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He usually didn't notice the hum. The constant sound coming from the overhead lighting was always there, as normal as the sound of his own breathing. So when the timbre of the white noise changed, it was all the warning he needed. Without any conscious decision being made, he flicked down and tapped the save button, just as the power died. Just in time. Again.

Life during wartime. Life on the losing side during wartime. A quiet, nervous laugh escaped his throat. A thought like that, spoken aloud, could have him executed for crimes against the state. He rolled his eyes at his own folly. The new reality was that the state was rapidly losing its ability to enforce anything. And if he didn't finish his work soon, a bullet in the brain might seem like a blessing.

The alienplague. Planet by planet, star by star, they had swarmed through the heavens. Nothing stopped them. Shit, nothing they tried had even slowed them down. These outer colonies were their final stand. The weapon system he was working on was really their last chance. Two years ago, when he first proposed it, no one took him seriously. But as the alienplague spread, their options dwindled. They took him serious now. Any port in a storm as they say, and the alienplague was a hurricane.

"Doctor Embel, are you okay in there? The power went out again." The corporal had a penchant for stating the obvious. It was his way of dealing with the stress.

"Yes Corporal, I can see that. Is there anything you can do to get it back on?" Being next-to-useless in a crisis situation was what had had the corporal assigned to this backwater outpost in the first place. But he did have his strong points. Making broken things work. And scavenging. Very valuable skills under the present circumstances.

Embel leaned back in his chair, massaging his forehead. What he wouldn't give for one good night's sleep. In his own bed... sleep. The dim glow of the emergency lighting, the silence and his exhaustion all worked together to push him into a fitful slumber.

-----

"Doctor Embel, I've read through the outline you provided to the members of this committee. I have to say it seems somewhat far-fetched. Transporting a weapon anywhere using this technology just doesn't seem possible."

Embel found it difficult to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "Doctor Melia, that's correct. This technology could not be used to transport solid matter."

Melia nodded. "And you write here that the limited energy that could be directed through this device couldn't possibly be strong enough to do any significant damage to anything. Could you explain to us then, if we did provide the necessary resources to build this system, how could it possibly be of any use against the alienplague?"

Embel took a deep breath. "Doctor Melia, I agree that the energy directed through this system would only be capable of causing minor changes on a molecular level. At first glance, that might appear to render this system useless as a weapon. But its weakness is actually its strength. The low power involved allows for extremely accurate control. Control in not just three dimensions, but four."

None of the four panel members seemed to understand the significance of Embel's words. He knew he was losing them, so he dumbed it down. "Gentlemen, we would be able to manipulate matter on a microscopic level, anywhere, any time."

The bureaucrat on Melia's right spoke for the first time. "Doctor Embel, how could that affect the course of the war? This technology might be able to make some of the enemy ill. It might even kill some of them. But we couldn't possibly mass produce enough of these things to equip even one percent of our forces.""

Embel was finding it difficult to remain calm. Government types... they think along such narrow lines. It's amazing anything ever gets done. "Gentlemen, we would only need one device."

Melia looked up from his scribbling. "Doctor Embel?"

Now he had their attention. "Research conducted on enemy corpses has revealed that they propagate in a rather unusual way. The alienplague actually consists of two distinct species, and successful reproduction must begin with a coupling between two individuals; one from each species." He paused, expecting an interruption, but it never came. "The two species, although distinct, are actually very similar. In fact, without careful examination, they are almost indistinguishable from each other. Post mortem tests have shown..."

Melia was losing patience. "Could you skim past the anatomical details, doctor, and explain how constructing one device could help us?"

"Certainly. We could use that one device to rearrange a few molecules in the alienplague chromosomes, and almost instantly, they would all be the same species. They would no longer be capable of reproduction. They would age without bearing young, and eventually they would go extinct."

The room grew silent as Embel's last words echoed off the stark walls. Melia gathered himself and asked the obvious. "Doctor Embel, do we know the lifespan of the alienplague?"

"It has been estimated at somewhere between eighty and one hundred years."

Melia spoke slowly, as if talking to a simpleton. "So if we approved construction of the device, and somehow managed to succeed in altering the species of billions of the enemy at the same time, we would still have to struggle against them for another one hundred years, until they all died off?"

Although he appeared stoic, Embel was giddy. He had been waiting for Melia to ask that very question. "Gentlemen, the beam generated by the weapon is not chronometrically restricted. We can aim it anywhere, any time. We can target their home world, two thousand years in the past. Long before they learned to leave their tiny planet. They would become extinct many centuries before they could become the menace they are today."

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Embel was aware that he was being nudged. He was in that place between dreams and reality, where the two blend together. He was at home, having dinner with his son. But it was odd... he didn't understand why his son was calling him Doctor Embel. And his voice had changed. He sounded just like the corporal.

"Doctor Embel, wake up. Doctor Embel." He slowly opened his eyes to see the corporal. He looked worried. "Doctor Embel, you fell asleep. I have the power back on."

"Yes, I can see that corporal."

"And Doctor Melia is here." The corporal lowered his voice. "He doesn't look happy, sir."

The cobwebs were suddenly gone from his mind. "Melia? He's here? Now?"

"Yes sir. He's in your office."

This couldn't be good news. Melia had never set foot on this colony before, much less in this lab. Things must be moving faster than he thought. Without a word to the corporal, Embel got up and hurried toward his office.

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Melia was sitting behind Embel's desk, stone faced. "Ah, Doctor Embel. Come in, close the door please." The room was small; Embel couldn't help but notice that Melia hadn't bathed in days. "Doctor Embel, how long before your weapon is ready?"

Blunt. No political doublespeak. Things must be very bad indeed.

"The weapon system itself is ready for testing. It has been ready for a few weeks now. The only hold up is the constant power interruptions. The corporal is doing his best to stabilize the situation, but..."

"Doctor Embel, we need to use the weapon as soon as possible. Today. Now."

"That's not possible! Without the proper calibration tests, it could..."

"Doctor. Stop. Listen to me. I just came here from Angor Prime. It's gone. The entire planet, destroyed."

Embel didn't notice himself sitting down. "That means they'll be here..."

Melia finished for him. "Yes... in hours." He paused just long enough to let Embel hitch in a breath. "Now, Doctor Embel. We need to go down stairs and do whatever needs to be done to fire the weapon now."

Embel slowly lifted his gaze to look Melia in the face. The clarity of thought that comes with routine suddenly washed over him. "Yes, Doctor Melia. You're right, the weapon." Without another word, they both rose and made their way down to the lab.

-----

Embel surprised himself. His voice was steady and clear. "Doctor Melia, there is a good chance that this will work... if the power remains stable." Glancing past Melia, Embel made eye contact with the corporal. His assistant was shaking his head. He went on anyway. "The beam depends entirely on the power supply. If it fails before the weapon is charged to full capacity, we'll still be able to get off a shot. But it won't be wide enough to affect their entire home world."

"I understand, Doctor. I've read the reports. Even a partial hit might change their history enough to stop them before they get started." Melia looked directly in Embel's eyes. "Now let's fire this weapon and force the alienplague... what do they call themselves?"

The corporal spoke up. "Hu-mans. They call themselves hu-mans."

"Thank you, corporal. Let's push these hu-mans into extinction."
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It never got old. The completely mundane things in life became absolutely thrilling, simply by tossing in a little cross dressing. If I had been wearing my "normal" clothing, nothing about the interaction would have seemed memorable. The scruffy looking man with the long greasy hair had no idea that he was part of a moment that I would remember for the rest of my life. He only did what panhandlers do; he asked for money.

"Excuse me Miss, I'm stuck downtown and I need bus fare to get home. Could you help me out?"

Dozens of thoughts raced through my mind, competing for dominance. Do I turn and walk away? Do I run? No, that would only make things worse. Women just do not run along the streets of downtown Boston in a skirt and three inch heels. Stay calm, stay calm... Wait a minute, he said "Miss". Is it possible he hasn't read me yet. Maybe. Just act like you would any other day. You should be able to get off one word in a woman's voice. Okay, here goes.

Shrug shoulders. Make eye contact. Raise eyebrows.

"Sorry." Keep moving girl... that's it, one foot in front of the other.

"Thanks anyways, Miss."

Calmly walking away, I was screaming inside my head. I can't believe I'm pulling this off. He didn't read me. In broad daylight, no less.

-----

I knew that I was a cross dresser before I was old enough to know the word. Some of my earliest memories involved wanting to be like my sisters. I didn't want to be a girl, I just wanted to be pretty like a girl. In my teens, whenever I was alone in the house, I would be going through wardrobes, trying things on. It was amazing that I never got caught. Occasionally my sisters would notice something had been worn, but they would always accuse each other of stealing their clothes. I would just keep my head down, grin to myself and watch the fireworks.

When I got my own apartment, that's when I started getting serious. It wasn't just stolen moments in borrowed clothes. Wigs, make-up and full body shaves became a big part of my life. Leaving the safety of my own four walls began with drunken two a.m. stumbles through the hallways of the apartment building. I would wake up the next morning hung over, still dressed and furious with myself for going out looking so awful, always muttering "never again."

After dozens of such episodes, I realized that there would be no stopping myself. If I couldn't stop "Lora" from going out, I might as well accept it and stop "Lora" from going out looking like a drunk guy in a wig. That meant lots of practice with make-up, losing some weight and buying a few outfits which were a little more situation-appropriate. And no liquid courage.

Living on the sixteenth story of a busy downtown complex meant that getting Lora in and out of the building unseen was probably not going to happen. So that left one option: Halloween. Months of preparation went into that one magical evening each year. Not once did anyone bat an eye as Lora rode the elevators, walked calmly through the crowded lobby and into the night.

Each little success built my confidence. Stops at lonely ATM's, mail boxes and public telephones led to window shopping and the ocassional stroll through the local malls.

After several years of this, I started feeling that one night of being Lora each year was not enough. Seeing as my living arrangements were the problem, I moved. A house on a quiet street in the suburbs suddenly gave me the ability to come and go as I pleased. Sometimes I would spend an entire week of vacation in drag, going out at night and filming myself doing run-of-the-mill things. And everything filmed went straight to youtube. The feedback there gave me almost as much of a rush as getting dressed and going out. Almost.

I got dressed and went out so often, it started to become routine. And routine led to boredom. The thrill was fading. I decided to bump it up a notch. Daylight. That was the next frontier to be crossed. Downtown Boston in daylight. The light of day was just the thing to spice up what was becoming ho-hum, and doing it downtown meant that Lora wouldn't look out of place in a skirt and heels. Looking forward to that sent a chill up my spine.

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I was no more than ten steps away from the panhandler when it happened. The world around me went white. It wasn't like a flash of bright light that would make you squint. No, it was more as if everything in the world suddenly changed color, everything became the same shade of white. The sidewalk, the people, the buildings, the sky; every single thing became indistinguishable from everything else.

It's funny how your mind can take in information it doesn't understand, and then instantly make up a story to explain it. My mind told me "Oh, I've gone blind. So this is what it looks like when you're blind. Strange how it's all white, not dark." And as quickly as that thought was finished forming in my mind, it was over. The white was gone, like nothing had happened. No spots in my vision, no moment for my eyes to adjust back to normal. To tell you the truth, I was actually wondering if it had just been a trick of my eyes.

I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed it, or if it was just in my head. I looked back toward the panhandler, but he was gone. Standing in the spot where I expected to see him was a confused, scared looking young girl. She was dressed like he had been, but the clothes were far too big for her. Where the hell did she come from?

She was trembling, looking at me with a question on her face. The cross dresser in me began to worry... what if she starts yelling? A young girl standing on the sidewalk screaming was just the thing to attract a lot of attention. I began to feel a panic coming on. All I could think about was moving away from her before she started causing a scene.

Two steps was as far as I got; my feet walked right out of my shoes. Wasn't that the damdest thing? I had bought those shoes on-line, and the first time I tried them on I was disappointed to find that they were tight. Not crippling tight, just uncomfortable tight. But they were the perfect match for the business-type skirt suit I had on, so I wore them anyway. And now there they were, standing there on the sidewalk .

Squatting down to pick them up, I saw these little glossy pink flakes scattered around. Seeing my hand as I reached to pick up one of the flakes, I managed to put two and two together. The polish was gone from my finger nails. It had just fallen right off, and there it was in little finger nail shaped pieces, lying on the cement.

Sitting on my haunches, looking at my shoes and nail polish, I didn't really notice that people were starting to wander out of the buildings. The hush that had frozen the world was starting to melt. Someone across the street started screaming. That broke me out of my daze.

Panicking cross dresser's mission number one took over: get back to my car. I just left my shoes standing there on the sidewalk and made tracks. Get to the car, get to the car... that thought crowded everything else out of my mind. The two minutes it took me to walk-jog-trot back to the car were surreal. The urgency I felt was difficult to keep under control. I didn't even notice that I was barefoot.

Everyone everywhere had been affected. A courrier was on the curb next to a bicycle, blood trickling from a gash on her forehead. She was just sitting there, staring at the blood on her hands. A young woman with a shaved head was on her knees beside a hot dog cart, staring at her reflection in the chrome. An oriental girl in a very large T-shirt was standing on the corner with her jeans in a pile around her ankles, unashamedly examining herself. Dozens of cars had rolled into things or each other, the drivers mostly oblivious to the damage.

Once I was safely inside the cocoon of my car, my approaching panic began to subside. I took a deep breath and that's when I noticed that my bra was unusually tight. In fact, it was down-right painful. A quick glance down at my chest answered the question of why. Through my blouse and jacket, I could see that my silicone breast forms looked massive. My bra was bursting. I undid the top two buttons on my blouse, reached in and pulled out the forms.

Even though I instantly felt much more comfortable, it dawned on me that I didn't feel normal. One more undone button and my blood ran cold. There were breasts in my bra. Real, honest-to-goodness breasts. I reached into the blouse and poked the left one. Poked it hard. It hurt. When I pulled away, there was a white mark on the skin where my finger had been. As I watched the white mark fade to pink, I was snapped back into the real world by the sound of an approaching siren. Several approaching sirens.

My mind kicked into high gear. Something big is happening here, and the police are on their way. They're going to be stopping people, looking for witnesses, asking questions. Like any cross dresser who has ever ventured out in public, I had a knee-jerk reaction. I did not want to be stopped by the police while wearing women's clothing. The knowledge that I had just discovered a pair of flesh and blood breasts in my bra was forgotten. Instinct took over. I pushed up my sleeves, started the car and put it in gear. With my stocking foot trembling on the gas pedal, I started to move.

-----

The drive home was a blur. To this day, I can't remember a single detail about it. I might as well have been riding in the trunk of my own car. One moment I was in the parking lot downtown, and the next thing I knew I was sitting in the car with my garage door closing behind me.

A lot of what we do is based on superstition. Hockey players won't shave during the playoffs; baseball players have a routine about stepping into the batter's box. Me, I always uttered the same phrase while that garage door was closing... Well Lora, you made it home safe again. So in spite of the lunacy of the past hour, habit kicked in and I began "Well Lora."

That's as far as I got. Three little syllables were all that came out before I stopped. That wasn't my voice. Over the years, I had worked hard at being able to sound like a woman, with some success. But on my best day, I didn't sound anything like the voice that had just come out of my throat. That shocked me into taking inventory.

I pulled down the sun visor, opened up the mirror, and looked into the eyes of a very surprised girl. As if it had a mind of its own, my hand reached up and rubbed her cheek. It felt greasy. I looked down at my hand and saw the tips of my tiny fingers were smeared with pressed powder and blush, mixed in with a healthy dose of nervous sweat.

Since that day, a lot of people have asked me about that moment. I like to think that I have a well rounded vocabulary, but I've never really been able to do it justice. The best I've ever come up with is this; it was like looking at myself wearing an extremely life-like mask, except I didn't have a clue I was wearing that mask until I saw it in the mirror.

I'm proud of the fact that I can keep my cool in a crisis. I once gave CPR to a co-worker while the other ten people in the room just stood there looking lost. But that was training kicking in. This was different. My mind had no frame of reference for this situation. I just sat there looking at that young girl's face staring back at me from the mirror.

After what must have been five or ten minutes, a coherent thought suddenly burst through the confusion and rushed to the front of my mind... maybe the face and breasts weren't all that had changed. And along with that thought came the realization that the ever-present discomfort of tucked genitals was no longer ever-present. Denial took over. If you don't confirm a truth, then it's not yet a truth. I reached over for my purse, got out of the car and padded into the house.

Once in my living room, the sight of the television spurred a train of thought. There'd been a lot of commotion going on downtown. Maybe this didn't just happen to me. The white flash, the screaming, the sirens... there had to be something on the news about all this.

Plopping down on the floor in front of the couch, I pulled my knees up under my chin and turned on the TV. I shouldn't have been surprised to find them reporting it on the first channel that came on. I was right; this was a big deal. They didn't have much in the way of details, but what they already knew was enough to make them interrupt whatever they had on.

They were showing footage taken from a camera perched at the top of their broadcast tower. My god, the flash looked like a small nuclear bomb exploding. Slow motion showed it starting in one place and then expanding until you couldn't see a large chunk of downtown. And then it was gone; it just popped like a soap bubble. There was no damage, no debris in the air, not even any smoke. Nothing.

After running a loop of that a few times, they showed a shot of the national guard setting up a road block on Congress Street. The announcer was saying that an "unknown event" had occurred involving a ten block area of downtown Boston. Until the nature of the event was discovered, all people inside the affected area were being quarantined and were being asked to make their way to city hall.

The phone rang, scaring the begeebers out of me. Muscles that I wasn't accustomed to having went loose, letting a few drops of pee leak out of me. I ignored the phone, deciding that now was as good a time as any. I had to bite the bullet... I had to get out of these clothes and find out... find out... I didn't know what I was going to find out.

Forcing myself to get up and walk down the hallway to my bedroom was hard; real hard. But I don't really recall doing it. What I do remember clearly is the sound of the little spark that zapped me when my hand touched the doorknob. I remember thinking "well, Lenny, I guess that proves you're not dreaming."

Directly across the bedroom from the door was my full length mirror. (I know, I know... single guy, full length mirror? I was a cross dresser, remember?) My first impression of the reflection in that mirror was "she looks like a girl trying on her mother's work clothes." I walked up to the mirror, reached up and pulled off my wig. I knew it would be easy to freeze up, to start losing it, if I kept staring at her, so I turned my back to the mirror and got busy undressing. Jacket, skirt, blouse... that was as far as I got before I let myself peek over my shoulder at the mirror.

"Oh shit oh shit; just don't look." Without looking down, I peeled off my pantyhose, padded panties and bra. At that point, I didn't really need to confirm anything, but I did need to look. I sucked in a deep breath and turned to face the mirror's brutal honesty. A terrified young girl, wearing nothing but too much make-up, was staring back at me.

"Oh shit oh shit ohSHIToh shit... how the hell is this even possible?" After a quick scan from head to toe, I tumbled onto the bed and curled up in a ball.

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Okay folks, first time author here. How am I doing so far? I proof read it a couple of times, but I'm sure that I missed a bunch of lulus.

In AJ James' novella The Long Strange Journey of Seth Gates, he didn't explain what caused the "transformation event" in downtown Boston. In fact, at the end of the story, he invited other authors to create their own explanations. This story's prologue is my humble attempt to do just that.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and I hope you'll continue reading... amazing things happen to Lenny as he learns to live as Lora.

Please take the time to comment once is a while. You wouldn't believe how something as simple as "Thanks, good story" can brighten up an entire day for a writer.

If you're at all curious about me, I wasn't kidding about filming myself and posting it on youtube.
You can check out my videos by clicking here.

Feel free to drop by and say hi!

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I didn't want to move; I didn't want to think. I just wanted to lay there and ignore reality. But the world keeps turning, and it always finds a way to drag us along with it. As it does every day, the sun crept across the sky. Shining through the bedroom window, the light inched its way across the bed until it started warming my toes. It felt good as it moved to the the soles of my feet, but once it reached my naked butt, it started to become uncomfortable. Being curled up in a ball on my side, there was no way to just pull away without moving my entire body. I gave in, rolling over and stretching out flat on my back. The trill of the phone beside my head scared another little trickle of pee out of me.

"Dammit, that's gotta stop!" With my mind occupied by the frustration of my mild incontinence, I picked up the phone and barked "Hello."

"Uh, hi... is ah... is Len there?" I couldn't tell whether Jessie was baffled or worried that a young woman had answered her brother's phone.

I held my breath for a moment. Jessie could be a bit of a loose cannon, so she wouldn't have been the first person I would call to talk this over with. But what the hell. She was on the phone, and I had to start somewhere.

