Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story
-1-
Blue Bayou
My hometown of Blue Bayou, Louisiana is a small human settlement located on the marshy, reed and willow covered banks of Lake Pontchartrain. The village is located in the heart of what we Southern Louisianians call Acadiana Country. The population is small, with most of the business being located along the highway that runs through the center of town. Although the town does have a small, highly visited downtown area. Most of the businesses located on the highway are your average big chain stores. You know, Wendy's, McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, and of course your big box retail stores such as Dollar General, Wal-Mart, and Dollar Tree, my favorite place to eat Waffle House is located right on the Highway too.
Our downtown area is where you will find all your mom and pop owned stores. Stores that have been owned and operated by the same family since the town was founded and carved out of the surrounding swampland when the railroad finally came through this area following the American Civil War. Downtown is very charming. The streets like most southern towns are paved with bricks, a trolley runs from one end of the town to the other. Gas powered street lamps provided light on moonless nights. All of our town's celebrations and community events are hosted downtown.
Also our town's train station, a simple concrete platform with a roof and a bench is located downtown, and beside the highway it's the only link we have to the world outside this swampy region. It's here across from the train station and to the left side of the local Sonic that you will find a mom and pop grocery store that has been family owned and operated for more than sixty years.
And it's here at Sunflower Food Store is where I've worked for the past four years. I started working here when I first turned fourteen years old. My mom was good friends with the manager Mr. Carson and he decided to give me a shot, though he had his doubts. When I started here, I started off at the bottom of the ladder. I started off at the bottom of the ladder as what they call in the business an 'Curiosity Clerk' that is what they call the guy that stands at the end of the checkout stand and puts your items brown paper bags as they are sent rolling down the conveyor belt.
The job was simple enough. I would with nimble fingers reach up, pick the glass jars of pickles, and tin cans of cut green beans, and soft loafs of bread and put them nice and neat in brown paper bags. I would then rush out in the subtropical heat to load the items up in the trunk of waiting cars, Being awarded a dollar or two for my efforts. Then while I was out there I would gather up a few stray shopping carts and push them up front to where the shopping carts were kept.
Our shopping carts were these old school beasts. Made of cast aluminum these heavy metals could take one hell of a beating and keep on rolling. If you pushed five or six of these buggers together and trust me it was hell to get them rolling, but once you got them rolling it was like trying to control I got a damn freight train with a dog collar. And I'm going to this, once they got rolling real good it was hard to stop them. They did not stop on a dime or turn on a nickel.
Anyway at the end of my first year I was 'Promoted' if you can call that from being an 'Curiosity Clerk' to an 'Lead Curiosity Clerk' that is the guy who is supposed to train the other guys. The promotion came with a small pump in pay and allowed me to get the max number of hours allowed. A year or later I was 'Promoted' again from 'Lead Curiosity Clerk' to 'Stock Clerk' that came with another small bump in pay and finally allowed me to work a full forty hour shift each week that summer.
Last year, four years into my retail career and I'd just finished High School and wondering what direction I wanted to take my life, I received another promotion. Well it was not a promotion in the true sense of the word. I just switched fields, I was transferred from the Grocery side of the store to the Produce side. And given the new title of 'Produce Clerk' cause I came from the Grocery side. I was given yet another small bump in pay.
Now our Produce Department has three guys working in it. And the third guy one afternoon decided enough was enough to decide to quit on the spot. I mean the guy dropped his vest right there on the sales floor and stormed right out of the sliding doors into the bright sunshine. No two week notice, no warning, just up and gone like a fart in the wind. And so they threw me into fire. And that is what I do now, I work around five days a week, including Sundays.
Most of the time I come in at one in the afternoon and stay till around eight that night or sometimes nine when the store closes. I cull the department, that is removing all the smelly, mold encrusted produce two first shift guys overlook, fill up the sales items, fill up the stables for tomorrow, you know cabbage, lettuce, and cucumbers. I make sure the greens are iced down with chipped ice.
Collard, Kale, Turnip, and Mustard Greens are real big sellers down here. But you gotta keep them iced down, keep them crisp and extend their life. Or so I've been told by my boss. I don't question the wisdom behind it. I just do as I'm told.
And finally at the end of the working day or night I spray down the concrete floor with tepid water using an old as hell hose pipe that has been patched and patched again to hell and back and often leaks more water on the floor than it puts out. Yes, our store is so cheap they refuse to buy a new hosepipe. Anyway once you get the floor, nice and wet, you get a bottle of Dawn dishwashing liquid, the blue stuff we call it, squeeze a few drops or half a bottom the floor, then you get a good stiff broom and give the damn floor a good scrubbing. Then you spray it down again and you get a squeeze and get the water up and then you let the floor air dry overnight.
Sunday, though being the Sabbath day I get a bit of a break I normally work till around one in the afternoon. But I have to come in around five in the morning and work till one or even two. But normally I knock off when the other guy shows up and I've helped him get the department filled up again. When the local churches let out people come driving in here and though the 'Church Rush' as we call it only lasts about forty minutes or an hour at most. Those forty to sixty minutes are pure hell.
That produce section could picture perfect, like something you see on the cover of a magazine. And once the church rushed it, everything would be torn to hell and back. I mean that, people are bastards, and when it comes to produce everything has to be perfect. It is amazing how three to four hours of hard work can be undone in around an hour of crazed shopping.
Most of the time though I don't leave till nine when the store closes. I don't suppose getting that extra hour is going to anyone. For all this work. I'm paid the princely sum of twelve dollars an hour. And I have to say I've enjoyed working in the produce section the most. To me it's like working God's colors. Anyway I was on break at the time, now normally get a thirty minute break each shift, and on Sunday I get to take a full hour break.
This happens to be one such Sunday. I remembered I'd just finished eating a classic Southern Sunday lunch, the lunch today was dried out fried chicken with a seasoned crust that was hard enough one could have chipped a tooth on it. Anyway I'd picked the chicken clean. I mean only the bones remain and I'd just finished off my last swallow of RC cola. And now I was picking around the last few spotty remains of fried okra I had left on my styrofoam plate. Good thing about working later in the day shift was I got most of the deli I had left over from lunch at half price. And that suited my thrifty nature.
Anyway I was a fast eater with twenty minutes remaining on my break. I decided to browse a few of the blogs I follow on my phone. One of my favorites happens to be a blog called 'Country's Clean Caps' or as I liked to call it. C.C.C for short. Now I'd discovered 'Courtney's Clean Caps' around three years ago when I'd typed in the words 'Boys turned into Cheerleaders' into a Google search bar. I don't know what caused me to type those words into my Google browser that lazy afternoon. Looking back, I guess I was wrestling with some stuff. And well, boom the blog kind of fell out of the sky and into my lap.
If I can remember correctly I discovered C.C. C around the time I finally started growing my hair. For the first fourteen years of my life I'd worn my hair in a buzz cut, because that was the only style my former military dad would approve of. You see dad had left mom and I when I was fourteen years old. That had been around four or five years ago. When Dad was around all the time I'd been forced to keep my hair short, I'd always wanted to have long hair, and I detested having to have short hair anyway dad left mom and I and went to find work on the river to regain or rediscover his lost youth.
The last update I got from him was a year or so ago and that told us he was working the docks in either Rosedale, Vicksburg, Memphis, or riding the tug boats out of New Orleans. Anyway as I worked my way through C.C.C I discovered a section of the blog called “Courtney's top ten Transgender Stories” two of those stories just reached out and commanded my attention. The first one happen to be written by an author with the username Rasufelle, who wrote what I considered a classic of Transgender fiction, a novel length web novel titled 'Oh, Cheer' and another one was written by an author named Torey who's 'Switching Playing Fields' really inspired me. After reading those stories. I kind of wanted to try my hand at writing my own transgender character. I mean I'd been writing and posting stories online since I was fourteen years old. But most of those stories had been crap and I'd never achieved the level of internet fame I'd had aspired to.
Anyway as I had searched through that blog, I'd discovered a link to another site. One that was called 'Big Closet and it was like I'd stumbled across a hidden treasure trove. It was a story website that was devoted solely to TG ( Transgender) fiction. And well it was like a light switch had been flipped inside my head. I finally felt like I'd discovered an outlet for the stories I wanted to write. I remember I'd spent countless hours that summer reading stories housed on that site. In fact visiting had become part of my daily routine. But, fear held me back. I mean how could my stuff that at the best was Fanfiction.Net trash compete with the masterful works of prose of Rasufelle, Torey and the newest edition to the trinity of writers that I looked up to Emma Anne Tate! Thus fear, and my own self doubt seemed to hold me in a state of perpetual bondage.
Anyway I ramble.
Anyway my break was just about to come to an end. And I was just about to start the downward slide toward finishing out my day when my phone started to buzz. I could tell by the ring tone who it was, so without giving it a second though I reached down and accepted the ball. And accepting the call was more trouble than it was really worth. I had one of those new phones were had to swipe the green call button that appeared in the center of your screen to accept the call.
Once I had accepted the call I took a deep breath and softly intoned under my breath, 'Heat from fire, fire from heat' and once I found the right tone of voice I intoned it several more times in quick succession before finally working up the courage to say 'Hello'.
“Hello?” I said blushing at how light and airy my voice sounded. A pause followed, followed by a very confused person on the other end of the call saying.
“Oh! Hey! Sorry I must have gotten the wrong number! I was trying to call my cousin, but I must have gotten the wrong number! Sorry the jackass must have changed numbers on me without telling me.” A frantic female voice on the other said. I could picture her waving her arms around like a windmill as she spoke.
I giggled a little, my voice had indeed started to soften. If I could fool my cousin, who by all accounts was one my best and oldest friends, who had known me since boyhood, who had shared with me all manner of adventures. Then those painful hours I'd spent doing voice training must have really been paying off. I'd been doing the whole 'Heat from fire, fire from heat' thing over and over again. Because for one I'd always hated the way my voice sounded and detested the accent I'd been born with. Having been cursed from birth with a deep, southern accent people often mistook me for being dumber than a sock full of pebbles.
“Sorry about that cousin Jasmine.” I said blushing. “I just wanted to see if my new voice had fooled you any!” I said as I feel into a fit of girlish giggles.
“Sunny!” She scolded gently, “I should drive down to that store and beat y'all ass for that! For a moment I thought I thought I had gotten the wrong number and you had changed numbers without telling me. Lord boy I should have expected you to pull something like that. After all, I've known you since you were knee high to a grasshopper.” Jasmine took a deep breath and collected herself.
“Anyway, I was just calling you to see if you wanted to get together this afternoon. I'm in town, visiting with maw and paw. And I decided to give my favorite cousin a shout.” She said. “And thought about getting a bite to eat and catching up a bit before I gotta catch this evening train back into the city. Cause you know I can't stay out here in the country too long. Not safe for my kind.” Jasmine said, forcing herself to laugh a little. But there was no humor in her voice.
“Sure,” I paused. “I get off in about an hour or two. How about we meet up at the Waffle House right off the Highway? The one next to Days Inn?” I said reaching up and without thinking about it I started to twirl some loose strands of my hair around my finger.
I heard Jasmine starting to sigh on the other end of the phone. I'm sure she was pressing her fingers to her forehead right now, doing her best to try to think of somewhere else to go. But if I'm honest. The local Waffle House was really the best place to get something to eat in this town. Well not the best place to eat. But the places to eat if you were on a shoestring budget and at the moment I was having to count every penny, nickel, dime, and quarter. I was pretty much living from paycheck to paycheck like most Americans were.
