Hair Salon / Long Hair / Wigs / Rollers

Career Day: The Wheels On The Bus Go Round And Round. Part 2

grover — Sun, 30 May 2010 08:43:51 -0400

The next morning, I peeked out of my blankets. Carefully touching my revised plumbing and almost painfully sensitive beasts, I breathed out relived. It hadn’t been a dream. I was still in this alternate past transformed into an Asian girl.

A rather annoyed, “Meow!” under my covers made me giggle. Shaking herself, the cat sniffed at the cold air before deciding she would stay where it was cozy a while longer.

Last night I’d berated myself for forgetting, of all things, our pets. I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on myself considering the train wreck like series of shocks I’d gotten yesterday, but still you know it’d been really cold last night.

All my family’s pets worked for their living just like on any farm. Living out in the country meant our house was surrounded by farm fields. Looking at it from afar, it was like an oasis of trees surrounding our house in a sea of whatever was being planted that year. That also meant we were under siege by armies of field rats, snakes and other vermin. Our dog, part Collie, and Shepard mix, Lady was the general in charge of Home defense. She took care of any threats bold enough to challenge our perimeter. Our next line of defense was a good offense. Fearlessly patrolling deep into enemy territory like Special Forces and recon teams were our cats.

Like all outside cats, sometimes they leave and don’t come back. They’re cute, furry, and huggable, but they’re also predators. It’s a dangerous world out there for any hunter. Their numbers varied as kittens were born and they came and went. We gave away legions, but sometimes we found a new boarder had taken up residence. That was Smoky.

She simply appeared one day at feeding time. I suspected she was someone’s runaway because of her so soft fur. It was bluish black, but when you looked underneath it was a silver gray. That was how she got her name. She was so soft it was like touching smoke. You could feel the warmth under your fingers and yet it was nearly insubstantially soft.

We did have a protected room for our pets, heated by the same high wattage light bulbs used for incubating eggs for weather like this. Even by the standards of animal care in 2010 it was probably enough, but if I couldn’t bring in all of them. I could sneak in Smoky.

From her contented rumbling, I didn’t think she was complaining. On the other hand, I had to get her back outside without being caught. It being a Saturday, Mom and Dad was sleeping in, but from the sound, my brothers were up. Saturday cartoons were too much for them to resist even with all the snow still falling outside.

Dressing, I hid Smoky under my jacket. Doing my best to stay quiet, I tip-toed though my parents room first to the bathroom. Okay maybe girls’ bladders are smaller because I really had to go. I didn’t flush because I didn’t want to alert the terrible twosome. Peeking outside, I made my break for the door.

I expected a problem getting the screen door open since it opened out. The snow had drifted blocking the door, but not as bad as I feared. A sharp shove and I was outside!

Smoky, “Meowed” sticking her blue gray head out of the top of my jacket to see. I found my breath taken away not just by the cold, but by the beauty of the sight and the memories it invoked. Sensibly, she decided it was better to stay where it was warm.

Softy running my finger over her fur, I felt the chilly tracks of tears running down my face. Snowing all night, the accumulation had to be nearly a foot, but it would grow to about another foot before it was all over. Taking a deep breath I tried to take it all in so I would never ever forget this moment.

Even if I’d found a Genie’s Lamp or some other plot device from Transgender Fiction could all of my dreams be so fulfilled. Not perfectly since all I wanted was to be a more feminine me. This whole Asian girl thing was never part of any wish fulfillment of mine. However, the time I’d spent with my Mom had more than made up for that small detail.

I sighed my breath frosting before me. As wonderful as this was, it was also temporary. If I wanted to keep this, I would have to work for it. Reaching for the shovel, I began clearing the porch and steps.

Way back when in the Thirties when Daddy first built this house it’d been smaller. It’d lacked indoor plumbing among other things. The outhouse still sat a distance away a snow covered mound. As time passed he’d added on a bathroom, and the small room I now called mine. Most recently, when he married my Mom she insisted on having an electric washer. He’d expanded the back porch tacking on an outside washer room.

That room became multipurpose sheltering our pets as well as a makeshift greenhouse at times. As I cleared the snow away Lady, our Collie Sheppard mix stuck her nose out to see what was up.

Ready for a break, I found a small thirteen year old girl had nowhere near the muscles or stamina of even a worn out overweight 49 year old male. Resting on the shovel, Lady greeted me with a wet doggie kiss slobbering all over me. To my surprise my Career Day transformation didn’t faze her at all. Some of our platoon of cats were a little hesitant, but then again Smokey hadn’t doubted who I was for an instant either. Like Star Trek TNG Data’s Spot, Smoky was a one person cat.

Tail wagging, Lady gave the rest of the felines just beginning to nose about a disdainful eye. I smiled remembering finding them all, dog and cats alike cuddled together even though it wasn’t that cold. I could almost hear her asking, ‘So where’s breakfast?’

That reminded me I was hungry too. While I was bound and determined not to end up fat, this body, transformed or not was used to pigging out. Just like the way to stop smoking was not to start, the best way to lose weight was not to get fat to begin with. On the other hand I didn’t want to got the other way into anorexia. Hopefully feeling better about who I was would help besides knowing the consequences of having been at over a hundred pounds overweight.

Smoky peered out again disturbed by my shoveling and add her own voice to the gathering chorus wanting breakfast. “Meow!”

While I could begin cooking, there was much I didn’t remember about how much Dad usually fixed or other details that could cause problems. From helping with lunch and supper last night I saw that they must’ve just come back from picking up the weekly groceries when they got called about the ‘snowday’.

We did however live frugally and me wasting food would be, however good my intentions, frowned on. I was trying to build goodwill not cause problems. The solution for that was me to watch carefully this morning and cook breakfast for the family tomorrow morning.

With that decided I got back to work. This was good because I was learning my physical limitations, but it was awkward relearning how to move my remodeled bod.

Finally finished I did a bit of ‘touching up’ of the exposed areas that already was covered back up in white again. “There,” I announced to my audience of dog and cats. “What do you think?”

Unimpressed they were a tough sell. I however wasn’t above a little bribery, doling out a bit of dog food we used to supplement their diet. Mostly they ate our leftovers. This family wasted nothing if it could help it.

Smoky decided that food was worthy enough cause to leave the warmth of my jacket. Leaping down she asserted her place in the pecking order at the food dish.

Shaking off the cold and snow, I went back inside. Immediately, I was confronted by Adam.

“What were you doing out there, girl?” He interrogated sneering as if that was the worst possible thing he could think of.

Knowing Adam it probably was. He was after all only 10 and still in that girls had cooties stage. He’d grown up the stereotypical redneck male and proud of it. The last time I’d seen him in my old world, he’d been doing the Civil War reenactment thing and proud of it for goodness sakes.

However the one standing in front of me right now was still only ten years old.

“I was cleaning off the porch and steps,” I replied.

He got this glint in his eyes. “Have you done both the front and back?” He asked more like a demand than a question.

I gave him an annoyed glance. “No I did not! I did the back porch so I could get to the washroom to check on Lady and the cats. It is snowing after all. They’re fine by the way. I gave them a little food since it’s so cold and icy out.”

Adam puffed up. “Now you need to go do the front. You’re girl now so you have to clean up after us men.”

I looked down my nose at him. “Oh really?” I replied dryly. “And what if I don’t?” I asked looking down at him. I might be the smallest kid in my sixth grade class but I was still taller than any of the fourth graders.

He put his hands on his hips trying to sound tough. “I have to beat you up.”

My new ears heard movement from inside our parents bedroom. Adam was so busy posturing he didn’t hear a blessed thing. However as tempting as it was to let him dig his own grave, I really needed to gain if not his respect or even fear, a mutual understanding.

I crossed my arms giving my brother a cold stare. “What’s makes you think you could do that now when you couldn’t come close before?”

He leaned forward and said, “You’re a girl. I’m a boy. Boys beat up girls.” He said ‘girl’ again like it was the most horrible thing he could imagine.

Not able to help myself, I giggled. “You say that like that’s a bad thing. I have no idea of who you’ve been hanging with but I know you didn’t get that from Mom and Dad. But first let me tell you why you’ll lose any fight with me. First size matters and I’m still bigger than you are. Second, you’ve forgotten all about me being contagious as well as the cooties.”

Listening hard I was guessing that it was Dad right outside the door. Younger brother however kept digging his hole deeper. “Size doesn’t matter because boys are stronger and tougher. You’re not contagious, I asked Dad last night and I don’t think you’ve been a girl long enough to get the cooties.”

I had to keep from rolling on the floor. Because we’re surrounded by farm fields, we’d been corp dusted so many times it was silly. This was the age of DDT, cooties otherwise known as lice and just about any other bug, but never had a chance anywhere near our house. Fortunately, none of us had any health problems that could be trace to that. Although Dad’s death and Mom’s breast cancer as well as my own Transgender condition did make me wonder from time to time.

“There is one other thing you’ve overlooked young grasshopper.” I told him playing my hole card.

Still bowed up and confrontational, he replied, “What’s that?”

I turned letting him see my profile. “I’m Chinese now. Everyone knows the Chinese all know Kung Fu.”

He blinked caught unawares. We both watched that show with David Carradine. It was really our first exposure to the martial arts. I didn’t count the professional wrestling on TV on Saturday afternoons. Needless to say I’d seen him awkwardly spinning around and kicking in the backyard afterwards.

Not having a good answer for that one Adam backed off.

Dad apparently had heard enough. Coming out the bedroom suddenly, he caught my younger brother by surprise. “Have you gotten the porches and steps cleared off yet? If we’re going hunting for rabbits, we’ll need to get a start right after breakfast.”

I giggled again understanding what he was trying to pull now. History was already changing. In my original timeline, it’d been me that’d gone hunting. We didn’t find anything fortunately for the little furry critters, but it’d helped define how I thought about hunting. I’d much rather pet than eat them.

Before Adam could take credit for what I’d done, I said, “I fed Lady and the cats a little pet food since it was so cold. I had to shovel some to get to the door.”

Dad’s face was as still as stone but I saw a smile in his eyes. “Well that only leaves the front for you to do Adam. You should thank Ernie for doing some of your work for you.”

Adam was blushing at being caught, but muttered something that could possibly might be thanks.

I however choking back more giggles, smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome Adam. I left the shovel by the washer room.”

Dad and I watched him go outside.

“If he does start fighting with you, tell us,” Dad told me. I knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

“I don’t know where he got those ideas about how to treat girls and women, but that stops right here.” I heard the steel in his tone. “But you shouldn’t tease him like that though,” he said shaking his head to keep from laughing.

“Okay, Daddy,” I replied.

He looked at me since I hadn’t called him that in a while, but let it pass. “See that you do,” He said starting breakfast.

I sat next to Darryl who was intently watching the ’The Superfriends’ on TV. Taking out pen and paper I made quick notes on what I need to know to surprise my parents tomorrow morning. I paid close attention to those things I knew was tricky, like for instance just how much water to add to the grits to give the consistency Dad liked. Most of the rest was looking ahead at the possible problems I would have being smaller now and cook.