"Jessie, it's me."

"Me who?"

"It's me, Lenny." I knew we were both holding our breath now. I blinked first. "I was downtown this morning..."

"Honey, I don't have time for this right now. Could you just put Lenny on the phone, OK?"

Maybe it was my sister's doubt. Maybe it was the stress. Or maybe it was my reaction to a whole new system of chemistry going on in my head. But just then, something made the dam burst. My jaw started trembling as I tried to get words out between spasms of breath.

"Jess I don't know what happened I was downtown and a light flashed and everything went white and a bum looked like she was gonna start screaming so I ran back to my car and... something happened to me Jess."

"Len?"

"Yeah. It's me."

"My god, Lenny, you were there? Oh Len..." Her voice cracked. She stopped, took a deep breath, and then announced "Stay right there, I'm coming over."

"No! You can't do that!"

"Why not? Ben's still away but the girls'll be fine. They can order a pizza..."

"Oh, Jess. Please." It was a struggle to get words out, but she had enough of a feel for the situation to wait until I could make my point. "You can't come here. Something... I don't know what happened and it might... I'm fine, I just need to think about what to do."

"Lenny, it's been on TV all day." I could hear she was scared. "They're not saying much, just that they've quarantined everyone who was there when that bomb went off. Are you sure you're Ok? I mean, your voice? It's, like..."

My god, she didn't know. How could she know? "I'm Ok. Uh, I think I am, anyway. I'm not hurt and I don't feel sick or anything like that. I just... it's complicated Jess, but I'm OK." Another deep breath, and I came to a decision. "If they're keeping people downtown, I think maybe I should just go back down there."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. On TV they keep showing shots of the crowds around the roadblocks. People trying to find out what's happening. I don't know if you could get in there." She had a point.

"Ok, well then I'll start making some calls. I'm sure I'm not the only one who was there and left before they blocked the roads."

"Alright. Call me back before you do anything. Are you sure you're Ok?"

"I'm fine. I'll call. OK?"

After a few more assurances, she let me hang up. I didn't want to worry her any more than she already was, so I didn't tell her that my first call would be to 9-1-1. But first things first. The make-up I put on that morning was still on my face. And I wasn't about to call anyone until I at least found some underwear to put on.

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"You have reached the 9-1-1 emergency response center. All of our operators are busy. If you are calling regarding someone who you believe is inside the Boston Quarantine Area, please tune to your local radio or television news for information. If you were affected by the event and you are not inside the Boston Quarantine area, please report to the nearest police station for transportation to the temporary care center located at Boston City Hall. If you are reporting any other police, fire or medical emergency, please stay on the line. An operator will be available to answer your call in ---twenty--- ---two--- minutes."

I hung up. Well, at least there was a clear path laid out in front of me now. Official instructions on where to go, what to do. Confirmation from the bureaucracy that they know something has happened to me and that I need help.

Back in my bedroom, I stood in a pair of jockey shorts, looking through the open drawers of my dresser. Seeing as my options were rather limited, it wasn't too difficult to choose what to wear. I hadn't been a very large man, but not many of the clothes that fit me before were of much use to me now. The best I could do was a pair of track pants, a T-shirt and a hoodie. A pair of tennis shoes with a few paper towels stuffed in the toes completed the look. Picking up my wallet, keys and phone, I hopped in the car and... sat staring through the windshield. "Lenny boy, if you can find the nerve to walk around in public with your family jewels tucked away under a skirt, then this should be no big deal. They know what happened to you, right?" I wasn't really buying my own spiel, but what choice did I have? It took a good five minutes of meditation and psyching myself up before I pressed the button to open the garage door. A couple of deep breaths and I was off.

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"Hey Jess, it's me."

"Oh my god, Lenny, it's about time. I was just about to call you back. I called Kelly and told her what happened. She's bouncing off the walls. She said she tried to call you but there was no answer."

I should have known she'd call Kelly. The symbiosis of sisterhood. One of them simply cannot survive knowing something without instantly telling the other.

"I'm not at home. I'm at the police station on Concord. They said I should show up here and they'd give me a ride downtown."

"Len, she's really worried and I am too. Please tell me what's going on."

"Jess, please... I'm Ok. Really. I'm perfectly healthy, at least I feel like I am. Please just let me deal with this and I'll call you when I can. OK?"

"Alright. You're an adult. You don't really sound like one but..."

"You're a regular riot, Jess. Listen, call Kelly, calm her down, tell her I'll call both of you when I can. I gotta go, OK?" I know it was a bit cruel to leave them in the dark like that, but how do you tell your family something like this? I guess at that point, I was still hoping that this "change" was going to somehow wear off.

There were a pair of cops standing outside the front doors of the Belmont Police station, wearing surgical gloves and respirators. They took one look at me approaching and the one on the right just pointed his neoprene index finger at a large tent set up in the parking lot. "Go right on inside over there, Miss."

Raising my eyebrows, all I got out was "I was downtown..." before the other one interrupted me.

"We know." Pointing at the tent again, he added "They'll take care of you in there."

Over the years, I had spent a lot of time watching how women and men do things differently. There are literally dozens and dozens of little contrasts; some obvious, most of them subtle. I had become a somewhat passable cross dresser by working really hard at imitating those feminine traits. Something else I had put a lot of effort into was making damn sure that I didn't display my "girly tics" unless I was in drag (a guy just does not wiggle his butt walking around the grocery store!) Walking up to those cops, I wasn't in drag and wouldn't have felt right acting like I was. So I suppose it was no great surprise that they knew why I was there simply by looking at my gait. That plus my hair, my complete lack of make-up and jewelery and my four-sizes-too-big sweat pants. But as sure as they were about me, that cop still couldn't bring himself to call me sir. Well, at least they were calm and courteous.

There was a hand written sign hanging beside the entrance to the tent. BUBBLE AFFECTEES ONLY. So that's what they were calling it, the bubble. How cute. And I was an "affectee". It seemed to me that the powers that be had decided to use warm and fuzzy language to avoid creating a panic in the general population. I pulled the flap aside and stepped into the first three days of my new life.

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Being a pair of rookies, the two young policemen had drawn the day's lousiest duty. Standing on your feet in one spot all day would be bad enough, but doing it while wearing respirators made it torture.

"That short one in the track suit... she makes it a hundred, right?"

"One oh four by my count." He leaned in closer to his partner. "Cutest one yet. Did you get a load of the body on her?"

"Miller, you've got a one track mind." He took a quick look around, then added, "But you're right. God damn, I just can't believe that was a guy this morning."

-----

She looked up. "Hi, come on in and have a seat right here. I'll be with you in two shakes of a dog's leg." Her bright, chipper attitude was in total contrast to the way she was dressed. Her face was the only part of her that was visible through the plastic window of her haz-mat suit. She had dialed down the serious nature of the situation by putting a smiley face sticker on the side of her hood. Below that was a label which read, "Hi, my name is CAROL."

I sat down in a chair beside her desk. After a few more clicks on her lap-top, she turned her attention to me. "Are you feeling OK?"

"Other than the obvious, I feel pretty good. A bit of dizziness once in a while, but..."

"That's pretty common. Can you push up your sleeve for me and we'll get a few basics out of the way?" She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my little bicep and pushed a button on a monitor. A hum started and the cuff inflated. "Can I get your full name?"

"Leonard Michael Williams."

A few taps on her keyboard, then "Date of birth?"

"February twenty-ninth, nineteen seventy-two."

Smiling through her plastic shield, she offered "Well, Mister Williams, isn't this one heck of an early birthday present?"

Through a crooked grin, I came back with, "You could have just got me a tie. And call me Lenny."

"OK Lenny, height and weight?"

"Well I used to be five-eight and a hundred-fifty pounds. I don't have a clue what I am now."

"That's Ok, they'll check that out downtown. So, where exactly were you when it happened?" She didn't need to explain what she meant by "it".

I had never admitted to a soul in the world that I liked to slap on a skirt once in a while, and I wasn't about to start now. I didn't want to have to explain why I had run away so fast that morning... so I lied to her. "I was waiting on a red light. I'm pretty sure I was at Tremont and Bromfield."

Her machine stopped humming and the cuff on my arm started deflating. There was a steady beep that I assumed was my pulse. "Well Lenny, from what I've been told, you were right on the edge of it. If that red light had been green, you probably wouldn't have any reason to be here right now."

I tilted my head, raised my eyebrows and quipped "Well, Carol, some people get all the luck."

She smiled again. Her cheerfulness, her light banter and the way she was treating all this as perfectly normal was going a long way towards keeping me calm. They must teach this stuff at natural disaster school, I thought to myself.

"OK Lenny, we're all done here. Just go on through that door right there and have a seat. A bus will be around in a few minutes."

-----

I took a seat in the next room. There were about forty girls scattered in the fifty-odd available chairs. They ranged in age from around fourteen to eighteen years old. One glance around the room and it wasn't hard to guess at how each of them had woken up that morning. A group of five were sitting together, chatting away while their thumbs flashed over the buttons on their phones. Their hair, make-up and well put together outfits identified them as being teen girls who just happened to be downtown this morning. Almost half of the rest of the girls in the room were wearing women's clothing of one style or another, sitting with legs and arms crossed. No doubt that they were women who had been caught in the bubble. The rest of us fell into the third category; guys like me. We all looked like we were dressed for sloppy day at the girl's school. Our ill-fitting clothes, bad posture and men's hair cuts said it all. We were the "affectees" who had the most to deal with. Other than the chatty-Cathys in the corner, everyone was lost in their own thoughts. Some quietly crying, most of us just silently existing in our heads.

-----

Two things ruined it for me. I could have fooled myself into thinking that it was just another perfectly normal day; that I was getting on that bus to go to a Pats game or something. But word must have gotten out. A television news crew had set up with their camera about fifty feet away, filming us as we walked the twenty steps from the tent to the bus. That in itself was unusual, I'd never been on TV before. But then there was the bus driver. He was wearing a haz-mat suit just like Carol. I was definitely not on my way to Foxboro.

Taking a window seat, it wasn't long before a girl sat down beside me. She stuck out her hand and said, "Hi, George Garneau."

I shook her hand. "Len Williams. Call me Lenny."

"Pleased to meet you Lenny. Any theories on what the hell happened to us?"

"Yeah, I heard something, but you gotta keep it to yourself." I glanced around to make sure no one else could hear me, then whispered, "I have it on good authority that the Salem witches have come back to life. They're pretty pissed, and they're taking it out on us." I glanced around again, then whispered "Mums the word." We both burst into quiet giggles. Once it started, there was no stopping it. It felt so good to laugh. I leaned back into my seat and looked up at the ceiling. With a smile on my face and a tear rolling down my cheek, I turned and asked, "Shit George, what the hell are we gonna do?"

George just smiled back at me and said "Make lemonade." When I didn't respond, she went on. "Lenny, I'm sixty-eight years old. My heart was so bad, I was out of breath just taking a piss. Now look at me. I'm a kid again. I feel like a million bucks. So my dick is gone. I really don't care... I'll trade a useless dick for a good ticker any day. I've got my fingers crossed, Lenny. If this is a dream, then I don't want to wake up. Because I'm gonna watch my great-grand kids grow up." She wasn't just smiling. She was glowing.

I was never so glad to meet anyone in my life as I was to meet George on that bus. Make lemonade. That sounded like a fantastic idea.

==============================

Hi folks, still with me?
This took a while to write, and even though I enjoyed writing it, the truth is I was excited about the comments people might leave. I'll admit it, I'm a feedback junkie. So if you enjoyed reading this and would like to see me write more, please leave a comment. Please?
Oh, and a big thank you to everyone who took the time to comment on chapter one!

By Lora Guy
Cross dresser is caught up in a sudden, massive group transformation in downtown Boston.

"Len, this is gonna take some getting used to. You sound so damn... pretty."

The Boston Bubble: Lora's Story

Chapter 3

I was introduced to one of the little pleasures of being a member of the fairer sex right in the middle of the Charles river. Downtown was a crowded mess, what with the road closures, news people from everywhere and the just plain curious. After ten minutes of inching across the Longfellow bridge, I couldn't deny nature any longer. I got up, walked the ten feet to the back of the bus and for the first time in my life, I waited in line for a bathroom. What a joy.

When we finally got to the far end of the bridge, a police car opened up a hole for us and escorted us to the barricades. Inside the quarantine area, things moved a lot easier. There weren't many vehicles moving around; after all, who had anywhere to go? So within a few minutes, we were stepping off the bus into the confusion of city hall plaza.

Normally in any large scale emergency, the first response would come from the local police, fire and medical systems, all being coordinated through the city government. But city hall was smack in the middle of the bubble. The mayor and everyone who worked for him couldn't even recognize each other any more. So it was a bit of a surprise to see any kind of organization at all.

The plaza was a bee hive of teen girls milling about; some alone, others in small groups. Someone had put up a large hand-made sign beside the front door to city hall announcing "REGISTER HERE." I suppose they needed to start somewhere, and getting together a list of the people affected by this would be a bureaucrat's first instinct. At least two hundred girls were waiting in a long, snaking line, plus who-knew-how-many already inside. George and I walked half way there, saw the length of the line-up and stopped beside the entrance to a large Red Cross tent.

George shook her head, looked at me and said, "looks like this might take a while. Did you have any plans?" The sun was getting low in the sky, and it was already getting cold.

I looked at the Red Cross tent, then back at George. "I haven't eaten anything since this morning. We could probably get a meal in here and find out about a place to spend the night."

George gave me one of her big-eyed smiles. "I can do better than that. My sister has a place over on Province Street. She's been laid up in the hospital since she took a bad tumble a few days ago, so I've been coming down here to feed and water her cat. We could head over there, have a bite to eat and spend the night... That is, if you don't mind bunking down on the couch. It doesn't look like anyone here would miss us if we didn't show up until tomorrow."

"George, you sure know how to sweet talk a girl." We left bedlam behind and headed off down Tremont, making small talk as we walked.

"So tell me Lenny, how did you wind up out in Belmont this afternoon?"

"I used to live down here until a couple of years ago. I was planning on going for a walk around the old neighborhood, but 'it' happened before I got out of the car. I just panicked and drove straight home."

"Sounds like you must have been right on my bumper." George stopped walking and turned to face me, smiling. "Listen to this. I live with my daughter and her family out on Concord. When I pulled her father's car into the driveway looking like this, she came flying out the front door with her phone in one hand and a can of furniture polish in the other. She said she was going to spray me in the face if I didn't toss her the car keys and tell her what I did with her father. After half an hour of answering questions and two calls to 9-1-1, she still wouldn't let me in the house."

"What finally convinced her?"

"I asked her if she was still mad at me for wetting the bed last night." We both started giggling. Then she added, "Just one more reason why I'm not going to miss that useless dick."

I don't know why that seemed so funny to the two of us, but we both started laughing so hard, we had to lean on each other to keep from falling down.

Most of the businesses in the area were closed. I guess the people that worked in them either couldn't get here because of the road blocks, or if they were downtown, they had other things on their minds besides going in to work. But there were a few entrepreneurs who recognized an opportunity when they saw one. I noticed people inside a little hole-in-the-wall pub on Chapman, so I stopped and pulled the door open. It didn't take any effort at all to get George to follow me inside.

There were about a dozen girls scattered around the place. Walking up to the bar, I asked for a couple of Buds. The thirteen year old girl behind the bar asked in a little pixie voice, "You two twenty-one?"

George shot back, "Since before Viet Nam. And I want the seniors discount, dammit." That got us a smile and two beers.

Paying for the beers, I asked, "any chance of getting something to eat?"

"Cook called in sick. I hear there's some sort of bug going around." Smirking, she put a bowl of pretzels on the bar and added, "I've got some buns and cold cuts in the back. You want me to slap together a couple of sandwiches for you?"

"That sounds great." George smiled and tapped on her front teeth. "Been more than twenty years since I've had teeth in my mouth. Can't wait to try them out."

Sitting down at a table, my phone started ringing. I checked to see who it was, then told George, "I've gotta take this."

George got up. "I've gotta go powder my nose anyway."

I answered the phone. "Hi Kelly."

"Holy shit, it's true!"

"What's true?"

"On the news, they just said that everyone caught in the bubble this morning was turned into a girl, and no one has any idea how. I didn't believe it, who would? But they're not bull shitting, are they? It's not just your voice, is it?" I took a deep breath, thinking about how to say this, but I wasn't quick enough for Kelly. "Well, do I have a little sister?"

"Yeah, the news was right."

"Holy shit! Are you OK? Did it hurt?" Without letting me answer any of that, she popped out with, " Wait, what do you look like?"

"Kelly, listen. I don't know how long I'm going to be down here, and I don't have any way to charge up my phone. So I'm gonna make this quick, OK? I'm fine, I'm safe, I think everything is going to be OK. I'm a little shorter, but I haven't spent a lot of time in front of a mirror... I guess I look like me."

"So what the hell happened?"

"I don't know much more than anybody else. There was a flash of white, then it was done. I didn't feel anything, OK. Now listen, can you take care of the restaurant without me until I get done down here. It might be a day or two."

"Sure. Business was dead today anyway; I think everyone in town was staying home glued to their TV's."

"Okay, thanks. Can you call Jess and let her know I'm OK?"

"Will do. Oh, and Len, you sound... " She paused, as if thinking something over. "Len, this is gonna take some getting used to. You sound so damn... pretty."

"Aw, Kelly, do you really think I needed to hear that right now? Just take care of stuff and I'll see you as soon as I can, OK? I gotta go before I kill this battery."

We said our goodbyes just as George was sitting down. She looked at me and asked, "family?"

"Yeah. One of my sisters. I didn't really explain this to them, but she just heard on the news what happened to us. She was babbling away so much, it was hard to get a word in. I'm glad she called though. At least I know she's taking care of the business until I can get back."

"What business are you in?"

"I own a restaurant out in Belmont."

"Whereabouts... oh hey, you're that Lenny? Lenny's on Leonard?"

"Yeah, you know it?"

"Holy smoke yeah! I used to bring my grand daughters in there for a frappe every Thursday after school. Best damn frappes in Boston!"

"I think I remember you. The old guy with the two cute kids. One black cherry and two strawberries, right?"

"Yeah, that's us. Well ain't it a small world. I'm sitting here having a beer with 'the' Lenny."

"So what happened? I haven't seen you around in a while."

"Girls grew up. I guess going for ice cream with their Poppy wasn't at the top of their list of social occasions any more."

The pixie bartender walked over with our sandwiches and another round of beers. George pulled out his wallet. "This is on me." Handing a few bills to her, he added, "Keep the change, Honey."

The bartender looked down at George, pulled her lips tight and started nodding her head. "I guess I'm gonna have to get used to that. Enjoy." With that, she turned and left.

Maybe it was because I was so hungry, but that simple meal was incredible. Every taste, every texture... even the bread was alive in my mouth. It was as if I was eating everything for the first time. And in a way, I guess I was.

The amazing food and the smooth conversation just naturally led to the third, and then the fourth beers. Put that together with our suddenly smaller sizes, and I have to admit that George and I were quite drunk by the time we giggled our way through the door into her sister's place. As soon as we were in, the cat rushed over and started rubbing against my legs. I almost fell flat on my face trying to avoid stepping on it.

George snickered. "Sorry about that. I guess he's been a little lonely the last few days." Locking the door behind me, she continued "Sorry, Lenny, but I'm done in. I'll see if I can find you a blanket, then I'm going to hit the hay." She wobbled her way down the hall, hands touching the walls with each step.

I sat down on a bench beside the door and took off my shoes. Wiggling my toes, I just sat there fascinated by how tiny my feet were.

George came back and tossed a blanket and pillow on the couch. "The bathroom's down the hall and the kitchen is in the kitchen. Sorry, but you're on your own Lenny. I have a date with the sandman." And with that, she was gone.

I walked over to the couch and managed to pull off my hoodie and sweat pants before I plopped down and put my feet up on the coffee table. While I sat there contemplating those little feet at the end of my skinny legs, the cat jumped up on the couch and curled up in my lap. I started nodding off just sitting there like that, but the four beers had other ideas. Eventually, they ganged up on me and insisted that I get up and make my way down the hall.

As the toilet flushed, I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face. For the first time, I took a long hard look at myself in the mirror. "What in the world could do something like this?" The face looking back at me was pretty. Very pretty. It was the kind of face that looked perfect framed by my three inches of dark brown hair. I looked like I was about eighteen years old. I didn't mind losing a few years, but I sure didn't want to be treated like a kid again. Then the cross dresser in me stepped up and took over. Yeah, the right make-up and accessories and this face could pass for someone in their early twenties. I reached behind me and gathered up the slack in my T-shirt. Flat stomach, nicely shaped breasts, tiny waist, well proportioned hips, shapely legs... the kind of body that would look good in anything. All that, plus this winning smile... I whispered to myself, " Shit, you're going to have to beat them off with a stick. Make that two sticks." I really let that sink in for a moment. "Well isn't this just perfect, Lenny boy. You spend all your spare time trying to be pretty, and now that you're a knock out, you're not sure if it's such a great thing?"