“I guess. I was hoping for a good steakhouse, but because I love you, I guess a Waffle House will have to do.” She said, “I guess I will see in an hour then. My train leaves around six and I want to be at the station waiting for it. Oh, and Sunny before I end this call, what with the voice?” Jasmine asked me, it was a direct question, one I could not dance around.
I took a deep breath and peered toward the ceiling.
“I don't know, I guess I've been trying to sound more feminine lately.” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. I swallowed hard.
“Hey listen.” I said after a brief thirty second pause of pure silence. “It was just a dumb prank okay. I did mean to offend you or anything. I know you're still undergoing your changes. I just wanted to see if all that nonsense I was reading about 'Heat from fire, fire from heat' stuff I'd been reading on the internet amounted to anything. So if I offended you Jasmine I'm sorry, I'm not trying to mock you or anything.” I said quickly.
Another thirty seconds of silence passed. And then Jasmine came back on the line and in a gentle, almost motherly tone of voice asked me.
“Casper, how long have you been doing this whole 'Heat from fire, fire from heat' thing?” She asked.
“I don't know, maybe a few weeks at most, at least six weeks.”
“Oh well keep up the good work!” Jasmine said before she discounted the call.
I was left speechless as I just sat there peering up at the ceiling. Doing my best to count the little pieces of floating dust that seemed to hover around my head. I finally forced myself to take a deep breath, close my eyes and cross myself. A habit I've had since boyhood. Once I'd finished crossing myself I forced myself to stand back up and march toward the time clock. The worst part of going on break was having to force oneself to get back on the clock and resume their normal task. And so I had to force myself to stand up and shuffle toward the time clock.
To be continued. Maybe?
Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story
-2-
What if we'd both been born as girls?
I took a deep breath as I walked into the dinning area of the local Waffle House. Going out to eat at least once a week at the local Waffle House was one of the few, simple luxurious of life I could afford right now on my shoestring budget. And as I expected I found cousin Jasmine sitting at the plastic bar counter. She seemed to nursing a glass of ice cold coke-cola and she seemed a bit crestfallen. Going on the way she was dressed, she was wearing a peach colored dress with white wedge heels, and her long, flowing brown hair was styled back in a tight bun all told me she had expected to be dining somewhere else. Maybe in one of the high end seafood restaurants called the historic district of town home? Maybe even the local Mexican restaurant or one of the area's famous steakhouses? I wish I could afford those, but they were beyond my means now.
“Hey Cousin.” I said, taking a deep breath as I eased down beside her. “You look good, who is the lucky man?” I said, trying to joke a little. A few tense moments of silence passed before Jasmine turned her body around and looked at me, she then slow blinked and then shook her head and blew out a jet stream of hot air.
“You know I totally forgot how wonderful the smell of frying bacon is.” She said, smirking a little. “This brings back the memories though. I used to eat at Waffle Houses all the time when I was in school. You know back in my life. Back when you knew me as Cliff and the rest of the family was acting like I was dead or something.” She said, smiling a bitter sweet smile as she bent down and took a sip of her coke through the straw.
I blinked and blinked again. I had never in a million and one years expected her to bring that up. You see But when I was twelve and she was sixteen, there an four year gap between us, she had started her transition. I remember hearing something about it through the grapevine. I was dealing with my own problems. Wrestling with things I was still wrestling with. Like my dad trying his best to whip me into shape. But I just remember being told one day my favorite cousin and best friend in the world had gone away and that I was never going to see him again, he was never going to come back. Till well a year ago when this woman I never meet had walked up to me and introduced herself to as Jasmine.
At first I thought she was new to town, like she had just moved or she was running for dogcatcher or something. So after she introduced herself to me, I also introduced myself to her. And then, I swear I would never forget this moment for as long as I live, because it felt like somebody had struck me with a frying pan. Anyway, this woman placed her hands on her hip, leaned over, and pointed to me and in the most southern way possible exclaimed, 'Oh my word! Casper Edward Fisherman, have you forgotten your dear old cousin' and well after that one thing leads to another. I made a mistake in naming her once, but she gently corrected me and even lightly scolded me for it. Anyway after that Cousin Cliff became Cousin Jasmine.
“Sorry it's the only place I can afford on my shoestring budget.” I said blushing as I looked down at the menu. “I don't really have a lot of money to spend right now.” I paused. “I'm kind of living paycheck to paycheck and I'm trying to save as much as possible. College is kind of out of the question right now too. I still don't know what I want to go for and well if I'm frank with you my twelve years of public education has kind of failed me.” I said, taking a deep breath.
“I totally understand, there is a recession going on, and you're making decent money right now. But hey, kudo's for you. I heard from my mom that you finally decided to move out from under your mothers demanding shadow. Even if the place you decided to move in was a converted garage apartment located above my dad's auto repair. And he's letting you live there for free if you keep an eye on things. But you're still trying to find your own way in this crazy, mixed up word. But can I be blunt with you for a second?” Jasmine said as she shifted around and peered at me.
“I guess.” I said, picking up the menu again and looking down at it. I decided I would settle on the waffles. Waffles and sausage and maybe, and maybe a second order of waffles.
“So how long have you been inside the egg?” She said, smirking a little as she took another sip from her drink. She seemed to be sizing me up, like how somebody would often stick a long stick into a mud hole to test the depth or something along those lines.
I blinked and blinked again as I peered toward Jasmine. I swallowed hard and shifted my eyes away from her for a moment. At the present moment I found myself totally lost for words. I had no idea how to respond to that question. So instead of responding I told the girl behind the bar what I wanted to order. After I finished placing my order, I noticed that Jasmine was still peering directly at me, still clearly expecting her answer.
“I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Bull.” She said grinning.
“Really!” I said, taking a deep breath. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.” I quickly added.
Now if you don't know what it means to be 'Inside the Egg' allow me to enlighten you a little. 'Egg' is a term that is popular in the transgender community. I've seen it appear often in such online communities such as Reddit and Discord and even on some Facebook groups. An 'Egg' from what I could gather from my own research is someone who is showing signs to others in the community of being transgender but hasn't come to realize it yet. The word 'Egg' is applied to the person because this person has not yet 'Hatched' yet. That is to come to terms with being transgender. It's weird, but then again most memes on the internet are.
Now, I did not consider being transgender. True I enjoyed reading stories about transgender characters, and I enjoyed hanging around transgender Discords, and yes sometimes often late at night or the wee hours of the morning just before dawn what my life would have been like if by some chance God had deemed it fit for me to be born a girl. But those were just fleeting ideas.
“Whatever.” Jasmine said, taking a deep breath. “I guess you're not ready to hatch yet!” She said, taking another sip of her coke.
I blinked and blinked again and then I took another deep breath.
“Jasmine, can I ask a personal question?” I said as I peered down at the food that was just placed down in front of me. Jasmine turned around and blinked as she looked at the massive mountain of golden, honey colored waffles that hung off my plate.
“Sure. I guess, but the answer is always fish.” She said smiling. “Are you really going to eat all that?” She asked as she pointed toward my plate.
“If you and I'd been born girls, instead of boys, like we'd grown up as girls. What would have happen? What would have been different? I mean we were kind of close growing up. But not really, do you think things would have been different?” I asked as I started to slice the waffles into bite size pieces. I was famished from work, and my modest lunch had long since left me behind in the dust.
The moment I finished asking my question was the moment she just peered at me, she titled her head to the side and gave me a sideways smile.
“Well when we were growing up. I tended to think of you as kind of that baby brother I never had. So I guess that would have been the same, only I would have been the older sister and you would have been the little sister. You know I had an older brother, but we were never really close. We just liked different things growing up. And well you and I liked the same things growing up. Lego's, Thomas the Train, Pokemon, Anime, Magic The Gathering and all that geeky stuff. We kind of bonded on that. I think just before I started my transition I even got you into anime. I know I jump started your Pokemon career by giving you around six hundred Pokemon trading cards.” She said smiling as she peered toward me.
I nodded my head, and instead of uttering a word I kept attacking my plate of waffles.
“I guess, we would have still played with Lego's cause they do have themed sets aimed toward girls. And I guess instead of Thomas the Train it would have been Barbie Dolls. Or maybe it would have still been Thomas the Train because girls can like trains too. But instead of G.I doll's or wrestling men or 'Action Figures' as we liked to call them, I guess we would have played with Barbie Dolls and acted out some of our favorite scenes from our favorite Disney Sitcoms.” She smiled and paused to take another drink of her coke-cola.
“And I'm sure as we got older, I would have painted your nails, and given your pointers on make-up and hair care, I'm sure I would have tried my best to influence your fashion. And when I finally learned to drive, I would have made a point to take to those big malls in Baton Rouge or across the lake in New Orleans to shop for stuff. I'm sure we would have shopped for school clothes together, I'm sure I would have helped to pick out your prom dress. And I guess by now I would have been married. And had at least one child. And yes, you would have been invited to attend my wedding and I would have had you as maid of honor or something.”
I nodded my head.
“I guess we would still have gotten into Pokemon too, and video games. Though I'm sure once I'd gotten into High School, I would have tried to become popular and might have been embarrassed of my dorky, kid sister who hung around me. I might have snapped on you and broken the friendship then. Or at least shunned you for a bit.” Jasmine paused and peered toward me.
“I hope that answers your question? And are you sure you're not in the egg?” She added. “Because for somebody not in the egg you asked a very telling question. A good question, but a telling question nonetheless.”
“I don't know.” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Well, let me make a suggestion. If you'd been born a girl? What name would you have wanted your mom and dad to give you? I selected my name because she was my favorite Disney princess.” Jasmine said, peering at me.
“I guess I would have liked my mom to have given the name 'Isabella' and I'm sure growing up everybody would have called me 'Belle'. And for the middle name. 'Maria' is Latin for Mary and that would go with 'Isabella' and plus it would have honored Our Lady. It's also my mom's middle name and it was her mom's middle name and her mom's middle name. And of course Fisherman.” I said, shoving more waffles into my mouth.
“OH GOD!” Jasmine laughed. “Oh honey child. If there was any lingering doubt in my mind that you were in the egg, you just took a freaking sledge hammer and smashed it into tiny fragments and then you took a shop hammer to those fragments and smashed them into dust! You really put some thought into that name. I'm proud of you!” She said smiling as she peered toward me.
“What?” I said peering toward Jasmine, I'd finally finished off my waffles and was now attacking the strips of chewy bacon.
“Isabella Maria Fisherman.” She said smiling. “I like it, now why the first name. Why would you have wanted your mom to name you 'Isabella' ? Come on with it. I want to know this new cousin of mine.” She said as she called a refill on her coke-cola.
“Well.” I also called for another refill of my coke-cola. “Remember growing up, I always wanted to watch 'Beauty and the Beast' no matter how many times I'd seen it. It was my all time favorite cartoon movie.” I said smiling.
“You know, the more I think about it, you would have really been an Disney girl growing up.” Jasmine said as she took another sip of her coke-cola through the bendy straw. “I think you would really been a girly-girl. If fate had deemed it fit for you to born a girl. So, here what I would do if I was in your shoes right now. See I don't know about you, but I get a copy a daily copy of the The Times-Picayune sent daily to my office daily and well the the The Times-Picayune covers all social life and civic events going on in this area. It seems in a fortnights time there going to something called an Womanless Beauty Pageant held in this now. Now the mayor along with a few of the other councilwoman want this to be a tasteful and realistic pageant. So these guys are trying to pass. Now what I would do is this, my store to sponsor me. And while on paper your entering the pageant as 'Casper Edward Fisherman' known to his family as 'Sunny' because his grandmother use to call him 'Sun-Baby'.” She paused and took another lip sip of her coke-cola.
