for all the guys to join him and how they already were training to dance. He related how they were using it as a team building exercise for the football team and how he talked to his coach about it too. His coach was on board and wanted them to do the dance routine in front of the school to demonstrate how teamwork translates to victory.

Every detail enthralled his audience. Jane, Debbie, and I sat there and patiently listened to him paint the picture of the upcoming dance. But, in the back of my mind, I began to understand I was yielding to Tommy taking the lead in our relationship. Up until now, I had been center stage of the stings. The go to girl who orchestrated all the happenings or to whom the orchestra played. And now, here was Tommy becoming the man of our relationship and I was slipping into his shadow. Tommy was the head and becoming the reason we were here now. I looked over at his mother walking by, she stopped and smiled to see him running the conversational table and winning all the loot with each roll of the dice. He was superb in his performance and chillingly cute in his execution.

Debbie got up and came over to me after he finished. She gave me a big hug. “Thank you both so much for thinking of this, Pips! You especially, Tommy! I think that dance number at the reception is going to be a winner.”

“So it is now Pips, is it?” Tommy chortled and teased me.

Jane interjected, “Hey, it is based on my nickname for her and I like it! Do you mind, Pips?”

I started to blush and was too embarrassed to respond right away, but I enjoyed the attention and just smiled ear to ear. Tommy teased me again. “Ahhh, Pips is blushing!”

“Oh stop it, M.J.!” Everyone laughed at my calling him by Michael Jackson’s initials.

We went to the kitchen and Tommy began to cook and I found that I only assisted. He surprised me and made a really good beef stroganoff without my instruction. From the cutting of the chuck to the making of the sauce, clearly, he had been doing some cooking at home that I didn’t know about.

“Pips, I need that bottle of white wine.” I handed it him. I stroked his back as he poured it into the pan.

“Looks and smells divine, Honey. You are a really good cook.” I said.

“Wouldn’t have learned to cook if it were for you, Pips. Thank you.” He gave me a hug.

At the dinner table, everyone complemented him on the meal that night. We made the salad together. I just held his hand and looked into the dreamy eyes of his and smiled as he got all the attention. We had a dessert that I made. It was crème brulee. I got complements for it too. But they didn’t seem to matter as much. There was something about being his partner that made it worth it to not get as many. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I think I was learning what it meant to be a couple. I had largely driven the relationship with Dean. But here, for the first time, I was sharing it with another human being. And, it wasn’t so bad to share the spotlight.

Later during the trip, I looked down the driveway to see Robert and Juliette walking hand in hand towards the front door. I couldn’t wait. I rushed downstairs and out the door and then jumped into Roberts waiting arms to give him a big hug. “Bonjour, mon frere!” I said. He picked me up and twirled me around. I gave him a big kiss on the cheek and he returned it.

When I was back on the ground, Juliette said, “I love your hairstyle. It is so grown up.” We gave each other a brief hug and several ‘bises’ a la mode French. She continued, “My, how you have grown since I last saw you. You are turning into a beautiful young lady.” Then she caught herself and I could tell that Robert had told her whom I really was underneath. Part of me hated her knowing that. Another part was relieved that I didn’t have to worry.

I whispered, “Ce n’est pas bien grave. I really enjoyed the complement. Merci.”

Juliette, Robert, Jane, Tommy, and I gathered together for lunch. Tommy seemed to take center stage again. Tommy looked at us. “So, Robert, you are learning French. Your girlfriend speaks French. Your grandfather speaks French. And Pips speaks French. So, I guess I should learn French too?”

“Yes, and who is Pips?” Robert asked. Jane and Tommy delighted in telling Robert about new nickname.

Then Tommy and Robert started talking football. Tommy was thrilled to learn that Robert was one of the best running backs at Lafayette High School. In addition, he was going into coaching and offered to give Tommy lessons on how to improve. When Mrs. Hinks heard about this, she asked if it would help him get a scholarship.

“A scholarship, yes. A future in the NFL, not likely. He would have better odds winning the lottery. But, being an academic powerhouse and a solid player on the field might get him a good scholarship and save you a ton of money.”

“Could you help Tommy?”

“You bet!” For the next hour, Robert sat down with Tommy about things he could do to improve his game. From strength training to specific exercises that would help his body perform better. I could tell Mrs. Hinks was thrilled will all the help he was getting. I motioned to Juliette and Jane. We went into the kitchen to chat. “Ca va avec vous deux?” I asked with anticipation in my voice?

“Oh yes, I love your brother. He really is a sweet boy at heart. Apparently, you have had something to do with that, Pips.”

“Really?” I couldn’t believe that.

“Yes, having his younger ‘sister’ tell him that he needs a real girlfriend was something he needed to hear. I really appreciate it. He has a good engineering mind which I understand. But, I won’t date another engineer. They get too, comment dit-on chauvin et fier?”

“Too chauvinistic and proud. Well, Robert is guilty of that still.”

“Yes, but it is with football, not at building a bridge or a building.”

“I understand. Did he tell you that our Dad is a civil engineer?”

“Yes, I am looking forward to meeting him.”

“Our Dad is looking forward to meeting you.”

“I have to tell you, I think Robert wants us to get married soon.”

“Really! Oh my! That would be awesome if you did.”

Juliette smiled and said, “Yes, it would be. I love him very much. I wanted to find out how your family will react?”

Jane hugged Juliette. “I will have a new sister then? Oh, I will love it. So will our Mom. Our Mom and Dad married when they were in college.”

“Jane, tell her your big news first!” Juliette looked at me and then at Jane.

“I am getting married in October to a wonderful man. We recently met. He is a kind and gentle man. And I fell for him right away.”

We all giggled. “Do you want a big wedding, Juliette.”

“Oh no. I want a small one. I don’t have many friends back home. My family is small too. I would like to come to your wedding Jane. May I?”

“Oh, of course you can! In fact, I was planning on having four bridesmaids, but you know, Oliver has a big family in Ohio and Tennessee plus a bunch of friends. He would prefer it if I have five so he can include more family. Would you mind being one of my bridesmaids?”

Poor Robert, while he was helping Tommy, his life was getting planned by three giggling gorgeous girls in the kitchen who had weddings to plan, including his wedding. And he hadn’t even asked her yet! I took her measurements before she left that day.

The trip to Colorado was an incredible success. We nabbed eighty men. Apparently, how we are presenting ourselves as a couple is working well. The videos they have taken of us playfully flirting with each other as bait have helped them stop more perverts than we had imagined.

On the flight back, I sat with Tommy again in a row by ourselves. “Whatcha reading?” Tommy asked.

“Anne of Green Gables.”

“Oh, girl stuff! I’m reading this new book series called ‘Harry Potter.’”

After a few minutes, our hands found each other again. We looked at each other and smiled. We went back to our reading.

As I read about Anne, I said, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” Tommy smirked.

“Thank you!” I sighed.

“Why?”

“I feel safe and protected.” I answered honestly.

“Thank you.” he sighed.

“Why?”

“I feel needed and respected.” Tommy answered honestly.

“I am sorry that I didn’t make you feel that way at the beginning and I didn’t trust you more.”

“You know, if you were a real girl, I would fall in love with you in a heartbeat.”

“That’s because you have a kind and gentle heart. You softy!”

“Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I promise.”

Jane drove us back home from the airport. We went straight to Tommy’s and went in with his Mom too. We were going to get together with Connie to discuss the dance for the wedding and see the notes from Mrs. Duncan. Since she wasn’t coming home for about an hour, Tommy suggested we go into their backyard where he would show me his tree house. I cautiously climbed up so no one would see my panties. I came in and sat down on the floor of the tree house with my legs to my side so I could keep my modesty.

Tommy was excited. “I used to play up here all the time. I had water balloon fights with my friends. We planned take overs of other tree forts. We had club meetings. Sadly, I have outgrown it. I am really to big to be in here anymore. I miss those days.”

I looked around. I realized that I had almost outgrown it too. “I didn’t play much when I was younger until Doug moved in across the street. I mostly was alone with no friends. I would sit in my room and read for my adventures.”

“Is that why you like being a girl now?”

I looked down and brushed a tear from my eye. I recounted, “Maybe. I used to think so last year when this all started. I was pretty lonely I thought at home. Truth is that I have never had so many friends in my whole life until this last year. Putting a dress on was the best thing that every happened to me in that respect. But, really, I like being home. I have always enjoyed being a homebody. Still, it is nice to have friends visit me at home. I would like that to continue.”

“Are you scared to take off the dress when the time comes?”

Even though I knew I was going to stay as I was, a girl, the idea of losing my girlhood frightened me to the bone when he mentioned it. Tears trickled down my face. Tommy scooted over and just held me in his arms. I didn’t need to say a word. He thought I was frightened of being alone. I wasn’t. I was scared to stop being my true self.

“Pips, when that time comes, I will still be your friend. Believe it or not, I saw how scared you were back in fourth grade. I have always known, I guess. I am sorry for not reaching out to you sooner.”

I pulled a kleenex from my purse and blew my nose. “Thank you, Tommy. That means a lot to me. I just thought I was invisible and no one cared.”

“So, do you mind my taking over like I am. I seem to be pushing my way into the center of things. It is part of my nature.”

“I am enjoying it. I like being a helper, not a leader. That is my nature.”

“As long as you don’t mind.”

“You are doing a good job of making me feel included.” I felt I needed to change the subject before I had to explain to him that I wanted to be his girlfriend for real. “Tell me, when did you stop coming up here?”

“I don’t know. About two years ago, my friends and I stopped using the place. Although, I come up every so often by myself and just sit when I want to be alone in my boy cave.”

“What do you think about?”

“Believe it or not, nothing. That seems to recharge my batteries.”

“I could never do that. My mind is always working. When ever I am not doing something, I think about a friend, a relationship, a project in school, what is going to happen to me when I grow, or any number of things.” I looked at Tommy and realized he was zoning out and not following me anymore. “Did you want to sit here and think?”

“Yeah, come to think or it – or rather not think of it, I would like some time in nothing space. Do you mind?”

“No, I will go back down and wait for Connie with my sister and your Mom. Come back when you are ready.” I kissed his cheek and climbed down the ladder.

Back home the next day, I finished measuring Tommy. This one I wanted to do first so I would get it out of the way remembering Dean’s reaction when I measured him last. I had five more guys from the Canterbury football squad to measure. I hadn’t see these guys in years. They didn’t even recognize me and since no one seemed to know where I lived all those years ago, they simply didn’t put two and two together. Mary and Tommy watched the triplets as I worked. Doug came in a little later. They were quite the handful now. It took a football team to watch them as they ambled about in our living room. Carol walked up to me and pulled at my dress. “Pips! Pick me up.” I was astonished at how fast people were picking up my new nickname. Even the triplets called me Pips now.

“Ah, honey, I have five more guys to measure.” She looked at me with her sweet pleading eyes. “Oh all right, Honey!” I picked her up and hugged her. “Pips loves you very much!” She giggled and threw her arms around my neck. I melted in her sweet embrace.

Carol looked then looked at me and said, “I love you Pips.” My heart melted, again.

Jerry Brauer, one of the five, looked at me, and stated with a wink, “I think you don’t need to get married. You already have quite a little collection of kids here.”

“Thanks, you just volunteered, Jerry. Here is the tape, you start measuring and I will tell you how.”

Tommy defended me, “She’s right Jerry. You walked into this one.” For the next half hour, I held Carol who had fallen asleep on me and directed Jerry and Josiah Clarkson to take measurements and write them down. Doug and Mary were now taking care of Alice and Brian. I could tell they were enjoying every moment of it too. It was sweet to see Doug sit on the floor playing with Alice and for Mary to be running around with Brian. They seemed to be relishing the time. Doug told me that while we were gone, they had used strollers and walked in the neighborhood with them to the little park down the street. Mom told me they looked like a happy married couple. Looking at them now, they still are happily married. The way they look at each other and help each other was touching and inspiring.

“You really like this chaos, don’t you?” Tommy declared. I just smiled.

After all the measurements were taken, we wandered out into the back yard where they boys started to break down the dance moves. Mrs. Duncan had blocked out repetitive dance moves by categories labeling them. There were nine basic moves that Jackson does in his videos. She was having them learn them first. From those, she had blocked out like a football playbook sub sections of the dance so they could learn each section. Then, they would be put together for the full dance. I was amazed that she knew how to translate a dance into a football playbook so they could learn it quicker.

The next day was my visit to Erin. Erin had me arrange one hundred pennies on the table where we were having tea.

“Okay, you have one hundred people in those pennies, right?”

“Right.”

“Move out three pennies from the group.” I did as she asked.

“Now, figure that represents the population of homosexuals and bi-sexuals statistically. Okay?” I nodded yes.

“How many pennies would we have to have on the table to yield three pennies representing transgenders?”

“I don’t know, Erin. How many?”

“Current estimates are one thousand in the United States to get three pennies. In England, they believe you would yield three pennies in three thousand. But, I think those statistics are still too high. What I am saying is that your condition is so rare that we don’t have enough data to help us help you cope beyond SRS surgery and HRT. However, when you have a population approaching two-hundred and seventy-five million, you will find a substantial group of transgenders. So, I expect there to be greater understanding of your condition over the next fifteen years.”

We discussed my evolving relationship with Tommy, the weddings, my new nickname, and how I was feeling about being a girl twenty-four seven. But, as I left her office, I got to thinking about the pennies. Regardless of the numbers, I wasn’t alone. I wondered if I should get to know other transgenders as I moved forward.

When I got home, Cat and Tommy were waiting for me. I quickly changed into my flapper outfit. Tommy looked cool in his seersucker zoot suit and tie. He loved the work I did on it and said the stitches were well done and the fit was quite comfortable. It gave him an air of being from the 30s. Dad drove us over to a mansion where we saw this beautiful red 1928 Packard Runabout on the the lawn. For the next couple of hours, Cat had us doing all sorts of poses around the car.