Mom with her usual timing got up just in time for Dad to start serving. She certainly had him trained well, I grinned to myself. Putting my notes safely in my pocket I evaluated the possibility of giving them breakfast in bed.

Adam came in breathless and tracking snow though the house.

Mom glared at him, and I knew he was a heartbeat away from trouble.

I decided to butt in saying, “It’s okay Mom. I’ll mop it up if Adam will clean up from breakfast.” Not giving anyone a chance to say anything else I jumped up going for the mop. While everyone else was seating I did a real fast job of damp mopping.

Running back to the table in time for the Blessing, I got back up finishing and put the mop away.

The whole time I felt Adam’s eyes on me. He really had no idea how to behave around girls. I had to keep from ruefully shaking my head. Truthfully, I didn’t either. I’d spent my entire life stumbling along with the few relationships that I’d managed ending in disaster and ruin. It wasn’t till I began seriously trying to come to terms with my feminine nature that I’d started to heal the years of hurt I’d done to myself denying my true nature.

Slipping into my chair I heard my stomach rumble. Looking down at my plate full of food, I divided it out again. This time I noticed Adam and Darryl eying my leftovers. “Darryl you want a piece of my bacon?” I asked offering him the choicest part.

At his nod and grin, I passed it over ignoring Adam’s scowl. Then I asked brother dear, “Do you want the rest?”

He really want to say no, but greed will get them every time. “Yeah,” Adam grunted.

Darryl happily gave me a ’thank you’ around a mouthful of food despite Mom’s warning not to talk with his mouth full. He grinned a three year old’s respect to authority.

Adam hunched over his food much like one of our cat’s jealously guarding its share. Mom and Dad had stormy expressions as they waited to see if he remembered his manners. Predictably he didn’t.

Like I said my parent’s are old fashioned believing in manners. We might be poor, but never ever trashy. One of the keys to that was discipline as my brother was about to find out.

Adam tell your bro… err Lil Ernie thank you.” Dad commanded.

Younger bother looked up unhappily. Recognizing that he’d crossed over a line he really shouldn’t have said. “Thank you Lee.”

Mom and Dad stared at him for using my middle name. Adam had yet to realize just how much baiting his big brother game had changed.

I however, rather liked it. Lee was androgynous enough to pass as male or female. However something else that’d always bothered me was being a junior. Thirty-seven years ago, being Lil Ernie was ‘annoying.’ Now let’s not even go there.

Before the situation got worse for Adam, I spoke up. “I like that, Lee. What do you think Mom? Can I go by my middle name for as long as I’m like this? It fits better than Ernie,” I said intentionally leaving off the Lil prefix.

Mom and Dad exchanged one of those silent communications things parents do so often.

I wondered if I dared say anything else. It’s possible I’d already dropped too hints and clues as to what I really wanted. Preparing the ground is one thing, but it’s easy to over do it too. In theory they should come to realize what I wanted by themselves with as little help from me as necessary. However, when you wanted something really bad, restraint is hard. So I bite my lip and said nothing.

Using their parent’s telepathy, Dad had apparently given Mom carte blanche for this one.

“I think that is a good idea Lee,” she said. “This Career Day thing is suppose to be a learning experience. Let's do that.” Mom sipped her coffee.

“You’ll get to know everything about the other half lives, and your brothers will learn how to act properly around girls. I can see you all need to work on your manners.”

She then glared at Adam. “As for you young man. You know better. If I don’t see a change in your attitude, in a few years when it’s your turn to got though this thing, I’ll make a special request. Do I make myself clear?”

Poor younger Bro turned nearly white.

“Yes ma’ams,” echoed around the kitchen table.

The rest of breakfast was much subdued, but I’d gotten my answer. Yes, I’d gone a mite too far.

Adam was most unhappy about helping clean up from breakfast and doing dishes. Even little Darryl who grew up to be quite a hell raiser in his own right kept quiet.

I decided since I’d already started cleaning floors to finish the job. With so much of the house unheated, I settled for sweeping and touching up with a damp mop. That did take care of the drips Adam left behind that I’d missed before breakfast. It also let me attack some of the clutter. Taking care of that let me secure what stuff I recognized as mine from the mischief of my two recently chastised brothers.

Dancing with broom and mop continued the lesson I’d started with the shovel this morning. I was learning how my much younger transformed body moved now. Despite my hope it wouldn’t happen, I was guessing Adam would force a show down. Proper preparation prevents piss poor performance. I meant to be ready. This was my first step. The next needed me to find something to work out in.

That was going to be a problem. I really doubted I would be able to find any kind of pants that would work. My regular jeans wouldn’t let me really push the limits of how flexible I was. The poor thing again, I didn’t have anything else other than jeans and a pair of ‘Going to meetin’ pants. It was either shorts or hope there was pair of sweat pants hidden in the bottom of that suitcase.

Mom had kept an eye on me as I cleaned. That was a good thing. Since finding a daughter she’d been much more ‘engaged’ with the world. Usually she retreated into herself letting Dad deal with running the family and handling us boys.

From my worldly prospective, I could see she suffered from major depression and perhaps anxiety disorder as well. She’d also attempted suicide several times. I blame her childhood abuse. I might not be a doctor but having suffered from anxiety and depression myself, it was a good guess.

I’d no idea if the gee-whiz process that made me look like Bruce Lee’s little sister could help her. The Career Day machine did pickup on my feminine and adult neural patterns. That was a hopeful sign since effective antidepressants were still years away.

This did make me think. For years one of the linchpins of my denial was my childhood. The conditions and situation let me rationalize that it was better that I hadn’t been born a girl. Being poor in the 1970’s with the rising drug culture made it likely that I would’ve ended up in a bad way if I’d been born female.

I could see now just how utterly selfish that was. It had to be all about me, but what about my Mom? Already I could see Lee was making a difference in the quality of her life. Could this continue? I didn’t know. Already the history that I’d known was diverging further with each day. My thoughts of using my future knowledge and becoming rich were fading. However, I felt more at ease with myself and confident that no matter my sex or gender I could and would have a positive influence on the ones I loved in this strange second chance I’d been given.

Getting the distinct feeling Mom was trying to show me every negative aspect of femaleness, she asked, “How do you like wearing a pad?”

Truthfully I answered, “It feels like I’m wearing a diaper down there.”

Scoring herself a point she, added, “Are you ready to go back to being a boy?”

I made a show of sighing and stopping my cleaning. “Well, that part of being a girl isn’t very comfortable, but there’re good things too.”

Mom picked up a stack of books and started to put them away. With so many readers in the house there was always books to be shelved. “Really?” She said kneeling to reach the bottom shelf.

I knelt with her nodding. “I guess I must be weird, but I like the time we’ve spent with each other. That’s nice.”

She couldn’t hide her own smile as I went on.

“It’s cool to be able to show my feeling without anyone making fun of me about it. Boys don’t cry or other stuff like calling Dad, Daddy if I want.” I explained helping her with the books.

“Oh I know there’s bad things too. I know a little about the biology part with periods although I expect you’ll set me straight on the details. Can’t say I’m looking forward to any of that, but it is possible because they provided those napkin things in the suitcase.” I said ruefully.

“Adam gave me a taste of even more of the bad with that hmmm… stuff he was talking. Some men seem to think peeing standing up gives them some kind of special privileges besides being able to write their names in the snow!” I giggled.

Mom bowed her head thinking about old memories I think.

“Right now, I’m bigger than Adam, but if I stay this way that’ll change. I’ll grow another two or three inches but then I’m finished. Be lucky if I end up as tall as you are. Everyone will be taller than me. Size does matter after all,” I acknowledged.

“On the other hand, there are ways to make up the difference by fighting dirty. There’s the martial arts thing and other equalizers. All those things won’t help finding a job where I could be paid the same wage as man for the same work. I know the world isn’t fair.” I felt the tears start to well up inside. Oh damn.

I knew I should stop but having come so far I couldn’t. “But what is so great about being a boy?”

“Not getting beat up? No, that still happens when you’re as small as I am.”

“Maybe not being so small? Let’s be real. There’s always going to be men and women who’s going to be taller than me, even as a male.”

“How about beating up other people or the whole sports thing? You should know I’m not like that and couldn’t care less about football, or most other sports. The only sports I really watch are the stuff girls are into anyways, like gymnastics and figure skating.” The first tears began to fall.

“So the only reason to be a boy is because I might be able to get a better job. I have to hide my feelings, and be miserable doing something I probably don’t like so I can make a few more dollars.” I sobbed unable to continue.

She hugged me. “Is that really how you feel honey?”

Sniffling, I nodded.

Mom held me tight sighing, “The world isn’t a good place. There’re so many who think nothing of it to take advantage of women and girls. I figured out you wanted to stay like this almost as soon as you got in the car yesterday. That's besides Adam catching you in my pantyhose last year.”

Blushing, I thought I did a better job of covering up than that. As for the pantyhose, well at least that embarrassing incident was the same as I remembered.

A little sadly she laughed seeing my face. “Dear you were doing everything, but skipping down the sidewalk. I don’t think anyone thought you were anything, but joyful.”

“But,” She said. “You can’t stay like this. There’re so many who would hurt you. Okay the world isn’t fair. I’m so sorry that because of your speech and learning problems you know this already. It’s hard for anyone but it’s worse for girls. Far better to be a boy no matter how you feel.”

Another tear stung my eyes as it fell. I knew exactly why she felt that way. If it was within my power I would try and make it right, but I couldn’t. Those horrible events happened even further back in the past.

Obviously my so devious plan had unraveled before I’d hardly started. Somehow I had to make her understand. “Mom, I know Granddad hurt you from listening to you and Dad talk. Maybe one day you’ll be able to tell me about it, but please don’t think being a boy is going to somehow protect me from the bad out there.

“Yeah, I’ve known for a long time that inside my heart I was more girl than boy. I can’t tell you why. Maybe it just happens sometimes like babies with hare lips or Adam with his cross-eyed thing.” I tried to explain. The reasons were still unknown even three decades from now, but I couldn’t tell her that.

“This isn’t a phase I’m going though. I didn’t decide one day I wanted to be girl because I think the grass is greener on the other side. I didn’t decide anything at. It just is.”

I tapped my heart. “In here, I’ve always been feminine. The games I play, and the pictures I draw all show that. The only remotely boy-like thing I’ve ever done is build model air planes. But flying isn’t only for men. Look at Amelia Earhart or …” I caught myself before I said Valentina Tereshkova the woman cosmonaut. There was no way to know if she was the first woman in space in this strange new world.

“Or any of those women pilots who flew during WWII ferrying planes all over the world,” I tried to cover for in my near snafu.

Opening my mouth to say more, Mom put her finger across my mouth stopping me. “I believe you.”

I saw the anguished sadness in her all parents feel when they know their child is in pain, but can’t make the hurt go away. “We didn’t want this done to you to start with. I don’t think they’re going to listen if you say you want to stay like this.”

Truthfully I said, “Mom, I’m happy because this is as close as I’ve ever felt to being whole. I only want to be your and Dad’s daughter. This Chinese girl thing not so much.” Whoops, modern slang, but I think she understood me anyways.

“As for Career Day, well. ‘Please Brer Fox don’t throw me into the briar patch,’ I said grinning.