“In y'all mind you will be entering this pageant as Isabella Maria Fisherman. The undiscovered belle of this small one horse town.” Jasmine then smiled and raised her glass of coke-cola up to and saluted me with it. “After all, you gotta walk before you can run. And trust me, I think you are already ready to come out of the egg. We just need to get you to work up the courage to break out of your shell.” After that Jasmine drained her glass of coke-cola, and called for both of our tickets. I raised my finger in protest, but she just smiled and shook her head.
“No, cousin this dinner is on me.” She she said as she handed the girl working the counter her plastic card. “Just do me a favor hon. Go home and think about what we talked about tonight. I'm not trying to tell you how to run your life or anything. But just remember this Father time waits on no man or woman. So decide now what direction you want to take life. And remember you're not alone in this fight. The whole community will stand behind you. And I'm here with you too.”
I was stunned into silence. I remained silent as Jasmine placed her credit card back into wallet, and slipped her wallet back into her purse. I remained silent as she watched her put her purse straps over her shoulder and walk out the door. And I remained silent as I watched her vanish into the inky darkness. I knew she had a late night train to catch back to Baton Rouge and I also knew I had a lot of thinking to do.
To be continued. Hopefully?
Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story
-3-
A Proposal and Getting Promoted
I thought about what Jasmine told me for a few days before I could finally muster up the courage to talk to my manager about getting Sunflower Food Store to sponsor me. The manager of my store happened to be a middle age creole woman by the very southern name April May Fair. She was small, but she was a firecracker. She was the kind of woman who would scold the Devil himself if he dared to walk across her freshly mopped floor with dirty hove prints . No scratch that, she would not only tell the Devil off, she would then reach up and take him by the ear and twist the ear around. And once she had him by the ear she would drag him into the nearest corner and then make him put his nose in the corner. She was the type of woman who prayed the Holy Rosary in broken French with bits of Latin added in for flare and then wrestled alligators out in the swamp for fun.
And as I climbed the wooden steps that lead to her office, I started to question my own sanity. I was thirty minutes early for one of those rare seven o' clock shifts. And since I was early, and the store was still closed, I'd asked if I could talk to her. Her answer had been a grunt followed by being told to come up to her office. That had been just five minutes ago. I further questioned my sanity as I knocked upon the wooden door.
“Come in!” A voice that would have shook the very core of the earth and made the legions of Hell tremble and squat in their pants bellowed from the other side of the door. I took a deep breath and breathed a quick prayer to Lord God. Whom I'm sure was looking on amusement as I pushed in the brass door handle and stepped into the office. I was greeted by Mrs. Fair, standing in the middle of the office. The office smelled of burned coffee grinds and paint. Anyway, her tiny black eyes were peering directly at me. Her arms were folded across her chest and it seemed the very fires of Hell dance upon the surface of her eyes.
“So Mr. Fisherman. What can I do for this fine morning? I would offer you to take a seat but you're due to be on the clock soon. So let's just cut to chase shall we? After all, there is an old saying that goes like this 'Time is money' and neither of us have the time nor the money to pissing away.” She said as she unfolded her arms and stepped behind her desk.
“Mrs. fair. I would like the store to sponsor me for Blue Bayou's first annual Womanless beauty pageant. Since other local businesses are sponsoring their girly looking employees and Kay's are second biggest rival after Wal-Mart has entered one of their employees I think it's only right that we do the same. Plus all money raised from the event goes to support our local hospital. And we all know they need any and all help they can get.” I had to spit out those words before my courage failed me.
And just like that I thought I would soon find myself out of work and lined up with the others in the unemployment office. And so I froze and awaited with baited breath for the fearsome tirade that I was sure was about to be poured down upon my head. Instead, Mrs. Fair smiled. It was a creepy smile, but a smile nonetheless. She was really smiling, and that fact alone scared the pants right off of me. I've only seen her smile once before and that was when she hired me some years ago.
“Okay.” She said, still smiling. I really wished at this point she would stop smiling. “I think that's a capital idea! And I'm sure we can manage that. I mean, don't take any offense to this, but hell Casper you look like a girl most days. And you even talk like a girl, and you got all that damn hair on your head too. Hell, I get dozens of people every day wanting to know who that wonderful young lady is that I have working the produce counter.” She said smiling.
“Hey, Casper.. would you mind taking your ponytail holder out of your hair?” Mrs. Fair asked.
I blinked and blinked again. Now, most of the time I chose to wear my hair in a low, manly ponytail or I wore it tucked under my hat. The dress code at Sunflower was not really strict in the truest sense of the word. But it was kind of frowned upon for the stock clerks to have their hair long enough to touch the collar of their shirts. And my hair at this point reached down to the middle of my back. And in order to keep down the barbs from some of the older co-workers and Mrs. April's Shift Leader. A fat, pot belly, balding man who smoked like a freight train by the name of Tim Peoples, I tended to keep my hair in a braided ponytail and have it tucked under my shirt.
“Sure.” I blinked as I reached up and removed the black hairband. After removing the band, a cascade of raven colored hair spilled down around my shoulders. Mrs. April took a few steps back and took a deep breath and finally after a few tense moments of silence said.
“Damn you have some long ass hair.” She said, sighing. “Well on the bright side you won't need a wig, your hair longer than most of the cashiers here. And looks a lot better too.” She added as she settled down into her office chair. She then folded her arms behind her head and peered up at the naked light bulb that hung down from a bundle of naked wires just above her head. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath.
“Something inside me is telling me that this is going to blow up right in my face. But also we need to do something because right now with Kay's entering one of their employees into the pageant were pinned. And I'm sure nobody else in this store is brave, no scratch that, foolish enough to volunteer. So I'm going to go ahead and give this crazy idea of yours my stamp of approval. Just promise me one thing, Casper Edward Fisherman.” She opened her eyes and peered directly at me, it was like I was looking into the maw of Hell.
“Yes ma'am?” I said well, confused. I felt like I was walking across thin ice. And any sudden misstep would send me crashing the thin ice and into the ice cold water below.
“Promise me this.” She paused as if chewing over the words in her head. “Promise me you'll try to have fun. And before you ask, no, I was not born yesterday. I do however feel there is something ticking or kicking that head of yours. I just want you to know that Sunflower Food Store is a family owned and operated Grocery store, there is also a chain there around fifteen or so Sunflower's scattered around this region. Maybe more since the son took over and he wants to expand as fast as possible. We're even edging into Mississippi and Texas a little. Anyway, the owners are, well they understand the law, they have a law team on their side, and they know how to skirt the law. Anyway, as long as I'm here you will have a job.” Mrs. April said, taking a deep breath.
Now, with that matter out of the way, I have some 'Business' I need to talk to you about, first, Earl Frost, the guy that is just above you. Today was his last day, he is now old enough to draw his full social check, and he's been with us long enough to get his pension. He starts his retirement today at twelve noon. So that leaves his position open. And since you've been with us for a while and since you've seemed to have a handle on produce. I'm going to promote you to his spot. Starting today at twelve noon when he clocks out, and collects his last check, your new title would be 'Lead Produce Clerk',” April paused.
“This would make you the second in command over that area of the store. Meaning you will now have to work Monday, Wednesday and Friday, the three days of the week get shipments in. As you would be expected to help stock the department during truck days. Your time on those days will be fixed as they have been at five o' clock in the morning till around three o' clock. With those other two days being five till one or two. I doubt our current head will stay on much longer so I'll have you enter 'training mode' meaning you will be learning how to order, how to send an order, how to check the invoices, how to request credit and such.” April paused.
“I understand that a lot on your shoulders. And your pay will of course reflect that. Your first duty though will be to train the guy who is taking over your spot. He does not have the education you have, he did not follow the normal chain. He's fresh from the front and green as green can be. So take your time and explain things to him the best you can. He's a good kid, he working to support his mom and kid sister. A bit of a slow learner but in time he will develop, hopefully.” April paused again.
“Second thing you'll need to learn. Is that the 'Lead Produce Clerk' does a lot of cutting. So we’re knee to teach you some knife skills. You will help the head make the fresh mixed berry bowls we sell in the cut fruit section, you will also make fresh fruit cups, you will craft fruit baskets and like I said you'll also be learning how to order and checking things off the produce invoice. Again this is a good bit of work, so again naturally I'm going to increase you. Right now I can promise you a fifty cent raise for taking the promotion. And once you've started mastering some of the skills. I'll give you another fifty cents here and there. In the end, you'll max out making around nineteen to twenty dollars an hour if you stick with it. And like I said, you're next in line to run that department. Once you get to that level you'll be just above a shift leader. You'll be making orders, writing out a schedule, booking promotions. So yes, stick with it.” April finally finished.
I nodded my head. All of this was honesty beyond me.
And with that I decided to march toward the time clock, I clocked in, took a deep breath and prayed a quick prayer. And with that I started another day in retail hell. Like the old saying goes. It was 'Another day, another dollar' five hours in, I took my break and once more brought some half priced deli food. On the menu today was fried fish, I think it was catfish, tasted like catfish but the texture remind of cod. And it tasted bitter. And for sides we had pieces of fried out okra and a dinner roll that could used as a paving stone or a handy projection if need be. It was so hard, gave up eating it after taking one bite.
After trying to eat something, I decided now would be the perfect time to call cousin Jasmine and give her the news. I took a deep breath and dialed her number. After the third ring Jasmine finally picked up and I took a deep breath to find my voice and in a very airy tone of voice I said.
“Good afternoon cousin Jasmine.” I said as soon as I heard her come on the other end.
“This better be good.” Jasmine said, taking a deep breath. “Because I just stepped out of a high stakes meeting. I shit you not, you better be in the got damn E.R or something.”
I blinked and blinked again.
“I volunteered for the pageant.” I said swallowing hard. “I just wanted to tell you.” I said sweat dropping a little. I closed my eyes and waited for Jasmine to blow right up on me. Instead she just heaved a heavy sigh and a few seconds later I heard her yell something something over her shoulders. It sounded like Japanese? When did she learn Japanese?
“Okay! Good, I just told the client that little kid sister needed to talk to me about something. Okay I have fifteen minutes before I need to get back into that office and close a high stakes deal that could millions for my company, a nice promotion from junior partner to senior for me, a nice bonus that amounts to around a hundred thousand dollars for my troubles. So, you volunteered? Good! Great! Do you have a gown picked out?” Jasmine asked.
“No. I was going to go gown shopping at the local charity shops this afternoon when I get off.” I said swallowing hard.
“First off, my little sister is not going to go into her first beauty pageant wearing a second hand prom grown or something some little slut has shagged in on her prom night. Nor is she going to wear something that smells like moth balls and swamp water. That total bullshit. Okay if I remember correctly there is this place in town that sells high end gowns. I think it's called 'Crown to Heel' their stuff is really up there. They even have a fancy salon, a photo shoot area and a waxing room. So boom full coverage.” Jasmine seemed to spitting out these words.
“Yes, I know that place, it located right across city hall.” I said. “I paused, But Jasmine I don't think I can afford a gown from that place?”
“What your Paypal?” Jasmine cut me off with a direct question.
“I don't have..” My voice failed.
“Do you any digital banking at all?” Jasmine asked again.
“No ma'am.”