After it was all done, we sat down at a table under an umbrella and had iced sweet tea. Cat showed us the sketches he did. I was amazed at the lack of detail. He laughed and pointed out that the Art Deco style was minimalist nature.

Cat went off to do some sketches of the Packard leaving Tommy and I enjoying the shade under the umbrella.

“You looked real cute while he sketched us.”

“You looked very handsome.”

“Yes, but do I look handsome to the ladies.”

“Well, my sister and Mary say you are quite a catch. They think you are the ‘cat’s pajamas’ and have a ‘nice butt.’”

Tommy grinned. “Really?”

“Really!” I gave him a pat on the arm.

Tommy played with the straw in his drink. “What do you think?”

“That I am a very lucky girl to have you as a friend!” I answered coyly. Tommy turned almost as red as the Packard.

“So, are you going to teach me French?” He asked with a tone of sweet teasing.

“Oui!” I kissed him on the cheek. “C’est mon grand plasir!”

I think I am ready to rewrite my love sonnet now and have it be about love, not lust

Chapter 23 – Fleet of Foot

“You are underhanded, two timing, and a complete bald face liar. That is what you are. You have cheated us by not telling the truth when you know what we expect of you. Your deception borders on criminality and I intend to make an example of you! You owed us your best, and you didn’t give it to us!” Dad didn’t mince words when he was righteously angry.

“Well, Samantha. What do you have to say? Does any of this speak to you?” Mom asked.

I thought about it and could only say one thing. “That used car salesman is going to own you, isn’t he, Dad?”

Dad slumped back in his chair resigned to the fact I was right. Everyone at the dinning room table erupted in laughter. The time had come for the annual fleet purchase for the city vehicles and this year it was Dad’s turn to get the best deal for the community. It didn’t help that there was only one person who could sell fleet vehicles in the town and city regulations forced us to use him. So, Dad wasn’t looking forward to visiting the dealership and dealing with the infamous fleet manager. It also didn’t help that the fleet manager was also the head of the used car lot too at the local Chevy dealership.

To help out with my dad, I dressed up in my finest dress and dolled myself up to be as pretty as could be. I accompanied him to the dealership because it was ‘Daughter Go to Work with Dad Day’ in the city. I tagged along to see him in action. When the two of us entered Mr. Haney’s office at Hooterville Chevrolet, he was talking to a customer. He was thin, tall, and had nice fine ginger hair. In his thirties, he had the commanding air of a sixty year old statesman like Churchill. He was in a business suit with no tie and an open collar dress shirt revealing he wore an undershirt. He turned to go, coolly cocked his head back towards Mr. Haney, and said, as he carefully put on his dark glasses and then put his hands on his hips pushing back his jacket flaps, in a slow whisper and gravelly voice, “I want a Hummer at a good price, or there will be hell of a price to pay.”

“Right you are, Mr. Caine. I will get you the Horatio Hornblower special of Hummers!”

As he exited, Mr. Caine said, “I really don’t appreciate making fun of my name.” I could tell he was someone I wouldn’t want to mess with. He was not the type to buy swamp land in Florida.

I heard him mumble as he waved goodbye, “The other Caine was so much easier to work with. All he wanted was a sedan so he could throw spears at it.”

After a second, he realized we were there. “Mr. Miller, I am so glad to see you. Come in and sit down. Is this your lovely daughter? Why, I can see where she gets her good looks. Not you, my good man, but you must have a gorgeous wife. My, my! What a pretty young thing you are! Have a seat little darling.” I almost drowned in his saccharin hyperbole. “You have a seat too, Sir. The best in the house.” Mr. Haney sat down at his desk after we sat down.

The phone rang, “Yes, she is on the car lot. Blonde, blue eyed. Looking for a Malibu. Huh, what’s her name. Hang on. Here it is. Barbi. ” He hung up and turned to us and apologized, “Sorry, it has been a hectic day.”

The phone rang again, “No, the gentleman’s name is Michael. Yes. Umm, he is looking for a black Pontiac Trans Am. He is tall. About six two, black curly hair. Sure, he looks like that actor on Baywatch. David something. No, tell him that Bo Danville is looking to buy that Trans Am tomorrow. If he balks, tell him that I guarantee that Bo will make out like a bandit when we give him a case of Coor’s to go with his purchase. No, Really? You sure we can’t do that? Darn! Well, then offer him one of our special emergency night kit to go with the Trans Am. Either way, on the bright side, one of the two will get justice.” He hung up the phone and apologized again.

“Here, let me stop these interruptions.” He picked up the phone and spoke to the secretary. “No more calls please, Mrs. Douglas. I am in an important business meeting. I understand. Just transfer them to Mr. Drucker. I am sure he can handle them. Oh, and tell Uncle Joe he is fired. I am tired of his laziness.”

A silly thought hit me briefly that maybe when I grow up that I should own a Trans Am, because, well, I trans am.

Dad felt better that we had Mr. Haney’s full attention now so we could discuss the needs of our growing city. But, I could tell he was nervous because he had heard that Mr. Haney was notorious for screwing the city in transactions. They were the only local dealership that could handle our business, and city regs said unless there was a cause to believe they were being fraudulent, we had to do business with them even if there were better options elsewhere.

“Mr. Haney, can I go to the lady’s room please. I will be right back, Dad.” I got up and went out the door. While Mr. Haney was busy pulling the wool over my Dad’s eyes, I went the other way down the hall way. I suspected something. Sure enough, I was right. In a darkened room adjacent to Mr. Haney’s office were two people watching through a one way mirror what was going on in Mr. Haney’s office looking at a computer screen. They spoke to him through a mike, so he must have some sort of ear piece. What they didn’t know is that I had a micro-recorder in my purse. I was going to use it to record open lectures at the university mini courses during the summer. Most of the material was over my head. So, Debbie gave it to me saying that it helped her at university, it might help me. I stealthily placed it in the room to record what was being said and headed back to Mr. Haney’s office.

“All right, this is the list of what the city needs. Vans, cars, and other sundry vehicles.” Mr. Haney picked it up and started to read off what was on the list. Dad handed me a copy so I could keep up with it.

Then, item by item, he said what price they could sell him the vehicle. Dad, I could tell, was impressed with his immediate knowledge of each vehicle. He wrote down the prices of each. Before he got to the last vehicle, I said, “Oh, I left my lipstick in the powder room. I will be right back, Daddy.” I expected Dad to start negotiating with him shortly and I had to get the recorder before they found it.

I ducked back down the hallway, reached in and grabbed it. I then went to the lady’s bathroom, found a stall, set the recorder to play back at double speed, put in earphones, and played what was said in the dark room by the men standing there. I noted down the prices they really could get the vehicles at and then wrote it out in French next to the vehicle on the sheet Dad handed me. After about ten minutes, I left the bathroom and headed back to Mr. Haney’s office. I passed the men who had been in the dark room in the hallway walking back to their offices. The room they were in was now empty.

I went back in and listened to Dad dicker and bemoan the prices as he went through each vehicle. “Dad,” I said, “can I have another copy of the list?” He handed me another and I put it on an empty clipboard that Mr. Haney had on the table. I carefully wrote out a price by each vehicle that had a three percent markup for each vehicle unit’s price.

“Mr. Haney?”

“Yes, sweetie? I hope this isn’t too much for a little girl such as yourself. Must seem boring to you to hear men talk business.”

“You know, my Mom is quite a good shopper and so is my sister Jane. I have really learned a lot from them. So, here is what I think you should sell us the vehicles for.” I handed him the clipboard with the sheet of paper and the prices.

“Now, you precious sweet thang, I am sure you think you are helping your Daddy, but I would be losing money on all these vehicles if I were to sell them to you for these amounts. You just don’t know the car business, honey child.”

“Really?! I learned the car business hearing what was coming out of the room next door when I went to the lady’s room. So, I recorded it!” I held up the micro-recorder. “Dad, did you know that mirror there is a one way mirror and Mr. Haney is wearing an ear piece? They looked up prices while he read off the list and gave a him huge markup to each of around ten to twenty per cent. There is a three percent markup on all the vehicles on the list I handed you. That is a good commission for you, Mr. Haney. Take it or leave it. See, I am a quick study. I learned it from my Daddy.” I sat back and gave him a coy smile. My Dad’s jaw dropped. But, he was quick to react and realize the huge advantage I had just given him.

Dad leaned forward in his chair after reaching into his briefcase. “Here is the purchase order. You write up the vehicles on it at the price Samantha put there and I will sign it on behalf of the city. And maybe we will forget your indiscretion.”

Mr. Haney hesitated. Dad pounced and said, “Or, I can take what Samantha recorded back to the accounting manager who handed this off to me and tell her how you fraudulently do business which will let her give me an official waiver so I can head out of town to find a real dealer who won’t cheat us. Which is it?” I could see that Daddy was real happy as Mr. Haney agreed to the prices.

I held my Daddy’s hand as we walked out of Mr. Haney’s office. “Nicely done, Princess! We make a good team. I love you.”

“I enjoy being on your team. I love you too, Daddy!” We walked out of the dealership with the best deal for the city they had in years. As Daddy opened the car door for me, I noticed Mr. Caine was looking at a Mercedes. I hoped that if he bought it, the car deal wouldn’t blow up in his face.

At my home, in an unusual house call for doctors, Erin introduced me to John, Tommy’s counselor. John introduced Tommy to Erin. We were having a joint session to discuss our partnership, to go over concerns, and make sure that we were clear on the nature of our craft had on the success of the enterprise of catching pedophiles.

John spoke with exuberance, “I have seen the videos of you both and I can only say that you both have exceptional presence. I know they won’t show them to you yet because of they have edited them to be, for lack of a better terms, seductive, salacious, and sexy. Plus, they did it to show that you were filmed without your knowing, so the angles are, how shall I say, not normal. I guess what I am saying is that you make a good team.”

“Thank you, John. Are you the one that encouraged us to act more like a team after hearing what Tommy’s coach said?” I asked. “Because I think it has really helped our partnership.”

“Yes. Tommy told me about it and I said that it wouldn’t hurt your performance for you two to date and learn to be more comfortable playing your roles. I think he was reluctant at first.”

Tommy smiled and patted me on the arm. I took his hand and looked at him. “I am grateful you said yes and are a fast learner. Thank you.”

John asked me, “What are you doing this summer other than helping out with weddings and stings?”

“I am learning J. S. Bach’s fugues in his Well Tempered Caviler Books One and Two.”

“Can you show me, Pips?” he asked. I got up and went to our piano.

“It is about a three or four minute piece and one of my favorite pieces of Bach. I had trouble with the fingering in the beginning because of the prelude’s toccata, but I finally got it down.” I played his Prelude and Fugue Number 2 from Book One in C Minor. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0nZjkh-U7I] They applauded as I finished. I turned around and bowed in my seat.

Erin asked Tommy, “What about you Tommy, other than the Michael Jackson dances, your dates with Pips, and the stings, what are you doing this summer?”

“Well, I have been learning to cook at home. I am starting a class in French that Pips told me about called ‘French in Action.’ My Mom is thrilled because I have been cleaning my room per Pips suggestion. I have never gotten along better with my sister Connie and my Mom since I became Pips partner. I am doing strength training and conditioning that Robert, Pips’ brother recommended for the football field, and I am reading all the books on my 8th grade English classes list so I can maintain a high GPA in the fall during football.” He winked at me, “But most of all, Pips has really improved my life by showing how to grow with grace and integrity.”

“Were you not getting along with your mom and sibling before?” Erin asked.

“Oh, I was. But, I think it was like I was taking them for granted. Not that exactly, I didn’t have the vocabulary to talk to them like I wanted. I felt like we were growing apart and I had resigned myself to it. Once I saw how Pips interacted with her sister and mother, I began to realize that she had something I lacked.”

“So, you feel Pips has made you a better boy?”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it that way. By Pips not being afraid of showing her softer side, she showed me how to be much stronger and more tender at the same time as a man. If that makes any sense?”

“It makes perfect sense.” I looked down the hallway at that moment. I could see the shadow of my mother against the floor. I knew she was listening in to what we were talking about. I thought to myself, that she shouldn’t be doing this, but I am glad she overheard what Tommy said.

I took the opportunity to expand on it knowing she was there, “I know that is one of the things I am getting out of this experience that is really opening my eyes. I am learning why my parents’ marriage is so strong. I never knew the hard work they put into making it work and the character my Mom and Dad have to make it work. They have become my heroes. Being Samantha is a worthwhile reward, not a punishment.” I spoke the truth and from the heart. But, I also knew that in expressing it, they would relax more about me being Pips until I went to Canada.

Once our session was over, Tommy and I went to work on part of the dance routine.

Later that night, Mom was brushing out my hair. “I love this new hair style on you.”

“Thanks Mom. It was so much fun to go out with Jane and get it with her. I am glad I had a chance to be closer to her before she gets married. Because, once she does, I won’t see her much. I mean, look at you and Uncle Robert.”

“You know, I hadn’t thought of that. But, it is true. If you hadn’t been Samantha, you two might still be warring and would never have grown as close. And, come to think of it, the same is true of your brother. I have never see you two so close.”

She finished up. I began to brush her hair too. “Samantha is teaching me so much. I know it will end soon, but, I don’t want to miss a minute of what she has to teach me.”

“I heard you playing the piano today while I was working in the kitchen. It was beautiful. You really are an unusual girl. Most girls your age would be wanting to hear the latest band. But you like classical music, so why do you still hang on to it even though you have been making friends now and they listen to their favorite rock and roll bands?”