I turned and sat back down on the toilet lid, resting my elbows on my knees. I let my mind wander over all of the things that I hadn't wanted to think about. How is everyone in my life going to react to this? Kelly and Jessie will probably try to act like it's no big deal. What about the girls? The most fulfilling thing in my life was my relationship with my nieces. How are they going to take it when I show up looking more like their sister than their uncle?

After twenty minutes of letting things stew in my mind, the reality of it came to me. I realized that what ever had the ability to change people like this could have done a million different things to me. So I guess being a good looking, healthy, intelligent woman wasn't such a bad thing to be. "Just stay positive and get on with it, Lenny old boy." I stood up and glanced in the mirror again. "Or maybe I should say Lora."

-----

I was lying naked on a beach. I wasn't worried about my nudity; I was the only person there. It was calm; no wind, no waves. A bird was circling silently in the blue sky, high above me. I was thirsty, but I wasn't thirsty enough to do anything about it. I was just enjoying the feeling of lying there with nowhere to go, nothing to do. The sun was shining on me, but it was pleasant. The heat of the sunlight started building a warmth in my belly, and then it slowly bled out into the rest of my torso. The air flowing in and out of my lungs was keeping me cool, so as I got warmer, I started taking deeper breaths. It helped, but the sunshine was becoming uncomfortable. My feet began to feel like they were burning, so I pulled my legs up and buried my feet in the sand. Face sweating, I threw my arms up over my eyes. My groin was becoming an oven now; pulses of heat rushing through my body. I had to open up and breathe through my mouth to keep from bursting into flames. I tried crying out for help, but words wouldn't come to me. I wanted the heat to stop; I didn't want the heat to stop. Heart pounding, I could hear the blood rushing through my veins. There wasn't enough air to keep me alive. With a deep moan and every ounce of strength I had, I forced my eyes to open.

Daylight. The cobwebs began to clear. This couch. The sister's place. Yesterday. I looked at my hand; still tiny. I lifted my head to look down at the rest of me and came face to face with the cat. He was just sitting there, gently purring away on my stomach, tail whisking back and forth between my legs. With a shudder I pushed him off, rolled over onto my side and sat up. Shit, if a cat could do that to me...

========================

Me before the bubble :-)

.
Hey folks. Lora the feedback addict here. Thanks for all of the wonderful comments so far; every one of them is a cherished treasure.

And again, I want to thank AJ James for creating this universe. Use this link to read the story that inspired me to start writing:

http://www.fictionmania.tv/stories/readtextstory.html?storyI...

And oh yeah, please don't forget to hit
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By Lora Guy

Cross dresser caught up in a sudden, massive group transformation in downtown Boston.

Calamities usually don't happen unless several mistakes to come together...

.
The Boston Bubble: Lora's Story
.

Chapter 4
.

Glowing with sweat, I just managed to catch my breath before George stumbled into the room, bleary-eyed.

"Are you OK? I thought I heard..."

"Nightmare." I made sure I had a serious look on my face and after a short pause for dramatic effect, I went on. "I dreamed I was fighting someone. A real knock-down, drag-out battle. But it was one of those dreams where it feels like your swimming in marshmallow. You know what I mean?"

George nodded. "Yeah."

"And nothing really makes sense..." She nodded again. "In the beginning, I had no idea why I was fighting with this woman, but then somehow I did know. She was pissed at me because..." I put a confused look on my face and pulled the trigger. "... because I wet the bed." George's eyes went wide. A giggle followed by a tiny "oh no" squeaked out of her as she turned and ran down the hall. As she slammed the bathroom door, I called out, "It was awful. She was spraying me with furniture polish."

Ignoring the commotion, the cat walked up and started rubbing his body on my leg. Leaning forward, I looked down at it. "I'll have you know I'm not that kind of girl." He looked up at me. "You have to understand, last night was a mistake. I drank too much." Unimpressed, the cat dismissed my misgivings and went back to rubbing himself against me. "I hope you'll at least have the decency to never mention last night again."

Sitting back, I reached up and rubbed my temples. I could feel the makings of a head ache coming on. From experience, I knew that I needed two things: water and caffeine. Getting up, I shuffled into the kitchen, filled the kettle half way and plugged it in. Then I started hunting. Water was easy; I just pulled a glass off of a shelf and chugged a couple of glass-fulls straight out of the tap. The coffee hunt wasn't quite so successful. I was still looking for a jar of instant when George came into the room.

"Lenny, I haven't felt like that since I was a little kid getting tickled. I'm going to need your word on something. Please don't do that to me unless I'm within five steps of a toilet."

"OK, promise. You have any idea where your sister keeps the instant?"

"You won't find any. She's a tea person." I turned and made a frown. George went on. "If we get ourselves in gear and head back over to city hall right now, there might not be a line up. And we can probably pick up a coffee and a bite at that Red Cross set-up."

"Sounds like a plan to me." I looked over at my hoodie and track pants folded beside the couch. "And if it looks like we're going to be staying here another night, I'm going to need to see if I can buy me some clean clothes. And a tooth brush."

-----

As we made our way back to city hall plaza, George was uncharacteristically quiet. "So what's on your mind?"

"Huh? Oh. I was just thinking about actually trying to fit into this world looking like this." She made a sweeping motion down the sides of her body. "As a teen aged girl, I mean. There are so many cliche things that I just don't want to find myself doing."

"I do think there's hope for us George."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this morning when I mentioned that I need to buy some clothes, neither one of us got excited by the idea of going shopping."

"Granted, but I"m still going to be watching for the symptoms of congenital girly-ness."

I thought for a moment. "You mean things like dotting your i's with a little heart?"

George smiled. "Exactly. In fact I hadn't thought of that one."

"So what is on your list?"

"Well, for starters, spending three hours a day sitting in front of a computer, updating my face-space page."

I chuckled at that, then offered up, "or how about bitching about the cold in January while refusing to wear a warm coat."

She nodded, then added, "or making one of those goddamn kissy faces every time someone points a camera at me."

Tipping my head slightly, I nodded my agreement. After about ten paces of deep thought, it came to me. "George, I can top all of those. Promise me, if you ever, ever hear me inviting someone to join me just because I need to go take a piss, then PLEASE pull out a gun and shoot me where I stand."

George stopped walking and turned to face me. Putting a hand on my shoulder, she said, "Sir, on that you have my word as a gentleman."

-----

Arriving back at the plaza, we could see that we were early; no one had shown up to unlock the building yet. Without any discussion, we let the morning chill push us into the Red Cross tent for that coffee.

There were about fifty girls seated around the place, but it didn't feel crowded. It was early yet, so there were no volunteers actually working. We made our way over to the far side of the tent where there was a table set up with hot coffee. A small sign announced HELP YOURSELF.

I poured us two cups, looked at George and asked, "Cream and sugar?"

A light bulb seemed to go off in her head. "You know, here's something I hadn't thought of yet. I don't know what the hell I like any more. I used to drink coffee black, but now I have a craving for something smoother. I think I'll try it with a splash of..."

-----

The truly awful things in life rarely occur due to one particular thing going awry. Calamities usually don't happen unless several mistakes come together at the same time and place.

When a nameless, faceless functionary contacted the local offices of the Red Cross to inform them of the state of emergency declared in downtown Boston, he was only following protocol. The person who received that call did what they were trained to do in an emergency; they organized a crew which was sent to erect and stock a mobile meal center in City Hall Plaza. When this crew arrived at the barricades on Congress Street, they were confronted by a young platoon of national guard troops with somewhat vague orders to stop anyone from passing. The Red Cross crew left the truck and its contents in the care of the troops, who moved it inside the barricades.

An hour later, a seventeen-ish looking girl in a rather loose fitting police officer's uniform showed up and drove the truck to the Plaza. There, she organized an ad hoc group of girls who did their best to erect the tent. When they were done, they were happy with the results. To a trained eye, the potential catastrophic failure would have been obvious, but there were no trained eyes among them. The king pins holding the frame of the tent together required the use of cotter pins to hold them in place, but few of the city hall workers who helped erect the tent had ever heard of a cotter pin; hence few were used.

When the tent was stocked by these same people, they thought they were being efficient by stacking the cardboard cartons of supplies immediately beside the cooking equipment, oblivious to the fire hazard they were creating.

This string of well meant actions all came together at the same time and place to make it possible for something awful to happen. Mother nature set things in motion by rattling the tent frame with a light, gusty breeze.

-----

Never having seen a king pin before, neither Lenny nor George recognized it for what it was when it bounced off of the table beside them and landed at their feet. They both looked down at the same time to see what had made the metallic ping on the concrete. George never had a chance. The aluminum frame member silently fell fifteen feet before it hit her on the top of her head. Lenny saw it dropping out of the corner of her eye and managed to protect her head by sacrificing her left arm. After bouncing off the two of them, the pole pushed a stack of boxes over, which in turn landed on the propane-powered hot plate. Two of the boxes immediately caught on fire; one containing emergency candles began burning quite vigorously.

Everyone else in the tent turned to look when the pole knocked over the boxes, so contrary to what you would expect, no one had to yell out "fire". They all just stood and hurried out the door on the far side of the tent, the last of the group nervously looking over her shoulder at the rapidly growing flames. Neither she, nor any of the other people leaving the tent noticed Lenny lying flat on her back with George sprawled out across her legs.

-----

For the second time that morning, I found myself waking up disoriented. I pushed my eyes open to see what was making all the noise. The sight of the flames licking at the side of the tent cleared my thoughts in a flash. I worked myself into a sitting position and found that I was looking down at an ugly gash on the top of George's head. So much blood... I was covered in it.

"George." No response. "Shit. George, get up!"

Nothing. Pieces of paper ash were floating around in the air. Sooty smoke was filling the dome of the tent. I swung my head around and saw where the door was. Good, nothing between us and there.

"OK George, we gotta go."

I pushed George up into a sitting position and held her there while I got on my haunches behind her. Wrapping my arms under hers and around her chest, I used the strength of panic-induced adrenaline to stand up. Then, glancing over my shoulder, I started dragging her the fifty feet to the exit. When we were about ten feet from the door, I heard the clang of another piece of the tent frame hitting the ground. The sagging roof pushed a gust of black, ash filled smoke past us just as I pulled George out through the door. I made it another ten feet before I fell on my butt, choking for breath, still hugging George. I remember sitting there, looking around at a crowd of surprised faces, thinking, "I wish they'd all look somewhere else, because I think I'm gonna puke."

-----

Mike Riley was an odd combination of a man. His friends and family saw an amiable, hard working, honest person. And he was. But Mike had a private hobby that he kept to himself.

Mike supported himself selling, installing and maintaining security systems. And he was very good at what he did. An impressive list of corporations in the Greater Boston area relied on his top-notch services. One of his specialties was installing hidden little cameras which could be remotely monitored by anyone having an internet connection and the correct password. What our Mr. Riley didn't tell his clients was that buried in the software of every one of these systems was a back door. A back door that only he had the key to. Mike could sit in his living room and watch the images fed from any one of the hundreds of cameras which he installed and maintained.

In the beginning, it was all quite innocent. The back doors were there to make it easy for him to see which cameras needed service. But very quickly, Mike learned something about human nature. It was amazing what some people would do when they thought no one was watching. No one, that is, except Mike. A few of the locations were more interesting than most. They provided Mike with an endless stream of everything from pilfering security guards, all the way up to couples having sex while supposedly working late. And Mike recorded all of it.

A few years ago, the owners of the building at Five Cambridge Street had hired Mike to install one of his security systems. During the installation process, Mike decided to give his client something that they hadn't asked for. Five Cambridge Street is located directly facing City Hall Plaza, so Mike placed a zooming, swivel based remote camera on the outside of the building. He now had a front row seat for every sports rally, concert and protest demonstration.

At the moment when the bubble occurred, Mike wasn't expecting anything so he wasn't recording. He wouldn't make that mistake again. As soon as he heard that something big was happening downtown, he rushed home, set his camera for a wide view and began recording the plaza. Teen girls continuously milling about looking lost, the Red Cross tent being erected, night fall and then dawn... all digitally captured on one of his hard drives.

Having his morning toast and coffee, Mike Riley watched as part of the huge expanse of the tent roof quickly sagged. When a stream of girls came pouring out of the tent, he moved his camera and zoomed in tight on the area around the door. Sixty seconds later, as a gust of thick black smoke spewed out of the door, a girl stumbled backwards out of the tent, dragging a limp body in her arms. A few yards from the tent, the girl fell to her butt, looked around and then passed out. Mike zoomed in closer. In spite of the smoke oozing out of their clothes, it was easy to see the bone sticking out of the heroine's left forearm.

============================

Hi folks... just me again.
A week and a half ago, when I wrote and posted the prologue and first chapter of this story, I thought maybe a few hundred fiction junkies like me would bother themselves to look at it.
What a pleasant surprise to see that it's not hundreds, but thousands who are reading it.

Thank you for that, but special thanks go to those of you who are going to the trouble of posting comments and pushing the kudos button.

☺... Lora

By Lora Guy
Cross dresser is caught up in a sudden, massive group transformation in downtown Boston.

Terry made up her mind on the spot. "You look like a Lora. It's perfect."

.
The Boston Bubble: Lora's Story

.
Chapter 5
.

I do have a vague memory of being in the back of an ambulance; of having my sweater cut off by a guy who looked like he was geared up for an asbestos removal operation. But it's all jumbled and fuzzy, the kind of memory that until something confirms it for you, you're not really sure about it. Did it happen or was it part of a dream? Now that I think about it, slowly becoming aware of my surroundings in a hospital emergency room was all the confirmation I really needed for a memory like that.

The first people to deal with me at the hospital must have thought I was really out of it, because it was at least half an hour before I realized they were talking to me when they called me Miss Williams. In hind sight, I really believe it was all of them who were a bit loopy. They must have known that I was brought in from the fire at City Hall Plaza. And the only way they could have known my name was by looking at the identification in my wallet, which clearly showed a picture of a thirty-eight year old man named Leonard Williams. In their defence, I suppose I was the first bubble affectee that they had seen, and they just couldn't fathom that the girl in front of them had woken up as a man the day before. But I have to give them credit. Even though the suits they had on made it seem like they were worried that I was radio-active, not once did they ever make me feel like I was a specimen in a petri dish. Professionals with a human touch.

Anyway, once they considered me coherent enough to understand them, they explained the situation. They told me that I needed surgery on my arm (shit did that hurt), but they had to wait until the next day to give my body a chance to recover from the smoke inhalation. Then they asked if I had any family members that I wanted them to contact. I told them calling Kelly at the restaurant would be best; no chance of an excitable niece taking the message.

At first, all they would tell me about George was that she was in Mass General too. But once I explained that I was the one who had pulled her out of the fire, they opened up a bit. One of the nurses told me she had a pretty bad head injury, and they were keeping her unconscious for now. A little later, that same nurse came back and told me that they had contacted Kelly and told her where I was and why. She also said that because I was an affectee, I was under quarantine and couldn't have any visitors. I wasn't too upset by that... I really wasn't ready to deal with introducing the "new and improved me" to my family.

-----

Once he saw the ambulances drive away with the girls, Mike Riley got busy. He uploaded eighteen hours worth of images from the Cambridge street camera in to a video editing program. There was so much data, it overwhelmed his editor on the first attempt. Through trial and error, he figured out that he had to break it down into six three-hour segments before he could begin working on it. An hour later, when he was done manipulating and combining all of it, he knew he had two minutes of video gold.

Now, Mike had himself a dilemma to deal with. One of those should-I-or-shouldn't-I things. His quandary was this: if he posted his little gem on the internet for the world to see, there was a chance someone might recognize the camera angle and start asking embarrassing questions. But after watching his creation more than twenty times, Mike made up his mind. He just couldn't resist the lure of "anonymous" fame. A quick fifteen minutes after starting the upload process, people around the world began watching "Bubble Babe to the Rescue" in all of its high definition glory.

-----

"Hi honey, is your mom there?"

"Yup, just a sec." Like every teen who's ever answered the phone, getting up and going to find someone was not an option. "Mom, it's Aunt Kelly!"

"Hey there."

"Hi. Can you talk?"

"Ya, what's up?"

"I just got a call... Lenny's in the hospital..."

"Oh no, what's..."

"Lemme finish. There was an accident downtown this morning. He's got a broken arm."

"Oh, thank god. I mean... you know... I thought it was something to do with... with the thing."

"Aw Jessie.. you haven't told the girls yet, have you?"

"Not yet. They know what's going on, but they don't know Lenny was there. I figured I'd wait and see what's happening. You know, see if they can do something about it."

"You gotta tell them sooner or later, Jess. The longer you leave it, the more they'll be pissed at you for not telling them. Shit, they'll probably deal with this better than us. They love him to death."

"I know, I know... Ben gets back this afternoon. We'll sit down together and tell them then. Did they say how long Lenny's going to be in the hospital? Should we go see him?"

"They said we can't visit him, he's still quarantined. Listen, some people just came in. I gotta go. I'll call you later, OK?"

"All right, love ya."

"Bye."

-----

Under any other circumstances, I would have been embarrassed when she came in. I was sitting in the chair beside my bed watching the sun coming up, wearing nothing but one of those little hospital gowns. And it was impossible to miss the fact that my legs were shaved. When I had pulled back the sheets to get out of bed, it was the first thing I thought of. "Oh shit, how do I explain that? Shit!" But it only took a couple of heart beats worth of panic before it came to me... "Calm down, Lenny. For all they know, all your body hair fell out when the bubble went off."

She came into the room with a smile on her face, pushing a wheel chair. "Well, it's nice to see you with your wits about you. You've been in and out of it all night." Considering what they have to see on a daily basis, it's amazing how cheerful most nurses are.

Returning her smile, I responded with a simple "potty emergency."

She nodded. Then, looking a little sheepish, she asked, "We're not quite sure what to call you. Do you prefer Mister or Miss Williams?"

"Yeah, it is a bit awkward, isn't it. Why don't we keep it casual and just call me Lenny."

"OK, Lenny, pleased to meet you. I'm Rasha."

"Hello, Rasha. Can I ask a question?"

"You just did." She smiled.

"OK, one more. Do you know anything about the other girl that came in at the same time as me? George Garneau? She was knocked out."

"I'm sorry, Lenny. I could ask and let you know later."

I could tell from the look on her face that she really was sorry that she couldn't answer my question. "Thanks, I'd appreciate that."

"OK. Now we need to start getting you prepped for surgery." She took my right arm and started timing my pulse. "Did everything work OK for you in the bathroom?"

"Yup, the plumbing works just fine."

She put a faux-serious expression on her face. "I'm talking about your internals, Lenny."

I just kept grinning. "I know, so am I."

"Oh." She chuckled. "OK." She removed a blood pressure cuff from a hook on the wall and put it around my arm. "Are you feeling any nausea or dizziness?"

"No, no nausea, but I did feel a bit off balance as I was getting to the washroom."

"That's to be expected. You're on a lot of pain medication. That's a pretty nasty break you've got there."

"Tell me about it." I suddenly realized what was strange about her. "Can I ask you about something?"

"Of course you can."

"You're the first regular person I've seen since the bubble who isn't wearing some kind of breathing equipment. What's changed?"

"The big brains in Atlanta gave us the word this morning. They can't find anything to indicate that whatever happened to you is contagious."

My first reaction was that this sounded like good news. But I quickly read between the lines. "Does that also mean they don't think they'll find a way to reverse this?"

Making a note, she took the blood pressure cuff off of my arm. Then she looked me in the eye. "No one is saying that." She lowered her voice and went on. "But between you, me and the wall, I wouldn't hold my breath. No one has a clue what could cause something like this, and you can't cure what you can't find. I'm sorry, Lenny."

"It's OK, Rasha. I've had some time to think about this, and believe me, I've thought about it a lot. I'm sure that this kind of thing will probably ruin some people's lives. But this is what I see. I was a happy, single, successful thirty-eight year old man. Now I'm a happy, single, successful twenty year old woman. It looks to me like I've been given a couple of extra decades to live. Anyone who could complain about that is a fool."

She looked mildly surprised. "Well, I didn't expect that." With a chuckle, she added, "Lenny, you are one of the most positive young ladies I've ever met."

I smiled. I liked the way she said that. "I guess I'm not just another pretty face."