“ISABELLA.” Jasmine said taking a deep breath. “Okay listen! I'm almost out of time. Does that grocery store you work at have a Western union?” Jasmine asked, I could tell by the tone of voice she was in a hurry.
“Yes, and if you use one of the stores in our chain, say another Sunflower you can wire money to an employee and by some kind of deal our store has, they will waver the fee.” I said blushing.
“Okay! I'll wire you some money as soon as this meeting is over. Text me when you get it, and Belle, not to sound bitchy or anything, cause I love you, just text me before you decided you want to call me say like on a weekday between the hours of seven and four. Please? Anyway, I love you, and hugs and kisses.” And with that she hug up.
“Hugs and kisses too you too..” I said taking a deep breath. “What have I gotten myself into.” I said as I finished nibbling on the cold piece of fried fish. “Jesus, should have gone to seminary right after high school like Father Andrew wanted me too.” I muttered as I sank deeply into my chair.
I quickly pushed those thoughts out of my head though. I knew I would have an terrible priest. And the church was already filled to the gills with terrible priest. There was no need to overburden the world with yet another one. Sighing, I wrapped the remains of my lunch in it's greased stained paper bag and tossed the bag into the nearby trashcan and stood up and marched toward the time clock. Four more hours remained.
Halfway through the second half of my shift. My phone buzzed. Now, were not allowed to check our phones on the sells floor. So I decided to use the bathroom, so I could see why my phone was buzzing. Getting caught checking your phone on the sales floor was grounds for a scolding at least. Anyway, it seemed the buzzing was caused by my cousin, who had sent me a text.
The text read as follows. 'Hey Belle, wired 1,200 dollars from the Western Union here in town to you. Check before you leave work kay? Text me if it's there. Oh! And call me too! This is not free money girl, you gotta earn this money. I gotta job for you! Call me later tonight and I'll tell you all about it.'
I peered down at the text and then it dawned on me, I had no idea what my cousin did. Last I heard she was working with some big time publishing company out of Baton Rouge. I had little time to think about this as a few seconds later my phone started to buzz again. Once more I checked it to see my dear cousin Jasmine had sent me another text.
'Oh, and the money is for Casper. I don't think you're ready to start using 'Belle' as a name. But take my advice. Use some of your next check, to buy some clothes. And a nice set of underwear. Something that looks good. Don't show up for this job looking like a street walked from New Orleans or a reject from the French Quarter. Tell you more this evening after you get off. Hugs and Kisses.'
After I read that text, I powered down my phone and took a deep breath. I think I took a leak, oddly enough I found myself sitting down to pee, it kind of felt right I guess. Then I washed my hands, and made a big show of drying them off. I forgot to flush though, well I did not want to flush, I felt like I needed to leave some proof behind that I was in the bathroom taking care of some personal business. Instead of you know, looking at my phone. I mean I'm an honest employee right?
To be continued.
Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story
-4-
I have to cosplay as a Bunnygirl ?!
I found myself twelve hundred dollars richer by the afternoon. My bank account had almost doubled when I put the money into it. But I knew I would still need to earn that money. So, taking a deep breath I pushed myself off the easy chair that I'd hawked from the side of the curb one bright Saturday morning and reached for my phone. I took a deep breath and then dialed my cousin's number. The phone rang and rang again until at last she finally picked up.
“I was expecting your call three and a half hours ago.” A flat female voice said on the other end of the line. “Do you have a gift for calling at the wrong time? I was just about to run myself a tub of bubble bath. I have a good bottle of wine chilling in the fridge and a new cheap romance novel by my bedside. And I was just about to pour myself a nice, big glass, and soak in the bubbles and let my cares and worries about today just melt away. And float away to a romantic daydream where a handsome, bare chested cowboy ties me up and has his way with me. But, I guess I can postpone my simple, humble earthly pleasures for a little while longer to help my egg cousin out.”
“Sorry.” I said blushing a little as I cradled the phone in one hand and walked over to the ice chest that sat in the corner of my flat. I bent down and opened the top of the ice chest and pulled out a gallon of store bought sweet tea. “I'll call back later when your not busy.”
“No.” Jasmine said, taking a deep breath. “We have pressing business to talk about. And you my dear girl are about to come out of the egg.” She took another breath. A deeper one. “So, first order of business, glad you volunteered for that thing. That money should buy you a nice gown, and cover a decent haircut. You're also going to need a total waxing. You should then have some left over to kick start a wardrobe. You'll need a few basic items to start with.”
“Hey Jasmine.” I said as I poured the store bought sweet tea into a red plastic cup. “I think we're putting the cart in front of the horse here.” I said blushing as I peered toward the brown liquid in the cup. I secretly wished it was something stronger than tea. I pushed that thought out my mind and shrugged my shoulders and lifted the cup to my lips and took a nice long sip.
“No, no we're not. Now be a good girl and shut up and listen to your big sister.” She said in a snappy tone of voice. “You are going to be 'Belle' this weekend if you like it or not. Like I told you, you called me at the wrong time. I was in the middle of a very important meeting with a very important client. And her sale's team. Like big money here.” Jasmine's tone of voice had switched from snappy to gentle and yet somewhat scolding.
“I said I was sorry! God, Jasmine! Can't you give a girl a break!” I blinked and sighed.
“The transformation has begun. And you should be sorry, but that's all water under the bridge right now. You see what happened is I had to step out of that high stakes meeting to take that call. And when I returned I had to bow formally, because they were from Japan and all. And express my deepest apologies for being rude and leaving in the middle of our meeting. But I need to take that call because it was from my dearest, sweetest, most loving cousin who I loved and cherished like a little sister.”
“Of course they wanted to know why they called, and I had to tell a little lie. I told them that you'd run into a parked trolley while riding your back down the French Quarter. I told them you were a bit of an airhead and did not see the parked trolley and you smashed into the front of the thing. I assured them you were fine, just a few bruises and a few lumps and that the wonderful nurses and doctors of St. Thomas The Healer and Patron Saint of Doctors and Nurses of New Word Infirmary were tending to you. But she just needed 'Big sister' because she was afraid of the big scary needles.”
“What the fuck..” I said. “What the honest to God fuck!” I yelled.
“Hey, I had to think of something. And now you owe me a steak dinner!” Jasmine said. “Anyway the lead woman has a little sister and she totally understood where I was coming. And word of your plight tugged hard on their heartstrings and for a moment the whole mood in the room shifted from talk about business to your welfare. Hell they were ready to conclude the meeting right there and then so I could drive down and see you. You can thank me later.” Jasmine seemed very proud of that little lie. I could tell by the smugness in her voice.
“Right.” I said blinking. “You do know that there is no.. St. Thomas The Healer and Patron Saints of Doctors and Nurse of the New World Infirmary down here right? I said as I eased down into the overstuffed chair and peered at the slowly turning wooden blades of the ceiling fan that was just starting to move the dust bunnies around and trying its best to move the hot, stuffy air of my flat around.
“I mean your local hospital is called St. Thomas, being y'all all Catholic and stuff. Anyway, they were all very concerned about your health and totally understood if I needed to cut the meeting short to drive down there to visit you and like hold your hand or something? I told them it was just a few bruised ribs, a mild headache, and that you were just shook up, though your bike needed repaired and you were dirt poor too, working a five to nine at a local supermarket. Anyway one of the girls asked for a picture of you. It was more like an order than a request. So I showed that picture you sent and okay this went weird.” Jasmine seemed to be smiling a little.
“Okay?” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Well they were quite taken by your photo. All agreed that you are 'Kawai' and told them that you were trying to leave your 'tomboy' phase behind. Anyway returning the the story, since you seemed so 'Kawai' whatever that means.. one of the women of the group hatched an idea, she quite forcefully I might add suggested that maybe my little sister would wish to cosplay a bunny suit and pass out a hundred or so copies of their newest light novel at the local Barnes and Noble. Since the title of the book is this 'Bunny Girls Are Not Supposed to Live in Bookstores!' and since she is the lead woman in all of this, all of the other women kind of just agreed. So there's cause you called me at the wrong time, you now gotta cosplay as a bunny girl for a book promotion. That twelve hundred dollars was an 'get well' gift from the group that wanted to model. I'm told another two thousand dollars will be put into your bank account once you've finished this little stunt. Also you will be allowed four hundred something dollars to cover the cost of traveling and lodging. Since I told them you would most likely be taking the Amtrak from New Orleans to here, Baton Rouge. And you would require some kind of lodging. I strongly suggested that you book a hotel room. But they were quick to dismiss that idea. So instead I gotta find you a nice bed and breakfast.”
“Jasmine are you okay?” I said blinking.
“I guess why?” She asked.
“Because that was a bit long winded?” I added as I sighed.
I paused and then eased my phone down to collect my thoughts. Once I was sure my thoughts were collected I raised the phone and then said.
“Jasmine.” I said, taking a deep breath, preparing myself for the little outburst I was about to make. “A Bunny Girl! Like a Freaking Playboy Bunny!” I'd watched more than enough anime and read more than enough manga to know that there was one sure way to gain some brownie points with the fans and that was always to get the cute, shy girl in a revealing bunny suit. If she acts embarrassed and shy and heck even if fails at having to wear the thing, well that was just the cherry on top of the fanboy sundae.
“Yes, listen. You gotta do this. I know you need the money and while I'm sure you hoped the debut of Isabella Mari fisherman would be that 'Womanless Beauty Pageant' fundraiser thing. It seems that either God or the Devil had other plans for you. Listen, my hands are tied. But here is what I would do, there is a place in Blue Bayou called 'Tammy Hair Salon' according to my sources she is very friendly and supportive to people within the LGBTQ+ community. And right across the road from her salon there is a resale shop called 'Repeat Street' they have a good selection of gently worn clothes. So here is what I would advise if I was you, first go to 'Tammy Hair Salon' and get a good basic cut. A trim, get rid of those dead ends and shape your hair up. Then get totally waxed. And brace yourself for this girl. In order to pull this off you'll need to get a Brazilian wax job.”
I shuttered and nearly dropped on the ground the plastic red cup I was holding.
“Jasmine!” I shouted at the top of my lungs and jumped to my feet. “This is more than I signed up for!” I said, feeling my face starting to turn red from embarrassment.
“Oh my God, Belle, you don't have to act like such a whiny little bitch about it. Listen, I love you, so I'm going to spoil you and the whole waxing job charged to my bank account. But if I have to pay for it, I'll be sure to pay to have you go through a whole Hollywood Wax Job.” Jasmine said. And I just pictured her smirking on the other end of the line. I then heard the splashing of water on the other end. And I started to wonder if she had indeed just slipped into her bubble bath.
“Okay, what is an 'Hollywood Wax Job'? Because that does not sound as nearly as painful as the first one.” I said blushing as I eased back down into my chair.
“It's where they remove every single trace of hair from your nether region, and under your arms, and under your legs, and your but too, they also do your arms too for good measure. Leaving you as smooth as an egg. It's painful don't get me wrong and takes a whole afternoon if done properly and it's going to cost me a pretty penny, well a handful of pretty pennies. But it's worth it in the end. I had one when I first got into this business and the girl I looked amazing. I might just do that, consider it an early birthday present.”
“Thanks.. and okay if you're footing the bill, I'll do it.” I said, shivering a little.
“Okay, now once your waxing is done, go to the dollar store or Walmart and buy yourself a few matching pairs of bras and panties. And while you're there buy a natural looking pair of chicken filets.” Jasmine said. I could tell by the uncorking sound she must have been pouring herself her first glass of wine for the evening.