I stopped, thought about it, and began to brush her hair again. “Because it is so profound and beautiful. In that day, they didn’t have a record player or MTV. They only had that brief moment on an instrument that was in front of them while music was coming out of it to enjoy it. They didn’t waste the moment they had been given. They revealed in it with a passion and respect that an FM radio or record player doesn’t give us.”

“Like the moments you have been given to be a girl named Samantha?”

“Yeah, like the moments I have been given to be her. They are precious and I will forever be grateful for them.”

“I am glad to hear that. I want to make sure you haven’t been robbed of something you were supposed to have experienced as a boy.”

I let out of sigh, “Ahh, Mom, here, let me play something you might recognize that expresses why this time matters for me. This was one of the songs Debbie was considering, but realized it didn’t go with their wedding. Still, it really touched me.” I reached over and picked up my guitar and began to play the Joni Mitchell song, “Both Sides Now.” Mom knew the song and, to my wonderful surprise, began to sing with me. We enjoyed a nice duet. As we finished, Dad was standing in the door. He clapped and said, “You two sing nicely together.”

Jane came up next to him and said, “Dad’s right, you two do sing nicely together. Maybe you could sing that at my wedding.”

Mom relaxed and considered what was said. “Maybe we should. I like singing with you too. Also, I see what you mean. You are looking at love from both sides now.”

We hugged and called it a night. But, as I went to sleep, it hit me that my relationships were changing. Unlike Mitchell’s song, where relationships fell apart, mine were growing closer and richer.

Tommy turned on his skates, threw me, and I landed a triple axel perfectly. He was handsome in the outfit I had made for him and I was simply gorgeous in mine. I was impressed with my cleavage having real breasts and felt nothing between my legs for the first time. Catching up to me, we did twizzles and then proceeded to do lifts, flips, and sit spins. We looked perfectly matched as skaters. We finished with a death spiral. I could hear the crowd erupt in thunderous applause. I reached up to kiss him. In the process, our mouths found each other and I was about to explore his mouth when I woke up.

Realizing it was dream, I looked over at my clock to check the time. Darn, I thought, why did I have to wake up at the best part. I sat up. It was six in the morning, my usual time for getting up, even in summer. I went over to my keyboard, put on my headphones, and began to do warm ups. I finished the morning by practicing a new fugue. After I finished, I took a shower, cleaned my room, cleaned the bathroom, and started doing laundry. I was making breakfast when the doorbell rang. I went to answer and got the most wonderful surprise. It was Mr. Murphy and Miranda.

“Please, come in. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, we were headed down to Shiloh when the check engine light came on. Can we use you phone? And yes, we would love to have breakfast if that isn’t too much trouble.”

I directed Mr. Murphy to the phone in the kitchen and had Miranda come and help me. I decided to cook them Denver omelettes, hash browns, toast, coffee, and milk. I went to work quickly and had breakfast made for them and the family that was just getting up. Dad had gotten the day off for blitzing Mr. Haney.

I was plating and serving as fast as I could. In truth, it was fun and I was loving it. When I was done, I came to the table and they were all having a great gab fest. Mom and Mr. Murphy were discussing things they could do during the summer and what he could do about her schooling. Pre-K or no Pre-K for a five year old. Should she go instead into kindergarten or not. Grandpa and Grandma arrived and joined in on the discussion.

I could tell Miranda was feeling left out. “You want to play with my dolls?”

“I didn’t think you had dolls.”

“I got some because of Alice and Carol. Let’s go play in the living room.”

She hugged me and was ready to run off with me, when she looked at me. “Don’t you want breakfast?”

“I can get it later. I want to play with my little sister.” She looked up at me and smiled a great big grin.

I don’t know how long it would before they finished. They were having a grand time in the kitchen getting the car situation fixed and getting caught up. Miranda and I were having a great time too. I had a P. J. Sparkles doll and let Miranda have a Magic Nursery doll to play with. We were having to take care of them, feed them, change them, and put them to bed. We were having such a good time. I liked it because it gave me a chance to be the little girl I never was.

A knock came at the door. Mrs. Smith asked if I could watch the triplets for a couple of hours while she had a plumber replace their hot water heater. I said yes.

Mom wandered in to check on us and smiled at seeing her. She invited her in. At first she said she needed to get back, but then she realized that she told the plumber she would be next door if he needed her.

Then the doorbell rang and it was Chris from internal affairs. He commented that if he knew about all this, he would have brought Sarah. He was there to talk to Dad about our experience with the dealership. Apparently, the dealer may have broken a few laws. Dad was turning into quite the hero back at City Hall.

Bill stopped by with Arlene who had asked if she could see me today. Arlene joined the triplets, Miranda, and me in the living room while Bill went into the kitchen to join the adults. The house was a zoo.

Arlene enjoyed playing with the dolls too. I had more than enough from my sister’s collection and some Mom bought a few weeks ago. We were all having a grand time, except for Brian. He was off in a corner playing with his truck. Carol was with me and Arlene took care of Alice. Miranda was enjoying all the girls being together. “I don’t get to play with other children much.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Are there no children around you to play with?” Arlene asked.

I explained that because they are here temporarily, Miranda’s can’t see her normal friends for a while.

“I understand Miranda, I haven’t been able to see my friends for months. That is why I wanted to see Samantha. I just wanted to talk to someone my own age or close to it. This is a lot of fun.”

“Maybe we can arrange this to happen more often, would you mind Samantha?” I turned around there was Grandma smiling at me.

“Yeah, Grandma.” I nuzzled Carol who giggled. “I think they need girl time. And I really don’t mind. In fact, I think I like it.”

“Okay, Samantha. I think it is very nice of you to do this. Let me talk to your Mom and the others about it.”

Later, Mom came into the living room, “All right Miranda and Arlene, I just wanted you to know that I just arranged for you to have play dates here on a regular basis. I hope you don’t mind.” They both came up and hugged her.

“Oh, thank you Samantha’s Mom! She is the best girlfriend in the whole world.” Arlene said hugging her again.

“Yeah, and a cool big sister too!” said Miranda.

“And not a bad little sister either!” I turned around and Jane was beaming at me. She came in and joined us.

So, between the weddings, the dances, the dating, the stings, and the play dates, our house was going to be a little chaotic for the foreseeable future.

Agent Carlson came to the rescue and got their rental car changed. Soon, the morning was down to just the triplets. I was being helped by Jane, but eventually she wandered off with Grandma. The triplets were napping and I was holding Carol, my favorite toy. I ambled on quiet feet into the kitchen to get something to eat so as not to wake her. The door to the backyard was slightly ajar and I overheard something magical.

“How many eggs have you harvested, Honey?”

“One hundred and fourteen. The doctor says that one more visit, I should have ample eggs set aside for me and Pips.”

“Good. I don’t know what the future will bring, but if she really is a girl, she shall have her own family. I am determined of that. Now remember, you aren’t to tell your Mom, your Dad, or Grandpa. They won’t understand. And especially Pips who may not even know herself yet that she is a girl. While they may not understand, it is just intuition on my part about Pips. Just say that I wanted an insurance policy for you if anyone asks about where the money came from and whom it is for.”

I quietly scurried out of the kitchen and back into the living room. My stomach wasn’t so important anymore. I sat in a chair and let Carol sleep on my shoulder. I felt warm and fuzzy. I wanted to cry , but couldn’t. I knew that my future was guaranteed. And now by whom.

Grandma came in the room on her way out. “Oh, Honey, you look like you are enjoying this.”

“I am Grandma. I never knew how much joy children could bring. Now I know why adults have them.”

She put hand on my free shoulder, “You will make a wonderful parent one day, I just know it.” I noticed the gender neutral way she put it.

“Thanks Grandma. I love you and thank you so much for moving here. I never knew how much I needed you in my life. I appreciate you so very much.”

She sighed and gave me the sweetest smile. “Thank you for saying that. But, Honey, I wouldn’t have missed being in your life for the world.”

Tommy and I gathered with the others at Canterbury before the Shakespeare class. Mrs. Duncan came in and gave us our play book. She walked us through the dance moves until the end. She commented, “The only thing you can’t do is the lean. In the original video, he used wires, but now, he has a special shoe that hooks into a nail and they can do the same lean. I wish I could get it for you.”

After the session was over, Tommy grabbed the video camera and we went over the basics with me on how to use it. I enjoyed being instructed by him. There were two video cameras and Mrs. Duncan told us, “Think in your minds eye that you are telling a story as you shoot each shot. The biggest mistake you will make is not to stay on the subject. So, be on them for at least ten to twenty seconds. I was told when I was learning that if I narrate the shot and use lots of words in my mind, I will get a good shot for editing.”

I inquired, “Mrs. Duncan, can we use this afterwords to make a video of our Michael Jackson dance?”

“I don’t see why not, Jackie. I think that would be an excellent idea. That way you all can see where you want to improve.” Tommy listened to that with raptured attention. As we began to film the days events, he said to me, “Video has been used to improve football too. Video is really changing sports. Do you think you can video the games for me and send the tapes to your brother. I would like his input on my game.”

“Maybe. Talk to me after we finish this project. I will have a better idea of how I would like it. But, I would love to do it for you.”

Tommy and I were introduced to the new class as alumni who would be making a video. Connie was introduced as a high school student who was helping them out by taking notes of what was filmed. And, finally, I was also pointed out as the one who made their costumes and altered them for them. They were going to a summer day camp we hadn’t been to last year. I was grateful because I didn’t want to be recognized. No one was playing the boy/girl this year. Instead, one of the boys turned out to be a girl which was used for effect. There were a few students from Danvers in the group who recognized me. One in particular was in Mrs. Duncan’s acting class with me. Jim Allen was his name. He came up to me. “Hi Jackie! I wondered why you got an A in the class and never had to act.”

“Yes, I volunteered last summer to work with the troop and since she couldn’t give me a grade for it, she gave me a pass in acting class. I still had to do the homework and everything else though.”

“Yeah, I have done a lot of acting in her summer class without credit. So, she gave me a pass on it this last year.”

Tommy could see what was about to happen, so he chimed in, “Look Pips, we have to video everyone. We are burning daylight.” I picked up my video camera and began filming everything we could for the next several hours. Having done the scenes before ourselves, Tommy and I knew the best angles to shoot the scenes. I observed Carla dressed as a boy in a scene. Carla was in my math class and a pretty decent girl, but a little on the tomboy side.

Carla came up to me at the end of the day, “It is nice to see you again, Jackie.”

I nodded and smiled. “It is good to see you too, Carla. You did a great job out there. You make a convincing boy. And your reveal was handled nicely too.”

“Thank you. I thought you would understand. Even though you are a girly girl, I know you tried to be more boy like for a while there and then went back to what you do best, being a girl at the end of the school year.” I couldn’t help by smile. If she only knew.

Tommy had been listening to us and came up behind me and put his arms around me. “Yeah, I love my girly girl!” I kissed my finger and leaned back to put it on his lips. He blushed.

“So, you two are a couple? And you go to Canterbury. I smell turncoat.” Carla giggled and waved her finger at me. “But, he is cute, so I think I can forgive you.” She gave me that girl to girl look that let me know that she understood. Tommy chuckled and clearly enjoyed the complement.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “I am expected to be at all his games and support him. I will, but I know nothing about football, poor guy. I think all I will be watching that cute butt of his in his uniform run around the field more than the game.”

“Girls!” Tommy shook his head. I gave him an evil stare and scrunched my nose. Tommy threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I meant to say Ladies!”

Carla and I laughed. “Much better. You’re forgiven!” I said and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Connie intervened, “Come on you two lovebirds, we have some work to do.”

Back at home, Connie and I worked on altering the flapper costumes we ordered. She marveled at my sewing skills. “Carla is right, you are a girly girl. Why?”

“My sister and mother think that after all this is over, it will be hard for people to recognize me if they don’t see the boy in me.”

“Oh, yes, you have told me that before. But, I have to admit, I don’t see any boy in you. And, your body is still too girly to even be considered a boy. You have smooth skin, no muscles, you dress well, your make up is impeccable, and your hair is elegant and pretty.”

“Thank you. That is very sweet of you to say. I suppose a boy will one day emerge. But, at least no one is calling me a sissy or worse like they had been. And, to be frank, avoiding that misery is a heavenly reward for being Samantha instead.”

“Do you get any kinky kicks from wearing the clothes? I heard that some guys get off on it.”

“No, I enjoy wearing them. But, there is no sexual pleasure I get in wearing a dress. It may sound strange, what I enjoy is feeling pretty and dressing nicely. It makes me feel good.”

“Just like any girl does, I suppose.” Connie said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I guess so. Why should you all have the fun.”

Connie giggled. “Yeah, I see your point.”

We finished up and she went in to put on her red flapper outfit. I then went in to put on my green flapper outfit. The neck line of both was purposely high, yet both showed a lot of shoulder with the sleeveless look. The alterations I made were perfect. Each one had lots of tassels which moved with the dresses and gave them a flirty look. The high neck line had two purposes. One, it hid my breast forms. Two, it would pass muster with the school. They didn’t want us to have cleavage when we performed in front of the school.

Jane came in and we tried out several different looks for the makeup and the hair bands. We finally settled on a head band with a peacock feather and make up that was loud, but not sexy. Our next task was to find high heels that went with them, so Jane took us to the mall and we went shoe shopping in our flapper outfits. The video showed from Munich showed the women with what looked like six inch heels to make them look sexy. We went for four inch spiked heels because we needed to be shorter than the guys and needed to be less sexy. While they were tall at five-nine and five-ten, it looked better if we were two or more inches shorter than them. We knew they were going to be wearing inch and a half shoes. Connie was five-five making her five-foot-nine and I was five-two, making me five-six in the shoes. The shoes could withstand dance, so they were a basic beige with a not so narrow closed toe.