-----

Ken Donelly (with one 'n'; for some reason he liked to say that) was a born and bred son of Boston. During his short lifetime, he had seen three of his dreams come true. The Red Sox had won the World Series, the Patriots had won the Super Bowl, and he had become a reporter for the Boston Herald. He was enough of a realist to understand that no one gets anywhere without hard work, but getting to the top also required an occasional lucky break at the right moment. He knew this to be true about sports. He also knew that this was a fact in the news business.

Ken was as blown away as anyone else when the bubble hit his home town. The caring person in him was terrified for all of the people who had been affected by it. But from the first moment he heard about it, he knew that this wasn't just any event, this was world-wide news. And it was happening right in his back yard. He was in the right place at the right time.

The first reports to come in claimed that a bomb had exploded downtown. Television showed what looked like a huge explosion, yet there appeared to be no damage. Deciding to check it out himself, he button-holed a photographer, hopped in his car and... went nowhere. With I-93 and every major artery being closed downtown, he couldn't even make it up the ramp onto the expressway before he was stuck in traffic. He left his car with the photographer and started walking north toward City Hall. Milk Street was as far as Ken got. The cops blocking the road told him that the entire core was quarantined, but they couldn't tell him why.

Frustrated, his only option was to call anyone he could think of who might be able to tell him something. Although he was a well-liked guy, everyone he managed to get on the phone had nothing but apologies and promises to call him back if they heard anything interesting. After a day and a half of turning over stones and finding nothing under them but common knowledge and rumors, a lead finally came to him from a very unlikely source. He received an E-mail from his nephew containing only two words: "Watch this!" He clicked on the link.

A video titled "Bubble Babe to the Rescue" opened and started playing. It showed a time lapse of people moving around in City Hall Plaza. A small circus tent was erected comically fast, people came and went, the sun set and rose. So far, so what. But then the video slowed to normal speed when a section of the tent roof collapsed. Girls and then smoke came out of the tent. OK, interesting, but... oh, Oh, OH my GOD! Look at her arm! A quick scan of the video showed it had been posted less than two hours ago, and it already had more than two hundred thousand hits.

-----

I think it was hunger that drove my eyes open. The sound of my own stomach growling woke me up.

"Lenny?"

"Yeah."

"My god, Lenny, it's really you?"

What a silly question. Who would I be? I rolled my head over to the right. Jess was sitting in my chair. I made a weak smile. "Hey."

"Lenny, you... you're... I didn't believe them. I thought there's gotta be a mix-up. But it's really you." She was smiling with tears rolling down her cheeks. "Are you OK? Your arm, I mean. Does it hurt?"

I lifted my head and looked down at myself. "Oh yeah, my arm." I looked back at Jessie. "Sling's rubbing on my tit. How do you put up with these things?"

A short laugh burst out of her. "Yeah, you're Lenny."

"Yup, I'm in here. Could you do me a favor? Do you think you could find me something to eat? I think it was the day before yesterday since I had anything."

"Sure. I'll go down to the cafeteria. How about a sandwich?"

"Great. Anything."

"OK. Be right back." She started to leave, then stopped and looked at me. "And Lenny... you look... good. Really good. That surprised me."

I wasn't really sure what to say to that, so I just gave her a crooked smile and sort of shrugged with my eye brows. She smiled back and then left.

I thought I would have drifted off once she was gone, but the two-day hunger that I'd built up kept my eyes open.

About ten minutes after she left, Rasha came into the room.

"Oh, good, you're awake. How are you doing?"

"Hey. I'm OK, but it's hard to get comfortable. I guess I shouldn't complain, though. I wasn't exactly ready to play the piano this morning, was I?"

"Right." "Smiling, she pulled down the blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around my arm again. "I made a couple of calls for you. Your friend George is in the head trauma unit. In plain English, she has a cracked skull. They'll be keeping her asleep for a few more days to help keep her brain from swelling. It's a serious injury, but everything looks positive."

"Is she in this building?"

"Yes, but I know what you're thinking. It's an intensive care unit, Lenny... only family can visit her. She wouldn't know you were there anyway." Just then, Jessie came walking back into the room. Rasha nodded at her, looked back at me and said, "Oh, and I called your sister and told her that the quarantine has ended." Her face lit up with a grin at her own joke.

Jessie smiled. "She was complaining about being hungry. Is it OK if I give her these?" She held up the sandwich and a bottle of milk.

Rasha hung up the cuff. "Sure, just let me get out of your way." She made a couple of notes, then moved toward the door.

"Oh, Rasha, wait." She turned back to me. "When are you going to be kicking me out of here?"

"Normally, you'd be out of here this afternoon. But because of you're 'unusual' condition, they'll be wanting you to stay overnight."

"Ok, thanks."

She smiled, nodded at us and left.

As Jessie was unwrapping the food, I looked up at her. "You called me she."

"That's the pronoun that seems to fit."

"Who knows about this?"

She handed me half the sandwich. "Everyone. Ben got home yesterday, and when the girls got home from school, we sat them down and told them."

"How did they take it?"

"They'd heard about everything going on... shit, the world knows what happened. But they had no idea you were there. The word 'awesome' came up a few times."

"Really?"

"Well, at first they wanted to know if you were OK. We told them about you being here, but that it had nothing to do with the change." Her expression got serious. "Len, please don't be mad with them. They're still just kids. They think it's the coolest thing in the world that someone they're close to is involved in this. They're not really thinking about what you're going through."

"No, Jess, wait. It's OK. Really. I was worried that they would look at me like a freak."

""You bone head. You're their favorite person in the world." Jess opened the milk and handed it to me. "You should have seen their faces light up when they realized that you were going to need to buy clothes. They're already making plans about where they're going to take you shopping."

A giddy feeling rose in my chest. "Really. Oh thank god. You know, out of everything going on, the only thing I was really worried about was how they would take it."

She handed me the other half of the sandwich. "Ben's picking them up early from school. They should be here any minute."

Although it was a relief to know they were fine with my situation, I still felt butterflies at that. All I could manage to say was, "Oh."

Jessie picked up on my nervousness. "That's OK, isn't it? We thought you'd like to see them."

"Oh, no, right, yeah, I mean, that's good. I... It's just that you caught me off guard with that. I'm just worried that it could be an awkward moment. But it's good, really. Let's just pull that band-aid off."

Just as I was washing down the last bite, Ben came in followed closely by Brenda and Terry. Ben's smile flashed to surprise as he stopped at the foot of my bed. "Holy cow!" was all he managed to get out. The girls ignored him and came right up to the side of the bed.

They were a boquet of smiles and wide eyes. Terry managed to say something first. "This is so cool. I didn't expect you to be so pretty!"

Jessie tried to put a stop to that. "Come on, I'm not so sure your Uncle Len really wants to hear that right now."

Brenda came back with, "She's right though, Mom." She looked at me. "You don't look like a Len any more."

Ben found his voice. "In the car on the way over here, the girls were talking about that. They were wondering what they should call you."

I looked at him. "Let's just stay with Le..."

Jessie interrupted me. "How about Lora?"

Both girls squealed with a chorus of, "Oh, yeah. I like that!"

Trying not to show that my heart had stopped beating, I turned and looked at Jess. "Where did that come from?"

"Don't you remember, when you were little? Mom always said that if she had a third girl, she was going to call you Lora?"

"Really? I don't remember that." And it was true, I honestly didn't remember.

Terry made up her mind on the spot. "You look like a Lora. It's perfect."

Brenda chimed in with, "Yeah, c'mon, please? I really want an Aunt Lora."

Ben hammered the final nail in the coffin. "You know you've never said no to these two in your life. Why don't you just get it over with and admit defeat?"

I looked at the girls. "You're not going to let it go until I say yes, are you?" Their smiles were saying it all. "All right. Just don't get mad at me when I forget to answer to it, OK?

The brouhaha was interrupted by a boyish looking man coming into the room.

"Hi, Leonard Williams?"

"That's me."

Smiling, Terry piped in with, "We just decided. She's Lora now." I cringed slightly at that.

"OK, pleased to meet you Lora. My name's Ken Donelly, with one 'n'. I'm with the Boston Herald."

==========================

Hey folks.
Thanks for sticking with me.
Hope your having as much fun reading it as I am writing it.
And thanks for the feed back... it makes the effort worthwhile.

☺... Lora

By Lora Guy
Cross dresser is caught up in a sudden, massive group transformation in downtown Boston.

She made a long face. "My damn brother has the nicest ass in the family."

.
The Boston Bubble: Lora's Story

.
Chapter 6
.

"Yes sir, I'll take care of it. I know exactly who to call with this. I'll set it up for this morning."

Hanging up the phone, she looked down at the front page of the newspaper sitting on her desk. "Boston's Heroine Addiction." Catchy headline. That, plus the picture of a beautiful, slightly rumpled girl sitting up in her hospital bed... this would probably be a record sales day for the Herald. She picked up her phone and pressed a single button.

"Betty, could you get me someone in the director's office at Massachusetts General Hospital? Thank you."

She hung up the phone again and picked up the newspaper. She was captivated by the girl in the photo with her open, honest smile. After a few moments, she flipped the paper over and scanned the story below the fold. "How in the world does someone go through all that and still smile for a camera? Absolutely amazing." Startled by the telephone, she reached over and picked it up on the first ring.

"OK. Beckett? Thanks Betty." There was a click on the line as the call was connected.

"Good morning Mr. Beckett... I'm fine, thank you. I'm calling on behalf of Governor Bingham. Yes sir. He's concerned that there might be some lingering fears among the general population about non-existent health risks associated with the bubble affectees. Yes, sir, I've read the report from Atlanta. The Governor is concerned that unfounded prejudices might form, in spite of the "all-clear" from the CDC. He would like to help reassure the citizens, and he's decided that the best way to accomplish this is to give a press interview jointly with one of the affectees. I understand you have a Miss Lora Williams there as a patient. Yes, I understand. Very low key. The Governor, myself, a reporter and a camera operator. Eleven o'clock. No sir, it would be best for security if no one else knew we were coming. I would appreciate it if you could do your best to see that she isn't discharged before we get there. Yes sir. Thank you for your help. I'll see you at eleven."

She hung up the phone and looked down at the front page photo again. "Let's just hope you voted democrat last year, Miss Lora Williams."

She pulled out her cell phone and speed-dialed the personal number of the news anchor at the Boston CBS affiliate. You don't become the press secretary to the Governor of Massachusetts without having a few good contacts. "Hi, Bob? Claire Evans. How would you like to have a little chat with the Governor this morning?"

-----

My hair was still damp from the shower when she shyly eased into the room. I was expecting Kelly with some clothes, so I was a bit surprised to see someone else coming in.

"Miss Williams?"

"I suppose so." I smiled. "Please, call me Lenny."

"Oh, I'm sorry. The newspaper called you Lora... so I assumed..."

"No, that's fine. The reporter came in yesterday just as my nieces were... well, anyway, you can use which ever name you're comfortable with."

"OK, thanks. I'm Donna." She stuck out her hand. As I shook it, I could feel her grip quivering slightly. "I just wanted to say thank you." When she saw the look of confusion on my face, she added, "Oh, ... I'm sorry. You don't..." She hitched in a breath. "I'm George's daughter."

"Oh. Hi." I stood up. "George was saying he lives with you?"

She nodded.

"They won't let me in to see him. How is he?"

She pulled in a deep breath. "They still have him in a coma. They say he came through the first twenty-four hours without any problems, so it looks as good as it can right now. But we won't know anything for sure until they start waking him up tomorrow."

Trying to make small talk, I offered, "He told me about coming home after the change. He said you wouldn't let..."

I stopped talking when I noticed that she was struggling to maintain her composure.

"My daughter told me about the video on the computer. I wasn't interested at first, but she made such a big deal about it." She paused. For a few seconds, I thought she was done, but she swallowed a lump in her throat and continued. "I saw... I saw what you did. Oh, Lora, I can't..." She put up her hand. With her jaw trembling, she tried to go on. "I can't thank you enough for..."

That was all she got out before she lost it. Looking into my eyes, her face contorted into a mess of emotions. I couldn't think of what to say, so I stepped up and pulled her into a light, one-armed hug. It didn't feel awkward; it just felt like the right thing to do. When I thought she was ready, I let go and took a step back.

She was embarrassed by her tears and sniffles. Offering her a box of tissues, I asked "Are you going to be OK?"

She took a tissue, wiped her eyes, then pulled in a slow, deep breath. "Oh, I'm fine. Really." She smiled. "I'm just so grateful for what you did for Dad."

"I wish I could have done more."

"More?" A teary giggle popped out of her. "You silly little thing. An army of firemen couldn't have done more." She dabbed at her eyes again. "You know, Dad was right about you. He called me the night before he got hurt. He said I shouldn't worry about him, that he'd met a good person, everything was going to be OK."

I was a little choked up at that. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. I just wanted to come up and ..."

Kelly picked that moment to walk in.

"Lenny?"

"Oh. Hi Kell. Yeah... c'mon in." She walked into the room, all big eyed and smiling. I went on. "This is Donna. Her father was hurt in the fire, too. Donna, this is my sister Kelly."

Kelly pried her gaze away from me long enough to look at Donna. "Hello. How's your father doing?"

"He's improving." She reached out and took Kelly's hand. "You have an amazing sister." She looked back at me. "I'll get out of your hair now. I just wanted to meet you and tell you how grateful we all are." She smiled and turned to leave.

"Donna, wait a sec." I went over to the night table and got out a pen and paper. I wrote my down cell number and handed it to her. "Call me as soon as you know anything about your father."

"OK, I will. It was nice meeting you Kelly."

"You, too."

Once she was gone, I turned my attention over to my sister. One look at her face was all it took. The scene with Donna had pushed it right out of my mind... I forgot, this was the first time Kelly had seen me.

"Holy shit, Lenny, look at you." She was gaping. "Jess told me you looked good, but I just couldn't imagine it. I was expecting something that looked like my brother in drag, not... not this!" She scanned me from head to toe. I really felt naked, standing there in the hospital gown and slippers.

Again I found myself stumped for words. Her reaction to me, plus the 'brother in drag' comment left me ruffled. So I just raised my eyebrows and shrugged my good shoulder in a sort of what-are-you-gonna-do expression.

We just stood there looking at each other for a second until I broke the moment by asking, "Are the clothes in the bag?"

"What, oh yeah." She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was staring at me. "Lenny, I'm sorry, but this is really weird. It's kind of like I'm bumping into someone I went to school with thirty years ago. You know, the old I-recognize-the-name-but-I-can't-place-the-face sort of feeling."

"OK, if it'll help, I can play along with that." I turned my back on her, then slowly turned to face her. When we made eye contact, I changed my neutral expression to one of surprise. "Kelly? Kelly Williams? Oh my god, it is you! Wait, you don't have any idea who I am, do you? Remember, we sat beside each other in grade six breakfast... in Mr. and Mrs. Williams' kitchen. Oh, c'mon... how could you forget me? I was the one who was always making those farting noises! Yeah, that's right, it's me! Your brother Lenny!"

Kelly's grin slowly grew into a real smile. "You really are in there, aren't you?"

"Kelly, I understand how you feel. I've had days to get used to this, and every time I look in a mirror, it still startles the hell out of me."

She sat the bag of clothes down on the bed, walked up and hugged me. "Aah aah, watch the arm, watch the arm."

"Oh, sorry." Letting go, she stepped back, looked me in the eyes and smiled. "Let's get some clothes on you and see if we can get you out of here." She picked up the bag and started reaching into it. "When Jess showed me what she was sending, I laughed in her face. I told her there was no way my brother Lenny was going to fit in these jeans. But look at you."

She was right about the jeans, they looked tiny. "They're a little too big for Brenda, plus they're stretchy. See?" She pulled on the waist band. "I don't think you'll have any trouble slipping in to these. If anything, they might be a little too long for you." Along with the jeans, there was a plain white T-shirt, some underwear and a sweater-coat. "We weren't sure what to do about shoes, so I brought these." She pulled out a pair of mules that looked like a pair of white tennis shoes from the front.

"Thanks, Kell." I picked up the jeans, T-shirt and underwear with my good arm and headed for the washroom. "I'll be out in a sec." Thinking of something, I walked back up to her. "Can you do me a favor? Can you undo the strings on the back of this. I always seem to be pulling them into knots."

She reached up and pulled the slip knots undone. As I felt the cool air on my back, she said, "Aw, shit."

I turned to face her. "What's wrong?"

She made a long face. "My damn brother has the nicest ass in the family."

I looked over my shoulder at her and grinned as I wiggled my butt, then headed off into the washroom.

To my back, she said, "I am soOo glad I didn't have to grow up with you looking like this. I never would've gotten a date."

Getting dressed was simpler than I thought it would be. The T-shirt was stretchier than the jeans and it had a scoop neck, so sliding it over my cast and then pulling it over my head was easy. The jeans fit pretty good, but I couldn't get the button done up with just one hand. When I came out of the washroom, I drafted Kelly for button-doing-up duty. Just as she finished, the phone on the night table rang.

"Hello."

"Hello, Miss Williams?"

"Yes."

"Good morning. How are you today?"

"I'm fine.... ?"

"Wonderful. My name is Morris Beckett. I'm the hospital's assistant director."

"What can I do for you, Mr. Beckett?"

"Miss Williams, I'd like to ask you a favor. Do you think you could you spare about a half an hour to help us out?"

"Well, that depends on what you'd like me to do. You're not going to ask me to shovel snow, are you? Because I do have a broken arm, you know."

He chuckled. "No, nothing like that. There is some concern about how the affectees are going to be accepted in the community now that the quarantine has ended. We're filming an impromptu public service announcement this morning, and the people setting it up have asked that you appear in it."

"Why me?"

"I take it you haven't seen a newspaper this morning?"

"No, I'm sorry. So that reporter got his article in this morning?"

"Yes, Miss Williams. His article made it into the paper." He sounded like he was grinning. "That's how your name came up. Anyhow, do you think you could help us out?"

"How long would you need me?"

"We expect to have it all wrapped up by noon at the latest."

"OK, just a second." I looked at Kelly. "Are we in a hurry?" She shook her head.

"All right, Mr. Beckett. Where should we go?"

"Wonderful. They're waiting for you in one of the conference rooms. Just go to the main reception desk in the lobby and I'll meet you there."

"OK, we'll be there as soon as we can."

We said our good byes and hung up. I looked at Kelly. "Well, that was out of the blue."

"What's going on?"

"They're filming a public service thing downstairs and they want me to be in it. Something about the folks caught in the bubble."

"Right now?"

"Yup. I said we were on our way."

Kelly smiled. "I guess this proves that you really are Lenny inside that head."

"What makes you say that?"

"Only a guy would agree to being on camera without spending a few hours in a hair salon first."

-----

As is true in almost every hospital in every city, getting lost would have been easy. It seemed like we were following Mr. Beckett along a maze of corridors for at least ten minutes before he opened a door for us and said, "Here we are."

As soon as Kelly and I walked into the room, an efficient looking woman left a small group of people sitting at the front of the room and came walking up to us. She smiled and offered me her hand. "It's Miss Williams, right?"

"It's going to take some getting used to, but yes, I suppose I am." I shook her hand. "This is my sister Kelly."

She turned to Kelly and greeted her. "Hi, pleased to meet you." Looking back at me, she glanced at my sling and asked, "How is your arm?"

"There's a bit of a throb there, but it's not so bad."

"Good. Miss Williams... Can I call you Lora?" I tilted my head slightly and nodded. "Thank you, Lora. My name is Claire Evans. I'm the press secretary for Governor Bingham."

She started leading us toward the others in the room. As we walked, she continued. "He's concerned that rumors about the affectees might lead to difficulties for them. He would like to do everything he can to help prevent this from happening."

As we approached, the three men stood up. One of them walked away and started fiddling with some camera equipment. The other two looked at us and smiled.

Claire made the introductions. "This is Lora Williams and her sister Kelly. Lora, Kelly, this is Governor Bingham, and this is Bob Goodale from CBS news."

After a round of hand shakes and pleased-to-meet-you's, Claire indicated three chairs set up in front of the cameras. "Governor, Lora, Bob if we could get started?" She looked at me. "OK, Lora, there's no real plan for this. The cameras are going to start, Bob will open with an introduction, and then everyone will just have a friendly chat. We just want people to get the idea that there's no reason to avoid contact with the affectees. OK?"

I definitely felt more than a little out of my element. "OK. But I have to tell you, I've never done anything like this before."

"Just act like it's three people having a chat, and you'll do fine."

I smiled. "All right, but you've been warned."

Once we were comfortable, the camera guy gave us the thumbs up.