“Chicken filets? What? I'm not going to cook them am I? Why would I need them? Plus I can't afford fresh chicken! I mean I can.. but that kind of pulls on my budget.” I asked as my mind started to once more entertain ideas that maybe it was not too late to consider going into the priesthood. Or maybe I could consider entering into the monastery, I heard the Jesuits were always looking for new recruits.
“Honey child, that is what we call breast enhancers. You will need something to fill out the cups of the bra and the bunny suit and that gown you will be wearing. Well until you can grow your own. But I promise you, we'll cover that at a later date. Anyway, once you get that stuff together. Buy a simple, starter wardrobe, I would personally suggest one tea dress with flats, one little black dress, pack both! The dress for travel and the little black dress because they might invite us out for dinner to celebrate the photo shoot, a skirt, a blouse, a pair of boots. A simple Make-up kit, you can buy those at Walmart too. A hairbrush, with a good collection of headbands, headbands and hair clips. Some body spray, try to avoid the cotton candy scented stuff. You're not a tween anymore! And of course finger nail clippers and toenail clippers. And one good pair of shoes. Like modest, church going shoes, not clubbing shoes.” Jasmine paused.
“Jasmine, the last time I attended Mass was Easter!”
“Oh? And you used to be such a good little girl? What happened, did Sister Haggis catch you sneaking kisses in kisses behind the confessional booth?” Jasmine said, teasing a little. But that statement did throw me for a loop. Maybe the wine had gone straight to her head.
“Whatever..” I said
“Okay listen. I'm going to get in my bath now, have a few glasses of wine, and try to chill. I think I'm spoiling you a little, but I'll handle your train ticket and such. I'll meet you at the station. Also, when I meet you at the station I expect to see my cousin Isabella Mari Fisherman, not my cousin Casper Edward Fisherman.” She added.
“Sure..” I said, taking a deep breath.
And with that we discounted the call.
I peered at my phone for a few minutes and then rolled over on my side and faced the wall of my flat. Part of me was overjoyed, I mean I'd always wanted to do something like that. I used to joke around when I was in school about crossplaying and stuff. Well, that is until my dad found out about me joking. And though my dad was dumb as a sack of hammers, he knew how to google something and damn when he googled the word “Crossplay '' and found out it was dressing up as a character of the different gender. He flipped his shit. He nearly broke my arm after that, I say nearly.
It was only the intervention of Fr. Andrew who had arrived to bless the house that had kept him from shattering my arm into a thousand tiny fragments. My dad was a brute of a man, a man's man. The kind that worked from dawn to dust.. The kind that smoked, drank, hunted, fished, and cheated on his wife with the loose women who hung around the smoke filled bars and taverns that dotted the countryside. Places with such poetic names as “The Hideaway” or “Shake of the Lake” or “Fisherman's Paradise” or “The Green Door” and last by not least “The Grape's Camp”.
These were not your well established, friendly neighborhood bars or taverns. These were not the warm, welcoming pups of England, Ireland, or Scotland. No, these were often converted old homesteads, one were the beer was often warm, the lighting was dim, the air smelled of smoke, from burning fires, as most of these places had old, brick fireplaces that often had a fire burning seven days a week, three hundred and fifty four days a year, no matter the season or the weather. Oftentimes the fire was the only source of light.
The window panes were often caked with dirt and had massive cobwebs in the corner. The whole area would smell of unwashed bodies. And the bathrooms would reek of raw piss or shit. My dad had often dragged me to these places when I was younger. I think it was his attempt to make a man out of me. But as I sat there, looking at the unpainted walls of my flat. All these memories started to come back to me, I wondered what had triggered them? Part of me wanted to know, but part of me did not want to know.
And so, that is how this episode ends. With me in deep thought. Very deep thought. I guess if you have followed my adventures this far. I have no choice but to press on. After all, as stormy as this day had turned out to be, I knew that the darkest hours were always the ones that came before the first faint rays of morning. Or as the old saying goes, it was often the darkest before dawn.
Little did I know how my world was about to turn!
Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story
-5-
Bunny Girls Do not live in Bookstores!
Amazon is the premier bazaar of the internet. Like Paypal is the premier bank of the internet. I learned you could buy anything you wanted on Amazon, including a used copy of 'Bunny Girls do not live in Bookstores' which was in Japanese. I did not read, nor did I understand Japanese. And so it's safe to say I did not buy it. The cost would have been around two thousand yen.. and shipping and handling would have been another two thousand yen. I do not know the value of the yen or the exchange rates from yen to dollars nor do I care to know. Though a quick google search showed me that it would be around forty dollars.
But what I could gather from a quick online search was that 'Bunny Girls do not live in Bookstores' was the first volume in an eighteen volume series of light novels that center on the misadventures of a would be cosplay model who happens to begin her cosplaying career by cosplaying as a bunny girl and prancing around her neighborhood bookstore.
What does that have to do with me? Well, on a whim, I started to look up fanart that many of the loyal fans of 'Bunny Girls Do not live in Bookstores' have done of the main character, Sakura Oda. From what I could gather, Sakura Oda is a petite Japanese girl with long, straight black hair and deep, blue eyes, eyes that are so blue they look like the sea. At first I was enchanted with her looks, until I looked in the mirror and then a feeling of, well I have to use a British word here, gobsmacked came over me. When I looked into the mirror that hangs above the sink in my bathroom basin I noticed that I was the splitting image of Sakura Oda. The only difference was my hair needed to be trimmed and shaped up a little, and she had breasts and I did not. But other than that, we looked like two peas in a pod.
“So that's why they wanted me to model her.” I muttered as I applied a thick layer of shaving foam to my chin that morning and once more dragged a razor across my face. I made a mental note to buy razor blades to the ever growing shopping list. Today was Saturday, and less than twelve hours ago I was given the news that had turned my world upside down. It seemed because I had called my cousin during a very important meeting that I would be required to cosplay as a bunny girl for a promotional stunt her manga publishing company was putting on. Second, I was now officially entered into my town's first Womanless Beauty Pageant under the name Isabella “Belle” Maria Fisherman.
All of this had taken place in a short twelve hour span.
“I need a holiday.” I muttered as I splashed some hot water on my face to wash away some of the shaving foam. “A long holiday on some tropical island, with a tropical drink in my hand.” As soon as I said that I froze. Instead of being a guy, wearing say swimming trunks, I pictured myself a girl, one that was laid out on a white beach chair, lounging under the cooling shade of a sunbrella. On one hand a trashy romance novel, and on the other an ice cold margarita.
In my daydream I was wearing the skimpiest bikini I could find and surrounded by dozens of well developed, muscular guys, all wearing black swim trunks that fitted them well. I could feel myself starting to blush as my hand started to tremble. Because I knew that as soon as the sun set, I would change into the shortest dress I owned and wear the tallest pair of heels I owned and dance the night away with the guys, and one by one all of them would ride me like bucking bronco.
“Oh GOD!” I yelled loud enough to cause the cat that was digging around in the trash can just under the bathroom window to meow loudly before knocking the can over and running away. “I'm still a virgin!” I muttered as I shuttered.
At that moment I questioned if it was normal for a nineteen year old male, transgender or not to still be a virgin. Now before you ask, I had never really had a girlfriend in my nineteen years of walking the huge piece of rock that was spinning through space. I knew, most of the boy's I'd grown up with had bragged about having sex as soon as they hit puberty. And as cringe worthy as this is, I knew my cousin Jared and Jay, the macho men of the Addams family line, my mother had been an Adam's before she had married my father who was a Fisherman, had bragged at one family reunion of getting their first taste of pussy at age twelve and thirteen respectfully.
And yet here I was, age nineteen, and still a virgin, dreaming of getting my world rocked, by sun drenched, blond haired, blue eyed guys who had more muscles than brains but were well endowed and knew how to use it. And had the experience, the drive and the motivation to do all the work, while I just sat back and enjoyed the ride on the meat rocket to mars. And that all that mattered.
I blushed and sighed and then I stepped into the shower. It was Saturday and I had a rare Saturday and Sunday off. It was also one week till I needed to be in Baton Rouge for that cosplay photo shoot and two weeks till that weird pageant thing. Yesterday being Friday, and Friday being the traditional day wages were given out, I found myself flushed with cash money. So it seemed some shopping was in order for the day.
As the shower head sprayed me with warm water, lifting sleep from my eyes and awaking my body. I started to mentally plot the day. I figured the first order of business would be to get some breakfast for me, thankfully there was a little cafe just down the street from where I lived. I'd never eaten there, but according to all the locals the food was second to none. Then again sit down in places where they offered breakfast were rarer than Hen's teeth.
Once breakfast was done, I would go get a haircut, then go shopping for basic items that I would need both for my forthcoming adventure into the world of crossplay and for the pageant. Then a weird idea popped into my head. I would like some sleeping clothes too, and a bathrobe. I mean I normally slept in just a lost, formless shirt and a pair of white boxers. But that seemed so.. so not me.. I would need a nightdress or something. Something that would make me feel feminine. And then the truth came out of hiding and smashed me upside the head and took my breath away.
I wanted to feel feminine because I knew that deep inside I was feminine. Something I had wrestled with for years was starting to break the surface. And then it became clear to me, too clear in fact. It seemed at that moment, either God or the Devil himself had seen it fit to impart some divine or demonic nugget of wisdom that had been withheld from me for most of my life.
I was a girl inside.. a girl was struggling to get out.
That thought had just popped into my head. And again I felt my breath being taken away. It all made sense to me now. Puberty had been hell on me, because I had felt my body becoming something that did not line up with what my brain wanted, no scratch that shit, my body was not lining up with what my soul knew it should have been. And only the dogma of the Roman Catholic Church, which my mom had belonged to, which my dad had converted too to marry my mom, of whom I had taken in since birth along with the milk from my mothers tits. Had kept me from tying a looped piece of rope around my neck and jumping from a bar room stool. Or running a butcher's knife through my chest, or cutting my own throat open with a letter opener. Or swallowing a handful of sleeping pills, or just putting my dad's .357 Magnum to my head and squeezing the trigger. I'm sure the 158 grains of half-jacketed alloy traveling the speed of light and sound would have scattered my few remaining brain cells to hell and back.
“FUCK!” I yelled as loud as I could.
It all made sense now, I was still a virgin because I'd never had the desire to enter into a woman. I never craved sex, my sex drive was none, zero, zilch! And while I had played football one year, my freshman year, that had only been because my dad and pressure me into it. My heart was never in it, I hated it and had only gained a broken knee from the venture.
“FUCK IT!” I yelled again as I turned my head toward the heavens. “God! You better have a reason for putting me through this bullshit!” I yelled loud enough to cause the neighbor across the street to pause and shout at the top of his lungs.
“I'm going to call the law on you!” Whatever Mr. Tom Anderson senior. Call the law, see if I care.
And with that finally out of my system I settled down to my computer. I had some online shopping to do. And I did not feel like getting out. The weather forecast for today was supposed to be around a hundred and fifteen degrees in the shade. That forty six point eleven degrees Celsius in case any of my readers are from across the pond. In short it was too hot for anything besides trying to stay cool. Thank God for the internet and Netflix and Amazon! And with my debit card in hand and a new Prime feature to test out I dove into the bazaar of the internet.