Dancing in these shoes would take practice, but I had arranged to use my ballroom dance instructor for helping us do the routines with the boys. My favorite part was going to be the brief dance with Tommy where where we did a tango style dance. In that respect, the dance instructor had decided to teach us a full tango so he would have the benefit of being able to do it with me later during the reception and not just the few steps in the Smooth Criminal dance routine.

Having accomplished our tasks, we sat in the food court. Sure enough, Beavis and Butthead, I mean Brent and Olson came walking by. I was surprised when Connie spoke up, “Hey Guys, how are the nine-year-olds? Feeling lucky today?” They hissed as they walked by. Tommy must have told her about them and what I said.

“What was that all about?” asked Jane, who obviously would be clueless.

“Pest control.” I answered. Connie lost it. I went on to explain who they were to Jane and how I was introduced to them.

“Damn, that is a good one, Pips. You have a cute little mean streak in you. Trolling for nine-year-olds indeed.” I blushed.

We dropped off Connie. She and I hugged like good friends. I could tell that she was warming to me and genuinely liked me. Tommy came out briefly and I hugged and kissed him. Connie told him what I said at the mall. Tommy loved it too. “See you tomorrow, Pips. Love ya.”

“Love ya too.” I looked back at him and smiled. We both blushed. I skipped off with Jane to go back home.

Doug and I had a little conversation about everything that was going on later that night while sitting on his porch. “So, your grandmother suspects. Enough so that she paid for the eggs to be frozen. Amazing. I wondered how Jane could afford it. It costs about nine thousand dollars to do what she is doing. Say nothing to them. Let them believe you are clueless. I just know that when you leave, they will start working on your parents. But, most of all, this is working to a successful conclusion. Just relax, enjoy it, hang in there, and trust. Don’t ever push, or it could fall down on you.”

“Thanks, Bro! Night.” I gave him a hug and sisterly kiss good night.

I thought about it walking back across the street. I had become so comfortable acting like and being a girl, I didn’t even think about what I was doing anymore. I didn’t even question it when I gave a hug or kiss to someone. It just came automatically now. I looked in the mirror as brushed my teeth that night. I didn’t see Samuel anymore. All I saw was a happy girl.

Debbie flew in to see Carlson and spend time with me too. She brought her Mom’s wedding dress. Mom, Jane, Grandma, and I got her in front of the mirror and spent time deciding where to take it in and where to change it. Soon, I had it all pinned up. While they went into the kitchen, I went to work on sewing. Mary came in with Doug and they watched me work. Mary leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “Can’t wait to see you work on your own wedding dress!”

I looked back and said in a hushed tone, “You really think it will happen?”

“Oh yeah! You’re too beautiful to not get caught.” I grinned.

About twenty minutes later, I called Debbie in and she went in to change. The dress looked perfect and everyone was happy. We then broke out the patterns for the bridesmaid’s outfits. As we talked, that is when the rest of the story came out. Debbie’s Dad didn’t have a whole lot of money and she was doing everything she could to keep the cost down for him.

“You know, I am a pretty good cook too. We hadn’t gone over your menu, but, I know that I could do some really good food that is perfect for the time of day of your wedding. How many guests are coming?”

“We think it will be about two hundred.”

At that moment, Tommy and Connie arrived with their Mom. They were there to practice with me. “Tommy, do you think we can do some cooking for the wedding too?”

Grandpa came around the corner. “The church there has cooking facilities. And they have a walk in freezer. We could do some prep here, take it down there and just heat and serve.”

“Great idea Mr. Miller. Pips, you remember that Shepherd's pie you made for Agent Iris?”

“That is a really good idea, Tommy! How about that Debbie?”

For the next half an hour, Debbie, Tommy’s Mom, Connie, Tommy, and I sat down to talk turkey, beef, and chicken. Turns out that Tommy’s Mom once worked for a catering company as a receptionist during her college years. She knew some tricks for transporting the food and where to get supplies to package them. By the end of the evening, we had a plan. Even one for the wedding cake.

Grandma and Mom came in at the end and heard all that was happening. Mom looked at me and smiled. “Just so you know, you have three cooks now. I can handle the wedding cake too as well as supervise the cooking. I can call in a few favors from friends too.”

“Make that four. I want to help too. I enjoy working with Pips.” Grandma hugged me.

Debbie stopped for a moment and got a little teary eyed, “I really don’t want to be a burden guys. What you are doing is really nice. I want you to know that you don’t have to do it. This isn’t your wedding.”

I went up and hugged her, “Debbie, this is my heart talking. I want to do it. You have been as much of a sister to me as Jane. If you say no, my heart will break. Seeing you have a happy wedding day is the most beautiful painting I will ever see.” I began to cry. Mom, Grandma, and Connie joined me in the hug and cried too.

“Oh, hell Mom, they made me do it too!” Tommy joined the hug. Finally, so did Mrs. Hinks. Poor Debbie, took her two hours to stop smiling and crying. I stopped about half an hour later.

Grandma talked to me afterwards. “I love that you are helping her. It really is very kind of you.”

“Yeah, but in a weird sort of way, it is like I am having my own wedding without having to be in it.”

She smiled and hugged me. “I know what you mean.”

A knock came at the door shortly before we all were going to call it a day. Cat stood there with a couple of cardboard tubes and a big grin on his face. “Cheer up guys. You all look like you have been crying.”

Tommy patted him on the back, “Women, I will never understand them.”

“Tell the truth, Tommy, you were crying too.” Cat teased back.

“Yeah, I guess I was. Whatcha got there?”

“I hope, an amazing poster you all will like.”

“Now, before I show you them, the goal was to do a poster as though it were for a real event or business. I had a sample poster my instructor gave me for the Concours D’Elegance held in Pebble Beach. I used it for inspiration. They have trade marked the name, so I changed it to the ‘Tour De Vallée De Printemps, 1998.’”

Cat rolled out the poster. It showed Tommy holding a Tommy gun up with one hand and the other on my shoulder. He had his foot on the running board of the Runabout and looked fantastic in his zoot suit. I was adorable in my flapper dress. The Packard was in a driveway to an elegant mansion with a butler waiting at the door to open it for us.

Cat discussed costs and we ordered about five of them. Tommy ordered four. We all praised Cat on his skill. Tommy and I even agreed to do future modeling for him.

In the end, all agreed, Cat had outdone himself again. He took a much deserved bow and we applauded him.

Cat and I took Tommy over to show him the painting of me in the French impressionistic style. I could tell he was smitten by its beauty. “That is beautiful Cat! You are so talented.” But, what I noticed most is how Tommy was looking at the girl in the painting. It was dreamy. He had a smile on his face as he studied her and the scene. The painting touched his heart, I could tell.

Cat said, as we looked at the painting, “It helps when I have great models. I have to thank you both for being so patient and letting me sketch you. I know it must have been boring.”

Tommy laughed. “Are you kidding. I enjoyed the whole time. And getting to appear in a poster with a beautiful girl, well, that is the icing on the cake.” I blushed.

I dressed up extra nice and spent two hours getting ready for my next date with Tommy. He deserved my best. I went with a dress Mrs. Smith helped me buy online. It had a rich burgundy sweater top with a simple pleated plaid skirt. I also put on stockings. It was a sophisticated outfit. It went with my silver bracelets and black pumps. I brushed out my hair and began to notice the color changes near my roots. I was going to have to go in and have my highlights updated. But, I still looked good. I put on a rich red lipstick to go with my more mature look. I tweezed my eyebrows and worked on them. I did my nails and toenails. Then, at the last moment, I applied mascara to give my eyes a boost. On our date, we were going to see Parent Trap. When I got downstairs, Mom’s eyes bugged out at me. “Wow! You really are putting on the nines. Don’t you think that is a little much?”

Grandma piped up, “Let her. She has to make Tommy look good, Pamela. It isn’t fair to him if she does a mediocre job, is it? What is he going to learn if she shows up looking like a wet dish rag.”

“Thanks Grandma, that is why I did it. I think I should look my best for him. I feel he warrants my best.” Mom reluctantly nodded. I was grateful Grandma was there. I had the feeling Mom was about to send me back upstairs to dress down.

“You have to, Honey. Your Mom would have done the same just like any other girl.” She came up and hugged me giving Mom a look as if to say she was right. “If he is going to build a reputation, he needs you to be all girl too today.” Grandma said sympathetically. “And, frankly, I think you are learning how hard we women work to make men happy. But, I warn you, he may not even notice. Men are like that. Pity he won’t know how really sweet you look. And, I like that you didn’t dress sexy. That would have sent the wrong message.”

“I really can’t Grandma, since I technically don’t have real boobs.”

Mom relented. “That’s right, you aren’t dressing sexy, just sophisticated. Which really isn’t so bad. And Tommy is taking quite a risk dating you, isn’t he?”

Tommy’s jaw dropped when he and his Mom picked me up. “Wow! Pips, you really didn’t have to go all out, you know. It is just a movie. You could have gone in jeans. Now I feel grungy.”

I demurely responded, “That’s okay. I like looking pretty when I am with you. You don’t have to dress up for me. But you deserve my best too because you are doing your best for me in protecting me. And, I am not talking about how you dress.”

As he opened the door for me, I gave him a peck on the cheek. I then pretended to realize I left a little lipstick. I took out a kleenex out of my purse and cleaned his cheek. I giggled and said, “Guess, I am going to have to watch that.” I pretended to be embarrassed that I made the mistake, but secretly, I knew all along it was going to happen and wanted it to happen. He was blushing as I smoothed my skirt and sat in the car. He closed my car door and came around to the other side to join me.

We went to the food court. Tommy pulled my chair out and I smoothed my skirt and sat down. He politely took my order and went to get our meals. After about ten minutes, he returned with our meals. I had a small chef’s salad and iced tea. Tommy had a nice hamburger and fries with a coke.

“How do you think our dancing is coming?” Tommy inquired.

“It is beginning to look real good. Connie and I need to do our part, but you guys are really good. You have the routine down and watching you practice is a real joy. Oh, before I forget, Debbie told me that she may have access to the special shoes so you guys can do the lean. But, don’t count on it. It is being worked on.”

“Thank you, they are good team players. I think we will do well this football season. And, I must say, the training your brother gave me is really improving my game. I can’t thank him enough.”

“Robert is a good teacher. I am really glad you two met. I will be sure to let him know. And yes, I can video tape you during the game and send it to him.”

After the meal, we headed off to the movie. As is normal, I cried. I loved the ending. It was so romantic. And, there was one scene where I translated the French for Tommy. Even though he had been studying it with the French in Action tapes, he was just at the beginning stages. We set a schedule for him and me to study French together. I told him that with my help and my grandfather’s help, he could be so far along by the end of summer, he would have an easy A for eighth grade. I was so amazed with his tenacity to keep his GPA up even though he was going to be active in football.

Upon exiting the movie, he asked if I would like some ice cream. I agreed. And we found ourselves in the food court again. I asked him to get me a small strawberry yogurt. I was mindlessly watching people when I heard the chair next to me move. I turned expecting to see Tommy. Instead, to my great surprise, it was Grace. She sat down and looked me in the eye. My mind raced. The fact that she had been sitting with Dean when I last saw her was still on my mind. I was also worried if Dean or her saw us in the movie theater. I was petrified and frozen. Do I say hello and greet her.

As I was processing what I ought to do, with a heavy sigh, she said, “We need to talk, Jackie.”

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

[Author's Note: Feel free to comment on the TV and Movie references I made. Lots of Easter Eggs there. ;-) -- AuP]

Chapter 24 – Knight and Defenders

I sat down to write one of the hardest letters I have ever had to write.

Dear Dean,

I am sorry that when you came back in to the rink to talk to me, you found me in the arms of Tommy.

I need to tell you how that happened. I knew Tommy from a summer school class. You met him before. He found me on the ice balling after reading your note. When I handed it to him, he lent me his shoulder to cry on. That is what you saw on the rink when you came back in. Tommy was comforting me.

When you didn’t show up at school and I didn’t hear from you, I became dejected. Tommy helped pick up my spirits and the pieces after you broke contact with me.

Honestly, I wasn’t looking to replace you or forget about you or seeking to hurt you.

Tommy and I have been going to the mall this summer to watch movies together. I am enjoying it and his company too. But, we are going out together knowing that one day it will end. Tommy and I are learning to date.

I had hoped you hadn’t seen us at the movies. But you did.

Please understand. I do still love you. But you are a million miles from me now. And I am still a growing girl with feelings even I don’t understand yet. And you are a growing boy with feeling too.

My Grandma says it will be years before I mature enough to understand what love really is. I think she is right.

Please accept my apologizes. I never wanted to hurt you, And, I really was out of town. I was in Colorado visiting my brother and his fiancee.

Your first love,

Jackie

I folded it up neatly and placed it in Grace’s hands. “Here Grace. Send this with your letter to Dean. I hope it helps him.”

Grace was surprised by what Tommy and I had told her. “Did he really give you a note and run off? He never mentioned that.” she said.

Tommy interceded, “Yes. When I saw Jackie, I skated up to her to say hello and ask how her ice dancing class went with Dean. I found her balling her eyes out and then I saw the note in her hand. I took it from her and read it. I am not going to mince words. He said it was too painful for him to ever see her again. But, you can read it for yourself, I have kept the letter in my wallet for safe keeping.” I looked at him astonished that he had kept the letter and grateful at the same time.

Grace read the letter and began to cry. “Oh my! I am sorry for doubting you Jackie. I thought you were just being mean to Dean. But, this letter shows me why you were so upset. So, what class did you guys have last summer?” She handed the letter back to Tommy.

Tommy saved the day again, “It was an acting class. That is the reason we are quote unquote dating now is that we both want to improve our dating skills without hurting anyone.”

“Do you think it could turn serious at some point?” Grace asked sounding not quite believing what she heard.