"Hello, I'm Bob Goodale. I'm here today with Massachusetts Governor Jack Bingham. Good morning, Governor."

"Good morning Bob. A few days ago, thirty thousand men, women and children were caught up in a unique event in downtown Boston. Since this event occurred, every available expert has been trying to determine two things. First, what mechanism caused this event, and second, are the results contagious in any way. Although every effort is still being made, no one has yet been able to determine what caused this. But I can tell you with certainty that since the original event, no one anywhere has been affected. Every test has proven that there is no risk whatsoever that this is contagious in any way. Yesterday, the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta ended of the quarantine in Boston.

Now, the good people who were affected by this are going to need our support in their efforts to get on with their lives. Remember, they are the same friends, neighbors and family members who we have always known. Please treat them the same way that you would want to be treated. Thank you. Bob..."

"Thank you, Governor. Also with us today is one of the people affected by this, Miss Lora Williams."

"Hi Bob."

"Lora, I understand you've had an unusual week."

That drew a crooked grin out of me. "It's certainly been one for the books, Bob."

"You seem to be coping pretty well."

"Well, a good friend of mine recently gave me some wonderful advice. She said I should look on the bright side of things. And she's right, it really is that simple. I'm healthy, I have a family that loves me, and hopefully I have another eighty years to live. If I can't find a way to be happy with all that going for me, then I can't blame it on the bubble."

The Governor chimed in. "Miss Williams, you certainly have a way with words. How would you like a job writing speeches?"

I gave him a surprised looking smile. "A career in politics... now there's something you can blame for an unhappy life."

================

Hey everybody, Lora here.

I'd love to stick around and chat,
but chapter seven is writing itself
and I really should be there to watch.

.

.

.
.

.

I was just looking out the window, watching the city go by, when Kelly broke the comfortable silence. "So tell me, how did the newspaper end up referring to you as Lora?"

"Yesterday, when Brenda and Terry were visiting me, they decided that was going to be my new name. You know how they can be like a pair of dogs with a bone... Anyway, just as I gave in, this reporter walks in. So of course, the girls badger him into calling me Lora, too...."

"Yeah, but who came up with the name?"

"Oh, Jessie suggested it. She said Mom and Dad were going to call me that if I'd been a girl."

"Oh, really." It was just a flash, but she looked like she was about to say something and then changed her mind. She recovered quickly and went on. "Well, how do you feel about that name. Do you want to be a Lora?"

"I guess so. It sounds OK with the last name. What the heck, it's better than Gertrude or Myrtle."

I thought I would have at least gotten a smile with that, but nothing. She just deadpanned, "OK then, Lora it is." She went back to her thoughts for a few moments. "So anyway, where are we going."

"You know, it's funny. An hour ago, all I could think about was getting out of that hospital. But that's as far as it went... I never thought about where I wanted to get out to."

"Sooo... do you want to go home?"

I thought about that for a second. "No, I don't really feel like being alone right now. I left my car behind the restaurant... how about we stop by there?"

"Oh, good. I was hoping you'd say that. Jess asked me to canoodle you into showing up there."

"Aw, you two aren't planning anything embarrassing, are you?"

"No, she was just worried that you were going to go home and lock yourself in. She said the sooner you get back into a routine, the better." She glanced over at me. "And I think she's right."

"Yeah, you're probably right." I was quiet for a minute. "Kelly, do you think there's anything to worry about? I mean, even the Governor is worried people might look at me like I'm some kind of Typhoid Mary."

"Honestly? You're worried about that?" She pulled over, shut off the motor and turned to face me. "First, give your head a shake. No matter what you think about the guy's motivation, the bottom line is that Bingham is just another politician. And every politician is always thinking about the next election. Do the math. Thirty thousand affected people mean that there's at least two hundred thousand people who know and care about them. That's two hundred thousand voters who are going to see that spot you just helped make and think 'That Bingham is a great guy.' You know what I mean?"

I nodded. Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Don't get me wrong... there's nothing wrong with the message he was sending out. Just don't worry that he was reacting to some crisis, because he wasn't. The villagers are not out chasing you with pitchforks and torches, OK?"

That brought a relieved little giggle out of me.

"But, I do think you need to keep few things in mind. This might seem obvious, but I have to say it anyway. Your not a guy any more."

I thought I knew where she was going with this. "Kelly, you really don't have to explain to me what goes through a guy's mind when he's looking at a girl."

She shook her head. "No, it's more than that. It's not just that you're female now. Everybody knows that there are idiots out there who won't take no for an answer. But things might be a little worse for you because now every one of those knuckle-draggers think they have a new category of girls to bother. They might look at you and think 'She used to be a guy, so she wants sex as much as I do.' Am I right?"

I never thought about it that way, but she had a point. "So what do I do... find a hole, crawl into it and hide for the rest of my life?"

"You don't have to hide. Just try to blend in with the rest of us. It shouldn't be that hard; put a little effort into it and you'll be fine."

"What do you suggest? I should twirl my hair and punch buttons on a cell phone all day?"

That got a grin out of her. "Well, for starters, you might want to stop telling people to call you Lenny."

"Oh, yeah. I do do that, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do. I understand where you're coming from with that, but I think you'll regret it if you keep it up. If everyone gets in the habit of looking at your new face and calling it Lenny, you're going to be stuck with that for the rest of your life."

"OK, what else?" She hesitated. "C'mon Kell, I know there's more. It's OK, just throw it out here."

"OK, you asked... here's the biggy... for chrissakes, girl, have a little modesty. Don't make it so obvious that you just grew those tits a few days ago."

I looked down at my chest. "I need a bra?"

"Yes, Lora needs a bra."

The cross dresser in me wasn't upset by that in the least, but the remnants of Mr. Macho Lenny felt a need to put on a show of resistance, if only for appearances. "Hiding in a hole is starting to sound pretty good right about now."

Again, she hesitated, but then went on. "I'm afraid it's a little late for that."

"What do you mean?"

She took a quick look around and seemed to find what she was looking for. "Wait here, I'll be right back." She grabbed a couple of dollars, got out of the car and ran across the street to a convenience store.

The throbbing in my arm reminded me that I was due for a pill. It took me a minute to remember what I'd done with them. Oh yeah... leaving my hospital room this morning, I realized I didn't have any pockets. My wallet, keys, phone and pills were all in Kelly's purse. It took a few seconds of digging around before I found my prescription. I dry-swallowed a pill just as Kelly was getting back in the car.

Putting my pills away, I held up her purse. "I guess I'm going to need one of these."

"They do come in handy. I never could understand why guys don't carry them." She handed me the newspaper she'd just bought. "This is why it's too late to hide in a hole.

It took me a second to realize the face on the front page was me. I looked up at Kelly. She had a smiling, amazed look on her face. I looked back down at the paper. "Holy shit."

She was giddy. "I know."

"That reporter said he was writing an article on the bubble, and that he just wanted to get my perspective on it. I had no idea it would end up like this."

"I guess he thought there was a chance you might clam up if he told you it was going to be all about you."

After a few seconds, it occurred to me that it really wasn't that big of a deal. "Wait, Kell. This is just today's paper. Tomorrow, there'll be something else on the front page, and a couple of days from now, no one is going to remember this."

"I'm not so sure about that. You're in the paper because of that video of you and George. As of this morning, there were more than six million hits on it." That made me look up from the paper. "I took a look at it last night... there are thousands of comments under it. A few of them are from idiots saying it was staged, but most of them are saying really good things. Hell, there must be at least five hundred marriage proposals there."

"Jeez."

"Lenny, you're famous. Shit. No, scratch that... Lora, you're famous."

"Oh, c'mon Kell. No one really pays attention to this kind of stuff. Do they?"

"Didn't you wonder why they asked you to do that TV thing this morning?"

"I was thinking about that. I was just guessing that I was the only affectee in the building when they needed one."

"Oh come on. Do you really think Mister Governor-of-Massachusetts-himself showed up at Mass General because that conference room had good acoustics? No, he scurried across town this morning because 'he' wanted to be seen with 'you'."

I tried to think of some other explanation, of some little piece of logic that she was missing. But there weren't any holes in it.

She went on. "So let's add up what we've got here. One: your name and face are all over the front page, two: a video of you being Super girl is getting, oh, I don't know, about a million hits a minute, and three: you're going to be on the tube with the Governor twice an hour for the next three weeks." She paused to take a breath. "It's going to be a long time before the world stops wanting to know what Lora Williams is doing in her spare time."

"I guess you're right. It's a little too late to try being invisible."

"Yeah, invisible is out. So just try the fade-into-the-background thing. You know, hide in plain sight." Looking directly at me, she seemed to be appraising me. "You already look just like any other woman on the street. Like I said, with a little bit of effort, you should have no problem just blending right in with the rest of us."

"So you're saying you think I should have surgery?"

"What are you talking about?"

"A frontal lobotomy." She didn't get it, so I went on. "If you're serious about me trying to blend in with you and Jess, then I think the best place to start is with having my brains scrambled."

She put a caring look on her face. "Oh honey, don't be silly. You don't need to pay a doctor to do that. Just make another wise-crack like that, and I'll scramble your brains all over the dashboard for free."

She started the car. As she pulled away from the curb, I came back with, "You never talked to Lenny like that."

She didn't miss a beat. "He could run faster than you."

-----

Kelly pulled over in front of the restaurant, but she didn't shut off the car.

"You're not coming in?"

I've got a couple of errands to run. I'll be back in a while."

"OK." I turned to get out of the car, but she reached out and touched my arm.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Like what?"

She started digging around in her purse. "You really are going to have to get yourself one of these."

As she handed me my things, I let out a sheepish little giggle. "Oh, yeah, thanks." I reached to open the car door when she stopped me again.

"I'm really glad you're OK. I just want to say that if there's one person I know who can get through something like this without losing their marbles, it's you." I opened my mouth to say something, but she stopped me. "Wait, I'm not finished. It's going to be tough just making myself call you Lora, but that's about the hardest part of all this for me... learning to use a new name. For you, everything is different. I really need you to understand that I'm here for you, I want to do whatever I can to help. Something like this could drive a person off the deep end, and it would kill me to lose you. So if you ever feel like it's all getting too heavy for you, promise me you won't just try and do "the guy thing" and suck it up on your own."

"Kelly, I...

She turned to look at me. "Please, Lenny, I'm really scared about this. You gotta promise."

I could see how serious this was for her. I looked straight in her eyes. "Kelly, right now, I think I'm OK. But if I ever start feeling like I'm not, then I'll find whatever help I need. I promise."

Letting out a deep breath, she smiled at me. "Thanks. I really, really needed to hear you say that."

I smiled back. "Wow, I think we just had our first sister talk."

That broke the tension. "Yeah, well get used to it, sis."

-----

It was the middle of the afternoon, so there were only a couple of customers in the place.

Jessie was in the kitchen, cleaning up from lunch when I walked in. She looked up and beamed at me. "Well, if it isn't the most famous burger flipper in the world!" She dried her hands, came up to me and gave me a light hug. Looking down at my cast, she asked, "Did anyone give you any idea how long you're going to have that?"

"I have to go back next week to make sure it's healing right. They said if everything goes like normal, it'll take about a month and a half before it comes off for good." I decided to clear the air about something. "Kelly just asked me where the name Lora came from. When I told her that you suggested it, she got all mysterious." Jessie just looked at me. "Mom never came up with that, did she?"

She looked like she was making a decision. "OK, no, she didn't."

I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck, but I had to know. "So what made you suggest Lora?"

She pulled her mouth to one side for a second, then blurted out, "You did."

She stared at me for a reaction. My knees felt weak, but I asked for this. "You know?" She just nodded. "I've gotta sit down."

She followed me into the office. "Who knows?"

"Me and Kelly."

I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. "How did you... ?"

"Last summer, before Ben, me and the girls went away, I googled Niagara Falls. One of the things that came up was a video called Transvestite Tourist."

I didn't say a word, so she went on. "It had that French music that you always listen to, but while I was watching it, I had no idea. When it was over, though, a bunch of related videos came up and one of them looked like your living room."

I rolled my head back and looked at the ceiling. "So you called Kelly and told her."

"Not for a few days. But I just couldn't stop thinking about it. I had to talk to someone."

"You could have talked to me."

"We both know that's not true." I lowered my gaze from the ceiling. She went on. "If you wanted me to know, you would have told me about it."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"If this bubble shit never happened, neither me or Kelly would've ever said a word to you about this. Never."

"So I still don't know why you made up that stuff about Mom picking the name."

"I wanted to talk to you about this, but couldn't think of a way to bring it up. I didn't plan that, it just kind of popped out."

"Why now?"

"Because I worry." She took a deep breath. "You joke around about all this and try to make it look like it's easy for you, but it's got to be a lot harder than you're letting on. With all the stress you've got going on, I figured it would be a little easier if you didn't have to hide the fact that you know how to do your nails." There was a please-tell-me-I'm-right expression on her face.

I let out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding.

Carla came into the kitchen and sang out, "Jessie, we've got an order up."

"Be right there." She lowered her voice. "Do you want to talk about this?"

"I will, but not right now. I need to get used to the idea." As we stood, I asked, "Just you and Kelly?"

"Just me and Kelly."

"Can we keep it that way."

She smiled. "It'll be one of our sister things, Lora. I promise."

=====================

Hi everyone.

If you're interested, my video Transvestite Tourist actually exists.
You can watch it by clicking on the name.

Don't you wish we lived in a universe where
stuff like the bubble was possible?

.

.

.

"Ok, what's next?"

"The Johnny Knoxville interview is scheduled for five minutes, plus ninety seconds for his Britney Spears clip."

"Just five minutes?"

"Have you ever seen him live? He's a bit of a doofus. Any more than that and people are going to start changing the channel."

"All right then, people. We've got an eight minute hole to fill on Tuesday. What have we got?"

"Oh, oh, has anyone seen that bubble babe video? There's been millions of hits on it. You know, the one where this girl with a broken arm pulls someone out of a fire."

"Right... that Boston thing. Has anyone done anything with her yet?"

"I don't think anyone's bothered. Everyone's worried that the whole bubble thing is still a little too touchy."

"The good Samaritan hero angle is different."

"I like it. Any ideas on who she is?"

"The newspaper in Boston did an interview with her. I could look up the reporter and..."

"OK, Rachel, you're on it. You've got forty-eight hours, track her down. Erica, I want you go down to the Laughfactory tonight and catch Valerie R's show. She's a good kid; ask her to do five minutes on Tuesday in case Rachel bombs out with the bubble chick. OK folks, Wednesday. Did Matt's people call back?"

-----

The mild throb in my arm woke me up, but I just lay there with my eyes closed for a couple of minutes. I was surprised I hadn't had trouble falling asleep, what with a dozen things conspiring to keep my mind whirling. George's condition, my chat with Jessie, seeing myself on television with the Governor, the tiny little baby doll that I wore to bed... But just like the cliche says, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Slowly opening my eyes, I let them get used to the morning light oozing through the closed curtains. It felt so good to wake up in my own bed. Kind of a secure, everything-is-good-with-the-world feeling. As much as I just wanted to lie there and wait for the alarm, I knew that if I didn't get up and take a pill, my arm was going to start yelling at me. I got up and arched my back in a stretch, then paused to look at myself in the mirror. I think my heart skipped a beat... girl, you look good in lilac. Shit, with that smile, you'd probably look good in a burlap sack.

I tore myself away from the mirror and took care of the three P's; pee, pill and put-on-the-kettle. I had just sat down to work on a half finished crossword when the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Hi, Aunt Lora?"

I rolled my eyes. "Good morning Terry. You're up awful early."

"Wait, wait... I love saying that. I've gotta do that again. OK, ready? Here goes... Hi Aunt Lora."

"OK, are you done?"

"Umm, no. One more time." She cleared her throat. "Hi Aunt Lora. Yup, that's it, I'm done."

"Maybe I should have picked a different name."

"Like what?"

"How about Onio."

"That's not a name."

"Sure it is. Say good morning to me again, but use that name."

"OK. Good morning Aunt Onio."

I chuckled. "Say it a little faster."

"Good morning Antonio"

"Buon giorno, bella."

"You know, it's not just your body that's changed. Uncle Lenny was weird, but you're weirder. Can I ask you a serious question?"

"You could try, but I really don't think you know how to be serious. But go ahead, give it a shot..."

"Could you hear it when your mind snapped? I mean, was it loud?" She giggled at her own joke. "Here, Brenda wants to talk to you."

I heard her hand the phone to her sister.

"Hi Aunt Lora." There was a smile in her voice.

"Here we go again... Good morning, Brenda. You're up awful early."

"Could you do me a favor? My friend Emma slept over. Can you give her a ride home when you pick us up?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Does Emma live in Nebraska? Because I'm not driving to Nebraska. I hate trying to get through the traffic in Chicago."

"No, she lives in Scotland. You could drop her off and be back by, oh I don't know... next Friday."

"Oh, all right. But I've gotta stop at Loch Ness. I want to round out my collection of mythical sea creatures."

That finally got a giggle out of her. "What time will you be here?"

"Does eight-thirty sound good? I'd like to get an early start."

"You boy!"

"What?"

"Only a boy would expect three girls to have breakfast and be ready to go in an hour."

"OK, I guess I'll just have to go shopping by myself. I'll get by somehow..."

"You won't go without us... you'd have to tie a string to the door to find your way back out of the mall."

I laughed. "All right, all right, nine o'clock."

"Bye, Aunt Lora."

"You girl!"

She giggled and hung up the phone.

-----

I had started sorting through my clothing the night before, trying to figure out what was useful and what should go to charity. After about a half an hour of going through my men's clothing, I realized I that I really didn't want to do this yet. Almost none of it was of any use to me now, but I just couldn't make myself let go of the idea that I might wake up tomorrow as a man. I just put it all back in the drawers.

Surprisingly, I had the same problem looking at my women's clothing. I found that anything stretchy still fit me pretty good; most of the underwear, lingerie, leggings, a few T-shirts. I even had a clingy "little black dress" that looked phenomenal on me. But a lot of it was good for nothing; shoes, boots, jeans, all of my outerwear... not to mention all of my wigs, padding and silicone. I put it all away, just in case "Lenny" came back and wanted to look pretty some day.

The exercise wasn't a total waste of time, though. After all, I did end up wearing that cute baby doll to bed.

After a quick shower, I pulled on a clean T-shirt, underwear and the rest of the clothes that Kelly gave me the day before, hopped in the car and went to pick up the girls.

-----

"Shotgun."

That one word out of a teenager shuts down any arguments. Brenda took the front seat while Terry and Emma slid into the back. The three normally bubbly girls were unusually quiet as they piled into the car.

"Good morning, ladies." Not a peep out of any of them. "What?"

From the back seat, Terry piped up with, "See, I told you."

I thought I knew what was going on. "Oh, I get it." I looked in the rear view mirror. "Hey there, Emma. Am I the first person you've seen who was changed by the bubble?"

"No, my cousin was there, but she only lost a bunch of weight. She's pretty happy about it."

"Well then Terry, what's the see-I-told-you all about?"

"She didn't believe you were the girl in the video."

"Oh, that. Yeah, well, that was me." I tried to change the subject as I started backing out of the driveway. "So Emma, Terry tells me you live in Scotland now."

"Huh, wha... no." Emma was every bit as forward and outgoing as my nieces; I suppose that's why they were friends. She completely ignored my redirection attempt and plowed on with her line of questioning. "Brenda says to call you Lora. Is that OK?"

"Sure, that's fine."

"Cool name. Is it OK to ask you about what happened?"

"That depends on what you want to ask."

"Why did all those people come out of that tent and leave you two in there?"

"A big piece of metal fell on us and knocked us down. I guess nobody saw us."

"Is the other girl OK?"

"I hope so. She's still in the hospital."

"Did you know her?"

"Yeah... she's a good friend of mine. Listen, can we change the subject."

"Can I just say something first?" I didn't say no. She reached up and touched my shoulder. "I gotta tell you, what you did was just friggin amazing."

"Thanks Emma." She got me thinking about George; I could feel a lump forming in my throat. I knew that if we kept talking about this, I was probably going to start crying. I'm pretty sure the three of them could sense something, because the rest of the drive to Emma's place was filled with small talk.

I pulled into her driveway, and after a round of goodbyes and see-ya-laters, I asked the car in general, "So where are we headed?"

"Natick" was the response, in perfect two-part harmony.

-----

As I shut off the car, I decided that I better lay out a few ground rules.

"I want to have a talk before we go in there, OK?" I turned so that I could see both of them. "I need you both to understand something... this is going to be the first time I've been around a lot of people looking like this. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be fine with it, but if I say we gotta go, then we gotta go. OK?"