Going on Amazon was the first mistake of the morning. Because it was a good way to kill three and a half hours. Once I was done with online shopping. I'd racked up around three or four hundred dollars in stuff. Stuff that I guessed I needed. Like a suitcase, because I did not own a suitcase, a hairbrush, a collection of hairbands, hair clips, and even some nail polish. Also I picked up some stuff for the flat, like a new pillow, a new blanket, and some new sheets, my current sheets had turned yellow.
Beside that I also ordered some bleach cause you know the trash cans under the window needed to bleach them out. The city had fallen behind on its trash collection, so the mountains of discharged garbage. Empty beer bottles, old pizza boxes, empty drink bottles, old boots, old shoes, used diapers, and the list goes on and on were just piled up around the old, weather beaten cans. And the only way to kill that smell was to pour a gallon or two of bleach on it.
All that came to around a hundred dollars. The other three hundred dollars was spent on other odds and ends. I even treated myself and went and bought myself a mine fridge with a freezer on top. I would really moving on up in the world if I could have a mini fridge with a freezer on top! I could finally keep ice cream around! Up till now, I'd been keeping most of my perishables in an old ice chest that I hawked from the side of the road.
After my little shopping spree I decided to settle down and spend the rest of my day catching up on the stories I was following on Big Closet. I saw that one of my favorite authors, Emma Anne Tate, had uploaded a story. It was always a joy to see another piece of fiction by Emma Anne Tate! Another one of my favorite authors Rasefelle had uploaded something so that was a double yay!
But I was a bit crestfallen that Shiraz and Snowfall had not added another installment of the wonderful Tammy Crossover Saga. Shiraz was one of the writers that I most wanted to be like. She had a wonderful sense of humor. And Emma Anne Tate was charming and witty! And Rasefelle was a treasure.
As I read through those stories, I started to think about my own story I wanted to write about, I'd written stories before. But they had been trash, pure and simple trash. Most of my stories were Deviantart Trash. Then again since its change over, most of the stories on Deviantart were indeed trash! And that's how I finished my Saturday off. Reading TG fiction and wondering what my future held.
I had a lot to think about. About maybe being Transgender, about still being a virgin, about my possible retail career? About maybe getting into some kind of college or even attending a trade school? And well, the characters in these stories gave me inspiration. I had Jasmine to guide me, yes, but in a roundabout way, Snowfall, Shiraz, Rasefelle, and Emma Anne Tate were voices of reason and hope. Their creations were blueprints for me to pattern my life after. Something to hope and aspire too.
And that is where I leave this chapter off.
Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story
-6-
An Earnest Conversation
I slept like shit Saturday night. Mr. Tom Anderson's pure breed Persian Blue and Ms. Susan Smith's pure breed Siamese spent the whole night making kitten's under my window. It's safe to say in about seven weeks there will be some strange looking kitten's running around the neighborhood. Oh well, that was not my problem. I just had to listen to it all night.
And when my alarm clock sounded, I was just about to reach over and turn it off and roll over and try to get a few extra hours of sleep when my boss sent me a text asking me to come in. So instead of going back to sleep I hauled my sleepy ass out of bed and rushed toward the shower. An hour later, I was dressed and on my fourth cup of coffee as I started to rush down the wooden flight of the stairs that connected my flat to the carport. Fifteen minutes later I was pulling into the parking lot of Sunflower.
And boy, I could see why my boss called me in, the guy who was supposed to cover for me yesterday did nothing. I mean the whole damn department was blown out. I mean that, there was not one single head of cabbage in the case and from just glancing at it, I could tell nobody had culled the damn thing in at least twenty four hours.
Putting the mother fucker back together was a pain the neck. First I had to cull the damn thing, which took almost two damn hours, then I had to walk to the cooler and back room to see what I had to work with and then the real work began. By the time the church crowd hit, I was just starting to make progress. And as soon as the church crowd hit all that progress had been tossed out the mother fucking window.
And so for twelve hours I battled that beast. Till at last I was forced to wave the white flag and walk away from it. The cooler was empty, the backroom save for one case of tomatoes was empty and the section still looked like shit. It had more holes in it than Swiss cheese and there was nothing I could do but wait till tomorrow shipment.
Oh the plus side, I'd racked up a hell of a lot over time. Anyway before I left work I asked my boss to approve some PTO. That stands for Paid Time Off. I wanted this coming Friday and Saturday Off. And the next Sunday and Monday off. Of course she raised, bitched and threatened to have my job. But in the end I got it approved. I was also told to take tomorrow off since I came in today.
After work, I was dead on my feet, yet somehow I still managed to get my ass to Wal-Mart and buy a few pairs of panties and bras and a pink nightgown. I figured tonight I might as well try to dress like a woman. After all, I was so tired I doubted the sound of two horny cats making love would wake me. And I also decided I would order pizza from Pizza Hut. Because I did not feel like cooking.
Instead I ordered an extra large pepperoni pizza from Pizza hut with an order of cheese sticks. I'd just placed my order and changed into a pink nightgown when my phone rang. I knew the number, it was cousin Jasmine calling to check in one I guess. I picked up after the second ring.
“Hey! Just wanted to tell you I booked your train and booked you a bed and breakfast. I take it you got some work over the weekend?” Jasmine said without giving me a chance to even say 'Hello'.
“I'm afraid not..” I said blushing.
“WHY NOT!” She yelled. “You have the whole damn weekend off girlfriend! Two perfect days of shopping! And I booked you an early train! Listen! I mean it, I swear to God you better not be getting cold feet on me! Really Isabella! You're my cousin and I love you like a sister! But do you have any idea how much trouble I've gone through this weekend to line all this up for you!”
“Sorry..” I said meekly. “I spent yesterday reading and shopping on Amazon and I got called in today because the new guy called in sick. But I get this coming Friday and Saturday off! Plus Sunday and Monday so.. I'll be there..I promise..” I said, sighing. I felt like a little girl who just got caught with her hand down in the cookie jar. And now her mother was tearing her a new one fir sneaking a cookie or two.
“Good, I got the bunny suit lined up too. Since you were not around for it to be tailored to fit you . I kind of guessed. I have a seamstress on hand just in case we need to tighten it up a bit.” Isabella paused. “When you wear an outfit like this girl, you always get a size down from what you normally wear.”
“Hey.. what if I'm not transgender?” I said. I don't know where the question came from, but it just popped into my head. It was quite a silly question. Because right now as we talked, I was wearing a frilly pink nightgown and my shoulder length raven black hair had been pulled back in a high ponytail and braided and at the end a cord of blue ribbon had been tied around it.
“Okay that question came from left field..”
“I'm sorry it's just something I need to ask. Because things seem to moving a bit too quickly or not quick enough!” I said as I cradled the phone in my hand. “Plus you went through all this trouble and I'm..” I hung my head down in shame. “I feel like an outsider! Like nobody understands me! Like.. I don't know..” I found myself choking on my own words. And I found myself fighting to hold back the tears that threaten to spill down my cheeks.
“Okay.. Girl if you're this emotional now.. I would hate to see what happens when you start on hormones.. shit going to get crazy as fuck.” Jasmine said as she took a deep breath.
“Jasmine..” I said, choking back some tears.
“Okay! First, thing first. I've been calling you 'Belle' since we last talked. If that bothers you, tell me now, and I'll stop.” Jasmine said. I noticed a sudden shift in her tone of voice. It was like she was taking charge of the conversation and I was perfectly fine with that. But then she added. “Also, do yourself and me a huge favor and answer these questions as truthfully as possible.”
“Yes ma'am.” I squeaked a little.
“Good. Now, should I keep calling you 'Belle'? Or do you want me to go back to calling you Casper?” Jasmine had to start with the most direct question possible. But I guess this was the best question to start with so taking a deep breath I closed my eyes and said.
“I like it when you call me 'Belle' but for now I want to 'Belle' only when I'm dressed like her. Like this coming weekend at the photo shoot and at the pageant And when we talk on the phone too. Does that make sense?” I said as I started to get a grip on my emotions.
“Okay! Good, I'll call you 'Belle' when you're dressed as a girl, and when you're doing the pageant and stuff. But when you're at work and stuff I'll just call you Casper. Sounds good?” Jasmine asked.
“Perfect.” I said looking down at the floorboards of my flat.
“Okay, next question. Do you still want to do the photo shoot? Are you okay with that? If not I can always pull a few strings and tell the people from YenExpress that you caught Covid or something. And are you still going to do the pageant thing?” Another direct question from Cousin Jasmine.
“Yes, to both.” I said swallowing hard.
“Okay! Now for you being transgender or not. I can not answer that question for you, that a question only you can answer. I can put you in touch with people who can help you decide. But in the end only you can truly decide if you are or if you're not.” Jasmine paused. “Also how big is your flat? Can two people share it without any problem?”
“I think so... I'm sleeping on an old army cot right now, but the sofa has a fold out bed in it. I sometimes sleep on it, two people can sleep on the fold out bed I guess..” My voice started to trail a little. “Why?”
“Because I might need to follow you home and stay with you a while. Cause your emotions are all over the place. And I've seen people do dumb things when they're just starting out. I've seen people purge, I've seen them cut off all their hair, I've seen them slice their wrist open.. not saying you will or anything. I just want to be close to you if you need me. Instead of you know eighty miles north.” Jasmine paused. “We can't afford to lose another sister, and I'll be damned if I let the darkness claim another one of my sisters!”
I blinked was Jasmine crying? Was the tough as nails, quick witted, peppery girl that I knew and love crying. A few tense moments of silence passed as I just cradled the phone close to my ears. The wait was killing me, the only thing I could hear on the other end was Jasmine crying.
“Jasmine?” I said in a hushed tone of voice.
“We lose so many each year! I lost my best friend! I'm not going to lose my baby sister! I refuse to lose my baby sister! I can't go through that again! I can't! I won't! I won't be called down to the city morgue to identify another sister who lost the fight to depression and killed herself! I won't sign another release form because the family disowned her and I was the only family she had! I won't! I don't care if you're transgender or not, you're the only blood family I have besides mom and dad!” Jasmine seemed to be choking on her own tears now and the words just spewed out of her mouth.
“Jasmine.. promise me you won't leave me?” I said sniffing a little, a fresh batch of tears were starting to fall again. “Promise me you won't leave me again? I can't lose you again!” I shouted as the tears broke and started to fall down my cheeks.
“I promise... and promise me you'll never leave me either? Promise me if you ever think about killing yourself you would call me and allow me to get you some help! Promise me, Promise me Isabella Mari Fisherman!” Was Jasmine shouting at the other end of the line. She was? Oh God this conversation had turned on a dime and all because I asked a simple question?
“I promise..” I think that was the only thing I could say. But how to get this conversation back on track? Was this a normal conversation? Did girls have these conversations often? Was it normal for girls to break down on the phone and pour out their heart and soul to each other? Jesus what was I getting into? And maybe Jasmine was right, if just thinking about being a girl made me think and act like this, what would happen when they started pumping me full of estrogen each week?
“Good..” Jasmine said as she heaved a sigh. “I gotta go wash my face now! I ruined my make-up and I'm supposed to meet a guy for cocktails in a half an hour. Lord, my face is a mess.” Jasmine seemed to be laughing a little. Maybe that was a good thing.
“Wow! A date! Is he cute?” I said blushing a little. “I bet he is a big time businessman, who wears only tailored suits and wears really fancy gold watches!” I tried to tease her a little, to make her laugh and it worked. Jasmine laughed a little. I could tell by the tone of her voice she was smiling a little too.