Mom smiled as she wiped my tears, “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

I had more ideas on the matter but thought it best to keep them to myself for now. More research was needed. Hell, I still had a lot of prep work to do.

“I have to try Mom. Even if I fail and I go back to being Lil Ernie, the know-how is still going to be there. I’ll try again.”

Shrugging I said helping her to her feet, “But I think the younger I begin the better. There is so much I’ve already missed out on. Starting as a girl now, I have a lot of catching up to do. If I’m older, there’ll be even more stuff for me to learn.”

Sighing she hugged me again. I felt her tears on my shoulder. “I did want red headed grandchildren from you, but if you stay this way I’ll never see them. You don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for wanting to be a girl.”

I couldn’t tell her that any children from me was a pipe dream anyways. I’d never could get past all my problems and make any of the relationships I’d had, work for more than a year or two. No woman with any sense wanted anyone as messed up as I was. Low self-esteem was insidious like that undercutting all your efforts.

Holding her, I said, “Who of us ever do? All we can do is trust our hearts and do our best. You said everyone could see my happiness. How long has it been since you’ve been able to say that?”

Adding to our pile of tissues, I said with glistening eyes, “Besides, I have you and Dad to help me with the hard parts.”

“I see you’ve thought about this some. When did you get so smart?” Mom lovingly accused me.”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Maybe because you’ve given such good role models?”

She gave me a playful shove. “Don’t sass your parents!”

Still wiping our sniffles and tears away, the door to the kitchen opened.

Little Darryl stood there dragging his jacket behind him. “Mama, me wanna go outside. Play in the snow!”

Little brother still didn’t know what to think of me.

Mom surveyed our work. “We did a good job. I think we can afford a little play, don’t you Lee?”

Silly me grinned as she used my feminine name. “Sure! My brogans are a little loose now, but should be okay with a second pair of socks.”

“You do that and I’ll get Darryl bundled up.” Mom said taking his hand.

Watching them leave, I exhaled happily. I’d no idea if I was doing the right thing, but I think both she and I were the better for it so far. Then I was rushing to get dressed.

Soon we were outside in the cold wet white stuff. I showed little brother how to make snow angels, and he showed me the lopsided snowman he and Adam made yesterday. Then Mom sneaked attacked us with a snowball. Lady, our dog, bounded out into the snow barking joining the fun trying to catch the snowballs. I think our poor dog was a little confused thinking they were her usual toys.

Darryl did score a near miss on the peanut gallery of kitties curiously watching our insanity. Smoky meowed loudly protesting while daintily shaking her paws clean. The rest of the pride who weren’t so trusting scattered like the wind.

Knowing he didn’t understand that while playing snowballs with the dog was okay, but it wasn’t with the cats, I distracted him with a tickling tackle. It didn’t take long for both of us to have snow in places we’d rather not, but we’re laughing so, we didn’t care.

Mom stood over us chuckling as she dug us out of the snowdrift. “Okay you two,” she said. “I think it’s time to thaw you both out.”

Winking at Darryl I slipped a snowball into his hand, glancing up at She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed.

Laughing manically, he threw it at her in that funny over the head way toddlers do. Maybe I should’ve said, he threw in her general direction because it didn’t even come close.

Catching it in midair, somehow the fragile thing didn’t fall apart as Mom eyed us. “So that’s the way it’s going to be huh?”

Scrambling up, I scooped up little brother but didn’t make another step before she nailed me right in the back of my neck sending yet more snow where it wasn’t suppose to go.

Squealing, I dropped Darryl hopping up and down like crazy as the ice ran down my back.

He rolled around in the snow helplessly red faced and laughing. Lady bounded up to him nosing him with her cold snout. Soon both of them were happily wrestling.

Grinning, me and Mom separated the two.

I was ready to go inside now. Wet and cold, I’d enough fun for now. Besides it was still snowing. If history repeated itself, our snow angels and footsteps would be covered in few hours.

Then I saw Mom smirking behind us.

There was Dad and Adam back from their hunting trip. Since they’d left about the time Mom and I started cleaning, I guessed they’d been gone about two hours. More than enough time for both of them to get chilled and ready for something hot.

What was so funny was their expressions.

Dad had this dumbfounded look that guys get when they see something they really liked. Adam however seemed to be torn between wanting to join us and trying to do the stoic guy thing.

Mom solved his dilemma. Her snowball caught Dad right in his shoulder.

Now, she was years younger than Dad. He was past old enough to be her father, but he was everything her own wasn’t. Maybe it was simply two lonely people trying find happiness and doing the best they could regardless of their ages. The point here is he grew up during WWI and was part of that ’Greatest Generation’ thing.

Dad looked down at the remains of the spattered icy projectile and did that Clint Eastwood ‘tick’ if you know what I mean. I swear sometimes Clint must’ve made Dad teach him how to do it just right. However, I truly believe my father was still the master of that ominous glare.

Belying, his 69 years, he scooped a snowball and let fly like big league pitcher.

Now it was Mom’s turn to squeal.

Time stopped as frozen as the snow we stood in as we three kids looked at each other. Did we really see our stoic tough guy dad throw a snowball? What should we do? With a gust of blowing snow, time resumed. Then we indiscriminately started tossing snowballs at everyone.

But all good things must come to an end.

Dad turned up the heater as we got out of our wet things. Adam and Darryl were in the bathtub making the most of the heat and hot water. Because of my transformation, I was going to get to have one by myself.

While I was waiting, I dug into that suitcase looking to see if a pair of sweatpants was hidden in the bottom. While I did found a couple of nostalgic wide sleeve blouses, and even a denim skirt, but no such luck for the pants.

A knock at the door announced Mom. She looked a bit tired, but as I well knew escaping from reality though the pages of a book didn’t do much for keeping one in shape. That snowball brawl got energetic there at the end.

Her green eyes didn’t miss the open suitcase. “You’re going to wear that?” Mom asked inclining her towel wrapped head at the denim skirt on the bed.

I tried to explain why I was looking for exercise gear, leaving out the part about maybe fighting with my brother. “I was looking for sweatpants. Girls are supposed to be a lot more flexible than boys. I wanted to find out just how much. You know the gymnastics thing.”

She nodded, but I saw her eyes was still on the skirt.

Feeling strange, I asked, “Would you like for me to model it for you?”

Mom smiled nodding again. Talk about weird. Growing up I think I would’ve killed for her permission to put on a dress. I was as giddy as if I’d the whole world on a platter.

Picking out a cream colored peasant blouse, I slipped on the skirt. Nervous like never before, I spun around for her enjoying the swish against my legs despite the cold. I think maybe this was a test for her to see just how far I wanted to go, but for me it was so much more. Emotions trapped within me for 40 years bubbled up as powerful as day they first began to bloom.

No wonder I’d failed tying to hide this. I’d had just as much chance of stopping Mt. St. Helen’s eruption or Hurricane Katrina’s Gulf Coast rampage. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I was overwhelmed by my feelings.

Then Mom’s arms were around me. “I'm sorry honey. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Slinging wet tears away, I shook my head. “Mom! These are happy tears. You have no idea of have how long I’ve waited to do this for you.”

She wiped my tears. “I’m going to have to start carrying a box of tissues with me if we keep this up.”

Despite our talking I knew she was still resistant to me staying female. Smiling up at her I wondered if she was softening. I saw the change in her face.

Taking my hand Mom said, “Come with me.”

She led me to her wardrobe. Giving me a crooked smile she started digging in her closet. “I don’t have sweatpants, but I think these will work.” Mom held out a pair of black leggings.

I didn’t need a mirror to know my eyes were bulging out. It was one of those contradictory things. Because of her past abuse, Mom often tried to cover up her femininity. However, I guess because she liked the comfort she also wore these very form revealing leggings.

That was how Mom had met Dad after all. She worked as a carhop at this drive-in he liked. The leggings were part of her uniform back then. You could say they were the reason why my brothers and I existed at all.

At my old age of 49, my parents’ sexuality didn’t bother me. If anything, from that look Dad gave Mom at the start of Snowball Fight Part Two, they might be looking for time together. Okay, yet something else for me to do along with everything else.

“Do you think it’ll fit?” I asked her my hands shaking a little.

Mom searched my face. “I think so. I’m only a little taller than you and they do fit snug. Go ahead and change.”

Happily I complied. Like she said they were snug, but still a little loose because I was shorter and only in the first stages of puberty. Still, I felt a rush looking into the mirror.

Turning to her, I hugged, “Thanks Mom! These will be perfect.”

She critically evaluated me. “You do need to stay out of your father’s sight wearing those. I think he might hurt himself. He still hasn’t got over what those people did to you. Mind you, he hasn’t forgotten that you got into my clothes last year, but this would be a bit much I think.”

I smiled changing back into the skirt.

Mom laughed, “I don’t think that is going to help any.”

Giggling, I had to agree. “Well I still have to shower.”

Glancing back into the mirror I saw another area I needed help. “Mom? What do I about my hair? I never had it long before.”

She ran her fingers though my tangled locks making wince when she it a snag. “The easiest way is to cut it.”

Raising an eyebrow seeing my pained expression, she suggested, “We could also braid it. If you’re set on keeping it long you’ll have to get used to brushing often and spending a lot of time keeping it nice.”

I nodded. Knowing all too well my tendency for procrastination, I might end up with it short. However, I wanted to have it long at least for a little while. I’d spent most of my old life with crew cuts or shorter because of my military service as well as all the dirty jobs I worked afterwards. Long hair was a luxury I wanted to experience.

“Mom, I know it’s going to be a lot of trouble, but I would like to try it long.”

Her eyes kinda flashed. I had the feeling I just had another test. Well, fine then!

“If you’re planning on bouncing around, now might be the best time. Your brothers are going to stay near the heater until their hair dries. Best for you to get sweaty now, before you bathe. Then you can get cleaned up and I’ll see what I can do about your hair. You might end up in pigtails. Does that bother you?”

“I would rather have one braid in the back than two,” I said holding my hands to the side of my head. But you fix it the way you think looks best. You know more about this than I do.”

Mom chuckled, “I don’t know. For a boy, You have pretty clear ideas about what you like as a girl.”

Trying to look innocent, I replied, “I might’ve been looking at what girls are wearing. Thinking about what I did and didn’t like, kinda sorta,” I said looking bashful.

She shook her head still trying to wrap her head around all of this. “Go, but mind don’t shake the house!”

Going back to my little room I almost had to turn crossways to change clothes. Good thing I was so lithe right now. Peeking into my brothers room to make sure the coast was clear, I found one of my ‘boy’ sweatshirts to go with Mom’s leggings. Another double pair of socks kept my feet reasonably warm as I went into our living room.

It was the only room in the house that had enough open space for me to really stretch out. Being closed off more or less for the winter the last time anyone really spent anytime in here was Christmas. In this house the kitchen was the heart of our home.

Reaching for the ceiling, and slowly lowering my arms, I touched my toes without really trying. Letting myself unwound, I found my nose on my knees. Okay test one was a success. I was limber as a snake!

Next was going to be harder. I spent time testing my balance and coordination. I stumbled a time or two but it mustn’t been very loud since no one came running to see what was up.