"Sure."

"Uh-huh."

"OK. And I know you're both probably dying to get me into Victoria's Secret or whatever, but it's not gonna happen. OK? All I need today is a few basics to get me through the next week or so. Clothes that I can get in and out of with one hand. Got it?"

Before Brenda could agree, Terry asked, "What about the restaurant?"

Immediately, Brenda chimed in with, "Yeah, you're gonna need something to wear at work this afternoon."

They were right, I hadn't thought about that. "We'll figure something out." With a nervous smile, I took a deep breath and said, "OK, let's do this."

-----

"Oh, this is cute."

I looked over at Terry. She was grinning and holding up a pink spandex micro-mini that said "Babe" across the butt.

I put a look of fake eagerness on my face. "Sure thing. I could wear that at work this afternoon."

Brenda held up a little white tube top. "Yeah... that skirt, this top and a pair of killer pumps. Business would triple."

Grinning, I shook my head. "Basics, ladies... remember, I said I need basics."

Terry countered with, "Oh come on Lora, you'd have no problem getting in and out of this with just one hand. That seems pretty basic to me."

That brought a nod of agreement from her sister. These two were a force of nature. When Brenda had called me the night before to cajole me into going shopping with them, I put up a show of resistance. But the truth was that I had hoped this would happen. I knew that they were going to do their level best to get me to be a girly-girl like them, and everyone knew that I had never been able to resist giving in to them. So if I suddenly appeared wearing things that weren't even remotely masculine or dowdy, it would be easy to blame it all on them.

"OK, you two, let's make a deal. Besides what I have on, I have practically nothing. So if we spend the next two hours concentrating on things like plain old jeans, T's, sweaters, shoes and underwear, then I'll put myself totally into your hands for half an hour. Deal?"

All it took was a glance between them before they looked at me and chorused, "Deal." That was almost too easy, as if they already had something planned. But it did the trick; by noon, the three of us were back at the car, throwing arm loads of bags into the car. I had what I came for and now it was their turn. The slam of the trunk lid seemed to be the signal they were waiting for. Without a word they each latched on to an arm and started marching me back into the mall.

"You don't have to take me captive, you know."

Brenda tried to explain. "It's chilly out here. We're just being cosy."

I countered with, "...said the spiders to the fly."

I expected to be tugged back into one of the many youth type clothing stores. But they didn't even glance into any of them as we appeared to be making a bee-line for the food court. Just as I was thinking they were only planning on having lunch, we headed up an escalator and wound up standing at the Piercing Pagoda. All three of us knew the power they had over me, so they weren't surprised when I didn't even try to resist.

"OK, just once. I don't want ten holes in each ear, OK?"

A thirty-ish looking woman read my hesitation and took control of the situation. "OK, honey, just pick out a pair of studs and we'll have this done in no time."

I looked at the girls. "Go ahead and pick something. Just nothing gaudy or goth, OK?"

Since birth, the twins had always been a pair of cute little attention magnets. So all morning, everything seemed perfectly normal whenever I caught someone stealing a glance at us. That had always happened whenever I was out anywhere with the two of them. So it surprised me when the woman working there seemed to be paying no attention at all to them.

After a minute of pretending to fuss about, she finally worked up the nerve to ask, "You're Lora Williams, aren't you?"

I couldn't place her; I was thinking that maybe we had met at the hospital. Curious, I answered, "Yup, that's me." When she didn't immediately go on, I asked, "I'm sorry, but I don't remember where I know you from."

She seemed embarrassed by that. "Oh, no, you don't know me. I read about you in the paper yesterday."

Now I was the embarrassed one. The twins interrupted their stud-hunting and turned to us. Terry smiled and poked Brenda in the ribs. "See, I told you."

I looked at Terry. "Told her what?"

Brenda explained. "She said people have been recognizing you all day, but I wasn't sure." She handed a pair of studs with little pink gems to the attendant. "She'll take these ones."

She took the studs from Brenda, scanned them and turned to me. "I thought it was you when you were walking up, but I wasn't sure until I saw the cast. Would it be OK if I took a picture with you?"

This definitely felt surreal, but I decided to just go with it. "Sure. Ah... what's your name?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Natasha."

"OK, Natasha. I guess it'd be best to take one now. I'm not sure if I'm going to be in the mood to smile after you pop a couple of holes in my head."

She laughed nervously, stuck her head beside mine and snapped a shot with her cell.

-----

Have you ever chipped a tooth? You know there's this little, sharp pointy spot on one of your teeth, but no matter how many times your brain tells your tongue to stay away from it, your tongue always ends up going back there anyway. My hand was like that with the little pink studs embedded in my ear lobes.

On our way across the parking lot, Terry stopped walking, crossed her arms and gave me an "angry mother" look. "Will you leave it alone, you're going to get that ear infected."

"I am so glad I only promised you two half an hour. Any longer, and I'd probably have one of these in my navel right now."

As if on cue, they both sang out, "There's always next week." Sometimes it was spooky how they seemed to act with a single mind.

Before I had a chance to respond, my phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Lora?"

"Yes it is."

"This is Donna, George's daughter."

"Oh hi. How are you?"

"I'm doing OK. I just called to let you know they woke Dad up this morning."

"How's is he?"

"Well, he's responding to questions... and he understands what happened to him." There was a relieved little flutter in her voice. "Lora, it looks really good. The doctor says that we can probably expect a full recovery."

"Oh, Donna, that's fantastic news. You must be so relieved. Do you have any idea when I can come see her?"

"Her. You know, I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that. My Dad is a her. Oh, but listen to me... if anyone understands that, it's you right?"

"You can say that again." I chuckled. "But anyway, can I come see your Dad?"

"Oh, right. They want to keep him where he is for another day or two, so no, not just yet. But he asked about you. At first, I was worried that he was not quite with it... he was asking about his friend Lenny. It took me a few minutes to realize he was talking about you. I told him that we met, and about your arm. He was more worried about you than he was about himself."

"Your father is one special person, Donna. You need to make sure you call me the minute it looks like I can come and see him, OK?"

"Count on it."

We said our good byes and hung up. I had been so wrapped up in the phone call, I didn't even notice that I'd followed the girls right back to the car.

"That was my friend George's daughter. He's awake and it looks like he's going to be OK."

The two of them seemed a bit confused. Brenda asked, "Is that the girl from the fire?"

"Oh, yeah. Her name is George. I feel like I've known her forever; I forgot you never met her."

Terry cleared up the confusion. "You were saying he and him. It didn't sound like you were talking about a girl."

"I suppose it's going to take a lot longer for some of the affectees than it will for me. Not everyone has a pair like you to do an instant girl-ification on them."

Brenda wrung her hands together, doing her best imitation of an evil mad-scientist. "Girlified? Bwa-hah-hah... you ain't seen nothin' yet."

I felt a few butterflies in my stomach at that. I just couldn't tell if it was from excitement or terror.

-----

"Well don't you look spiffy? I love the blouse." Jessie kept chopping carrots while she looked at me. It was amazing how she could do that without chopping off her fingers.

"Pretty puffy, isn't it? It wasn't easy finding something with sleeves big enough to get over the cast."

"Where are the girls?"

"I dropped them off at home about an hour ago. Ben said he'd get them here by four."

Jessie moved to put the tub of chopped carrots in the fridge. "I see you let the girls talk you into getting your ears done. I like the pink."

"Please don't make me feel self-conscious about this, Jess. I'm jumping in the deep end here, and I'm not sure I can swim."

"I'm just saying... honestly, you look good, OK?"

I smiled and took a deep breath. "OK. Thanks Jess." I started heading for the office. "I've got a week's worth of paperwork to catch up on. If it gets busy, you know where I am."

"Sure thing. Oh, and Lora..."

I turned to look at her.

"Nice legs."

I rolled my eyes. "Jess, please?" She smiled and pulled her finger and thumb across her lips, zipping her mouth closed.

-----

Having a broken arm, I wasn't good for much of anything around the restaurant except greeting the guests, seating them and making sure they had menus. But with Saturday evening being our busiest time of the week, this was a job that definitely needed doing. It wasn't the first time I'd done this job, but it was the first time I'd done it as a hostess.

I didn't really expect to see anyone who would recognize me, but I only managed to seat three tables before a familiar face came through the door.

"Well hello there, Ken Donelly with one N." I was a bit on edge at being seen in a blouse and skirt by someone who knew who I was a week ago. I decided to deal with my nervousness by hiding it behind a smile mixed with a little bravado. "Are you here to get more 'perspective', or are you moonlighting as the Herald's food critic?"

"There's a rumor going around town. Folks are saying there's a friend of the Governor working here. I just had to see for myself."

It almost sounded like he was more nervous than me. "Don't believe every rumor you hear. Can I get you a table?"

"Actually, I just need a few minutes of your time. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Sure, just a second." I flagged down one of the twins. "Brenda, can you take the door for a few minutes?"

"No problem. Hey there, Ken with one N. You here to make my aunt more famous?"

He looked a little startled. "Something like that."

While he was following me back to the office, I caught sight of him in the mirror behind the bar. I could tell by the way he was staring at my backside that he didn't mind seeing me in a skirt. It was a strange sensation... I wasn't sure how it made me feel, but I knew I could learn to like it.

As soon as we were sitting down, he pulled out his cell phone. "I got a phone call from someone who's been trying to track you down." He held up his phone and asked, "Do you mind talking to someone?"

"Can you tell me who this mystery caller is?"

"I could tell you, but I'd really like to see the look on your face. Do you trust me?"

I took a good look at him. He didn't seem like he was trying to pull anything over on me. "Sure, what the hell."

"Great." He punched a button on his phone and put it to his ear. "Hi, Ken Donelly... Yeah, she's right here." He handed the phone to me.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Williams?"

"Yes."

"Miss Williams, my name is Rachel Bextor. I'm an assistant producer for the Jimmy Kimmel Live show in Hollywood..."

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Hi folks, Lora here.

I honestly believe that I'm having more fun writing this than anyone is having reading it.
I have these characters in my head so much that when I'm writing, I feel like I'm visiting old friends.
I wouldn't be writing this if no one was bothering to read it, so a big thank you to all of you.

Gotta run... chapter nine is rattling around in my head, and I'll go nuts if I don't let it out.

Oh, and please remember to punch the good story button on your way out. (and maybe leave a comment?)

:-)

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"Are you sure it's OK Jess?"

"I wouldn't be able to sleep if you went alone."

I stared into her eyes, looking for any sign that she was just telling me what I wanted to hear. "Jess, you're the best. Do you mind if I tell them?"

She grinned. "Of course not, it's your news. I'll send them back, OK?"

"Thanks." Smiling, I walked up and gave her the best one-armed hug I could.

While Jess went out to the dining room to round up her daughters, I went over to the office and plunked my butt down on the edge of the desk. For the last six hours, the phone call from the west coast was all I could think about. I had been walking around the restaurant in a daze, functioning on autopilot. Looking down at myself, I giggled. I was actually surprised to notice that my legs were sticking out of a skirt.

Brenda and Terry appeared at the door. "Mom said you wanted to see us?"

I felt giddy knowing the excitement I was about to stir up. It was a struggle, but I did manage to keep a straight face. "How would you like to miss school for three days?"

Brenda popped out with, "Are you sure you're OK? Because that's one of the stupidest questions I've ever heard... Of course we would!"

Terry was a little more cautious. She turned her head, squinted and asked, "Why?"

I decided to play it coy. "I need help with a legal matter."

That left them speechless, so I went on. "I need to catch a plane out of Logan on Monday, and all my ID is for a thirty-eight year old guy named Leonard Williams. The only way they'll let me get on the plane is if I have someone there with valid ID who can vouch for me."

Terry asked the obvious. "Why would that take three days?"

"Because, silly, I'm going to need someone with me on Wednesday so I can get on a plane to come home."

Now the excitement started to build. Brenda jumped in first. "I'll go."

Terry looked scared. "Just one of us?"

I tried to play with them. "Well, I don't know. Which one of you loves me the most?"

Brenda smiled... she saw right through me. "Cut the tease, new girl. Where are we going?"

I held my breath for half a heart-beat, then just popped out with it. "L.A."

The squeals that burst out of the both of them only confirmed my decision to wait until the end of the night to share this with them. I doubt either one of them would have been able to serve someone a glass of water without spilling it.

I let them erupt for a minute before hitting them with the biggie. "Nobody interested in why were going there?"

They stopped bubbling and looked at me. "I've been invited to be on Jimmy Kimmel Live."

What I wouldn't give to have a picture of them at that moment. I've never seen two faces open so wide in my life. It was comical. I just smiled and nodded while they gaped at me. When the dam finally burst, it was overwhelming.

Thirty seconds into the revelry, Terry got a serious look on her face "Wait, Mom won't let..."

Neither one of them had noticed that Jessie was standing right behind them. "Yes she will." Startled, they both turned and then attacked her in a crushing bear hug.

People say that they always remember where they were and what they were doing the moment something really big happens; things like President Kennedy getting shot or the Challenger shuttle disaster. Sitting on the edge of that desk in that office was one of those moments for me. I know that looking at Brenda and Terry hugging my sister was what brought it on. It had taken five days of being a woman before the thought suddenly occurred to me; I can be a mother. That one little idea triggered a surge of emotions in me. A warmth that started as a flutter in my chest raced through my entire body. By the time the girls opened their hug to bring me into it, I knew my cheeks were beet red because I could feel the blood rushing to them.

-----

All it took was one look, and I knew she was going to be all right. Oh, she looked like she'd seen better days. The bandages wrapped around her head like a toque were quite dramatic. But the sparkle in her eye was still there. She gave me one of those big-eyed smiles as soon as she saw me. A laugh popped out of me when her eyebrows disappeared up under the bandages.

"Lenny!"

"I thought about bringing you a frappe, but they don't travel very well."

"I think you're right about that. I guess I'm just going to have to drop by the restaurant next time I'm in Belmont."

"Any time." I pulled up a chair and sat down. "How are you feeling? Donna tells me you're going to be fine."

"I'm not so sure." She suddenly had a serious look on her face. "I think that knock on the head scrambled my senses pretty bad."

"What do you mean?" No one had given me any idea that George was having any problems.

"Well, it's a bunch of little things. Like this morning, I was filling out the card to tell them what I wanted for lunch and dinner today, and my mind just kept wandering... it was hard to focus." She looked away from me. "Lenny, it was awful. When I was done, I looked at the card and my hands started shaking. I couldn't remember doing it, but all of the I's were dotted with little hearts."

I started laughing out loud. George just went on. "You gotta help me, Lenny. I'm so scared... my mind is turning to mush."

She just lay there with a faux-terrified look on her face while I laughed. Then she made a kissy face.

As tears of laughter rolled down my cheeks, I got up and made a dash for the washroom. Through the bathroom door, I heard George call out, "Hey Lenny, I think we're even."

Once I managed to straighten myself out and come back into the room, George was sitting up in a chair, smiling at me. "From what everyone tells me, I think I owe you a big thank you."

I sat on the edge of the bed. "It's kind of embarrassing, George. I think everyone is making a bigger deal out of it than it really is."

"Donna brought my grand daughters in to see me yesterday. They went on and on about you as if you could fly."

"And that's why it's embarrassing. I feel like an impostor, and any minute now, someone's going to stand up, point a finger at me and yell out 'hey, she's a phony!'"

"Len, you saved my life. That's real."

I nodded my head in agreement, then went on. "I got a phone call last night. I've been invited to be on one of the late night talk shows."

"That's fantastic." She saw the ambiguity on my face. "You're going to do it, right?" I didn't answer quick enough for her, so she asked again. "Right?"

"I said I would, but it doesn't feel right. I just want to make sure you're OK with it."

"What the hell do I have to do with it?"

"George, you're one of the most honest, level-headed people I've ever met... I need your take on this. To me, everything that's gone on the last couple of days makes me feel like I'm just milking your misfortune... I feel bad feeling good about all of this. Am I wrong?"

"Yeah, you're wrong."

I felt a rush of relief. "Really?"

"Lenny, this bubble shit is probably screwing up a lot of people's lives right now. Think about it... fifty year old guys suddenly finding themselves married to kids, women whose husbands are girls now, kids with a parent younger than they are... a lot of sad stories. So if everyone wants to latch on to you... if they want to point at you and say 'hey, there's a happy ending', then let them have that." She lit up with a smile. "And if letting them have that means you get to have a good time for a while, then so what. Enjoy it."

Like I said... I'm so glad I met George on that bus.

-----

"Mom wants you to come in for a minute." Terry was shivering beside my car in their driveway.

"She knows we have to be at the airport by eight, right?"

"Yeah, she knows. C'mon, it's freezing out here."

I gave my head a little shake, got out of the car and followed her inside. The door wasn't finished closing behind me when it started.

"Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday dear Lora,
Happy birthday to you."

Jessie and the twins started clapping as Kelly walked up to me carrying a cup cake with one little birthday candle in it. "With everything that's been happening, we didn't get the chance to plan anything for you yesterday."

The twins came up and hugged me while Jessie added, "Right, and this one was too special to miss. After all, this is Lora's first birthday."

Kelly jumped back in with, "Oh, I just had a thought. This would have been your thirty-ninth, right?"

I nodded. "Yup."

"You don't look anywhere near thirty-nine now. How's that going to work?"

"A woman came to the hospital and filled out some forms with me to register my new age and name. She said I could pick anything I wanted to, so I thought it would be easiest to remember if I kept the same birthday. Yesterday, I officially turned twenty-one."

Jessie nodded. "That was pretty smart. If you picked anything younger, you never know when some bureaucrat at city hall might decide to revoke the restaurant's liquor licence."

Terry piped up. "I can't see that happening. All the bureaucrats at city hall are in the same boat as Aunt Lora."

While everyone chuckled at that, Brenda asked, "Please tell me you're sticking with Lora Williams. I love that name."

What the heck, now was as good a time as any to tell them. "No, I decided that Lora Williams wasn't good enough."

That brought out a chorus of aw-why-not's. I let it die down before I explained. "I needed a middle name and couldn't choose one, so I chose two. Drum roll..." I turned and tapped on the table for a second. "Ladies you're looking at the brand new Miss Lora Brenda Teresa Williams."

That brought out a round of huge smiles. The moment was broken when Brenda grinned at her sister and said, "Nya nya... she put my name first."

Without missing a beat, Terry shot back, "Aunt Lora's a smart girl. She saved the best for last."

Everyone got a kick out of their jousting, but I got the best laugh with my explanation. "I just didn't want the initials T. B. in the middle of my name. It sounded too much like tuberculosis."

-----

I was glad that I'd done the shopping trip with the girls on Saturday. That, plus interacting with all of the customers at the restaurant on Saturday night gave me the confidence I needed to wade through the crowds at Logan. But having the twins with me made it easy. They had had a life time to get used to having people doing double takes around them, and their ability to ignore it was my safety line.

The crowds at LAX were different. Back in Boston, we were three good looking girls wading through hundreds of people, some of whom obviously recognized me. But when we got off the plane in Los Angeles, we were three good looking girls wading through a crowd of thousands. But it was a crowd that was more accustomed to seeing faces that they might recognize. So even though it was a lot more hectic in LA, I felt much more comfortable; more anonymous. That is until we saw Rachel.

I'd seen this sort of thing in movies, but I didn't think it ever actually happened in the real world. When we came out of the baggage retrieval area, she was standing there with a sign that said "Lora Williams". I could feel my cheeks turning red the moment I saw it. For a second, I considered just ignoring her and walking on by. But neither of the twins had a shy bone in their body. As soon as they saw the sign, they made sure I saw it too.

As the girls tugged me in her general direction, she saw us coming. She dropped the sign and smiled.

"Miss Williams. I'm Rachel Bextor... we spoke on the phone? Welcome to L.A. How was your flight?"

"Fine. Call me Lora."

"All right, Lora. We have a car waiting over this way." She started moving through the crowd. "And who are these two lovely ladies?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. These are my nieces Terry and Brenda."

Brenda joked, "I'm Brenda, the pretty one."

Terry shot back with, "Beauty fades, brains are forever."

Rachel didn't know how to take them until she looked back and saw them both smiling.

With Rachel's expert guidance, within minutes we found ourselves climbing into a waiting limousine. As the car pulled away from the curb, Rachel pulled out a cell phone, found a number and called it.

"Good afternoon. Rachel Bextor here. Could you have the Williams suite set up for three, please... yes... yes, that will be fine. Thank you."

When she closed her phone, I commented, "That's a lovely accent. Birmingham?"

She looked surprised. "You have a good ear. Just south of Birmingham... Redditch actually. Have you spent time there?"