“Oh pretty good. He has the most adorable little penis! But girl he can use it! I mean he can go in deep and hit all the right places with it and when he bursts. It's like, it's like this, you're the cupcake and he's the creamy filling and he fills you up good!” Jasmine seemed to be flushing a little and her laugh told me the information she was telling me came from first hand experience.
“Wow..” I said blushing a little. “Does he have a younger brother by chance?” I asked, It was the only teasing line I could think of. Or the only line a girl my age would say. I was still new to the whole trying to think like a girl thing.
“He does, he's around your age and he's a signal too! I can mention you to him.” Jasmine said in a coy tone of voice. “You could be his first and take his cherry!” She added before laughing a little.
I felt my cheeks flush with color as Jasmine turned the tables on me. I looked down at the ground and then in a soft tone of voice I whispered. “Hey, Jasmine.. I'm still a virgin too!”
Again silence.
“For real?” Jasmine said in a stunned tone of voice. “Like a virgin, like never been with a guy and never been with a girl? Like no sex at all? Not even a hand-job or a blow job?”
“Yes, never been with a guy, never been with a girl, ever had a hand-job, never given a hand-job, never given a blow-job, never had a blow-job.. Never even kissed a girl..” I added.
“Shit.. where you going to a nun or something?” Jasmine asked as shook her head.
“I was considering the priesthood at one point.” I admitted.
“Okay I think this is a good place to call it quits for the night. I have to repair my face, you gotta eat. And we just need to unwind. It's been a good call, I think we cleared the air. Get some rest and I'll call you tomorrow to just check in on you. Sounds good?” Jasmine said.
“Sounds good! Love you.” I said
“Love you too.” Jasmine said. “Little sister.” And with that she discounted the call and hung up and there another chapter came to an end.
Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story
-7-
The Road to Baton Rouge
I took a deep breath as I stepped onto the concrete platform of the train station. It was a little past seven o' clock in the morning. But the temperature that morning had already reached one hundred four degrees, with a heat index of one hundred and fifteen. The weatherman on News Channel 13 had even hinted at a possible high of one hundred twenty for the midday and that was to hover till the sun set around eight fifteen this evening. The air was hot and muggy and tainted with the smell of spoiling, greasy fried chicken and a backed up sewer line somewhere. Taking a deep breath I looked around me and noticed the station's platform was damn near deserted save for one long railroad clerk who was pushing an old wooden brush broom up and down the gray concrete platform. Said platform was stained with spit, chewed up wads of gum, pee, and poop.
The broom had collected around fifteen different shades of broken glass. Some of the shards were dark brown, some were light green, other pieces reminded me of fragmented pieces of jade, and yet others reminded me of broken pieces of sapphire. I tried not to look directly into the guys eyes. He was a old man, who had a hunched over back and a unshaven face, his hair was cropped as close as possible to his scalp and his eyes seemed glazed over and he was clothed in a dirty, gray, boilersuit that was stained with look like fifteen or twenty different meals and he reeked of pissed.
I forced myself to release my breath, forcing the foul air into my mouth. I decided now would be a good time to check the time on my phone. Trains in this part of Louisiana that to say Southern Louisiana were not known to run on time. Delays were common and were almost to be expected. The distance from Blue Bayou to Baton Rouge was roughly a hundred twenty five miles by rail, it was seventy five by car. But the railroad was cheaper than gas, the only drawback was the railroad looped around and round several other smaller settlements. Total travel time, around two and a half hours if all went according to plan. Shaking a little, I pressed a button on my phone and the time appeared.
The time was seven thirty five, the train was already fifteen minutes late. That meant I'd spent fifteen more minutes than I should have standing on this God forsaken platform in the middle of the worst part of town, wearing nothing more but a light floral sundress, and black flats. Both I'd brought this morning from Walmart this morning in a fight of madness brought on by panic.
“Bloody Hell.” I said, taking a deep breath as I peered down at the iron railroad tracks. This was my first time going out and presenting myself as female. Now, I'd not as my lovely cousin Jasmine had suggested gone and gotten my full body waxed. Instead I'd decided to go Walmart and buy three full cans of shaving foam and a packet of pink razor blades and had spent three hours chopping through the dense jungle of body hair that had covered me, I'd somehow managed to chop through the hair under my arms first, then I mowed under the hair under my right leg, wrestled into submission the hair on right leg and finally trimmed to smooth perfection the hair around my nether region. I'd then spent four hours watching fifteen different videos on YouTube about how to tuck in your junk and how to tape them up to tape them up and make them seem smaller and give a nice, flushed, flat appearance down there.
The prize of beauty was not cheap and a large chunk of my sanity had been flushed down the toilet. As the seconds slowly turned into minutes I felt myself starting to doubt myself. My courage started to slip through my fingertips. While some parts of the great state of Louisiana were open and accepting of people like me and others who fell under the LGBTQ+ umbrella. For example the greater New Orleans Metro and the greater Baton Rouge Metro and even the areas around Lafayette those were if I'm honest with you nothing more but small islands of hope and acceptance in a massive storm tossed sea of good, old fashion republican conservatism.
What did I mean by that? Well allow me to enlighten you for just a moment. While the more enlightened, Democrat Party controlled the massive urban centers of Louisiana the more conservative Republican party held a firm controlling grip on the more rustic, rural townships. North Louisiana, Southern Baptist and populated by sharecroppers and hill farmers was their stronghold.
That was the hill country to the far north of us, but they also had strong roots in the rural hamlets and settlements that lay south of New Orleans and even here in Blue Bayou a town that had grown up in shadow of of New Orleans, a town that many considered just a bedroom community of New Orleans there were still burning embers of the radical elements of the Republican Party. Those MAGA ( Make America Great Again) followers of former commander and chief Donald Trump. They believed without a doubt the 2020 Election had been stolen from Mr. Trump, and they also believed in 2024 he would return to the White House to finish 'Draining The Swamp'. Those kind of people would want people like me to be lynched from the sour apple tree. Hell they might go as far as to chop me up and use me as gator bait once they are done.
“Where's that damn train.” I said pressing down upon another button of my phone. Another long fifteen minutes had passed and there was still neither hide nor hair of the train not even a whistle. I closed my eyes and tried to get some measured control over my breathing, I was going to give myself a bloody, fucking asthma attack if I kept freaking myself out.
Then I heard it, a long drawn out echo of a steam whistle filled the hot, muggy hair and from around the curve in the track I could see a huge cloud of smoke starting to rise into the air. I blinked, of course it was too much hope that my cousin had booked me a ticket on the newer, faster 'New Orleans and Baton Rouge Express' but instead she had to book my ticket on the slower, outdated 'New Orleans and Baton Rouge Limited Railroad' a fossil from the age of steam.
I took a deep breath as I took a few steps back, the sound of the brass whistle filled the air and before long a massive, black, steamed powered locomotive was pulling up to the platform. Clouds of white steam escaped from under it as it rolled to a gentle stop. The old coal powered locomotive was pulling three railroad carriage cars that looked shaggy. And I bet they reeked of coal dust, and were infested with mold and covered with mildew.
“Bloody Hell.” I said, taking a deep breath as I stepped aboard the first railroad carriage. I was greeted with a sight that made me question everything and well I almost turned around and got off the train. Just a stone's throw from the doorway, sitting on a wooden three legged stool inside the first door was an old man with the face of a hound dog, that to say a drooping face and a few remaining strains of cotton white hair. His dark, blue eyes were glazed over and almost void of life and his round oval face was covered with small, pointed white hairs and the sour smell of Gentleman Southern hung around him like a blinding fog. His uniform was a pair of blue dress pants that were covered in dust, and a blue button up jacket that looked like it had seen better days, it was covered in spit, coffee stains and reeked of piss and shit.
All in all he looked rough and the blue broad bill hat on his head just completed the image.
“Ticket please.” He commanded. His voice had a thick New Orleans accent. And as soon as opened his mouth I noticed that he was missing several teeth and what little remained had been stained beyond repair in either a dark shade of yellow from nicotine or dark, chocolate brown from coffee. His breath also smelled to high heavens of cigarette smoke and corn whiskey.
I handed him my ticket.
“You are sitting in section A, which is on the left hand side of the car. Please Keep seated when the train is in motion. If you gotta take a piss or shit there is a bucket under the seat. If you use it, be sure to empty it or toss it out the window. If we leave the rails, we're all dead. This is a box of matches on iron wheels. So if you're the type that prays a lot, start praying now. I myself will be in this corner here, nursing my bottom. Don't ask me any questions, just sit back and enjoy the ride.” He muttered as he stood up, he then leaned over the iron railing of the car and in a very rough tone of voice he shouted out.
“Okay Mr. Jim Danny! We're clear. Let this this bitch a rolling!” He hollered out as he wrapped his old, bony fingers around the iron railing. “NEXT STOP, NINTH SOUTH STREET STATION, NEW ORLEANS. Followed by FISHERMAN'S HAVEN, then onto FISHERMAN'S LANDING, and then for the mercy of God almighty, Blessed Ever Virgin Mary! And Jesus Christ we are going to steam through PORT SPANISH and then we're going to drink a toast to the whores of OLD FRENCH SETTLEMENT! And then onto the bastard town of BATON ROUGE. ALRIGHT MR. JIM DANNY, LET GET THIS SON OF A BITCH MOVING RIGHT ON DOWN THE RAILS BEFORE THOSE BASTARDS ON THE SOUTHERN EXPRESS CULL US OFF THE GODDAMN RAILS.”
I did the only thing I could think of. I made the sign of the cross over myself and whispered under my breath. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” I muttered. A few seconds later the old railroad car lurched into motion and soon we were flying down the tracks. I clung to my suitcase and my clutch like my very life depended on it.
“This here is one of the last remaining steam trains still making the grounds.” The Conductor said. “I used to work on the Yazoo-Delta Railroad. That one runs between Yazoo City and Jackson. Makes stops in Benton and Goodman. And from Yazoo City, it goes all into the Yazoo Delta. She passes through and stops at places that are pleasant to remember. Places with such names as Rolling Fork, Vicksburg, Delta City, Cotton Point Landing, Midnight, Silver City, Holy, Deer Creek Landing, Greenville, and Sharbrough's Landing. Ever been to Sharbrough's landing?” The conductor said as he peered toward me.
“No!” I said as I felt the car jolt around. One side seemed to lean far to the left and for a few seconds it seemed to lean a little far to the right. “Is this thing safe?” I asked as I peered toward the old man, who at this very moment was putting the lip of a brown bottle to his lips. He took a nice long swallow before he dropped the bottle and leered at me with hollowed eyes that seemed glazed over.
“No no, but hell no.” He said, smirking a little. “If you wanted to ride on something safe you should have booked your bloody ticket on the 'Express' train. Would have cost a bit more.” He said lifting the bottle once more to his lips. “But at least it would have been safe. We run a private railroad! Some rich boy from down New Orleans started this railroad about fifteen years ago. Because he got tired of playing with his toy train sets and wanted something a whole lot bigger!”
I nodded my head.
“So he got his Daddy, who is some big business man, to buy him his own railroad, complete with a real working steam powered locomotive and coach cars. And then got the gamblers, pimps, drunks, crooks, and boozers of New Orleans to staff it! Hell, when the unemployment office set me up with this job I thought I was finally doing something right with life! For a minute I thought a blessing had fallen out of the pocket of Jesus! Turns out I'm just riding shotgun with the Devil five days a week. Fifty hours a week, straight pay, no fucking over time, five one hundred dollar bills, cold hard cash.” He said smirking as he once more lifted the lip of the bottle to his whisker cheeks.