After spending so long as an obese middle aged man with the beginnings of Arthritis, this was exhilarating. There were rough spots but over all not bad. Settling into Tai Chi’s modified ‘horse stance’ I began the first movement. I’d just begun this a few weeks before my time dimensional shift or whatever.

Relying on cheap DVD instructional video, I knew my posture needed lots of work. It was what I could afford and was better than nothing. The other martial arts training I’d was years in the past. Even then I never went very far. I used to joke I knew enough to get myself hurt.

On the other hand, the self-defense aspects had come in handy any number of times. In fact, part of what I was doing was seeing how much of what I remembered could be used without inflicting real harm. Heel stomping, eye gouging, and other fun and popular ways of telling someone to please go away usually meant a trip to the doctor or even the emergency room. I really didn’t want to hurt anyone at all, much less my younger brother.

Now that I was warmed up, I tried a few punches and kicks. If nothing else they might serve as deterrents assuming I looked like I knew what I was doing. Practicing throws and falls was more of a problem without a partner. I did walk myself though what I could remember. At that swiveling of the hips that used to give me so much trouble seemed easier.

Feeling a lot more confident I played a little trying a handstand. That was an eye opener, because it told me just how much arm strength I’d lost. The answer was a lot! Trying a men’s style pushup told me fate was laughing at me again.

Ironically, I’d started the Tai Chi as an attempt to lose weight without exercising my already bulky shoulders and arms. I wanted a more androgynous body. Working out those thick arms and barrel chest was a no-no.

Now, that was exactly what I had to do. My arms needed work, a lot of work. The one thing that hadn’t change was trying to do it on the cheap. My family besides being miles away from the nearest dojo, didn’t have the money for me to take classes anyways.

Huffing a little from the effort I heard the door open. Pretending I hadn’t heard, I stretched upwards again going on tippy toes. Then I reached down for the floor. It was even easier this time since I was well stretched out. Wondering, how far I could take this I actually put my shoulders pass the plane of my legs. Wow!

Slowly I straighten enjoying the play of muscles while I peered at who was watching me.

Darryl was looking around the door frame leading to the dinning room. His eyes were wide with amazement.

I didn’t blame him. Hell, the first time I’d seen anything like this was on the old ABC’s Wide World of Sports thing about Taiwanese Acrobats. I’d stared at our little black and white TV in awe at those seemingly boneless, limber entertainers.

Smiling at my shy little brother, with a wink I leaned backwards. I couldn’t quite go all the way back and touch my hands to the floor. However I did go far enough I could see him still spying. Straightening, I made a promise to try and keep as much of this so cool flexibility as I could.

Not really knowing, I guessed that this was fairly normal for a girl to be this lithe. However like everything else I would have to do this on the cheap. Lots of kids are permanently injured for life in accidents involving trampolines, tumbling and other gymnastics activities. I did not want to spend my new life in a wheelchair. That meant I would have to be careful and plan. Oh great, more writing and thinking to do!

Sinking cross-legged onto the floor, I gestured at Darryl to come over, “Hey, come on in. I’m finished.”

Darryl and I had mostly got along while growing up. Unless you count his testing the aerodynamic properties of my fragile plastic aircraft models, there was too much of an age difference for us to really conflict. Now he and Adam used to get into it with some Gawd awful fights sometimes. Both were trying for the same limited resources, but I think it was also because they also competed for Dad’s attention too. Sometimes, it seemed Adam was fighting with everybody. Again something I never did much.

It was the son thing that at heart, I never was. After I left for the Army, and Dad died, he became a real hell raiser. Trouble in school, and my poor Mom unable to deal with any of it, had him joining the Navy one step ahead of the law.

Following a dishonorable discharge, he took up truck driving. Trouble still followed him, as he left a string of women and kids behind him. The last I heard he was working on his fourth marriage while paying alimony to the other three.

Darryl giggled and crept closer to me. He looked at me really intensely and then shook his head. “You ain’t Ernie.”

That sent a bolt of fear into me. It was back to my family thinking I was someone else. Trying not to freak out, I asked, “Why is that squirt?”

He got that expression young kids get when concentrating really hard. Darryl smiled big. “You smile lots!”

I couldn’t help giving him another one as I answered, “So I didn’t smile very much, huh? Well, I’m happier now.”

I knew it was coming when he asked, “Why?”

Just how do you explain to a three year old that a government bureaucracy using what you suspect are ETI artifacts changed his big brother’s gender and race because of some stupid jerk was indulging in pet theories of social engineering. Oh and let’s not forget the whole transgender deal where your self-image and who you identify with doesn’t match up with your physical appearance.

Well little brother used to like Sci-Fi and fantasy like me so let’s try this. “Well let's tell a story okay?”

He scooted closer as I held out my arms. After a moments hesitation he sat in my lap. “Once upon a time there was an evil witch. One day in May the sun was shining and everyone was out happy and having fun. It made her so very mad. She hated seeing everyone so happy so she started looking for trouble.

“It didn’t take her long to find a stork carrying a baby girl to her new family. Being crafty she waited until the bird put the baby down and knocked on the door. Then she wave her wand and magicked the girl into a boy!

“The Mama opened the door and found her new baby. She and the Daddy were a little confused because they thought they’re suppose to get a baby girl not a baby boy. But they were good parents and were happy with their new baby no matter what.

“The witch crackled with glee every time she looked in on the family. The baby was confused and sad. She didn’t understand why she was being dressed in blue and given all the boy toys. Her parents tried the best they could but they didn’t understand either why their baby boy seemed so sad.

“As she grew older, things got harder. She loved her parents and tried to do what they taught her, but she was a girl trying to do things a boy’s way. That didn’t work out so good. However no matter how hard she tried, things never worked out the way they were supposed to. The eggs got cracked, and the milk went sour. No one in the family was happy. Everyone the village was sad. They missed their eggs and milk. That made the old evil witch very happy. She liked making people feel miserable.

“The great kingdom they lived in had a powerful King. He knew the reason why his kingdom thrived was because of all the different people living within its borders. There were peoples of all shapes and sizes from the big blue people in the South to the tiny purple ones to the North and every size and description in between. They traded ideas and different ways of how to do things. That let their kingdom thrive in a way that other, lesser lands, couldn’t match.

“However, because they were all so different, they began to quarrel and fight. This made the king sad because he loved his kingdom and all of it's people. So he called all his wizards and wisest advisers together to find a solution.

“One wanted to change everyone so they were all the same. That way they would have no reason to fight if they were a nice bright orange, his favorite color. But the King knew that would destroy his kingdom’s greatest strength, their difference. Find another he ordered.

“One wily sorcerer wanted prove how great he was. He wasn’t interested in the Kingdoms benefit only in his own glory. He thought he saw a way to convince the King to try his plan.

“Great King,” he said, “Rather than change everyone why don’t we instead change their children so that they look like those they fought with. Surely, they wouldn’t hurt their own offspring, and it will make them see how much they are alike instead of how much they are different.’

“The King thought and thought. ‘No,’ he said. ‘The people might come after me thinking I’d stolen their children. Instead we will change them only for one week. During that time we will teach them how wonderful it is to be different, and that we are all brothers and sisters belonging to the same Great Kingdom.’

“The Wily Sorcerer gathered up a great number of witches and wizards to cast the spells the King commanded. Because he was interested only in his own welfare, he wasn’t too picky with who he selected to help. While many believed in the King with all of their hearts some were like the evil old witch wanting only to hurt others.

“One of those was a Sorceress who before she found her magic was fat and ugly. She used her powers to make her self slim and beautiful, but never forgot all those who used to make fun of her.

“Instead of obeying the king’s command to transform the children and teach them kindness and how we are all one people regardless of how we look, she wanted only revenge on everyone who wasn‘t ugly or fat like she used to be.

“Fortunately the King, being wise, made sure the magic spells couldn’t bring harm to anyone. But the Sorceress was clever. She used her powers to turn their children into those the parents most feared and hated. Then instead of teaching them love and kindness, she made them feel ashamed and little. When she finally turned them back, they were all unhappy and sad. That made the Sorceress very happy because that made their parents who used to pick on her miserable and upset.

“The parents shouted their unhappiness with this Sorceress, but there were many ohters who were also unhappy with the King. Their voices were lost in the roar of discontent.

“The young Sorceress’s revenge went on and on as she traveled. Finally she came to the village of the Boy who was a Girl. She found the family the evil old witch had cursed, but being inexperienced and full of vileness she saw only that the parents loved their son.

“That morning at the village school, everyone was afraid and angry. They’d all heard of this Sorceress and how she twisted the King’s decree to cause hurt and mayhem.

“Like she’d done so many times before, she used the King’s magic to change all the kids. Some were now blue or red and one was even purple. But for that one sad boy she wanted something really mean. Not seeing the curse and wanting to hurt the parents the Sorceress cast her spell. She turned him into a her.

I looked down at Darryl to see how he was taking this but he urged, “What happened next?”

Smiling I went on. “A big snowstorm came out of nowhere and everyone scurried home before the Sorceress could be mean and nasty making everyone feel bad.

“Safely back home where it was nice and warm, well the Girl found she was a Girl. She was worried about her parents and what everyone would think. That was because she truly cared about people. However, now that she was a girl and had to do things in a girl way, nothing went wrong anymore. The eggs didn’t get cracked and the milk stayed fresh.

Darryl interrupted, “What color did she get turned into? Yellow?” He asked.

Oh but the joys of growing up in the intolerant South. If I stayed looking ’Chinese’ as my parents called it, I would have to get used to this. Smiling I shook my head. “No silly! What color are my eyes?”

Wide eyed he peered and squealed, “Green and gold!”

“That’s right. But being a different color didn’t bother her. After she’d spent her whole life looking like a boy. No longer sad, guess what she did a lot of?” I asked my little brother pointing to my smile.

Giggling he answered, “She smiled a lot!”

“Yes she did!” I said. “But she had a big problem. No matter how mean the Sorceress was she had to turn all the children to back to what they were after a week.

“That was the last thing the Girl wanted. She didn’t like cracked eggs and sour milk any more than the rest of her village. So she came up with a plan to help her parents and brothers understand this was how she was supposed to be all along.

Enthralled, Darryl asked again, “What happened next?”

The Daddy and her younger brother went hunting, while the Girl helped her Mama clean their house. Then they went out with her baby brother and had a big snowball fight! “ I said tickling him.

“Not a baby!” He protested laughing rolling on the floor, “I’m a big boy. I’m three!”

Not so easily deterred, he demanded, “But what happened next?”

I countered, “What do you think happened?”

Unsurprisingly he said, “There was a big fight!”

Shaking my head no, I grinned, “Nope, although a lot of people were really, really mad at the King, when the magic changed the kids back, it cured all their diseases and made them all well. No one likes to have a sick child. They were still mad, but sorry squirt, no fight. Try again.” I told him.

“They beat up the Sor-cer-ess,” he said loudly unable to pronounce it quite right.

I tousled his short cut brown hair. “Nope they didn’t do that either. She was still doing the King’s business and guarded by his knights even if she was doing it all wrong. Try again.” I said.