"No... my grandmother was from there. A place called Great Barr, I think. Ever heard of it?"

"Absolutely. Lovely part of town. Small world, isn't it?" She seemed genuinely pleased that I'd pegged her accent. She went on. "OK, ladies, I need to explain a few things. This car and a driver are yours as long as you're in L.A. Tomorrow, Lora, you need to be at the El Capitan by four o'clock so we can go over a few things before we tape the show at seven. From now until then, your time is your own. Any questions, ladies?"

Terry couldn't help herself. "Have you met a lot of famous people?"

"Well, I suppose I have. But for the most part, they're just regular people like you and me."

The rest of the drive was taken up by small talk. The girls were quite impressed with the fact that, just a couple of days ago, Cee-lo Green had been sitting in this exact same car. I'd never heard of him. Personally, I was much more impressed by the way that Rachel was greeted like an old friend by the staff at the Beverly Wilshire.

-----

"Oh, come on Lora. Nobody knows you out here."

My mind was racing, trying to think of a reason why I couldn't do it. But the girls just wouldn't let up. I swear, if these two ever decided to start their own cult...

"A bikini? Really?"

Brenda was just getting started. "California... February... what did you think we were going to do, sit in the room and watch TV?"

Her sister backed her up with, " Think about where you are... if you showed up beside the pool in shorts and a T-shirt, you'd stick out like a sore thumb. Every girl there is going to be in a bathing suit. Believe me, you'll look fine. No one will bat an eye."

"But why a bikini?"

"I don't own any one-pieces, and I knew you wouldn't bring anything. So, you're stuck with this."

I knew there was no getting out of this. I pursed my lips and held out my hand. As Brenda put the suit in my hand, I looked at the two of them and said, "No pictures. Deal?"

She crossed her arms. "Lora Brenda Teresa, this is not a negotiation. Now you just march your pretty little but into that room and put on that suit. Do I make myself clear?"

I stared icicles back at her. Terry snickered first, then we all broke into a laugh. "OK, just promise me you two won't make me regret this. Please?"

Terry tried to soothe things. "You're a pretty girl in a bikini beside a pool in Beverly Hills. We might even see a few movie stars. I don't know about you, but this is one of my dreams come true."

A week ago, that would have been one of my fantasies too. But now that it was a reality, I was terrified. The old adage 'be careful what you wish for, you might get it' came to mind.

-----

Other than a woman with a couple of kids, there was no one around the pool. We picked out a table on the far side of the pool and claimed it as our own. As I was about to sit down, Terry stopped me.

"Ah, ah, ah... the cover-up?"

Brenda swooped in for the kill. "We're out here to get some sun, remember? You want to blend in, don't you?"

I gave them a defiant look. I was on the verge of losing it... it was a struggle to not blow up. The only thing that stopped me was the fear of causing a scene. So, just like that, I found myself lying back on a chaise lounge, covered only by about twelve square inches of pink. A waiter dropped off the three fruity somethings we had ordered and walked away. Professional that he was, he didn't make me feel the slightest bit uncomfortable about how I was dressed. I started to think that maybe I was going to get through this.

With the sun warming me and the breeze keeping me comfortable, I started to drift off to sleep. Something bumped into one of my chair legs, bringing me around. When I opened my eyes, there was a little girl reaching under me. Retrieving her ball, she stood up and looked at me.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"My name's Andrea Lena DiMaggio. What's yours?"

I couldn't help but smile at the little angel. "Hello Andrea Lena DiMaggio. I'm Lora Brenda Teresa Williams."

"Wow, you have a big name too. I like your hair. You're really pretty."

"Thank you."

"What's that on your arm?"

"It's a cast."

"What's it for?"

"The bone in my arm is broken. This keeps it straight while it gets better."

"Does it hurt?"

"A little bit."

"Do your sisters help you get dressed?"

I grinned at her assumption. "They help me when I need help."

"You're lucky. I wish I could have two sisters to help me. Bye."

Out of the mouths of babes. Yes, I am lucky to have these two in my life. They were right... swimming pool, bathing suit... no big deal. I was so glad I didn't spoil the day by shooting my mouth off, and it took the wisdom of a six year old child to make me realize it.

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Hey everyone, Lora here.
There are some things I leave out on purpose, because I know that your mind can fill in the blanks pretty good all on its own. For example, I never described the outfit that Lora wore while working in the restaurant. But I'm sure of two things:
-everyone can picture what she looked like, and
-everyone pictures her differently in their own minds.
I saw her wearing a white blouse, black pencil skirt, black tights and flats.
What did you see?

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Have you ever noticed how a fourteen dollar burger really doesn't taste any better than a four dollar burger? I suppose the old real estate rule of thumb must hold true for meals... location, location, location. Maybe I should think about relocating the restaurant. Hmmm, let's see... Lenny's on Wilshire? Nope... How about Lenny's on Rodeo Drive? Uhhh no. Oh, I got it. Lenny's in LaLaLand! Yeah, that's it. As I smiled at that thought, Brenda brought me back to the real world.

"Can we do something fun tomorrow?"

"What did you have in mind?" I took a bite of my over-priced burger.

She looked at her sister, then back at me. "We want to go roller blading on Santa Monica beach." They must have assumed that I would instinctively say no, because she timed it so that I had a mouth full of food. "Now I know you want to say no, but if you were still Uncle Lenny, you would probably be the one suggesting this."

I picked up my napkin and dabbed at the corner of my mouth.

Terry took over the attack. "You know... you were always the fun uncle, don't you want to be the...?"

"Sure, why not?" That stunned them into silence.

These were the moments that made life worth living. I love the affect I have on them when they expect me to say no, but I don't. They just sat there gaping at me, open-mouthed.

"Close your mouths, girls. Your gonna let the flies in."

The waiter picked that moment to walk up to our table. "How is everything, ladies?"

I put my burger down and looked at the girls. "He'd like to know how everything is, ladies."

Terry was the first to come around. "Huh." She slowly turned to look up at him. "Oh, ah... everything's fine." She spun her gaze back to me. "You do know that girls go blading there in their bathing suits, right?"

"Mm hmm." I just went on casually searching for the best fry on my plate as the waiter silently slipped away.

"And there'll be lots of boys there looking at us."

"Of course silly, it is a beach."

"And you're gonna do this with us, right?"

"You're mother would hang me if I let you go without me."

"So what's the catch?"

"No catch."

Brenda took over the cross-examination. "I don't get it. Why are you being so cool about this."

"Because this afternoon, you two were right." I stopped fiddling around with my food and looked straight at them. "That bikini terrified me. In fact, when we first got to the pool and you pushed me to take off the robe, I was on the verge of blowing up. But I bit my tongue, took it off and laid down. And you know what happened? Nothing. No one laughed, no one pointed... the world did not come to a crashing halt."

Their faces slowly changed from disbelief to smiles as they began to realize that I was serious. "Don't get me wrong... I'm still not comfortable with it. Actually, it damn well scares the shit out of me. But what the hell. I might just look like this for the rest of my life, so I might as well start getting used to it, right?"

Brenda looked at me and nodded. "Welcome back."

I shook my head a bit. "What do you mean?"

Terry knew what she meant. "Our favorite uncle-slash-aunt hasn't been around since we left home... it's nice to see you finally managed to show up." They were both beaming at me.

"OK, I owe you two a big thank you. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be hiding in the room right now." I paused to suck in a deep breath. "So, you might have to drag me kicking-and-screaming, but we will go to the beach tomorrow and have some fun. I'm just not so sure about the whole blading-in-a-bathing-suit thing, OK? You two can wear what ever you want, but I'm going to have to figure something else out, OK?"

I felt a nervous tickle in my chest when they just smiled and looked at each other.

"OK, what are you two cooking up?"

In unison, they sang, "Oh, nothing." They must stay awake at night and practice that.

-----

I'm so glad it was like this for the twin's first visit here. Warm but not hot, gentle breeze, clear skies. I'd been in L.A. before, so I knew how the air could turn brown and hide the sky. But this had been a beautiful day, and now it was a beautiful evening. As it cooled off a little, the three of us snuggled in and sauntered along arm-in-arm.

Brenda and terry were almost giddy, going over their plans for tomorrow. They had already checked out a place to rent blades, and they knew exactly where they wanted to skate. I wasn't sure if I was making a mistake by changing the subject, but what the heck.

"I don't get it. Here we are, strolling down Rodeo Drive, and neither of you has even hinted about shopping. All you've talked about is going to the beach."

We strolled past a couple going the other way, then Terry stepped ahead of us, stopped and turned around.

"You know, Lora, just because we're young doesn't mean we're stupid."

I didn't see that coming. "You lost me."

Brenda explained. "This place is a money pit."

I showed my naivety. "Oh come on. It can't be that bad, can it?"

She shook her head at me. "Honestly, Lora... you really are a guy inside that hot chick disguise, aren't you?"

That brought a laugh out of me. "OK wise guru, please enlighten me."

"Have you got seventeen hundred bucks to blow on a pair of shoes, because I know I don't."

That wiped the smile off my face. "You have gotta be kidding me."

Terry backed her up. "Right over there. And, you'd probably feel silly just asking how much something is."

"All right, all right... this place is out of our league. But you haven't even suggested doing a little window shopping. Not one peep out of either of you."

Brenda huffed. "Gimme a minute here. I need to think of a good way to explain this."

Terry jumped in. "Oh, I got it." She turned to look directly at me. "Lora, do you think an alcoholic would have a good time spending an afternoon sitting in a bar just looking at all the booze?"

Brenda smiled at that and gave her sister a high five. "Exactly. Anyway, I'd rather spend the day at the beach watching you trying to get used to being a hot chick."

Here come those butterflies again. "You know, I can always change my mind about that."

Brenda took this as her cue to play the humiliation card. As an older couple approached, she got down on her knees at my feet, hugged my thighs and started wailing up at me. "Oh please Aunt Lora... Please! You're right... I don't need to learn how to read. Just don't leave me on the street again! I'm begging you..." She drifted off into a rather convincing string of sobs.

The elderly couple were grinning as they stopped to watch the impromptu street show. When Brenda's theatrics calmed down a bit, the old guy winked at me and said, "Hey Cinderella. Get a job."

Brenda stopped sobbing, looked over her shoulder and asked, "Not buying it, huh?"

"Not for a minute." They both laughed as they walked away.

As Brenda got up and wiped of her knees, her sister observed, "Tough crowd in this town."

-----

I suppose it was just one more thing I was going to have to get used to. I had been almost drooling when I called room service. It used to be my favorite breakfast; eggs benedict and french toast with a side of bacon. Now, after one egg and a nibble of bacon, I was stuffed. As I sat there missing my old appetite, Terry snuck up behind me and put her hands over my eyes.

"We have a surprise for our favorite aunt."

When she pulled her hands away, Brenda was standing in front of me with a small white box in her hands, grinning from ear to ear.

"Ta da. Happy late birthday, Aunt Lora."

"Aw, when did you two find time to do this?"

"We bought it at home, but we were waiting for just the right moment to give it to you."

What ever it was, the two of them were bubbling to see me open it. Brenda handed it to me and I moved over to the couch to open it. A breath got caught in my chest when I pulled off the lid. I was literally stunned. I looked up at the two of them with a stupid look on my face, just as Terry flashed off a picture.

Looking back down at the box, all I could think to say was, "Oh shit." That brought a squeal of laughter out of the both of them.

Terry explained their choice. "It started out as a joke. We didn't have time to give it to you at home, so I just threw it in my suitcase. But now, since you're being so cool about everything... well, they're the perfect gift."

Brenda took over. "You said you didn't want to go blading in just a bathing suit, remember?"

"Really?" I pulled the pink spandex skirt out of the box, holding it up so Terry could clearly see the word babe as she took another picture.

She goaded me on. "Be a doll and let me get a shot of the matching tube top, OK Babe?"

I turned and looked at myself in the mirror on the wall. They're right, she is a babe.

"Santa Monica beach, huh? Oh, what the hell."

That flipped a switch in the room. Suddenly, their teasing was forgotten. Brenda, who normally wouldn't say shit if she had a mouth full, just couldn't help herself. "You gotta be fucking kidding me... you're actually gonna wear it?!" The look on her face was worth what ever embarrassment this was going to cost me later. I don't think she even noticed when Terry took her picture.

-----

"Miss, I don't know how else I can say it. I will be here when you come back, I'm not going anywhere. Period."

I turned and looked around the parking lot. I felt like I was a streaker about to run away from my clothes. The girls had already done a few laps around the car as I hesitated.

"Here. If it'll make you feel better..." He held out the car keys. "... you can take these with you."

Terry was getting tired of my stalling. "Oh, come on Lora. He said he's gonna be here. Let's go already."

I looked back at the driver. "I'll be here. Go have fun." He smiled and nodded.

"Aw, shit, I must be out of my mind..." I did a single lap around the car and in a flash of spandex and flesh, I was off.

The twins were hot on my trail with a chorus of "Woo Hoo Lora! Go get em, girl!"

It only took about twenty seconds before the two of them rumbled past me. If I didn't want to be out here alone, I was going to have to pick up the pace. When I finally caught up to them, it was only because they had slowed down. I passed them, stuck out my arms and slowed down to little more than a stroll. Once I had them under control, I came to a stop.

Seeing the look on my face, Brenda came up and put her hand on my shoulder. "Are you OK? Are you sure you want to do this?"

I smiled at her concern. "I'm fine... so far."

"You don't look fine. A minute ago, you looked like you were gonna throw up."

Terry offered, "Do you want to go back to the car and get something else to wear?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that I haven't been on blades since last summer, and since then, well, I've kinda changed a little, ya know?" I looked back and forth between them for a sign that they understood. Sometimes, they could by a little dense. "New blades, new body, broken arm... hello?"

That got through to them.

"I just don't want to hit a patch of sand and end up landing on this cast, OK?"

Terry decided to play the dumb blond. "Like, why not? You can't break a broken arm, can you?"

Brenda added her own punch line. "You ditz. She's not worried about her arm, she's worried about the cast." She turned to look at me, head bobbing from side to side. "Lucky she's pretty, cause she ain't never gonna get rich with what's between those ears."

That set all three of us off. I swear, if these two had been on the Titanic, everyone would have enjoyed the sinking.

We rolled along at a comfortable pace for a few miles; soaking up the sun, chatting, joking and just plain laughing out loud when something dawned on me. I was closer to these two girls than anyone else in the world, yet here we were connecting on a level like never before. I was actually seeing the world through their eyes; they weren't my nieces any more; they were my friends.

Every guy and a lot of the girls turned to look at us as we went by. After a while, I realized that I didn't feel the slightest bit embarrassed by my outfit. In fact, it had totally slipped my mind... until I had the dubious pleasure of meeting Jordan.

As good as it felt to be out in the sun getting some exercise, we were only human. As we ran out of gas, we rolled to a stop and claimed a table at a snack shack.

"Anyone thirsty?"

"I could use a water."

"That, or a bottle of iced tea if they have it."

I sat down to pull a few dollars out of my sock. "Be right back."

As soon as I rolled up to the window, the forty-ish guy behind the counter started flirting with me.

"Ew, that looks like it hurt. You break that arm blading?"

"Nope. Sumo wrestling." He pretended to laugh too hard at that. Did I use to be this lame around women? "Do you have any iced tea in bottles?"

"Well, yes we do."

"OK, could I have one of those, and two waters please?"

"Of course you can." He turned around, pulled them out of the fridge and put them on the counter. "Six dollars for the pretty lady."

As I paid him, I heard from behind me, "Have you ever seen one of those useless warning labels that you know just doesn't need to be there?"

I scooped up my drinks and turned around. One of the most well-built, well-tanned, twenty-something guys I had ever seen was standing there smiling at me.

"Useless labels... like what?"

"You know, like on a coffee cup, it says Danger, Hot."

I had no idea where he was going with this. "OK... and?"

"And like the nicest body I ever seen, with the word babe written across her butt. You'd have to be blind to not know you're a babe."

I couldn't help myself. I had to smile and roll my eyes at the incredible corniness of the guy. And of course, he took my smile the wrong way.

"Hi, I'm Jordan."

"I'm sure you are."

"And you are?"

"A guy in drag."

While he broke out in a riot of laughter over that, I looked over to the twins for an escape. No help there... they were both paying all their attention to what looked like a smaller version of Jordan. Going with the 'safety in numbers' theory, I left Mr. Kansas catching his breath and headed over to the girls. Jordan didn't take the hint; when I rolled up to Brenda and Terry, he was right there beside me.

"One water, one iced tea."

"Oh, thanks. Lora, this is Kyle. I see you've already met Jordan."

Kyle smiled and stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

That surprised me. I was expecting another silly line. I smiled and shook his hand.

"Brenda tells me you ladies are from Boston. Great sports town."

Terry piped up with, "Hey, I told you we're from Boston. I'm Terry."

He smiled, then pointed at them one at a time. "OK, Brenda, water and Terry, tea. Got it."

Jordan decided to blunder into the conversation. "So what brings you three hotties out to L.A.?"

Before I could think of a way to deflect the question, Brenda pointed at me. "She's going to be on the Jimmy Kimmel show tonight." Well that cat managed to get out of its bag awful fast.

"Wow, hot and famous. You an actress?"

I had to shut down this line of questioning before one of the girls let the truth slip out. "No, world karate champion."

"Wow, you can pin my ass to a mattress any time you want to. Ever fight naked?"

I noticed Kyle shaking his head and rolling his eyes at his friend's stupidity. As if there was any doubt as to Jordan's status as a complete fool, fate gave him a chance to prove it. A couple of unlucky guys chose that moment to blade past holding hands. Neanderthal-boy yelled at them.

"Hey, this ain't Frisco, you fuckin' faggots!" He tried to fling some water at them from his bottle, but all he managed to do was get Brenda soaking wet.

Kyle put him in his place. "You idiot." Jordan had no idea what he'd done. Kyle pointed at Brenda. "Go get her a towel, fool." He tossed his car keys at him. "Get one of the clean ones out of the trunk."

Jordan looked down at Brenda. "Sorry about that. There oughta be a law against queers on the beach... and fat chicks, too."

Kyle was getting pissed. "Will you just shut up and go get that towel."

Once he was out of earshot, Kyle went on. "I'm really sorry about my cousin. You can't pick your family, and I'm stuck with him."

I liked Kyle's attitude. "Oh, I don't know. He does have one good use."

Kyle was curious. "What's that?"

"Every time he opens his mouth, he makes you look so damn good."

He genuinely smiled at that. "Thanks. It's Lora, right?"

"Mm hmm."

"I'm pretty sure I know why you're going to be on Kimmel tonight. I thought I'd seen you somewhere before, and as soon as Brenda here said your name was Lora, I put it together with the broken arm."

Brenda couldn't resist. "Yeah, that's her. Isn't that a frickin' amazing video?"

"Yes, it is." Kyle stuck out his hand again. As I shook it, he went on. "That was one of the coolest things I've ever seen. So you were in that bubble thing, huh?"

"Yeah. I was there." I really didn't want to have this conversation right now, but he went on.

"So were you changed a lot?"

Terry spilled the beans. "She used to be our uncle."

Kyle was stunned. "Whoa."

I wanted to get this subject changed fast, especially before caveman Jordan got back. "Your neanderthal cousin doesn't need to know about this, right?"

"Not right now. But I'm going to love telling him later. I can't wait to see the look on his face when I tell him you used to be a dude. It'll freakin' kill him."

I had a sudden flash of evil genius. I had to hurry though... I could see Jordan coming back with the towel. "Kyle, do you have a camera with you?" He nodded and pulled out his phone. "Want to set up Jordan?"

He grinned. "What have you got in mind?"

"Just follow my lead, OK?"

He smiled and nodded. Kyle walked up and handed the towel to Brenda. It was a useless gesture; she was almost dry already. But I used it to open the door for my little scheme.

I sidled up toward Jordan. "That was awful nice of you to go get that towel for Brenda. And I know just how to thank you. Anyone have a camera?"

Kyle played his part. "I've got one, why?"

"Why don't you get a shot of me and Jordan?"

He looked at Jordan. "OK. Move in close, cuz."

Jordan stepped up beside me. I got in tight, draped my arms around his neck and pulled one knee up in front of his groin. He was really getting into it. One of his arms went down to pull up on my knee, and the other went around my waist, pulling me in tight.

Kyle stepped back, held up his phone and said, "Say sexy!"

I laid my head on his shoulder and showed all of my perfect teeth.

Taking the picture, Kyle was grinning brighter than I was. "Got it."

I let go of Jordan and stepped back. "OK, Jordan, here's the deal. If I see that picture on your facebook page before one o'clock this afternoon, I'll say hi to you on the Kimmel show tonight. Deal?"