“Frankly, Grace, if it does, that would be fine with me and possibly Jackie too.” I nodded. “But, Jackie is twelve and I am thirteen. We both realize that it won’t be for another couple of years that we will even be in a place where we can say for sure what our real feelings are. And our parents are making sure that the time we spend together is just for fun and we aren’t getting too serious.”

I added, “Just like with Dean and I, Tommy knows I wouldn’t be able to officially date until I was in 9th grade. Although Tommy and I call what we are doing now dating, the truth is that we both know it isn’t really dating. Neither of us can drive, or drink, or even have a full time job or a part time job either. It is not like we could get married or plan a family, or own a house together.”

“So, when I watched you two flirting, holding hands, being affectionate, it wasn’t for real?” Grace sounded skeptical.

“Well, yes and no.” I said.

Thankfully, Tommy expanded my comment with out my having to explain, “We genuinely like each other and have warm affectionate feelings for each other.” Grace smiled at hearing this from him. “So, the affection you see is very real. But, there is no commitment beyond a six month plan to be companions and close caring friends with the understanding that we could one day be future lovers. And frankly, that is almost the same exact arrangement she had with Dean. So, I really think if anyone is out of line, it is Dean. I saw an opportunity and I went for it.”

She nodded in agreement. “I can see your point. But, I feel for Dean, Jackie. I have known him for years. You were so good for him. I hope this letter helps.”

“Grace, I am thrilled I was good for him. But, whether he shut me or out or not, he moved. Which means, as I told him, we both would eventually move on. It wasn’t what I wanted. Either way it ended, I would have likely ended up with Tommy because we are sympatico. The simple truth is that if Dean had stayed, we would still be together. He left and I was forced to move on when I was dumped at the rink. I am happy that Tommy was there to help mend my broken heart.”

“That makes sense. I think I understand.” Grace got up to leave. We said our goodbyes. I hugged her and she left. “See you in 8th grade choir.” We sat back down. My ice cream was melted. I didn’t care. I started to cry. I was shaking.

“Are you going to be okay, Pips?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t want to hurt Dean. Come to think of it, I totally don’t want to hurt you either. Are you okay with all this? You have been so incredibly kind to me.”

“Yes. It’s okay. I don’t bruise that easily. And, I can keep a secret.”

I found his remark baffling. “Oh yeah, my secret, that I am a boy?”

“No, that you really are a girl in a boy’s body.” I was speechless. I was a deer caught in the headlights.

“Don’t say anything, Pips. Don’t ever tell me I am right so I can never quote you to John. I know Cat and how his mind works. I have always admired him. Since Kindergarten, in fact. He is one of the few people at school who sees me more than a stupid jock into sports and beyond the macho things I do. He chose you as a model because he believes in you and truly cares about you. That was all I needed to know that my hunches were right. Just relax and enjoy our time together. I have your back. I don’t tell someone I am their friend lightly. Whatever you decide to be and whenever you reveal your true self, I will be there for you. But, as for me and even when our time as partners ends, I see only girl and that is all I will ever or want to see, unless you decide otherwise. Girlfriend, we will always be friends.”

I looked at him and my eyes filled with tears and I began to lose it. He took me into his strong arms and I buried my head in his shoulder and just sobbed. He didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to say anything. He just stroked my back. And he proved to me the kind of man he would be when he grew up. Strong men don’t have to be afraid of woman or insecure about a woman in a man’s body. I just discovered my partner was a giant. A kind warmhearted lovable giant whose shadow cast one hell of a shelter. And I was lucky to be under it. The shadow of my friend.

After what seemed like an eternity of crying, which was probably only five minutes, I looked back up to him. “Oh my. I am sorry. Seems like I have ruined your shirt.”

Tommy laughed. “It’s okay, you haven’t ruined my life.”

I gave him instructions on how to clean his shirt. Then, at that moment, a thought hit me. I got a worried look on my face and Tommy asked, “What’s the problem?”

“Not what, who. Connie?”

Tommy nodded. “I wish I could say she won’t be a problem, but, you have convinced her that you are scared about being found out and I have encouraged that conclusion on her part too. When I told her about how you were treated by the boys and called a sissy when she wasn’t around, she told me she now believes you are waiting for puberty to fully kick in before changing back to Samuel. She feels sorry for you.”

“Thank you! You are a good friend. I very much appreciate you.” He smiled and patted me on the back. I needed to change the subject. “What movie will we see next?” I asked as I dried my tears and fixed my makeup.

Tommy looked at me with kind eyes and an engaging winsome smile. I could tell he wanted to see the next movie. “The Mask of Zorro. It should be a nice action movie and a romantic one too.”

He knew I loved romance and I knew he loved action. “Thanks Tommy. You know how to make a girl feel special.” I blushed. For the first time I knew he was looking at the real me knowing this was how I wanted to live my life.

Jane picked us up. I wondered if she noticed how really close we were as we drove Tommy home. We weren’t flirting as much, but we seemed very content with each other. He got out to walk me to the front passenger door again. I didn’t kiss him on the cheek. I hugged him and thanked him for a wonderful date. “I love you Tommy Hinks, you are one of the kindest boys I have ever known.”

“I love you too, Pips. You are one of the nicest girls I have ever known.”

As we drove away, Jane drilled me. “Okay, what happened? What did I miss?”

“At the food court, Grace showed up to confront me about Dean. Turns out that Dean saw us at the rink hugging. He had come back in to say he was sorry. I sent off a note to him via Grace. Tommy really stepped up to the plate so Grace didn’t have a chance to find me out but also backed me up on the truth of what happened. He had kept the letter so she could see why I was crying at the rink. What could have been a disaster turned into a triumph.”

Jane put her hand on my knee. “You know, Pips. I like Tommy. I don’t know the lucky girl who is going to get him, but she had better keep him.”

I looked out the window at the passing landscape. There was a part of me that really wished I would be that lucky girl. But, there was another part that felt he wasn’t meant for me as a husband. However, as a friend, I could count on him to help me make it as a girl. And that wasn’t so bad a compromise.

When we got home, I opened a letter from Debbie. It was sweet and cheerful. Thanking me for everything. It included a simple plea though. Could I add a song to the wedding, either during the ceremony or the reception? I unfolded the sheet music she sent. I knew I couldn’t sing this one upstairs. I needed to know if I could handle it in front of a crowd, or rather, my Dad. So, I went upstairs and grabbed my guitar and music stand. I brought it downstairs into the living room. I set up the music stand and the music. I called out, “Daddy, could you come here for a moment please.” He came out of the den and looked at me. I usually wasn’t so insistent.

“What is it honey?” he said sounding concerned.

“I need to know if I can handle singing this song in front of a group of people without losing it before I can tell Debbie yes.” He looked at me strangely. “Please, Daddy?” I pleaded.

I knew that if I sang it at the wedding, I would be singing it to him too. Dad said, “Okay, I will come and listen, although, I can’t see why.” He sat down. I perched myself on the edge of the couch, tuned the guitar, adjusted the sheet music, and began to sing even though tears filled my eyes …

There's a man who always stood right by me
Tall and proud and good when times were bad
Too much heart, is the only fault that I see
This song's not for you folks
It's for my dad
[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmYJhRDBLvs ]

Jane wandered in about the time I started and heard what I was singing to Dad. I sang all the lyrics. But, the whole time, tears flowed down my face. When I looked up at her, Jane was crying as well. We both looked at my Dad. He was crying too. I put the guitar down. He got up and I went to him and hugged him like my life depended on it. Jane joined me. The three of us just stood there and cried. Mom came in to ask what we would like for dinner. We must have sounded like blabbering idiots to her. It took about fifteen minutes before any one of us sounded coherent enough to tell her what I just sang to him.

“So, Debbie wants you to sing this at the reception?” Mom brushed away a couple of tears of her own off of her face.

I blew my nose and sobbed out, “Yes. S-she w-would l-like me to sing it to h-h-her d-dad f-f-o-r-r ...”

Mom finished it for me. “For the father daughter dance.” I just nodded yes and blew my nose again.

Jane was sobbing too when she put in her two cents worth. “I-I t-think it is a w-wonderful i-idea, M-Mom.”

“I agree.” Dad interjected. He was still crying too but had an easier time expressing himself.

Mom, shook her head. “This isn’t going to work if you start balling your eyes out again. But I have an idea.”

“W-what d-do y-you h-have in m-mind M-Mom?” Jane inquired. She was still emotional too.

“Why don’t you and Debbie record it and play it at the reception as back up if you can’t handle it?”

“G-Good i-idea!” I buried my face in my Dad and he just held onto me and smiled with pride that his child loved him so much.

Grandpa walked in at that point. “Who died?”

Jane cried out, “N-No o-one!” She flung herself around her grandfather’s neck and started crying again. He stood there trying to figure out what to do. Finally, he just hugged her back and started to comfort her.

About an hour later, we were laughing about it, but Mom’s suggestion was an excellent one. I called Debbie and talked to her.

“Hey Debbie, Pips here.”

“What did you think of the song?”

“Loved it. Lost it though. We cried for nearly an hour. It is such a beautiful song. How ever did you find it? My Mom came up with a suggestion though on how you can have it at the wedding and get around the crying problem.”

“What? You cried too. I thought it was just me. Nancy Sinatra just released it as a tribute to her Dad. When I heard it, I fell apart too.” I could hear sniffles on the other end.

“Mom suggested we record it in advance. So, I could sing it live, but if there is a problem, we can switch to the recorded version. Alternatively, I could play the music and let you sing it and record you too, then it could be played during your dance.”

She kept sniffling. “Oh, I could never do that! Although it sounds like a really good idea and very original.”

“Well, we got studios up the street here. I think we could do it next time you are out here. Anyway, think about it. I need a few days to get over the crying and then I could do a recording. There is a studio here where I think it will only cost about fifty bucks.”

“Oh, no, you all have done enough already.”

“Not a problem, Jane wants to use it her wedding. So, we would be doing it anyway. She wants to thank you for finding a fantastic song. So do I. It is beautiful and you deserve it. So, we are going to spend the money anyway.”

“Thanks kid. I will think about it.”

“Mom also wants you to know that I will have the dresses made for Jane and Mrs. Murphy by the end of the week. When can we get the others done?”

“I can get the basic measurements to you, right? Then I can arrange for them to have a final fitting nearer the wedding. Does that work?”

“Yes, I can have the outfits made prior to their coming here and then adjust them accordingly. But, it will be a zoo around that time. Sooner would be nicer. Also, Mom wants to talk you about the menu. Nothing bad. Just wants to finalize some details. She was smiling when she said it. She thinks she can get the costs of the entrees down to seven dollars a person and save your budget around one thousand dollars.”

“Sounds great! How about the cost of the drinks?”

“Iced tea shouldn’t cost much. But, Grandpa talked to the church. They don’t have enough pitchers to serve them with. So, we found a solution that you will love.”

“What is that?”

“Turns out that Wal-Mart sells plastic water pitchers for a buck a piece. We should be able to have two per table. Plus, we can have other drinks available too at drink stations too. We found plastic ware for the glasses that looks elegant too. That will make clean up a breeze and reduce the overhead.”

“Sounds like your Mom has it all worked out? I owe her so much.”

“Yes, she does have it worked out. I think yours would have worked it out for you too. I am sorry she won’t be able to be there for you. But, my Mom feels like she is getting practice for Jane’s wedding and is really enjoying it more than she thought she would. Plus, I think she really likes helping you too.”

“Thank you for lending me your Mom, Pips.”

“No problem. Thank you for sharing your feelings.”

“Thanks for asking, Pips.”

Later that week, the five boys and Tommy assembled at the school. Connie and I were in our flapper outfits. The boys were in their costumes. Tommy was in a beige seersucker suit with a silk midnight with Michael’s signature blue. I even had the armband around his right arm. The fedora hat was perfect too.

We began to work through the blocked moves without the music first. We repeated it about five times over our first hour so we would get comfortable doing them and remember them. Connie and my role was as back up dancers. We were window dressing.

The second hour, the music was turned on. Mrs. Duncan began to play the music and watch us dance to the music. She used hand signals to say speed up or slow down. She used a hand signal to say move on to the next element. It was different to do it to the music. But it was fun too. Having had to do a routine on the ice, I had become familiar with how it all worked. Even though the Munich dance routine didn’t have the brief tango, she had worked it in to this one based on the original video Jackson did for the song. When Tommy took my hand and twirled me into him and began to do the couple of steps, he was so sexy and larger than life.

The boys were thrilled too by their coach who stopped in to watch us. “Guys, the day of the wedding is an official practice day. But, I have given you permission to be at the wedding. This routine is going to be used to give us a winning season. Fantastic!” It was also revealed that each of them would be earning $150 working the tables at the wedding which would mean that their uniforms were paid for this season (school policy). The parents were thrilled by the news. Quite a few of them were there to watch the boys practice. They were Jackson fans and thrilled to see their sons work the routine.

In addition to the parents, a few of them had their girlfriends there too. There was lots of giggling and phrases like “You look so handsome!” floating around the gym. The final part of the practice session was doing the dance in the gym in the location it would be during the school rally and getting the principal’s okay. Principal Norris looked at me with interest during the setup for the dance as Mrs. Duncan blocked out with painter’s tape starting positions. I could tell he was surprised by my appearance.

“Hey Jackie. Nice to meet you, again.”

“Hi Principal Norris. I guess you know.” I said in as soft a voice as I could get away with.

“Yes. I know. You really don’t look like I remembered at all. I don’t think anyone here will know you anymore. I wouldn’t have unless I had been reminded by Mrs. Duncan. By the way, I was disappointed that you fell from the number one student until I heard that it was less than half a percentage point between you and the number one. Plus, she says number one is your best friend.”

“I know, but Mary worked hard and she is my best friend. We both worked hard. And she really is smart. And she is a real good friend.” I was flabbergasted that he was keeping up with my school performance.