“Aw please!,” he pleaded. “What was her plan?”

I stood up pulling him to his feet. “Well, she tried to be sneaky and just let everyone figure out on their own that she should’ve been a girl all along. Then she was going make the Sorceress so mad she would leave her a girl anyways no matter what the King said.”

I shook my head giving little brother the ‘sad eyes’ treatment. “But that didn’t work.” I told him sighing.

Walking towards the warm kitchen, he asked, “Why?”

I grinned at him just before we rejoined the rest of the family, “Seems like the Girl was so happy, she couldn’t hide it. Everyone figured out way before they were suppose to. Even her little baby brother knew she was smiling way too much.”

His understanding brighten his face just like that proverbial light bulb. Taking my hand he earnestly whispered if a mite loud, “So what happens now?”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I‘ll have to get back to you about that.”

He puffed himself up. “I won’t say nutting. You’re lots more fun than Ernie. I like you.”

Opening the door I took that in the spirit the three year old meant it as instead of an insult. “I like you too squirt.”

Despite my quick exit to grab my bath stuff, Adam saw me in Mom’s leggings. Of course he ratted me out to Dad. That was how I got caught the last time I’d dared dress in Mom’s stuff, the little rat! The good news was Dad didn’t have a heart attack or anything. However I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the last problem I had with Adam.

On the other hand, I enjoyed my bath. I finally had a chance to really examine myself. Last night since I was sharing my cot with Smoky, I couldn’t do that. The weird part was my mature mind saw this lithe girl with the cute face, but she was just entering puberty. That felt really uncomfortable even though it was me I was looking at.

Some TG girls have hang-ups about kids. Don’t get me wrong! I loved them and wish I could have some of my own. But I was very sensitive about avoiding possible allegations that because I was TG, I had to be a pedophile. It’s not true, but what people don’t understand they demonize. I’m afraid that was what many thought and believed even four decades into the future.

I hugged myself refusing to let those old fears ruin this second chance of mine. I made myself calm down. First figure out how to stay a girl then I can freak out about the whole sex thing. It was way too early to worry about who I might be attracted to or any the rest of it.

It was clear I needed to sit down and read that damn book. Of course I’ve not had distractions like being reunited with my father who’ve been dead for 30 years or finding beloved pets I thought I would never see again. And were just a few of the issues I faced.

Dressing in clean jeans, I noticed again how the pair I’d worn the day before had altered just as I was. The tags and all still said the same thing, but the cut and fit was different. Comparing the two showed significant changes had been made so they would fit the new me.

Putting on a green button up blouse from the suitcase, I found my brothers enjoying mugs of hot cocoa. Mom motioned me to sit in a chair where she had her old ‘bubble top’ hair dryer hooked up. It looked a lot like those bee hive things you see in the salons, but this one was more or less portable. I think she’d gotten it as a wedding gift, but she didn’t use it very often.

“Here sit down, and I’ll start on your hair,” she said handing me a steaming mug and sitting down behind me.

I wasn’t sure what she was doing back there, but my goodness was Dad doing his best not to see if you know what I mean. Adam decided to follow Dad’s cue ignoring us and watched the wrestlers on the tube.

Darryl however was staring at Mom and I. This was all new to him. Haircuts in this family were just that. Buzz cut it so it lasts as long as possible. Mom dealing with her depression and other issues didn't have the world’s most feminine hairdo. Me, introducing this into the family added something different he’d never seen before.

Mom explained what she was doing. “You should really let your hair dry before combing or brushing. But you’d some tangles we needed to comb out. Let’s get you under the dryer now.”

Sliding back she lowered the dome over my head turning it on. The warm air hit my head. The old 60’s hair dryer sounded like I had a leaf blower on my head.

Dad reached up and turned the TV up while Adam just cut me some more unfriendly glares. Darryl kept reaching up to feel the air. I pulled him giggling into my lap. Sitting there, little brother could feel the air blowing over me. He was happy sitting there.

It seemed to take forever, but I guess it wasn’t really that long. I did have a chance to think. That snowball fight had never happened in my original timeline. Dad and I had gone hunting but hadn’t found a thing. Mom had stayed inside while my brothers had played for a while, but had gone inside way before, we’d returned.

We mostly just watched it snow and not much else. Nothing like was happening right now. Darryl pretended he was driving a race car to the roar of the hair dryer as I leaned him left and right.

Mom was smiling at us as she checked to see if my hair was dry yet. Dad if you didn’t know him might seem disapproving. I think it was more like he was holding his tongue so to speak. If he officially noticed then he would have to do something, but since Mom was handling this, he was off the hook.

I couldn’t miss how he was looking at Mom too. She was more alive and involved right now then she’d been in my memories. Yes, she was happier. I think seeing her happy made up a lot for whatever discomfort he felt over my situation. He was above all a practical man.

Adam was probably the most confused at this change of fortune. The middle son, he was used to getting his way. He was always more aggressive than me, and adept at playing our parents. Things had changed and he didn’t like it.

I didn’t know if I the changes I was making to the future was for the best. I hoped and prayed that they were. So many things to worry about: My parent’s health; staying true to myself; keeping Darryl out of trouble, and more I’ve haven’t gotten around to think about yet.

However the question about Adam was a hard one. In my future he was happy being an unrepentant redneck. Hell, he was proud of it! On the other hand, I wasn’t about to let him make my life any harder than it needed to be.

The best philosophy was be true to myself and do my best to have a positive influence on those I love and all those whose lives I touch.

Seeing how hard younger brother was trying to emulate Dad gave me an idea. I rather liked it because it was definitely a more girlish way of handling Adam.

Then Mom bought me back down to Earth. “There! You’re dry enough I think.”

Removing the noisy machine, she began brushing and combing. “Here’s the deal. You let your hair get in a mess. I know you didn’t know how to take care of it, but it is pretty and looks good on you. I’m going to put you up in pigtails and ribbons. When you show me, you can take care of it yourself we’ll put in a single braid.”

“Mom!” I protested. “I’m thirteen not six.”

Even though I could see her I knew that tone. “No whining young lady! Right now you’re more like five than six. You’ve a lot to learn about long hair. Do you understand or do I need to go after my scissors?”

“I understand Mom.” I replied.

Adam was smirking failing to ignore our little drama. Dad’s mouth twitched, I think from amusement. He seemed to be still in ’let-Momma-handle-it mode. Little brother Darryl was content sit in my lap and watch Mom work on my hair.

I wasn’t really surprised by her deal. Both Mom and Dad were old fashioned. I half suspected they would’ve happily sent me to school in pigtails and pantaloons.

Mom didn’t take long. She did grow up in a larger family with six girls. Lots of practice I suspect doing braids. Guiding me to the mirror, I got my first look at my new do. The twin braids fell onto my shoulders. She’d tied them with green ribbons I assumed was leftover from Christmas.

Smiling I hugged her, “Thanks Mom. It looks good.”

I must’ve surprised her again. “What? No complaints about looking too childish?”

I let the joy I felt show. For me, this time and place were long gone. All I had were memories. To be here with those I loved, was a precious gift. Yes, even Adam, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he was dead set on being.

To share experiences like this with Mom was real life wish fulfillment. “I like it because no one has ever braided my hair before. You did say if I learned to take care of it you would help me with other styles.”

I nodded my head at the window. “From the way it’s snowing we’re going to be stuck home for awhile. No one else is going to see these,” I said lifting my braids.

Darryl was still curious so I picked him up. “No pulling,” I warned him.

He examined my hair. “Pretty!”

I giggled at the image that flashed before my eyes. Darryl the tough womanizing truck driver, becoming a hairdresser!

Mom popped his hand, “Don’t put her hair in your mouth!”

“Okay time for lunch. Let’s get the hairdryer put up and everything put back where it should be,” Mom ordered.

Still carrying Darryl, I said, “Come on. You can help.”

He laughed enjoying the game of pretending to help.

A short time later we were cooking. She’d decided to do a heavy noon meal since it was a real possibility we would lose power with all this snow. Fried chicken, rice, cornbread, and preserved green beans from our garden during the summer. For Dad since he didn’t like chicken there was pork chops.

Of course I was helping. It was a little rough in spots since I was still remembering where everything was kept, but nothing bad. Since Darryl had taken to following me, I helped him set the table.

Usually that was what the boy-me did with Adam helping. Younger brother was ignoring us obviously hoping he could skate. I knew better. Mom was a big believer in everyone doing their share. He was used to me to doing most the work, but if he didn’t help he wouldn't like what was coming.

Mom gave me an approving pat on the back. I didn’t miss the sharp glance she gave Adam. Nope he wasn’t going to care for it at all.

Soon enough everything was done. This time it was much harder to cut my portion. This was one of my favorite meals from my childhood. However, I stuck to my plan. Regardless it was delicious!

Poor Adam found himself washing dishes. He wasn't a happy camper. Taking a little pity, plus I did have a plan, I helped a little. Announcing I would help dry, I made it damn clear I wasn’t going to do his chore for him.

While he got started, I took the leftovers to our pets. The new falling snow had covered up all signs of our morning frolics. I made sure everything was comfy for Lady and the cats. Smoky however made it plain she was ready to come back inside. That was a problem since I didn’t think I could pull it off the way I was being watched by everyone. I was sure Adam was up to some kind of revenge.

Scratching her between her ears in the way I knew she loved I whispered, “Sorry little one. No can do right now. We’ll see what we can do tonight.”

Her unhappy “meow” told me what she thought about that idea. Sighing I took one last look at the ever growing snowdrifts. Some were nearly waist deep on me now. It was still good to get back inside. With all the baths, hair styling, and cooking it was toasty warm.

I helped younger brother with the dishes like I promised. Of course Mom was there to helping and making sure he did it right. Darryl did his best to help too. By the time we’d finish, he was ready for his nap. I decided it was a good time to kill several birds with one stone. “Mom, Darryl’s ready for nappy time. Why don’t we let him use my cot? I have to do some studying and can watch him.”

Dad gave Mom a look that was pure invitation.

With a little sparkle in her eyes she agreed, “Sure, that’ll be fine. We might lay down for a while too. But we don’t want any of you going outside. Doing your homework is a good idea.”

“Adam have you done yours yet?” She asked.

He shot me another dirty look, “No Mom, not yet.”

She commanded, “This will a good time to get started.”

Okay great! He’d another reason to plot against me. Forewarned is fore armed. “C'mon Darryl nap time.”

Sleepily he took my hand. Minutes later I was tucking him in. “Sweet dreams squirt.”

With a mutter he was asleep. “Nitie Lee.”

Silly me just smiled. His acceptance was a precious gift.

Alrighty then! Time to finally get to my reading. Pulling out the textbook sized volume. The cover proclaimed it the Career Day Program briefing manual.

Taking out my notes, I opened checked out the index. The first few chapters dealt with the canned speeches to school administrators and teachers. Following that were the ones Robert had marked for me. The ones for the students. The Introduction, the Career Dialogue, and lastly the Graduation.

There was also a Remedial section. Applying my will power I started at the beginning.

Pretty much like I thought this whole abortion of a program was a heavy handed attempt at social engineering out racism. The idiot genius responsible was a Dr. Rekcuz. The basic idea was if you had a chance to walk in the other fella’s shoes you’ll have a better appreciation of what the other poor sod has to go though.