It was incredible how one hug could turn a bigoted asshole into a goofy puppy. "Sure thing Babe."

Terry was having a hard time keeping a straight face. She gave us the exit line. "Hey Lora, I think we're running a little late. Don't you think we better get going?"

Brenda took her cue. "Oh shit yeah. We gotta go."

I looked at Jordan and put the last nail in his coffin. "Call all your friends and tell them to watch Kimmel tonight. I'm gonna make you famous." I turned and looked at Kyle. "You'll make sure that picture gets posted, right?"

He had a knowing, devious grin on his face. "Lora, posting this picture is the most important thing in the world right now."

I really liked this kid. "I'm glad I met you, Kyle. See you around some day."

The twins said their good byes and we skated off. We only made it a few hundred yards down the beach before we had to stop to laugh. Terry managed to say, "I wish I could see his face when he finds out who you used to be."

Brenda really got us going by pointing out, "He didn't even ask how you were going to find his facebook to check if he posted the picture."

=====================

Hey everyone, comment time from me again.
I've really just fallen in love with these girls.
I wish I could spend an afternoon just hanging out with them.
I never had any imaginery friends when I was little...
I guess I'm making up for that now :-)

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Backstage, El Capitan Theater

"Oh, I'm afraid so, honey. We've got a lot to do and a short time to do it. So let's just get on with it, all right?"

"Ok, listen, Miss Bender... it's Jackie, right?"

"Mm hmm."

"OK, Jackie, I know you're just trying to do your job. And I really don't mean to be difficult here. But I don't need my nails done, I don't need my brows thinned out, and I most certainly do not want my hair done."

"Honey, if you think you can't look any better than you do now, then you're not qualified to make that call."

I shook my head. "Jackie, that's not the point. I have no doubt you can make me look better. I'm just not comfortable with the whole idea. I think I look good enough already."

"Girl, we don't do 'good enough' here." She stepped back and peered at me. The look on my face made it clear she wasn't making an ally out of me. She shrugged her shoulders, turned and picked up a telephone. "Hey, it's me again.... Yeah.... Could let Rachel know? OK, thanks."

Jackie hung up the phone, crossed her arms and gave me a you're-in-trouble-now look. Within thirty seconds, I could hear the clicking of heels echoing down the hallway. I looked over at the twins for some support, but both of them seemed to have found something fascinating to stare at on the other wall.

Rachel walked in with a smile on her face. "Hi Jackie, could we have the room for a minute please?"

"No problem." Leaving, she not-so-quietly muttered, "she's all yours."

Rachel took a seat beside Brenda, facing me. "OK, Lora, I understand. I really do. We're asking you to step out of your comfort zone, and you can't see any reason why this should be so important to us." She paused for a second, but didn't take her gaze off of me. "Does that sound about right."

She was good. That was exactly what was going through my mind. I just nodded my agreement.

"Right then. Here's why it's so important to us that you look your best. We're making a television show, and if nobody watches, we're all out of a job. So we want to do every little thing we can to grow our audience. We try to make the show as funny and as interesting as we can, but there are other little hooks we use to get people's attention. One of those hooks is trying to make sure that everyone appearing on our show looks as good as possible. Especially the women. Because when a chap sees a beautiful woman on our show tonight, it might just make him want to tune in again tomorrow night. That might seem a tad sexist, and it probably is. But we didn't make the world, we're just trying to do business in it. Are you with me so far?"

Again, I nodded.

"All right. So that's why you looking beautiful is important to us. Now I know you're wondering how this could possibly be important to you. Well, I'd like to offer you a business proposal. If you let Jackie come back in here and do whatever she thinks is necessary to make you into a goddess, and then you let Erica take you over to wardrobe and put you into a spectacular outfit, then I can guarantee that Mr. Kimmel will personally interrupt his busy evening to encourage his national audience to pay a visit to your lovely restaurant." She paused, letting her offer sink in. "A nationally televised plug for your restaurant, and all you have to do is let us make you beautiful. Do we have a deal, Miss Williams?"

I struggled with the decision for all of two seconds. Looking at Rachel looking at me, I tilted my head, raised my eyebrows and nodded. The stress that had been obvious in her smile disappeared.

"Brilliant." She got up to leave. "Oh, and Lora, in spite of any reservations you may still have, I'm sure that this evening will be a very pleasant experience for you. I'll let Jackie know she can get started."

As soon as she was out of the room, Terry huffed. "Wow, you told her."

-----

El Capitan Theater

"Ladies and gentlemen, we all know that last Tuesday, something absolutely inexplicable happened in downtown Boston. Thousands of people who were just going about their daily routines suddenly had their worlds turned upside down. Each one of these thousands of people have an unbelievable tale to tell, but the story of one of these people has managed to capture the minds and the hearts of everyone around the world."

"Of course, I'm talking about the incredible internet video showing one person's selfless act of courage for a friend. And I'm sure that everyone here tonight has already seen it, right?

The audience started clapping and whistling. Jimmy waited a few moments for it to die down. "Is there anyone in the audience tonight who'd like to see it again anyway?" The crowd roared their approval. Jimmy smiled and let them go on for a while, then he played them with. "I'll take that as a no." When the laughing and hollering calmed down again, he went on. "All right then, ladies and gentlemen, here it is. I give you the viral video that has amazed people around the world... Bubble Babe to the Rescue."

There was a hush in the theater as the video played for the audience on a twenty foot wide screen. As the final scene of George laying on top of a passed out Lora ended, the silence broke. The audience wasn't just applauding, they were on their feet, cheering.

-----

Boston City Hall

As was often the case, when there was a glitch in one of his client's security systems, they wanted it fixed and they wanted it fixed now. Being in a highly competitive service industry, Mike knew that I'll-be-there-in-the-morning was the kind of answer that would have him out of business lickety-split. So it wasn't all that unusual that he found himself walking up to the main security station in Boston city hall at 12:20 in the morning.

The guard on duty, having made his scheduled midnight rounds, was somewhat annoyed at Mike's arrival just as he had gotten comfortable. The guard's routine included a half hour lunch break, which he regularly scheduled to coincide with his favorite late night show; Jimmy Kimmel Live.

While Mike got busy installing the replacement monitor he'd brought along, the guard went back to watching his TV. Mike wasn't really paying any attention to the guard's show until something extremely familiar caught his eye.

Mike was so amazed to be seeing his video on national television, he stopped what he was doing and watched it with the guard. As the video ended, the guard asked, "I wonder how she managed to get that video of herself doing that."

Without thinking, Mike corrected him. "Oh, she didn't make that video, I did."

The guard looked at him. "Yeah, right."

"No, really. I've got a hidden camera mounted on the outside of the building right over there."

Mike mistook the guard's stare for skepticism. "It's true. I record the images from a lot of my systems. You wouldn't believe some of the shit I've seen people doing when they don't know I'm watching them. Like just yesterday, this idiot was..."

The guard's stony expression finally woke Mike up to what he was saying. When he stopped talking, the guard took over.

"Please, go on... Tell me more about the people who don't know you're watching them. I'd love to hear all about it."

-----

El Capitan Theater

Jimmy let the audience go on for a full twenty seconds before motioning for them to calm down. "Tonight, we have a surprise for you. I'd like to introduce you to Boston's newest favorite daughter; the bubble babe that everyone loves to love... Please join me in giving a warm welcome to Miss Lora Williams."

I looked at Rachel. She smiled and nodded at me. That was my cue. After one final adjustment to straighten the hem of my dress, Erica stood and gave my shoulders a gentle push to get me moving. When I stepped out onto the stage, the audience erupted. There's no other word for it... they simply erupted. Smiling and waving at the crowd, I walked out on shaky legs. I had no idea that three hundred people could make that much noise; it was deafening.

-----

Natick Massachusetts

"Oh, hey, I think you're right Natasha."

"I told you. As soon as she got off the escalator, I knew it was her."

"How could you tell?"

"There was something a little bit off about the way she was walking, and then I saw the cast on her arm."

"What was she like?"

"Sweet as can be, but she had a weird sense of humor. I didn't get it at all."

"Really?"

"Mm hmm. When I told her my name, she asked me where Boris was."

"Maybe she knows another Natasha..."

"Well then she asked me if I ever did catch that moose and squirrel, and then she just cracked up. It took a while for her to calm down enough for me to do her ears. Even the girls with her didn't know what she was laughing about."

-----

El Capitan Theater

Jimmy was waiting for me with open arms out in the middle of the stage. As I reached him, he smiled and pulled me in close enough so I could hear him over the din. "I think they like you." All I could think to do was smile back at him and turn to wave at the audience again. Jimmy took a step back from me and made a ta-da motion toward me with his hands. The clamor continued as the crowd's excitement seemed to be feeding off of itself. Jimmy escorted me back to the chair next to his desk, then went around and took his seat. We both just sat there smiling at the crowd and each other as the roar continued. Jimmy shook his head and gave me a what-are-you-gonna-do look.

-----

Medford Massachusetts

"Oh look honey, isn't that the girl that you put on the front page last week?"

"Yeah, that's her mom."

"Well, isn't she lovely."

"She's a real sweetie."

"Why don't you ask her home for dinner one night, Kenny?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, mom."

"Oh, honey, why do you say that? Is it because she used to be a man?"

"No, mom. That's not it."

"Because nowadays, young people don't seem to care about little things like that. She certainly looks like a lovely girl now, doesn't she?"

"She's lovely, mom."

"Then why wouldn't you want to ask her here for dinner?"

"I don't think you'd like her, mom."

"Why in the world would you say that, Kenny?"

"She's not Catholic, mom."

"Look at how low cut that cheap dress is... she looks like a street walker."

Ken had seen it coming. From long experience, he knew it was best to just roll with it. "Sure mom, a regular working girl..."

-----

El Capitan Theater

Jimmy decided it was time to get on with the show, so he stood up and mimed as if he was begging the audience to calm down. The hooting turned to mild laughter, and then died down to the buzz of an excited crowd.

Jimmy sat down and turned to me. "So Lora, do you get this kind of reaction everywhere?"

I'd been prepped to say whatever I wanted to... so I did. "Well, only when I show up naked."

That set the audience off again. Even Jimmy was laughing.

Standing off in the wings, Erica nudged Rachel in the ribs. "See, I told you. She's a natural."

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Belmont Massachusetts

"Emma, you've gotta be kidding me. That's Brenda's Uncle Lenny?"

"I swear to god."

"That's un-believable. Well, at least she got some good looks. I've seen some of those girls that turned out ugly as sin."

"Oh, Bruce... really?"

"No Mom, he's right. I saw this one girl who looked so bad ..."

"Emma, stop right there. You know that looks aren't everything. At least Brenda's uncle came through it healthy."

"She might be healthy, but I think that bubble might have messed up her head a bit."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well... Lenny always seemed like a pretty normal guy. And he's given me a ride home plenty of times, so I know he knows where we live. But last Saturday morning..." She tried to think of a way to put it gently, but then just blurted it out. "Mom, she asked me if we live in Scotland."

-----

El Capitan Theater

Jimmy decided to try and ask some serious questions. "I gotta tell you Lora, you surprise me. You don't seem to be having any trouble at all adjusting to your new situation. Was it really that easy for you?" The look on his face told me that in spite of trying to be serious, he was on the edge of cracking up... so I pushed him a little closer to the edge.

"It's getting a little better every day. But the first time I looked at myself, I think I went into shock. It was overwhelming... I was just a puddle of sweaty flesh, lying there trembling in the middle of my bed."

I sat there with an innocent cat-that-ate-the-canary look on my face. And like the professional he is, Jimmy played it perfectly. Leaning forward, he just stared at me with a gaping, blank expression on his face. The hooting and laughing from the audience built into a crescendo. I let a grin form on my face, then I turned to look at the crowd, raised my eyebrows and shrugged. The crowd exploded. Still smiling, I looked back at Jimmy to see him lean back in his chair, shake his head and throw his pen back over his shoulder.

It took a good twenty seconds before the audience started to calm down. With perfect timing, he looked directly at the camera and said, "Right now, all over America, girl friends are smacking their boy friends."

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Santa Monica California

All five guys in the room were howling. When they calmed down a bit, Jordan popped out with, "She's fuckin' hilarious, but I still don't get why she's famous."

That did it. Two of them had to get up and run out of the room to try and catch their breath. Kyle actually had tears running down his cheeks. Jordan just grinned and looked from face to face, waiting for someone to explain it to him.

-----

El Capitan Theater

When the hoots ended, Jimmy went on with his questions. "I can imagine that the world must seem completely different to you now. How have people been accepting you?"

"Well, I don't really go around telling people about me, so most people just look at me, see a person, and treat me like anyone else."

"So no one's given you a hard time?"

I tilted my head down and looked at him through my brows. "Is that a trick question?" I could hear the snickering in the crowd..

"No, really, has anyone tried to make you feel uncomfortable about what's happened... about who you are now?"

"To tell you the truth, in the beginning, I was really worried about that. But it just didn't happen."

"I guess sometimes we don't give people enough credit. So, you were a single guy, right?"

"Yeah, that's right. I can only imagine the grief that some people must be going through right now over this... the folks with husbands, wives and kids. I really feel for them."

"What about your family? How did they take all of this?"

"Jimmy, I don't know what I would have done without them. They've been absolutely amazing. I think the biggest thing that's made it so easy for me is the way they've accepted all of this. Especially my nieces Brenda and Terry." I waved at them in the front row of the audience. "Is it OK if they stand up and take a bow?"

"Sure... girls, where are you?"

-----

Belmont Massachusetts

Jessie was beaming at the television. "Oh, look, there they are. It looks like they got some sun."

Ben offered, "I was thinking that about Lenny, too." He felt his wife's glare. "Whoops, sorry. Lora. It looks like Lora got some sun, too."

Kelly turned to look at her sister. "I wonder what the twin tornadoes have been dragging her through out there."

"That's the whole reason we said they could go with her. I knew they wouldn't put up with her trying to hide in a hotel room." Jessie smiled and tilted her head. "You know, Brenda took an extra bikini with her. I wouldn't be surprised if Lora came back with some itty-bitty teeny-weeny tan lines."

Ben changed the direction of the conversation. "I wish I could see the look on her face when they tell her. I hope one of the girls has a camera with them."

-----

El Capitan Theater

"So it's obvious that the bubble did a total make-over on the outside. Have you noticed any other changes?"

"Well, I used to enjoy really spicy foods, but not any more. Things I used to find bland taste amazing now."

"What about the way you think.... ?"

I wrinkled my brow at that one. "I'm not quite sure what you mean. Like, I still have all my memories... growing up, people I know, what I do for a living... that's all still there."

"I guess what I'm getting at is this. Up until last Tuesday, you were a heterosexual guy, right?"

"Mm hmm."

"Has that changed?"

I saw an opportunity to play with him. I just looked at him for a few seconds, then I looked down at my breasts. I glanced back at him and then turned to face the audience. Raising my eyebrows, I bobbed my head toward Jimmy in a get-a-load-of-this-guy motion. Once the crowd was giggling, I cupped one of my breasts in my right hand. The light laughter grew into a howl of woo-hoos and wolf whistles.

Once the room calmed down, I answered, "Jimmy, I don't think I'm any kind of a guy now."

-----

Santa Monica California

"I don't get it." Everyone in the room erupted at Jordan's stupidity.

Kyle couldn't take it any more. He threw his cigarettes at his cousin. "You fuckin' idiot... she used to be a guy!"

"Get the fuck out of here."

"Last week, she was a dude, and this week, you're sniffin' around him like a horny dog."

Jordan tried to think of something to say, but he was never very good at come-backs. One of the other guys in the room added, "Hey, yeah, you were snuggling in real close with him in that picture. Did you get his phone number?"

"Yeah, Jordie-boy, what's next? You gonna move up to Frisco and get a job packin' fudge?"

-----

El Capitan Theater

I think Jimmy was enjoying the banter more than the audience was. When the laughter died down, he went on.

"What I mean is, do you find yourself attracted to men now?"

I gave him a stern look. "Are you having an argument with your girlfriend, Jimmy? Because I'm not going to be your rebound, OK."

It was his turn to look out at the crowd for a laugh. I just sat there smiling.

"You really don't want to answer that question, do you?"

"The truth is that I can't answer that. Not yet, anyway. It's the one part of all this that I haven't let my mind go to yet. I don't really feel like there's any reason to rush it. After all, I'm about twenty years younger than I was a week ago."

He looked at me, smiled and nodded. "Fair enough." He reached out to shake my hand. I took it.

"Lora, you have been one of the biggest surprises we've ever had on this stage. I wish we could keep talking for hours, but unfortunately, we're just about out of time."

I smiled and tried not to blush, but it was no use. "Thank you Jimmy. Rachel, your producer... she said I was going to enjoy myself here, and she was right."

He turned to look out at the audience. "Folks, have we had fun with this girl or what?" The crowd started applauding. Terry and Brenda stood up while they clapped. Being in the front row, that triggered the rest of the crowd to rise to their feet as well.

Jimmy came around from behind his desk and took my hand as I stood up. He put his head to my ear and offered, "You did great Lora. We don't get a lot of ovations in here." Again, not knowing what to do, I just smiled and waved. Jimmy took a couple of steps away from me and stood in front of one of the cameras. As the applause died down, he started his speech for the television audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you ever find yourself in the Greater Boston area, you can drop in and visit Lora at her restaurant in Belmont, Massachusetts. For a great meal, a cold beer or the best frappe in Boston, do yourself a favor and stop in at Lora's on Leonard. That's it folks, thanks for watching. Tomorrow night, we have..."

Did I just hear him right. Did he just call my restaurant Lora's on Leonard?

I started to panic. I looked toward Rachel as she came walking out on stage. She was just smiling at the concern on my face.

"He said the wrong name."

She just continued smiling at me.

"My restaurant... he said the wrong name."

"No, he didn't." She motioned to the twins to join us on the stage.

"But he said Lora's on Leonard... it's Lenny's... Lenny's on Leonard."

As Brenda and Terry walked up, Rachel just pointed and said, "Talk to them", then turned and walked away.

They were giddy. Brenda started. "You were fantastic, Lora. It was like you've done this a hundred times already."

Terry backed her up. "Really. You should think about getting into this kind of thing. You're a natural."

"OK you two. Spill it." They both just stood there with looks of innocence on their faces. Dammit, they were good at this. "You both know what I'm talking about. Rachel said to ask you why Jimmy called the restaurant Lora's on Leonard."

Terry cracked first. "Happy birthday."

I felt like I was missing something. "What?"

Brenda couldn't keep it in any more. "Your friend George called Mom last weekend. She said she wanted to do something nice for you while you were out here. Mom, Dad and Aunt Kelly talked it over and decided to split it with her."

"Split what?"

"They put a new sign on the front of the restaurant yesterday."

I was stunned. I almost didn't notice the flash as Terry took my picture.

.

.

.
.

Carla stuck her head through the office door. "Lora, there's a group out in the dining room asking to see you."

I looked up. "Problem?"

"I'm not sure. A woman and three girls. They just sat down and then asked to see the owner."

"OK." I smiled, stood up and followed her out.

Even before I was all the way through the door, I knew who it was. I walked over to their table and sat down.

"Hello Donna. It's good to see you again." I turned to the girl on my right. "You know, in some cultures, it's not polite to wear a hat indoors." She just gave me one of her big-eyed smiles. "It's so good to see you up and around." I leaned in and gave her a warm hug.

"I guess the sign out front makes it official... I'm Lora now. But I'm not quite sure what to call you."

"Well, I think I'm too old to try changing that. I think I'm just going to stick with George for now." She looked at the two other girls at the table. "Lora, I'd like to introduce you to my pride and joy. This is Ingrid..."

"Hi Lora."

"...and this is Amber."

"Hi."

"Welcome back, ladies. Let's see if I can get this right... It's Thursday, so you must want two strawberry frappes, right?" They both nodded. I turned to look at George. "And a black cherry for you?"

"No, I'm not really in the mood for ice cream. But I could use something cold, though."

"Well George, I've just put something new on the menu."

"What's that?"

I smiled at her. "I've been making lemonade."

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Well, that's it folks.
I've always wanted to write something, and now I have.
One less thing on my bucket list ;-)
I would like to thank each and every one of you who have left (or are about to leave) a comment.
If there hadn't been such wonderful feed back from all of you,
this story would have ended at chapter one.

I might write again, I might not.
It all depends on if a good idea pops into my head.

Oh, and I know I'm going to be asked, so here it is:
The aliens in the prologue were attacked because they started it, two thousand years earlier.

Bye for now... Lora