I noticed that the liquid in the bottle was an amber color. Kind of a light brownish color. The color reminded me of Pine-Sol. But it did not smell like Pine-Sol. It smelled like sour corn whiskey, and after a few seconds he had drained the bottle and once it was empty he just casually tossed the bottle over his shoulder and out the window and smiled as he reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out one another.
“What are you drinking?” I asked.
“Irish Cough Syrup! The best damn cough syrup known to fucking,” He said smiling sweetly.
“Are you allowed to drink 'Irish Cough Syrup' to drink on the job?” I asked as I leered toward him.
“No no, but hell no, OSHA will raise seven billion dollars worth of hell.” He said, smirking. “But when you ride this route, each and every time might be your last. We are going to be passing through some rough, thick swamps here in a few minutes. I suggest praying the Rosary. Cause if the summer floods have washed out the old wooden trestle ahead. We'll be going for a swim. And if the wreck doesn't kill you the gators will eat ya.” He shouted with a bark like laugh as he took another long sip.
“Say pretty woman. What your name” The Conductor asked as he took another long swig from his bottle.
“Isabella!” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Well Isabella, if you don't mind me saying this, you look mighty pretty! If something does happen to you. I'm sure the old mortician down at St. Andrew's Funeral Home will have a blast with you! I personally know the fellow. We drink and play cards together. He likes to give all the pretty girls that fall under his car one last dance and one last blast thump before sealing them into the cold casket!” He said falling into a fit of insane laughter, the laughter reminded of the comic book character 'The Joker' or the Steven King character 'Pennywise the Dancing Clown'. His laughter lasted for several minutes before he started to cough and choke.
“...” I shuttered and tried my best to put that mental image out of my head. We'd been on the rails for a good forty five minutes at this point and right now I could see the station sigh for Fisherman's Landing, a small hamlet of about one hundred or so families ahead. Like Blue Bayou, the railroad was often only the link to the outside roads for such small settlements. The platform seemed empty though. The sick, old man hung his out the window and then hollered at the top of his lungs.
“KEEP ON ROLLING JIM DANNY! NOBODY THERE, AND TELL LITTLE GATOR TO SHOVEL ON SOME MORE COAL. WE CAN BLAST RIGHT THROUGH THAT SHITTY LITTLE STATION, LAW HARD ON THE WHISTLE AND LET THEM CAJUN AND CREOLE SONS OF BITCHES THAT THE 'NEW ORLEANS AND BATON ROUGE' IS BLASTING THROUGH THAT SHITTY LITTLE HAMLET.” His voice was drowned out by the wind.
A few seconds my eyes went as wide as saucer plates as an ear piercing whistling sound filled the air. I then bellowed in pain and confusion as the train seemed to pick up speed. The conductor just smiled and laughed as the train started to rocket down the tracks. The screeching sound of its steam whistle howling at the top of its iron lung into the late morning air and the loud cracking of the tracks filled me with a pending sense of dread.
And that is where I must end this episode.
Lanterns on Lake Pontchartrain
An Acadiana Transgender Story
-8-
Bunny Girls Do Not Live in Bookstores! (2)
Baton Rouge, Louisiana is the capital city of Louisianan and the biggest city in Louisianan as well, with a population of roughly a million and a half souls living within the metropolitan area. The city could also boost by hosting two annual anime conventions. The first one was Louisiana Anime and Manga; that one was held in the summer and the second one, Louisiana Anime Social Gathering was held in the fall, normally around Halloween. There was Louisiana Comic Gathering, a general comic convention that mainly focused on American comic books, but also Manga most EOM (English Original Manga) that was held toward the end of Summer, normally right before school took in. So really three.
Now, it is safe to say that I lived through the hellish, roller coaster ride that train ride here was. I had little time to rest however as it was nearly fully dark by the time that old steam train pulled into the station in the heart of downtown Baton Rouge. A herd of cows decided to block our progress between Port Spanish and Fisherman's Landing. And we ran out of both coal and water as we were leaving New Orleans. In fact I had very little time to see the city. I was rushed from the concrete platform of the station to the Bed and Breakfast.
Anyway that is behind me now, what I needed most now was sleep, sleep and food. I'd been on short rations since leaving Blue Bayou. And the only place that was open and that I could afford when my train finally reached Baton Rouge was a McDonalds. Not my first choice, but I was pushed into the corner. And so I'd settled on stuffing my face with chicken nuggets and golden colored french fries and I washed it all down with coke-cola. So after that I was rushed to the Bed and Breakfast.
Once I was checked in, I was shown to my room. Once I was safe in my room, I got a quick shower and then fell fast asleep. My phone jolted me awake the following morning and then stumbling like a zombie I once more stumbled my way to the bathroom and into the shower. Once I'd finished my shower I dressed myself in the same floral sundress and stumbled down to breakfast. My breakfast that morning was cold oatmeal and cold coffee.
After breakfast I called an Uber that took me to the Barnes and Noble where the photo shoot would take place. And that is where I must start this chapter. You see, dear readership, as soon as I reached the bookstore, I spotted my cousin who was having her morning cup of coffee in the on site coffee shop. She said nothing to me, she only smiled a wicked little smile as she pushed a flower print paper handbag toward me.
“Okay Isabella.” My cousin said without bothering to say 'Hello' or 'Good Morning'. “You have around twenty minutes to get changed. You can get changed in the bathroom down here on the first floor. Once you've changed, you can start making your way toward the manga section that is located on the third floor. Take your time and stroll around each section. I know you hate escalators. But for this gig you'll just have to put your big girl panties on and overcome that fear and take it. Inside the bag, you will find the costume, plus some shoes. Oh, and in case you made the rookie mistake of not shaving your legs, I included some shaving foam and some safety razors, there pink.” Jasmine finished her coffee and tossed the paper cup into a nearby trash can.
“And remember girl, you have just under twenty minutes to get changed. Jasmine paused and took a deep breath. “And Kagesaki-Sama wants to stroll around the bookstore for at least two if not three hours. To really drum up support for her book. Listen, she is not too keen on having her baby translated from Japanese to English. And this is her first time in America. So we really need to make a good impression.”
I nodded my head.
“Good, now go ahead and get changed and let's get this ball rolling. It should take you less than ten minutes to slip on that costume. Twelve minutes tops. Also please do something with your face. You look plain. You know, put on a little lipstick, a little foundation, a little eyeliner, maybe a little brush. And for the love of God, please run a brush through that rat's nest you call hair.” Jasmine said, sighing as she stood up and slowly she started to walk around around me, well she started to circle me, like a lion, she then leaned in and sniffed and then she sighed again.
“And please put on some perfume too, cause right now you smell like soap.” She added as she walked off. “I'm going to the bar across the street right now. I need something stronger than coffee. I need some liquid courage.” And with that she pushed right past me.
“Hey!” I quickly spun around and peered at my cousin retreating. “You're not going to stay and shadow me?”
“Nah.” Jasmine said. “You'll either sink or swim and if you sink, you'll drown and your wrathful spirit will haunt this place.” I could tell right off the bat that Jasmine was in a snarky mood. And it made my blood boil.
“Bitch!” I snared.
“Stop talking and go get changed.” She said. “Or else both of us will be in a kettle of boiling water. And listen, Kagesaki-Sama is kind of old school Japanese. You make a fool of yourself, you'll also end up making a fool of me, and heck she might even order us to commit freaking seppuku.” Isabella turned upon her heels and folded her hands behind her back as she leaned in and smiled.
“How does that dear cousin, being forced to get down on your knees and kneel down in the middle of this busy, bookstore, dressed in only a sexy cosplay and then being forced to commit seppuku because you made a fool of yourself? Think about that while you get dressed.” She added as she smiled and then she winked at me.
“Bitch!” I muttered under my breath again.
“Love you too!”
“Bitch!” I muttered again as I turned upon my heel and marched toward the bathroom to well get changed. As I walked I found myself muttering under my breath. “First she books my train ticket on that bucket of bolts, and then.. oh forget it.” I whispered harshly under my breath as I tramped toward the bathroom where I would hopefully get changed. After ten or so minutes I found the bathroom. It was tucked into a little corner next to the 'Occult' and 'Paranormal' sections.
Taking a deep breath I walked into the women's restroom. What the worst that could happen to me is a bunch of TERF's flushing into the store? Maybe they would drag me out of the bathroom. I could see it now, a bunch of hyped up Southern Baptists waving around Bibles would come roaring in like a lioness, bust open the door to the bathroom stall, drag me out of the bathroom and then drive a stake into the ground and tie me to it.
While wearing the Bunny Suit of course. Then they would go to the manga section, gather up all the manga and light novels they could lay their hands on. And make a big pile around me. I'm sure then they would soak down the glossy pages with lighter fluid and for added measure even toss in the anime DVD's the store store sells. Cause you know anime and manga both come from the devil if you believe every word that comes from the foul mouths of the Southern Baptist. Anyway once the light novels and mangas are saturated with lighter fluid, I'm sure somebody will toss on a match and boom. There you go, one transgender girl extra crispy.
With those pleasant thoughts swirling around inside this head of mine. I walked into the first empty stall I spotted and then I took a deep breath. I guess it was now time for me to face the music. And so with trembling hands I opened the handbag and then I felt my face go red as a tomato. Inside the bag is faux, leather strapless, leotard, a bowtie, and bunny ear headband and of course the cuffs with big brass buttons and faux, leather kitten heel shoes. And sheer stockings. And let not forget the cute little fluffy, round bunny tail.
I took a deep breath and sighed. And saying nothing else I started to strip myself. Starting with my shoes and socks and working my way up. As I removed each piece of clothing I found myself muttering under my breath as I struggled in the confined space of the bathroom stall.
“They could have provided a decent changing room.” I muttered as I finally managed to get undressed. And then I had to struggle with the costume. Starting with the sheer stockings. And then I had to struggle with the faux, leather strapless leotard. I quickly found out the outfit gave my small breast a good boost and made my girls seem larger and rounder than they were. So I guess that was an added bonus.
And finally I got the cuffs, the bowtie and the bunny ear headband on. And last but not least I slipped my feet into the kitten heel shoes. I sighed and took a deep breath as I stuffed my normal clothing into the handbag. My heart was racing, I felt sick, and at that very moment I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole!
“I guess it's time to face the music!” I said blushing a little. As I turned around and peered toward my bottom that was encased in the faux leather costume. “Does this make my bottom look big?” I asked myself.
At that moment a random person decided to walk in. The woman blinked and just leered at me for a few minutes before going into one of the stalls to use the bathroom. A few minutes passed before I heard the toilet flush and a few more minutes later the woman opened the door of the stall and walked up to the sink to wash her hands.
“You know, I try not to judge.” She said as she finished washing her hands and started to dry them with a brown paper towel. The woman then turned toward me and tossed the paper into a nearby waste can.
“But! You should be ashamed of yourself! I bet your mother is ashamed of you. And if she not, then she did a piss ass job raising you.” And with that the woman turned upon her heels and walked away. I watched the woman retreat out of the corner of my eye. Once I was sure she was out of the bathroom, I took a deep breath and heaved another heavy sigh and gave myself once more in the mirror.
“Well, that the first Southern Baptist I'd pissed off today. I wonder if there going to burn at the stake now or wait till the book signing thing is over.” And with that I gathered up my courage and left the bathroom. It was time to start my two hours of walking around the bookstore, dressed as a bunny girl, heck I might even flirt with a few people while I'm at it.
To be Continued.