I guess they couldn’t see a way of forcing adults to along with their loony plan, so they picked on the kids instead. I was right about the week long thing sorta. New students were changed on Friday, and given assignments to be done over the weekend. Then their chosen career choices were discussed taking into account their ’new’ appearance. Other possible jobs and career were then suggested, to broaden and open up the students to new horizons. ‘In theory,’ I added sarcastically in my notes.

Then came Graduation where hopefully you were changed back. I say hopefully because the ‘facilitator’ could recommend your re-transformation be delayed. That led me to the ‘remedial’ section. From what I gathered it was suppose to be an esteem builder for students who were really having negative self-image problems. Hell, there even was provision for permanent changes, but that required a hell of a lot of people signing off on it. Starting with the parent’s permission and an entire host of doctors and psychologists which had to give their okay.

Given Ms. Witch’s attitude I couldn’t see that happening to my benefit. What surprised me was who initiated the program, President Robert F. Kennedy. Okay, another big change to this timeline.

That got jotted down as another area of research. Thinking about it, I hadn’t seen anything about Vietnam on the news. I remembered that at times there was nothing but that on the evening news when I was growing up. Another note for me. Make damn sure I saw the news tonight.

On to the next part of this book. The greater majority was nothing more criteria for selecting which students got changed into what. I didn’t want to see the committee from hell that came up with this. Some parts were written by radical feminists, and others by radical liberals. Every group that felt they had an ax to grind wanted to be represented.

About the only good thing about this ‘program’ was it got points for trying. At least it acknowledged the problem, but this thing was a royal mess. I think it made things worse instead of better.

How in the world did sending the message that it was your race and appearance that was the problem, help empower the downtrodden to improve themselves? Where was the hope, tolerance and understanding in any of this?

The only good news in this ‘manual’ was this was only a test in five states with the lowest education rates in the country. There would be a period of evaluation to see if it was worthwhile to expand it nationwide. Thank Gawd for small favors! Judging from the National Guard troops this was very unpopular. Time to jot down another note about how to derail this damn thing. Maybe writing our Senator, Representative, the President, hell, somebody had to be able to see this was traumatizing everyone rather than helping.

I stopped putting down my pen. Okay almost everyone. For the small percentage like me who were TG this was a miracle. I sighed. It wasn’t worth upsetting and frightening entire schools full of kids to help only a few. For that matter, I didn’t know for sure if other TG kids had really been helped or not.

Shaking my head I watched my little brother sleep.

This thing had to be stopped. Maybe some other way could be found to help all my brothers and sisters of the heart who shared gender difficulties. Once again tolerance and compassion was the keys to success. The important element was the technology was out there. Here the entire hormone, and surgery procedures were replaced with something much better. It was society that hadn’t caught up yet.

I hit the part describing the technical aspects. The Medical Scanner was invented by the Howard Hughes Medical Institution. That was it. No information about how it did what it did. Just nothing, except that it finds and cures diseases as well as injuries.

During my transformation, Robert the technician mentioned something about the changes selected for me would engage the safeties. That was covered in some detail. The Med Scanner could change anyone into just about anyone else. It would not induce diseases or cause injuries. In some cases, however, even healthy alterations were rejected. The book suggested that it was because those would cause psychological harm.

You had to wonder when the instruction book of all things didn’t know for sure. I still believed the thing didn’t come from anywhere around here. More and more it sounded like matter transmutation. The science for that was so advanced it might as well be magic.

It was cool I’d been right about kids coming out of the Career Day program healthier than when they went in, despite the trauma. Okay maybe not that bad since most didn’t trip those mysterious safeties, but getting back to my point, any medical problems they had got cured.

To add to that, their medical information got fed into a system that was available to any med-scanner. Another interesting datum was that name badge of mine. It was coded to display the name of the patient no matter what form they were in. This was to assure parents they were getting their kid back and not someone elses.

I put the book down. Digging in my book bag, I found my badge. It read ‘Ernie.’ Looking down at Darryl I tried an experiment. In my world, little brother was delivered by C-section. He might be in their system.

Placing the badge on his expose arm sticking out of the cover, sure ‘nuff it changed! It now read, ‘Darryl.’ Picking it up, the name change back to mine. I examined it, but it looked like a plain metal badge with a pin on the back. No battery or display, I could find. The black lettering simply changed depending on who was holding it. This was beyond what 21st century science could do. I shook my head. What a mystery!

The forensic people must love these things, instant DNA testing. However I could really see a problem on the horizon. With the way these med-scanner things did extreme makeovers, if the bad guys ever broke the database, that’d be an unholy mess. I sighed, that was a worry for another time.

I was little brain fried at this point well into information overload. Being careful I hid my notes. Afterwards I flipped though the book I found an useful appendix. Since, the machine did do sex changes, there was a nice simplified section on puberty.

Turning to the part on females, I learned some useful facts. My body was about a year into Thelarche. There was approximately another year till my breast development finished and I could expect Menarche, my first period. That explained my sensitive nipples and other symptoms. Gee, thanks Mom. I was wearing this damn uncomfortable pad for nothing. However, I breathed out heavily closing my eyes. No, it did have a purpose. It was convincing Mom that I was very serious about this. It would stay.

Then I got that feeling that something was up. It didn’t take me long to find the cause. There at the door leading to his room, stood Adam. His scowl meant he wanted trouble.

Listening, I hadn’t heard any hmmm… noises from Mom and Dad’s room for a few minutes which meant, they were resting or getting ready for round two. I’m sure in any case they wouldn’t care for an interruption.

Darryl was still napping and probably wouldn’t care for one either. Okay time to try diplomacy.

“Hey Adam,” I greeted. “You finish your homework? There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

He got a crafty look. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

I inclined my head at our little brother. “Why don’t we go to your room? That way we won’t wake up Darryl.”

Adam agreed too quickly. “Sure thing.”

I slipped on my sweater. It was still chilly in there.

Shutting the door behind us I saw him tense up to try something.

“How would you like to make some money?” I asked him.

Adam stopped taken aback. He wasn’t expecting that. Money was in short supply in our family and opportunities for more even shorter.

However he might be the middle brother from hell, Adam wasn’t slow. “Where would you get money?”

I smiled again. “I asked if you wanted to make money. Not for me to give it to you. Will you listen?”

His greed overcame his desire for petty revenge. “Okay. What do I have to do?”

I spread my hands. “Alright, first lets talk about what was going to happen when I walked in. You would’ve done something to make me mad. I then would chase you as you ran to Mom and Dad for protection. You would’ve gotten your chance to hit me, and you would’ve gotten me in trouble with our parents, right?” I asked.

Adam’s face turned sour, but he didn’t answer. Amazing how looking back on all the childish crap seems thought the eyes of someone nearly 50.

I continued. “You still forgot something. I’m a girl now. The rules are different for me. I can still get in trouble if I chase you but I don’t have to now. Before I was expected to just take it as a boy, but not now. We’re too close in age for you to get away with hitting me. Now I can run to Mom and Dad and you’ll get in trouble. I expect Dad said something about this to you this morning didn’t he? That‘s why you decided against trying to beat me up and settled for your old game isn‘t it?”

Unwilling he nodded. “Yeah he did.” But he kept quiet about the rest.

Then his eyes turned shifty. “But you’re still a girl. Dad and I went out hunting this morning and you didn’t!”

Bouncing excitedly on my toes, I went, “Exactly!”

Adam was stunned. “Huh?” He asked so very intelligently.

“Let’s face it okay? I never did the boy thing very well. I did my best to fake it, but that wasn’t very good. Remember how you caught me in Mom’s clothes last year? Now, I really am a girl. I like spending time with Mom and doing stuff with her. I don’t have a problem with watching Darryl or all the other things you hate.”

Shock beyond belief Adam’s mouth hanged open. “You really are a sissy.”

“Nope! Not as long as I’m the real thing. That’s why I want to stay this way and if you’re smart you’ll help.” I said making my pitch.

Oh, crafty eyes was back! “Why should I?” He asked slyly, clearly wanting to know what was in it for him.

Still smiling and bouncing I said, “Hunting, and all the other things Dad tried to get me interested in. As long as I’m like this guess who he’s going to want to go with him instead of me?”

Figuring it out, Adam replied, “Me?”

“Yes, you,” I grinned. “Remember all those extra chores he’s always offering me a little bonus allowance to do? Who is he going to ask now? You will have to work for it, but it will be an opportunity you didn‘t have before.”

Then I added the hook. “As long as I stay a girl.”

What I didn’t say was if I stayed this way I would need a lot of new clothes. My one reservation about this was I knew how expensive outfitting a girl could be. My experience in cross-dressing taught me that much. Adding to the back end of those costs, my castoffs couldn’t be reused by my brothers like they were now. I doubted he was wearing anything that didn’t use to be mine with the exception of his tighty-whities.

Because at least Adam’s clothes would be new along with mine, there would be much less of that ‘bonus’ money for Dad to spread around. On the other hand he did mention some sort of compensation from Uncle Sam. Something else for me to go looking for information about.

He got it, repeating, “As long as you stay a girl. So you’ll spend more time with Mom, and I get to have Dad to myself?”

I shook my head. “You know they’re not that way. She’ll still spend time with you. Dad will want to do the same with me. However, you will, I think, get more time with him than I. Mom has lots to teach me like she did today with my hair.” I said touching one of my green ribbon pig tails.

Adam gave me the calculating eye. “So what do I need to do make sure you stay a girl?”

Got cha’ I grinned, “Easy really. Stop this silly competing with me over everything. No need to anymore with me being like this. No fighting over who gets to do what.

“That’ll help Mom and Dad see that my being like this is an advantage to the family. You know like helping with the cleaning and stuff like watching Darryl.” I explained.

He muttered, “I don’t like doing the dishes.”

I gave him a hard stare. “You know Mom wants everyone to help with meals. If you don’t want to do dishes you’ll have to do something else like set the table. If you do that it’ll have to be by yourself, since I’m helping more with the cooking. Assuming that happens, I’ll try to do the dishes.

“I can’t guarantee that Mom will buy that. You’ll probably have to at least clear off the table, but that should keep you from doing the dishes. Deal?” I asked.

Adam stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

Darryl’s laughing from my room and Mom’s voice alerted us that everyone was awake.

I wasn’t sure how long our truce would last, but I was going to enjoy it while it lasted! Gawd I loved being me!

Innocence Lost And Love Gained

Steve B — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 15:24:24 -0500

As I look back over my life, I have loved many different women but of all I have to admit that my childhood sweetheart Becky will always be the one that shines the brightest in my heart. To understand why I must go back in time to my childhood so long ago and explain.

At the tender age of eleven I was as innocent protected child. My Mother watched over me like a hawk. One day at school things changed though, as my innocence was soon lost. There were four guys at my elementary school that were typical bullies. They were constantly challenging each other and fighting with other guys. They lived for it. John was big for his age and was one of the bullies. I happened by while he was attacking a guy my size and two heads shorter than him. I was keeping my distance when I heard him say "Fuck you!!" "I am going to tear your head off, brat." He proceeded to bust the poor guy in the nose. The guy's nose bled badly as he ran off. John high fived a couple of his gang who followed him around to keep from becoming one of his victim's. I had a small hearing problem so I thought John had said "Thuck you."