“Good. Of course, Tommy is thrilled to be number one now.”

“He deserves it. He works hard too. He is doing all his English reading this summer. Did you know that?”

“No, really? I am impressed with that young man! Good to see his making sure he isn’t just another dumb jock.”

“And, he is doing special weight training and exercises to improve his usefulness on the field.”

“Great! Who is his trainer?”

“My brother, Robert.”

“You have got to be kidding me! Robert?”

“Yes, and he is getting his teaching degree at CSU. He has decided to become a teacher and a coach.”

“Good for him. Tell him when it comes time to do his in class internship for his teaching certification to give me a call personally. I promise I will let him do it here. I remember him helping students on the football team improve their performance back when he went here. I told him then that if he ever put his mind to his studies like he did for football, he would be a straight A student.”

“I shall.”

“How about Jane? How is she doing?” I told him about her wedding, Doc Oliver, and her studies.

“Well, it is good to see you again. And, from what I hear, you are doing God’s work with law enforcement. It is a bit strange to see you like this. But, I must say, you are a beautiful young lady.”

“Thank you. Oh, in case you didn’t know, Tommy is my partner.”

“Yes, I know. I wish you both good luck as you pursue bad guys.”

Everything was set up and we began our dance. Principal Norris watched us and applauded at the end. “Awesome! Well done.” He came up to talk to us. “Mrs. Duncan, I think it is good to use girls who don’t go here because I don’t want the boys chasing them during school. And ladies, you did a very nice job out there. Which means, boys, make sure no one accosts them before or after your performance.”

The boys said in unison, “Yes Sir!” Connie and I just giggled and winked at each other. We went off to the ladies room. In the hallway, she stopped for a moment as we entered. “Wow, I just realized, you haven’t been in a, you know, bathroom for a while, have you?”

I whispered, “I wear an appliance, so I can’t stand anyway.”

She looked a little baffled. “Do you, like, get thrills being in here?”

I whispered again, “No. Frankly, I avoid using bathrooms if someone is in them. At Danvers, I use the office one next to my Mom most of the time. But, if someone knows me like you or Mary, I don’t worry because there are stalls. Are you okay with it? I can wait if it bothers you.”

“Oh, no. Don’t wait. I was just curious.”

After relieving ourselves, we washing our hands and checking our makeup when a couple of cheerleaders came in. They were here part of a meeting to set up recruitment in the fall. “Did you see Phil in that suit? He is so cute. And I love the dance they were doing. Sm-moot-th criminal.” The cheerleader did a slide to illustrate her point. “I didn’t think football players had dancing skill in them.”

The other cheerleader said, “Oh they can dance, but they like to do it in the end zone more than the side lines.” They stopped when they saw us in our outfits.

“Hello girls! We loved what you guys were doing out there. You look so cute in your costumes. Hey, aren’t you Connie Hinks?” one of them said. Connie smiled.

“Yes, I am Tricia. I remember you. You were always asking questions about becoming a cheerleader. I am glad you did.”

She responded. “Well, Miriam here twisted my arm and got me to join. That is why I asked you all those questions. She was trying to convince me and I knew you were on the cheer leading squad.”

“You two are so cute. Don’t I know you? You seem familiar. But I can’t put my finger on it.” the second one said. I recognized her. Her name is Miriam Sanders. She was the one I pretended to marry in fourth grade so we could give the guys ex-lax. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh at the memory.

I put out my hand quickly. “Hi, my name is Jackie. I go to Danvers Middle School. I am in 8th grade too. I am Tommy’s girlfriend. Connie’s brother. What’s your name?” By acting first, I avoided her hearing my last name. I would have to remind Principal Norris not to announce my last name so people put two and two together.

“Miriam. I am in 8th grade. Pleased to meet you Jackie.” I was glad to see she hadn’t become a snob. She was one of the few who were kind to me in fourth grade.

“Well, Connie, is she worthy of our Tommy?” Tricia asked.

She looked at me and smiled, “Yes. Yes she is! She has that something extra that defines her as very unique and different.” She winked. I didn’t laugh, but I wanted to roll on the floor.

After we left, “Thanks Connie. Miriam almost recognized me. That was scary.”

“Yes, I caught it too. She was looking you over. I am almost certain your fake boobs threw her, but, the sad thing about your particular flapper outfit is that it evens out the curves on a lady because of the fringes and makes her look more boyish. Now I see why you are anxious to look so girly.”

“Do you think I should find a different flapper outfit for our school performance?”

“Most definitely. It would help. And I want to do it with you. I can help you get a flapper outfit that hugs a figure and shapes you in such a fashion that someone like Miriam won’t remember you as boy.”

So, we made an appointment to look around for a substitute outfit for me and work on it. Actually, working with Connie was going to be a treat.

Later, at Erin’s office, “Yes, I know this is a science thing you did in school. But, I want you to look at it differently.” Erin said. I went ahead and pushed the north end of a magnet and the other north end of a magnet, so, naturally, it repelled of course. The other magnet was between to rigid blocks, so the only thing it could do was move away.

“Remove either rigid pole lying on the table. And then try.” Erin said. I did so and although it repelled, it flipped around and suddenly attached to my magnet.

“What does this show me, Erin?”

“It shows you what is beginning to happen in your family dynamic. The rigid poles holding you to your biological sex are being removed. Slowly, members of your family are dropping their rigid stance. In time, they all will flip around and embrace you as Samantha.” I smiled.

“So, what do I do?”

“Listen to Doug’s advice. He is spot on. Let your sister and your grandmother work on them after you are gone. From what I see, your parents are building a rigid structure right now to keep you as Samuel. Now, most advocates would see that as bad. I see it as good. The reason is that they want the best for you. They feel that your best future lies in you being what you were born to be. Like the magnet, which resisted at first when you pushed, they will quickly snap into position if they have the right guidance.”

“Can I give them that guidance?”

“No, that will come from those in the family who are already becoming informed about you. Your grandmother and your sister are learning more and more about you even now. I would largely suspect that they will ask you innocent questions. Answer them innocently. When you make your trip to Canada soon, they will be home talking to them about what if you don’t want to change. They will be the north of your magnet gently pushing your Dad and your Mom. And the innocent questions they will ask will be the foundation of their arguments in the future.”

“Wow! Okay. I trust you. Oh, can I pour you more tea, by the way?”

“Oh yes, please. I really enjoy tea time with you. And that is a really cute outfit, where did you get it?”

I poured her more tea and we had girl time. I loved it. We talked outfits, weddings, and a whole bunch more.

But, she went over one more thing with me which gave me a moment of angst and pride. “I can tell you have matured and are strong enough to hear what I want to pass on to you. I do have one client that has successfully remained the sex he was born in, even though he feels dysphoria like you. I want you to think about it and talk to me next time, okay. What he has is a very strong maternal instinct. I mean strong. It is that instinct that caused him to be able to accept his situation in life. The desire to hold his own child his arms was so high that it competed with his dysphoria and overwhelmed it. In his teens, he knew that his sister would never share her eggs nor would he be able to have a family of his own if he pursued the course he secretly desired. It took him some years into his twenties, but he was able to reconcile his feminine side by becoming the kind of man he knew a good woman needed. He phrases it as he mothered himself into manhood. He is happily married. And he really is content. But, he credits his ability to be that way to the maternal nature he was born with because of being transgender. Not every transgender has an instinct that strong. Ironically, he says what he enjoys most, other than his wife, is teaching his sons to be gentlemen and how to treat women with respect and to respect their intelligence. I won’t tell you how he spoils his daughter. But, I bet you can guess she gets lots of Daddy dates. And, his children are never told that it is wrong to cry. In fact, they have seen their Dad cry and be tender.”

“I will think it over. Are you telling me this because you think I am wrong about being a girl?” I asked with a concerned tone.

“Oh no, but I would be remiss not to tell you that Samuel could still work if you put your mind to it and find something to hold on to that is stronger than your dysphoria. You need to know that you are strong enough to go in any direction you choose. I am telling you that you aren’t the same little frightened girl that first came into my office.”

“You mean it?”

“Oh yes, Samantha, you have matured and grown considerably. You have become a fine young woman.”

“Thank you, Erin.” I smiled and blushed. “So, you really think I can master this either way I go.”

“Yes. And it is not wrong to go with girl, either. I think that is most definitely the direction you are headed. Let me put it this way, when you first came into my office, it was the little girl talking. Today, it is a matured individual who has confidence and grace.”

When I got home, I found Erin nailed it. While doing laundry with Jane, she casually asked, “Do you remember my dressing you as a girl when you were two?”

“Sadly, no. I wish I did. It is a memory I would love to relive. You must have been having fun with your little brother.”

“Yeah, I wish Grandma Zimmer wasn’t so unhappy with my work. You were very upset.”

“I am sure she didn’t mean to hurt me. Doug thinks that is why I became so withdrawn.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he says I can be overly sensitive. I guess I was. Dr. Cramer says I have been outgrowing it. But I think you already knew that. Even though I was being a brat, I could tell you still cared about me and wanted to help me.” I began to tear up for moment.

“Thanks Sis, I really did.”

We went upstairs and put away the laundry and began our other chores.

The next day, the house was filled with girls galore. Jane took care of Brian. He had become her favorite. I played with Carol. And Alice was having fun with Sarah. We gabbed and played the whole time. It was grand fun. Miranda was thrilled with her dress for the wedding. I carefully fitted her and made her look special for her role as the flower girl. When Mr. Murphy showed up to pick her up, she modeled the dress. She was all smiles. One by one, they all left. Mrs. Smith came to pick up the triplets and it was just Jane and me.

Jane sounded dreamy when she observed, “You look happy, Pips.”

I giggled. “I am very happy, Jane. I never knew being a girl could be so much fun.”

“Shh, don’t let the secret out. Go get changed and lets go see Tommy and Connie.” I squealed with pleasure and ran upstairs to get changed. I think she noticed how much I enjoyed my time with him too. And frankly, I was building up a cadre of supporters.

It was near the end of the month and we had one more sting out in Shreveport, Louisiana. I heard that riverboat gambling had come to the area recently and with its history of brothels, it had attracted those who wished to have sex with young girls and boys. I was disgusted at the concept, of course. This sting was different. Tommy and I were in swim outfits next to a covered pool and a one way mirror. We were supposed to be chummy and into each other. That is all we were told to be. And, we needed to make it work.

So, we became sweeties that day. We would hold each others hands and just talk like the song of Annie Lennox says, ‘Just like lovers do.’ And we would exchange embraces. I turned on a boombox and began to teach Tommy how to dance the Fox Trot. He was a quick learner. But, when he stepped on my toe, I would look down in disgust and he would take his hand and raise my chin, say he was sorry, and give me a quick kiss on the lips after which I would giggle. Then we would continue our dance lesson until he became really good at it. In a strange sort of way, I wanted him to make more mistakes so I could get more kisses on the mouth. Then we moved on to quick steps and simple dance steps. We also practiced our tango.

We made sure we put sunscreen on each other and did it slowly for show. It became very, how shall I say, stimulating. That evening, as Tommy and I cooked dinner, Debbie commented, “You two are really into each other. We caught at least fifty men today and our first woman. I hope that isn’t a trend.”

On the flight back to home, we again held hands. There was a storm we had to fly around which made our trip longer. Tommy could see that I was scared. He held me and I melted. “Thanks Tommy. Do you mind my asking you a question?”

“Sure?”

“How come you don’t mind being called Tommy. I would think it would become annoying to be called what some might consider a little boy’s name.”

“Depends. I have learned that by the way someone says my name, I know what they think of me. If they say it with respect, I know they like me. If they say it like a little boy’s name, they don’t respect me.”

“How do I say it?” I said concerned that I might be saying it wrong.

“When you say it, all I hear is love, respect, and honor. You say it like it is a real manly man’s name.”

“Good, because I value your friendship and I love you very much.”

“I know you do, Pips. Some guy is going to be a lucky man when he lands you for a bride.”

“Would you be my maid of honor?” He was startled by my question.

He quickly replied, “I don’t know. I don’t think I have the legs for it.”

“I could use long skirts if that helps.” I teased.

“Well then, maybe?” He chuckled. “But only if I get to choose the lipstick color that goes with it.” he said assertively.

I feigned disapproval in my voice and said, “I guess not then. There are just some non-negotiables with women you are going to have to accept in life Tommy Hinks. Lipstick color is one of them.” We both laughed and held each other.

The plane landed and my Grandma picked me and Jane up. The two took me to movie for a ‘girls night out.’ We saw ‘There’s Something About Mary.’ We left the movie theater with me promising to be more careful when I played the guitar for someone. On the drive home, I got teased, and teased, and teased about the way I found a song to fit a romantic or emotional situation. Grandma had me in stitches in the back seat. “Grandma, I love you.”

“I love you too, Pips.”

As she walked me to the door and handed me my suitcase, Grandma leaned into my ear and said softly, “I love my granddaughter very much. She is a treasure.”

I kissed her goodnight and gave her a big hug which was returned. Jane took my suitcase and went inside leaving me with Grandma.

“Honey, can we go to the salon together soon?”

“Oh yes, Grandma, I would love that!”

The next few days flew by and I found myself sitting in front of a mirror with Jane teaching me more on how to pretty myself up for Tommy. I had found a really cute silk blouse and pleated skirt combination at the store. The skirt had buttons going the front too. It was so cute too. I looked more teenage than adult in it, so Jane was showing me some techniques to be more teenage in the face too. I went with a headband too. For the first time, I let a movie influence my look. I liked how the girls dressed in Clueless. I even wore a black jacket to go along with the plaid skirt. And, I had a new silver purse to go with the outfit too.