A Flat Iron

Steve B — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 17:03:05 -0500

My story begins on spring day just after my 30th birthday. I learned when I was still a teenager that I was transvestite and had long since come to except it. I also new that I never intended to leave home cross-dressed. I was way too much of a coward to go out in public, not that I couldn't pass for a woman. I had always watched my weight and kept my hair long. I couldn't get into wigs, I wanted to be more real, My legs were ok and I kept my body hair shaved. I even used moisturizer on my face and body lotion to look a little softer. I thinned my brows a little and used a little peroxide to lighten them so I could redo them with a eyebrow pencil. Nothing to give me away though, no one knew about my girlie secret.

My Own Lies kept Me From Seeing The Real Truth

Steve B — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 05:13:41 -0500

"What was I doing?" I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror. "What have I done?" It was as if I had woke up from a dream where I had no control over what had occurred in the dream and then realized it was not a dream at all. I am a man or at least I was at one point. I sat down on the bed and began to go back through my life to try to find something to hold on to before I went out of my mind.

I don't remember when I first became attracted to girls clothes but around 8 years of age I remember sneaking into my mothers room while she was gone and finding anything I could try on. I would be very careful to put everything back exactly as I found it wright down to to the creases. I had a huge overwhelming fear of being caught. However, a few times I was caught. My cousin Kathy was baby sitting me a lot during the summer and she caught me wearing something. She didn't make a big deal out of it, thinking I was just playing, but told me I was not to be messing around in mother's room. I stayed away that summer
out of fear.

Then at age 13, I meet a girl in the apartments we moved to. My Mother and I were alone now due her divorcing my Father. Her name was Tracy and she was a lot of fun. We became close friends. One day she had invited a couple of other girls over and things took a unexpected twist. They like most girls started playing with make-up, clothes, and wigs. I looked on secretly wanting to join in but had every intention of protecting my manhood. Then Tracy pulled a fast one. She told the other girls that they should all practice on me. I objected but not enough to stop them knowing full well that was exactly what I wanted. I was soon wearing a wig, make-up, and a dress. I was thrilled inside. They laughed and I had fun. I was really thin and small framed so I am sure I looked like a girl when they were finished. When the other two girls left I was sad because It was time for me to return to my own clothes.

We were such close friends that I let down my guard and I asked Tracy as casually as I could "could I borrow the wig and one outfit to show my mom? as a joke?" knowing inside that there was no way I was going to ever show my mom and it was no joke. She said "sure". I used a bag so no one knew what I was carrying and quickly went home before my mother got home from work. I promptly hid the clothes and for a few days I was able to dress up anytime I was alone. Then I made a idiot mistake and changed my hiding place to the clothes hamper in my room. It was my job to empty it each week, so I felt safe. Next thing I knew My mother had found the wig and the outfit. By that time it was the weekend and she had invited Jack over. They were dating. She has always been a drama queen and when I heard her call me into the living room I knew I was in trouble.

To my horror, she was holding the wig and outfit. Jack was sitting on the sofa. I had to think fast but I was brain dead. I started by telling her the truth "those belong to Tracy my girlfriend" "She let me borrow them" not realizing the implication. Mother immediately threw a fit, "you've been wearing these?" I replied "only in fun" She got more upset and sent me to my room. The shame and fear welled up inside me to the point that I could barely stand it. Then She called me back and said "I don't know what I have done to deserve this?" she was in tears "If you are really a queer I will have to take you to a doctor for counseling."

That was the breaking point, I broke down and cried. I panicked and resorted to a lie. I told her what she wanted to hear to escape. "No, I said, I lied to you, I'm sorry, Tracy left those here by mistake." She calmed down and began lecturing me about letting anyone in the apartment while she was gone. Then instead of letting me return the wig and outfit she told me she was going to return them herself and have a talk with Tracy's Mom. "Oh no!!, please don't mom." She said "you get to your room, your grounded." I prayed that I didn't get Tracy in trouble and I would not be found out. I thought to myself "would Tracy ever speak to me again?" I was not allowed to play with her after that and soon her and her mother moved away.

If only I had the courage to stand up to my Mother and held to the truth. The lie was the most damage of all, I knew I could hide and If I was caught I would just lie and make excuses. If I wasn't believed it didn't matter because no one wanted to call me on it. Nobody wanted to believe I was weird. The lie was only hurting myself. I split myself into. Inside I was feminine and outside I was masculine. I was ashamed of who I really was. My Mother would have got over it but I was too much of a coward to face the truth.

As I got a little taller and I was thrilled that some of my Mom's clothes were close to fitting me. Jack and her got married just before I started high school. There were no more episodes after the big blow up. My desire was still strong and once I bravely rode my bike up to a woman's store. I made up a lie about buying a special gift for my sister and purchased a pair of expensive pink satin panties trimmed in lace. The woman clerk must have known I lied when I told her I didn't know what size. I said my sister was the same size as me instead of giving her a size. She picked the size for me. She gift wrapped it anyway. She knew. I was just to ashamed to be the girl that needed panties.

I raced home on my bike, anticipating the thrill of wearing my own panties. When I tried my new panties on I was thrilled all over. I lay down in them. It didn't take long before I climaxed. I didn't have fantasies about girls even though I definitely was attracted to them but I didn't have fantasies about men either and was not attracted to them. My fantasies were about being feminine. Wearing panties was erotic for me, I stuck my manhood between my legs and held my legs together to make the panties look flat in front while I looked in the mirror. I wore them a lot even to school. Finally I graduated from school and went off to college for one year. I had a dorm room shared with another guy. So, there was no way to cross dress. I continued to masturbate and fantasize about feminizing myself.

I meet a another guy named Tony and we became buddies. Later after spending many weekends and evenings hanging together. I realized Tony was Gay. He was masculine and never made any advances towards me. I did not have a clue. When we first meet I noticed the women at college really thought he was attractive and my hope was that soon we might be double dating but of course that was not going to happen, he just wanted to hang with me. He thought I was straight. I never told him my secret. We were great friends, he really knew how to party. So much so that I soon had a grade point avg that was impossible to bring up. I flunked. I returned home a complete failure. I've never lived it down since, my Mother being the drama queen that she is.

Later, at 20 years of age I finally meet a woman. We dated, had intercourse for the first time, and she eventually moved in with me. A couple of years later I insisted we get married. From time to time I would use her clothes to give myself a extra thrill which was always more exciting than normal intercourse. Of course, I knew by then I was a transvestite, no denying it now. Being married however seemed to lesson the need a great deal. Eventually after 5 years of marriage she had an affair with a work mate and divorced me. She never knew about my hidden secret or if she did she never said a word.

My next marriage was even worse although I loved her she was an alcoholic and even after being told she would die within a couple of years she would not stop drinking. She wasn't home much and took most of her clothes with her. She ran around and stayed anywhere she could get alcohol. I refused to Divorce her no matter what my family and friends said. I got more desperate in my loneliness and slowly collected everything I needed to cross dress. I even went shopping at a dress store. Again I lied to the woman clerk and told her it was for my wife, same size as me of course. I lied to myself, She showed me a section of dresses that she said would fit. Like a woman I looked through them and several minutes later picked a couple of cute dresses. When I got home and tried them on I got a special thrill. They were a perfect fit, The tops of each dress were small perfect for a woman with no or small breasts. The Clerk knew they were for me. It was if I could get help from any woman as long as I was willing to make up some lie. I realized now the women were protecting my pride and going along with my lie. She had helped me feminize myself!!

I had special ordered a wig. I bought a drawer full of very feminine panties. I had a bra, breast forms, a slip and hose. I bought the old fashioned wire curlers and a set of hot curlers so I could roll my hair wet or dry. I let it grow longer than I had ever had my hair before but still it was no where close to being passable. I could get close by using the curlers but only on top and the sides. The back was too short. While at the hair stylist one day a saw a guy come in with wavy hair. I jumped on the opportunity to ask if she could make my hair wavy like his. Of course Becky said "no problem, let me set you an appointment." I said "can't we just do it now?" "Oh no", she said "it takes a couple of hours." She instructed me to go home and condition my hair then until the appointment just wash it without using any chemicals.

I was scared the day of my appointment and I was glad to see there was very few customers. Becky was there but surprised me when she said John is the one who would give me the permanent. "A permanent?" I gasped, "I just want a wave", She smiled "Well silly, that is how it's done" "It won't be a full perm, It will be wavy just like you wanted" "But, we still have to use permanent and set your hair". I looked like a dear in the headlights. I couldn't back out and besides deep inside I had always wanted my hair curled. I watched when I could but still It was not a big turn on because a guy was doing my hair and he also turned me away from the mirror. However, I did get to set under the dryer like a woman. Then came the next shocker. Becky told me when I payed her that I was not allowed to wash my hair and restyle it for 3 days. "your hair will look curly until you wash it, in fact you should reach up and scrunch your curls with your hands when you get the chance." "Oh, thanks." I said still in shock.

At home I couldn't wait to dress up with my new permanent wave. I knew from practice how to put make-up on. I would have to stop and relieve myself by masturbating several times before I would finally be fully dressed and feminized. I tried to keep dressed up and just lounge around but I was uncomfortable and uneasy. Once I had climaxed a few times It seemed pointless to stay dressed up. My wife finally died about the same time they said she would if she didn't stop drinking. I gave all her clothes to her daughter from a earlier marriage. I already had my own clothes anyway. I was heartbroken and lonely but due to her being gone a lot I was not hurting as much as I would have been.

I also had special ordered a white see-through baby doll with matching panties. It had a inch of ruffled lace on the hem and lace shoulder straps. Small pink bows were all over it and there was a wrap to match it. I loved it. If I bent over my panties trimmed in lace and pink bows would show. Sometimes I would use my wig and sometimes I would set my hair. I always wore my baby doll while I put make up on and rolled my hair. I wanted badly to go further with feminizing myself but I had no encouragement and I was to much of a coward. I was tormented. I needed help. Soon I decided counseling would turn me back from my obsession, I was wrong. I asked for a female counselor. She immediately let me know she was a lesbian and that she understood totally what I was going through. This is where the Dream I spoke of started. I told her everything.

At first she just sat and listened. After several visits she explained to me that there was no cure. She went on to say "You are not just a transvestite, Eric. From listening and studying your case I know now that you are what is called a transsexual." "You won't be satisfied until you are a complete woman." I was shocked but it did explain why I wanted to go further and further with looking feminine. "Oh God, are you sure?" "Yes I am" she replied. "But, just to be safe we will take it slow and you can stop anytime you want." "I want you to feminize yourself beyond what you have been." "You have got to overcome your fears and shame so you can make the right choice." "You will have to let me decide what to do next until then." "You will need someone to help you." "I know you don't know anyone yourself because you have been hiding your true gender, so I am going to give your number to a woman who can help you." "You're job is to let go and put her in charge" "Well Ok, I said. I can stop anytime I want?" "Not at first" she said. "You have to give it a little time then we'll talk some more." "I am prescribing some medications for you to help you feminize yourself." "In fact, before you leave today I will give you a couple of shots to get you started." "Come back in a month for your next visit." "If you don't have anymore questions? our time is up today." "The nurse will administer the shots in the next room and here is your prescription to fill at the store." "Thanks Doctor Jackson."