Grandma came wondering in to watch us work. “That’s a lot of work for a boy that you won’t be dating after the first of the year, don’t you think Honey?” She didn’t ask it in an accusatory tone. More of one of concern that it was all for naught. I could see that too, but was trying to forget it. This was time to embrace it.

“Yeah, but I really like to look pretty for him. It makes me feel good.” I responded.

“Well, I hope the young man appreciates all your hard work, because I sure do. You look stunning and cute in that dress.”

I turned around and asked in pert sort of way, “You really think so, Grandma? Thank you!” I went over and gave her a hug.

She hugged me back and said with a twinkle in her eye, “Pips, let’s say you look scrumptious.” I giggled. I didn’t care if I sounded like a girl around her anymore.

Jane dropped me off at the mall and I found Tommy waiting for me out front. “I am sorry I made you wait. That wasn’t very nice of me. Forgive me?” I pouted.

“Oh Pips, how could I be angry with you looking like this! Come on. The movie starts in ten minutes. We’ll get something to eat afterwards.” He put his arm around me and I felt loved. The movie was thrilling. I learned a new word. Vigorous. Well, I knew it already. But, it was the way it was said. Penelope Cruz and Antonio Banderas were so steamy and sexy. Had I been complete, I would have been putty in Tommy’s hands.

During the movie, something special happened too. We held hands and when Antonio would kiss the hand of a lady, Tommy would kiss mine too. There was a part of me that longed for him to do the same when it came to lips, but I could understand why he didn’t. I wouldn’t have objected if he did though.

We ate in the food court again, but finished quickly. We had some time to kill and went for a long walk around the mall where Tommy probably felt he could show me off. I had different ideas. I pulled him in a nice men’s store, Structure, and showed him so nice clothes he would look good in. He seemed to enjoy being seen in the store with his girlfriend, instead of his Mom.

“Please, no baggy pants though. I don’t care if that is the style. I don’t want to see your boxers.” I said.

“Okay, okay. It is just some of the guys are doing it, you know, to look cool.”

“You already look cool. And I don’t dress like this so you can look like a pile of clothes walking around in a mall. Ugh!”

“You do look rather nice today. I like it. I really appreciate the work you put into it. I see Connie getting dressed and she spends a good deal of time on her outfits and looking good. I suppose you do too. I mean, I have watched you get ready for the stings. You do really work at it.”

“Thank you, Tommy. I do put a lot of work into it. And seeing your smile when you look at me makes it all worth it.”

I don’t know how, but Mrs. Hinks came into the store and found us. “Oh, there you two are. I didn’t find you in the food court and I suspected someone would get you in here sooner or later.” She winked at me. So, she started to help me find clothes for Tommy.

“Mom, please! I don’t want it.” Mrs. Hinks looked at me for support.

“Trust me Tommy, it will look good on you. School is just around the corner. In a few weeks, soon, there will be no selection in here because of the back to school sales. Your Mom is right.”

There is nothing more helpless that a boy with his Mom and his girlfriend working on him. To make matters worse, I don’t know how she found us, Connie wandered in too. “Yes, Tommy, I love that on you. It is a nice sweater.” Connie said.

Now the poor guy had his Mom and two girls giving him fashion advice. Truth be told, Tommy was smiling ear to ear. He loved his Mom and his sister too. I could see it in his eyes. The way he hugged his Mom when she came into the store. The way he teased his sister and she teased him back.

For the next hour, Tommy was at our mercy and we loved it. What was supposed to be just a date turned into a shopping date. And, secretly, I loved it too. I liked that my boyfriend had some style and looked nice too. Of course, it is easy for a guy. Good fitting pants and a nice shirt. That is all they need.

We barely got the trunk closed with all the clothes Mrs. Hinks purchased for Tommy. We gave each other high fives that we had turned a simple date into a shopping spree and he was a deer caught in the headlights.

Mrs. Hinks was impressed that he opened the door for her first and then for me. I was also impressed that when he walked around the car, he opened the door for his sister to get in the front driver’s seat. I thought it was sweet that Connie knew to wait for him to do that. That the women out with him all waited for him to do his masculine duty was a tribute to what a real gentleman he was and what they expected him to be.

When he dropped me off at the house, he opened my door and walked me to my front door. “Thank you Tommy for a wonderful date.” I hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you for helping embarrass me.” he quipped.

“Tell the truth. You loved it, didn’t you?” I said. Tommy grinned.

“Yeah, I did. See you next time. Although, there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of movies coming out.”

“How about miniature golf then?”

“That works. I will find out where and call you tomorrow.” I waved as he returned to the car.

I went inside to find Mom looking at a letter. It was from the Pilsners. Apparently, Dean had been in an accident and was in the hospital. Some boys in the new neighborhood had challenged him to do something dangerous on a skateboard and he had accepted the challenge.

Mom wasn't happy. “They want you to come see him. They said he misses you.”

All I could think of is ‘what was I going to do?’

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

Chapter 25 – A Shoe Drops

Dean’s accident threw me for a loop. Dad held me as I cried. “What do I do, Mom? Do I go to him?”

Mom shook her head as she read the note again. “I don’t know. They are asking a lot of us and of you. It isn’t as though you could sprout wings and fly there. And what kind of lesson would he learn from it anyway? Become a wounded puppy and the whole world will come at your beck and call. It’s insane to put this kind of pressure on you honey. Especially at your age. After all you have been through with ...” Mom stopped mid-sentence not wanting to finish it.

I looked up at her and cringed. I knew what she was about to say. Her anniversary was weighing heavily on my mind. I knew I needed to finish the sentence if only so the lovely and dear departed name was spoken out with love and didn’t become an eggshell in the discussion we were having. “Cybil.” I quivered at what I had just said voluntarily. I added, “I miss her less and less. But she is still part of me and always will be.” I stayed calm even my heart stilled ached. “How is my going to his bedside any different than when I went to her bedside?”

“Because Cybil couldn’t control her condition. Her need was palpable and immediate. Your response was genuine and timely. Dean’s need is frivolous and capricious because he is asking you to become disingenuous and foolish.” Dad interjected with a little more than a hint of anger directed at Dean.

“I would ask you to brush my hair Mom and help me work this out, but there is a part of me that thinks it would be better used on my backside so I never do something as stupid and telling a boy I care about him because I want him to feel better about himself.” I hung my head down.

Grandma firmly lifted my chin and looked me in the eye. “Pips, you are a lovely and caring person. Don’t you dare say you need to be punished for being kind! You did what your mother or I would have done in your place. You sent him away with a warm feeling in his heart. You didn’t say you would marry him or were madly in love with him. You said your time together was valuable and meaningful. More importantly, you knew by telling him “if there was a first love, he was it” it would boost his fragile confidence. That was one of the most honest and decent things I have ever seen you do. You don’t deserve to be punished like this by him.” Her words cut into my melancholy and brought bright illumination into my soul. She smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead.

“Thank you Grandma. I needed to hear that.”

I got up and went to the living room window while the adults bantered about possible solutions and ideas. Looking at the sidewalk where Sally and her mom walked the day I made the dress for her prom so joyfully, an inspiration came to my mind. I knew the right answer, or, rather, who taught me the right answer.

“Mom, Dad, Grandma, I think I need to make a phone call before we continue.”

Forty minutes later, Tommy stood with his mother in our living room having just heard all the options the adults felt would work. “Those are the options Tommy, what does my boyfriend want me to do?”

“Are you sure you want me to tell you?” Tommy asked feeling uneasy. His mother looked at him with pride though because she believed in him. So did I.

“No, I want you to guide me as the head of our partnership, not simply order me. My parents’ marriage works because they trust each other. I can do no less with you. My choice has to be to be loyal to my partner first and trust him to help guide and direct me to make the correct decision. Right or wrong, I need and want your guidance and will do whatever you decide is right because I have faith in you. Just like my Mom and Dad have faith in each other.” My Dad and Mom looked at each other and smiled. Mrs. Hinks hugged her son and whispered something in his ear.

“Okay then, grab a pen and paper. I think it is time to design and send a well crafted letter.” Tommy stated. Tommy had me write down the goals of the letter. For the next hour, we crafted and carefully reworded a letter to Dean. By the time we were done, Tommy and the others had guided me to write a simple but direct letter to Dean that was firm, loving, and hopeful without putting me into the position of having to go to Atlanta to see him. But, always, Tommy decided what was going on the paper which I knew was right and proper.

The final draft said …

My Dear Dean,

I am so saddened to hear of your accident. My prayers and wishes for your quick recovery preceded this letter and will continue after you read it. I wish I could come and see you, but I can’t. I am sure you understand why.

Trying to fit in to a new neighborhood and school is difficult and challenging. I understand. It was for me becoming a new student at Danvers where I only knew a few students I had met during the summer. I was scared too.

I hope this is a lesson to chose your friends wisely. No real friend would ever put their friend in danger in order to prove their friendship. Nor will a true friend make you feel unwelcome by asking you to do something foolish.

I know this because I learned it from you and others. In particular, your kindness to me over this last school year made it one of the best I have ever had.

Sadly, I cannot, nor can you, just settle for our past achievements. We have to move on and relearn the same lessons over again by making new friends and establishing new relationships that build our ability to grow into successful adults.

My advice is to look for someone like yourself who is kind and considerate. It will take time, but they will find you. And before you know it, you will feel a part of the neighborhood and school once again.

I hope that fate will one day allow us to see each other again. Until then, makes lots of good friends and wonderful memories of good times.

Take good care of yourself and get well soon,

Jackie

P. S. If ever I do find myself out that way, I will let you know. Maybe we can get together.

After it was written, addressed, and stamped, Tommy was applauded and lauded for his excellent judgment and skill as a leader. Mrs. Hinks was so very proud and looked at me with a new found respect too. I think she liked that I trusted her son so much. And, to be truthful, I liked making him look good. It was a wonderful feeling to see him in charge.

After all was said and done, I walked with Tommy out to his mom’s car where she was waiting for him. Just before we got to the car, I said, “Tommy, thank you. I am sorry I didn’t use your help to write my first letter to Dean. I should have. You did an excellent job back there.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do. You’re a good man with a kind heart.” Tommy blushed and I gave him a hug. Without thinking, I stood on my toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek too.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to ...”

“Don’t apologize. I think it was sweet and adorable.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek back. I started to tear up. He winked and said, “I promise not to fall in love with you no matter how hard you make it.” I giggled.

“Thank you. I don’t need another Dean.”

He gently let go and proceeded to get in the car, winked at me, and said,“See you in dance class in a few days.”

I waved goodbye. I felt warm inside and happy. He was my hero. He was my new ballroom dance partner too.

After dinner, Grandma took me for a walk. “I am so proud of you, Pips. You showed excellent and mature judgment today. I got to thinking. I never had a daughter, so I never had the talk that I am going to have with you. It may seem silly to you since you are a boy, but I am going to have it anyway. Is that okay?”

We ambled down the sidewalk taking in the night air. “Yes, please. I would like to hear it.”

“Good! I don’t like feminism for one reason. I refuse to cede to any man our superiority as a sex. We are the child bearers. We are the life bringers. The destiny of mankind is in our hands, so men owe us everything. Why even talk about equality.” I giggled. I knew what she was saying.

“But, as with anything, with great power comes great responsibility. I have watched over the years some girls become teenage idiots or geniuses with some in between. The difference is enormous between these two positions. The idiots are the ones who are vapid. They believe looking pretty and knowing how to dress nicely is all there is too being the best girl they can be and to hell with boys. I love Alexander Pope’s poem ‘The Rape of the Lock’ for that reason. It is a brilliant observation of those kind of girls. Then there are the ones like you who are smart and pretty, but, who get that they can hurt boys and really care about them. That is you.”

I did a little showing off. “Thank you Grandma. What did Alexander Pope say in that poem, ‘Some secret truths, from learned pride conceal’d, To maids alone and children are reveal’d.’ I like being smart and pretty.”

“I know you do.” She seemed rather pleased that I said that. “That is the teenager in you starting to come out. But, that isn’t the point I am making. Sooner or latter they converge and they start thinking alike. Somewhere, around the age of nineteen or twenty, just like with Jane now, they realize that they have to start fulfilling their lot in life as the vessels that allows humanity to sail into the future. They become wives and mothers expecting to fulfill their biological purpose. I can’t tell you how often I have looked at a teenage girl whose gaze is vacant and unguided, whether idiot or a genius, who, in a few short years, has a deeply thoughtful and very meaningful gaze as she looks first into her husbands eyes and later into her baby’s eyes. I don’t know what happens in our girl’s brain, but it does. We become transformed in a way men never will.”

“I have lamented to Mom that I don’t want to forget the wonder of doing a cartwheel. Frankly, I am afraid of becoming a teenager.”

“Oh, Honey, you can’t be afraid to go through this period of your life. This is the time of your life where you take all that playtime you had as a kid and start turning it into adult time. You said you act like you are really dating with Tommy, but really aren’t. Well, that is being like an adult, but not. Soon, you will be finding all the relationships at school becoming so important and maybe think that your parents don’t understand. You will start living out a soap opera everyday as a teenage girl. That is what happened with Dean if you think about it. It is his first teenage debacle, not his last. During the next eight years, you will have all sorts of drama, intrigue, failures, successes, and nobody gets me moments along with achievements, crushes, hearts you break and broken hearts of yours. You will have nothing important going on in your life and everything that is critically important at the same time.”

“Ugh! Do I have to?” I slouched and pouted. “It all sounds so ponderous.”

“Take heart. Cheer up. At the end of it all, you will find that you are ready for the real dramas of life.”

We stopped and I held her hand. “Grandma, do you mean like Cybil?”

“Yes, I am afraid so. One day, you will say goodbye to me and Grandpa. Then in the blink of an eye, it will be your Dad or your Mom. It seems like yesterday that I had this talk with my Mom and she died ages ago.” Grandma had a tear and a far away look in her eye.

“All the world’s a stage.” I said thinking of Shakespeare’s treatise on life.

“Precisely. Life is so worth living. You can’t be afraid of enjoying and playing the parts you have been given when you are given them. Soon, you will be a teenager and will be having all the ups and downs of the teenage years. But they will prepare you for adulthood where the responsibility and the rewards are so much more rewarding. Don’t be afraid to embrace the time you are in and experience it. For example, like taking a walk with your granddaughter and telling her how much you love her and are proud of her.” I hugged her and kissed her.

“I so love being your granddaughter and I love you so much too.” I said. “I think I understand now. One day I might have this chat with my granddaughter too and tell her about my terrific grandmother.”

“Or daughter. You never know. Because, what I saw today was a great first step of you growing into a beautiful and courageous young lady.” I blushed.

As we walked, I found myself getting contemplative, “Is it really worth it Grandma?”

“Oh, yes. Every moment, bad or good. Because it is life and life is meant to be lived. You can’t live in fear of your shadow when you have the light to look forward to in life. You will have challenges. But there are worth overcoming. It is just like the letter Tommy had you write for Dean.”

I grinned. “That was nice, wasn’t it? He did a great job.”

“Yes, and I am very impressed that you trusted him to help you write it. That wasn’t a natural thing for you to do. You are used to being in charge. So am I. But, a man needs to be needed. If we flaunt our superiority over them, then we don’t give them a reason to stay, do we?”

A few days later, Dr. Lefevre came into Dr. Cramer’s room instead of Erin. It startled me, but it was nice to see her.

“Hello Samantha, I was at a conference nearby and Erin said we could have a session today. Just us.”

I was startled. I wasn’t quite comfortable with her yet. I hesitated, but said, “Sure, would you like some tea”

“No thank you. You will notice I am not using a pad. Nothing here will go down into your file. I have the luxury of being able to ignore everything you say today because I am not under the rules of the United States and those obligations I have in Canada aren’t in effect here.”

That made me feel a little better. “Okay, so what do you want to ask me? Fire away.”

“How do you feel now versus last year when you were a boy most of the time?”

“Fantastic. I don’t miss being a boy. I wake up every day and I am comfortable in my own skin. Well, almost. I can’t wait until the rest of me catches up.”

“Describe to me how you felt before.”

“I would notice things. The way a girl was dressed and how I would love to look that way. Or, dreaming of what it would be like to look that way. It was like a dull ache that never went away. A persistent longing to be someone else.”

“And now? Do you still feel it?”

“No, just on certain occasions during the day. Like when I need to go to the bathroom or go swimming. I can feel a little left out.”

“Okay, if I could wave a magic wand and you could remain as you are without question or the way you were before, which would you choose?”

“The way I am, a girl. All girl.”

“So, you are dating somehow? Tommy knows you biologically are a boy, right?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Does he suspect or know you feel that you are a girl in a boy’s body?”

“Yes. He has told me that he thinks I am really a girl, but not to tell him. He says he doesn’t mind. He just wants me to know he cares.”

“That is so nice. Do you trust him?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“Okay, one last question before Erin comes in and we just chat. When you come to Canada, do you think your parents will be ready to accept you as a girl when I verify your diagnosis of being transgender?”

“I think my sister Jane and my Grandma all ready are. They will get them ready for it, yes.”

“So, it sounds like your grandmother and sister are becoming informed. Do you know their source of information?”

“No. I wish I did.”

“See if you can find out. When you do, just drop me a postcard with their name on it and your name. I will take it from there. One last thing. When you get to Canada, the rules will be slightly different than here. There is the potential of the Crown finding out about your gender issues. I will officially diagnose you now to Erin, but, you are never to mention it or talk about it outside of this office today until the end of your stay in Myers Bluff. Don’t even tell Tommy or anybody else. To talk about it would jump the gun.”

I nodded showing my understanding. Our joint session went very well. Erin and Dr. Lefevre and I outlined where I would stay, who I would stay with, how often I would see her, and certain aspects of my drug treatments. It was all wrapped up very nicely. It was decided that at the end of my 8th grade school year, I would switch to home schooling as the best course. It wasn’t ideal, but they felt it allowed me the greatest chance of success.

Debbie’s wedding was now three weeks away. Chaos was rearing its ugly head. And what happened next only made it harder.

“Wake up sleepy head.” Robert shook me. I woke up and wiped my eyes to see his face forcing a smile. I could tell he had been crying.

“Robert, what are you doing home?” I asked. “You are supposed to be in summer school.”

“Remember Coach Finklestein? He passed away. I came back briefly for the funeral.”

I remembered talking to Coach Finklestein once or twice while I went to Canterbury about football. He was a pleasant man and was excited that I was there and hoped I would be like Robert. He was a devout Jew. He was a cantor and was as well known for his singing as his coaching. One of the reasons he never yelled at the students was that he wanted to protect his voice. That meant that when he corrected you, the softer his voice, the more he was yelling at you.

Robert loved the man. It was Coach Finklestein that got him to love football and, frankly, want to be a coach. His passion to do your best was infectious and joyful. He taught his player to hit hard and hug just as hard afterwards.

I could remember walking past his office in the hallways and hearing the most delicious music coming from it. Much of it was in Hebrew and very different from pop music. He noticed that I preferred his music to football, so he stopped talking to me about joining the team rather quickly. We enjoyed talking about classical music and how much he enjoyed playing the violin. I talked to him about learning piano and guitar.

One day, after I had finished making some alterations for Mrs. Duncan, I came out into the auditorium to find him working with the janitor on setting up for a sporting event. I came over and found him playing the piano. He asked me to sit down and play and he would sing.

He then asked me, “What songs do you know?”

“Mostly Moody Blues.”

“Hmm, that won’t do. How about a Leonard Cohen song?”

“Leonard who?”

Coach Finklestein pulled out some sheet music and put it on the piano.

“Can you read music?”

“Yes sir.” I played the music slowly so I could get a feel for it. It was a song called Hallelujah. It took me a couple of moments, but I found it an easy and slow piece to play.

“You ready, Samuel?”

“For what?”

“You play and I will sing.”

For the next few minutes I played and he sang. I began to cry as the words touched me. But I didn’t miss a note. At the end, Coach Finklestein handed me a tissue.

“Samuel, I guess football isn’t for you, is it?”

“No, I am not like Robert.” I hung my head down feeling that I had somehow had disappointed him.

“That is so okay Samuel.” Coach Finklestein beamed making me feel special. He insisted with an enthusiastic tone, “You have a different calling than football. There was a great man in the bible called Samuel who was a great prophet in Israel. I will give you the advice that was given to him.”

“What is that sir?”

“Listen to what God is calling you to do. Just listen to Him and he will direct your path to where you talents are calling you.”

“I do like music.” I said looking at the piano keys not wanting to look in his eyes. “I love classical music in particular.”

“You play nicely. Ever try singing too?”

I looked back up at him. “Oh no. I don’t think I could do that.”

“The two often go hand in hand. I know, because I am a cantor for my Synagogue, Beth Shalom. I play the piano there and sing worship songs for the congregation. I bet you would be good at playing and singing. Think about it.” His words were warm and understanding.

“I will. Thank you for understanding.” I started to tear up a little. I could tell he saw it and didn’t pull the man up routine on me that Robert might have.

Coach Finklestein patted me on the shoulder and left to go back working with the janitor. That was about the last time I saw him. I could see why Robert loved him so much. Even though I wasn’t a football player, he still cared about who I was and was meant to be. I wasn’t a winning record. I was a record of Coach Finklestein’s wins with students. I never got a chance to thank him.

I started to tear up looking at Robert’s pained face. “Oh, Robert, not Coach Finklestein! He was such a lovely and kind man!”

“I know Pips.” He began to cry. I have hardly ever seen my brother cry. I swung my feet out of bed and just hugged my brother. We held each other for what seemed like the longest time. Through my tears, I told him the story about Coach Finklestein and the piano.

Mom came in and saw us holding each other. I saw her smile.

“Come on Robert. There is a phone call for you about Coach Finklestein.” Robert quickly left the room. I heard as they left, “I made a nice breakfast for you. It will lift your spirits. How is Juliette?”

I got dressed slowly, I put on a nice dress, did my makeup, and went downstairs. Robert was talking to Dad about the funeral.

“Because he was Jewish, they must have a quick funeral. They have asked as many of his students to come and participate as possible.” Robert looked at me. “Pips, would you mind playing and singing at his funeral?”

“Umm, no. But what would I be singing?”

“Hallelujah. That was the Rabbi on the phone. I told him a little about what you said. Not the prophet bit about Samuel. I told him that he just had sung the song for some one in my family and that she went on to help her school win third place last year in a choir competition.”

Robert being proud of my performance in the choir was so nice to hear. And the look in his eyes as he said I helped was a joy to behold.

Mom interrupted with concern in her voice, “But then her secret will be out!”

Robert grinned and said, “Nope. I told him her name was Jackie Zimmer Miller and that she is my cousin.”

Dad looked at me, “It is up to you, Pips.”

“Okay, I will do it. I never got a chance to thank him for being so kind to me.”

“Dad, the funeral is tomorrow at the synagogue. The Rabbi would like to see us today and go over the service. He wants the eulogy to be students talking about how Coach Finklestein has made a difference. Finding out that I will be a coach is a plus. And Rabbi Cohen likes the fact that he encouraged a young girl to sing and she went on to help her school win third place too.”

At the funeral, I was asked to get up during the eulogy. Rabbi Cohen asked me, “Why do you sing now, young lady?” He handed me a microphone. I looked at him as I spoke.

“Coach Finklestein stopped me one day after I made some alterations for the school’s drama department and asked me to play a song with him. He told me that I should try singing. Well, that summer I did. And this last year, I participated at my school’s choir competition and they won third place. The best any school in our district has ever done.”

Rabbi Cohen continued, “Would you please play the song you played for Coach Finklestein and sing it for him?”

“Yes sir.” I started to play for him. But all I could see was my holding Cybil’s hand. As I sang the song, tears streamed down my face. The pain from losing her was ebbing away. The gift she gave me of her love and joy at being my friend filled my heart. I sang for her. I sang for Coach Finklestein. I don’t know why, but as I was crying, I was celebrating their lives and how they changed me for the better.

After I was done, there were a lot of sniffles from the congregation. I could tell that I touched his wife and kids.

“That was beautiful Jackie!” said Rabbi Cohen. “Can you tell me what you would say to Coach Finklestein if he were to listen to you play again.”

I blew my nose and dabbed away tears. “I would say thank you for taking a brief moment out of your day to show me that following my talents helps others. Without his encouragement, I might never have started to try singing. Without his encouragement, I might never have been a friend to a precious girl dying of cancer when she needed me most. Without his encouragement, I might never have been brave enough to become who I am today. I owe him so much.”

Rabbi Cohen turned to the congregation and said, “A small part of Coach Finklestein’s living Mitzpah is here in this room and around our community. We will never know how many lives he touched. We only have this little glimpse of his good works in a beautiful and talented girl whom he coached in life with his words of encouragement just as he did for hundreds of boys over thirty years of coaching football.”

On the drive home, Robert turned to me and commented, “You did well, Pips. You are turning into a beautiful young lady. I am sorry I have to drop you off and head back to school. I love you.”

I leaned up against him as he drove me home. “I love you too, Robert.” I could tell he saw me as a young lady and had no problem in accepting me as anything else but a young lady. In fact, the way he said it, I could tell he didn’t want Samuel to return any more than I did.

After he dropped me off, I entered our home. I began to realize that I needed to grow up now. In front of me were going to be the toughest months of my young life.

It was time to say goodbye to Doug, Debbie, and Jane. It was time for me to move on from my work with the police.

I wandered into the kitchen and began to help Mom and Grandma prepare dinner.

A little later, Connie came over to help me try on a new flapper outfit she had found for me that made me look more curvy. We went upstairs.

I stepped out of my dress and was in just bra and panties. Connie giggled at how much like a girl I looked.

“I can see the line of the breast forms. Why don’t you take off your bra. I have a sports bra here that will give you a better fit for the dress since you can’t wear a camisole with it.”

As I took off my bra, my right breast form fell off. Connie picked it up and then stared at my chest. It was clear that I was beginning to bud and my aerola was changing. It was protruding, darker, and much larger than what a boy should have.

I turned red. I didn’t know what to say. At that moment, Jane, who had heard what happened from the hallway, came in.

“Let’s get that glued back on Samantha.”

While she made small talk with Connie about the new outfit as she glued back on my appliance, I could see that Connie was slowly putting two and two together.

After Connie left the room, Connie said without making eye contact with me, “I think we need to to convince the girls at Canterbury that you are a girl so they don’t associate you with Samuel.”

She stopped for a moment as if she was going to say something to me. She looked at me. Concern and worry was in her eyes. She shook her head for a moment and then continued, “I was going to suggest that you do a couple of songs at the prep rally. And, I would also suggest that you do an exit that any girl would love to have.”

I silently nodded not knowing what to say. I was afraid she might ask the question that hung in the air about what she just saw.

“I was thinking you should exit using the last dance from Dirty Dancing.” She looked away for a moment. “What do you think?”

It bothered me that she couldn’t keep eye contact with me. I meekly replied, “Yes, I would like that.”

“Good. I have to go now. My mom’s waiting for me out front now.”

I walked her to the front door to say goodbye. She stopped, closed her eyes, and said, “I don’t know how to handle this.”

“I understand.” I began to tear up. She glanced at me as if I confirmed her worst suspicions. She tried to smile but I could read the confused emotions in her face.

The door closed and Connie was gone.

I ran upstairs, buried my head in a pillow, and cried myself to sleep.

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