As I left after receiving two shots in the rear, I looked at the prescription and realized the two medications were Premarin and Progesterone. Female hormones!! I felt a warm sensation in my stomach when I realized I had just been feminized. I was scared but thrilled again. When I got home I put on my baby doll and panties and relieved myself. Shortly after I got a phone call. A woman said "is this Eric?" I said "yes" she replied "I am Susan, Dr Jackson asked me to call you." "Oh yes,nice to meet you." she continued "I would like to come by this evening, so we can talk." I said "Great, I'm looking forward to seeing you." She then asked me "what are you wearing wright now? and don't lie to me." I timidly replied "a baby doll gown and panties." She said "Good, don't change that will be perfect." "I want us to be girlfriends and I want you to get used to being feminine when were together." She said "I am bi-sexual so don't be embarrassed."

Susan arrived a few minutes later. She was very cute and we were the same height and weight. 5'6'' 140lbs aprox. She had shoulder length hair. She was wearing a blouse and skirt. She immediately gave me a hug. She started "Let me look at you" "Oh, yes" she said you will make a beautiful girl." "Thanks." "I am going to call you Erica, if you don't mind, it's much more feminine." "ok, yea" "Erica, I used to work at a salon so lucky for you I can help you feminize yourself wright here at home." "Oh, thanks Susan." "Erica, Dr Jackson has told me everything and I mean everything so I know that your girlie and feminine and I also know about your fears." "What I want you to do is always tell me what you really want." "After all Erica,it will just be me and you until your ready to leave home and face who really are." "I want you to be as sissy and feminine as you would be if you had been raised up a girl in dresses." "Let me see your feminine side, let your fantasies come true." "That's our goal." "OK." "Oh, Susan I'm in love with you already." She then told me that it would best if she was my roommate so she could help me 24/7. That meant I had to dress as a woman anytime I wasn't leaving to go somewhere.

The next morning she reminded me to take my hormones. I was off on vacation for two weeks so things got going pretty fast. She left and returned with more of her clothes and a lot of beauty items. "Erica, you will feel more feminine if you shave your legs and underarms, here is some hair remover cream and some pink razors I got for you." I went into the bathroom and found the tub full of bubble bath waiting. I slipped in and it was heavenly. I knew exactly what to do. I had seen both my wives shave many times and always wanted to try it. I raised one leg up and put on the cream, slowly I ran the pink razor from my ankle to my upper thigh repeating then switched legs...uooo, I felt feminine. I raised each arm and shaved my pits. "Erica, for now on keep yours legs and underarms shaved and use the shampoo and conditioner that I'm using." "I brought you a couple of more baby dolls with panties so you will have more nighties to wear."

I dried and tried on one my new nighties. I had a rock hard on as usual and laid down just long enough to relieve myself. It was erotic. After a moment Susan came in and asked me about my nightie. I remembered what she said about letting go. "I love it, It so cute, I feel high in it." "Susan said "Oh, You are a sissy girl aren't you." I replied "yes, I have never had anyone I could admit it to." "Well, that has changed now, cutie. Since were both girlfriends do you want me to help with your hair?" "Yes, but it's too short really" I replied." Susan smiled "I thought you might say that" "I have just the thing, you are going to love this. This will take most of the day. First I need to put more curl in your hair. Then I will give you a more feminine blond color." "Come in here to the sink and I will wash your hair." "Now if you're not sure this is what you want just say so and we will slow down". My eyes were lite up like Christmas lights on a tree.

She brought out a box of permanent curling rods with built in clips. I could feel an erection coming on. She combed through my hair and sectioned it off. I was celebrating inside. I almost wanted to stand and jump up an down like a excited school girl and giggle. This time I was able to watch as each rod was rolled down and clipped. She got the top and back done and noticed I had a hard on. She said "You sissy, you are really enjoying this." I replied, "yes, this is wonderful, I'm sorry but I have to relieve myself, I can't resist it." "Erica, don't move let me help." A moment later I was in heaven. As I set back in my chair she pulled down my panties. I thought I would pass out when she started sucking me off. I had just about climaxed when she took my penis out of her mouth. She held out the palm of one hand and then pumped with the other. I climaxed and shot cum into her cupped palm. After she emptied me she cupped her hands and told me to help her lick it up. I was so turned on I immediately started licking and swallowing while she did the same. We both ended up with cum on our checks. She washed her hands and returned with a wet towel for me. I reached down and pulled my panties back up. She continued rolling my hair. I was in love.

I smelled the ammonia as the permanent cream was put on. At the right time she rinsed and put in the deactivater. Then after awhile she rinsed again. Next she used the hair color with conditioner. Returning to the chair she set my hair in curlers. She could see the excitement in my eyes. While waiting for my hair to dry she asked me If wanted my bangs cut. Then told me my eyebrows were really bad and we had to do something with them. I told her yes please what ever she thought I needed to go ahead, I trusted her opinion. The next thing I knew she had cut bangs and waxed my eyebrows, arching them both. Still in curlers I could see in the mirror my face was lot more feminine. After my hair dried she took out my curlers. This time I had a full permanent. "What do you think" she said. I let go. "Oh, I can't believe it, it's so sissy, I love the curls, thank you." Susan replied, "my pleasure, you deserve it." I reached up and patted my curls. "Next I am going to put in hair extensions that are the same color and will reach just below your shoulders" I swallowed, "you mean I will have long hair like yours?" Susan replied, "yes cutie, and it will be curly too since we just curled your hair."

About three hours later, I had long spiral curls that softly lay on my shoulders. I couldn't believe it. It was a dream come true. I shook my hair expecting the extensions to fall out. My hair was also a feminine blond color, soft and pretty. I let go again, "It's darling" "I could almost pass for a woman now!!" Susan smiled and laughed, "well not just yet but you will." "Lets see what you look like with your make-up on, Erica." "Oh, my, another hard on girl." She reached down with her soft hand and rubbed me gently. She saw me weaken and start to climax. She told me to cup my hands and jacked me off. The cum shot into my cupped hands. We both licked it up out of my hands and occasionally licked tongs.Then this time we licked our checks with each others tongs. Susan watched me while I showed off how easy it was for me to put make-up on. She told me what colors to use and told me when I was over doing it. Susan told me that everyday for now on I was to put my face on every morning and take it off before bed. She said we both would do our own. She gave me some special cream she said that would help moisturize my face.

After we finished moisturizing, I watched while she pined her hair up for bed. Then in turn I did mine. She changed into her own baby doll and panties. There was only one bedroom so we both slept together. I was shocked when I still got yet another hard on. She said since we were girlfriends she wanted me to lick her clit like a woman. First, I got on my knees between her legs and she laid back while I licked her clit then we 69'ed and both climaxed. It was erotic. We slept together every night in our baby dolls and lace panties. For the next week I did my face every morning and fully dressed in different outfits. One day it was a cute dress, then a blouse and skirt, then once we both wore one piece bathing suits. In the morning I took my pills and once dressed she had me put on high heels to teach me how to walk like a woman. She made sure I sat like a woman and held my elbows in. I folded my hands and crossed my legs. She gave me a manicure and pedicure just before she taught me how to paint my nails.

The second week, started with another surprise. Susan said after breakfast "Darling we need to pierce your ears and then I think you are ready to pass as a woman, now." "You have learned so fast, you're a natural. After I pierce your ears, we are going shopping." The fear griped me just like it had anytime I thought about leaving home dressed up. "Oh Susan, are you sure, what if someone sees me?" Susan looked at me. "Darling it is all in your head you don't look like a man, you look like a woman. If someone sees you they will know you are exactly what you are, a woman." "Get over it, men don't wear dresses and curl their hair." "They don't wear make-up or carry purses." "and they sure don't wear high heels, silly girl." I went into the bedroom and looked in mirror after she pierced my ears. I was wearing a darling pair of gold ear rings. Which brings us to the end of the dream that I had awoken from. But the Dream was real, I couldn't deny what she said. I wasn't a man, I was a woman. I finally let go. I was no longer afraid. I picked up my purse and was ready. Susan and I went shopping and had a great time. The rest of week I relaxed, the feeling of uneasiness was gone, I was comfortable in my female clothes. I could sit with Susan and just watch TV and it felt perfectly natural now.

When vacation ended I let the fear grip me again. I whined to Susan "What am I going to do now? What will everyone think at work? I will probably be laughed at and fired." Susan replied "you are such a sissy, tell them the truth, be proud you're a woman" "you are not a little girl any more, afraid of your mother, are you?" So what if they do say something hateful or try to hurt you. They can't spank you. They can't make you ashamed if you're not. Swallow all all that stupid male pride of yours, you are not a man anyway." "You don't need any male pride." "Use those balls of yours while you still have them." Susan was wright again, I have to let go and face it. Luckily I worked as a Store clerk at a large Department Store. It wasn't the first time someone switched genders at the store. The Manager to my surprise was not shocked at all and saw no reason why I couldn't continue with my job. She said "In fact I think customers prefer female clerks anyway." "You are a pretty woman." I was thrilled all over, I felt acceptance. I was a woman.

My next visit to Dr Jackson, I was of course fully dressed. She almost didn't recognize me. She was amazed at how quickly I had transitioned. My confidence and graceful moves were feminine. She asked me "Erica, how do you feel now, are you happy with your new life?" I replied "Oh yes, its wonderful." "Susan has helped me so much." Dr Jackson said "Soon, your skin will soften. Your breasts will bulb and grow. Your buttock and hips will broaden." "Is that what you want?" I replied, "Oh yes, my skin is already getting soft and I can't wait for my breasts to grow. I just want to thank you. You have made me a happy woman." Dr Jackson smiled and reminded me to get my shots on the way out. I bent over pulled down my panties, held up my skirt and was thrilled as I felt the injections.

After a few months of hormones I was thrilled to wake up with small breasts one morning. Soon though I could no longer get it up any more, by then I didn't care, I was looking forward to completely feminizing myself and having it done. I didn't want to wait even a year. After six months I traveled overseas and had a vaginoplasty done. I woke up a new woman completely feminized. Susan was waiting for my return and was very happy. I was shocked and thrilled yet again when the doctor gave me a complete set of dildos. She explained that for at least 6 more months I needed to use these three times a day to allow my new vagina to dilate. That was no problem, Susan strapped on a dildo and penetrated me morning, evening, and at bedtime. It is erotic. I don't cross dress anymore. I guess there is a cure after all. We still sleep in our baby dolls and panties but then again that is what girls are suppose to sleep in. I love getting my hair curled and still hurry home so I can use my dildo. The Real Truth is that I am a Woman. Don't be afraid, Just let go.

Makeup Fairy

grover — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 10:41:19 -0500

Disclaimer: This is fiction. All the characters and events portrayed here are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely accidental and unintentional. I as the author reserves all rights. A big thanks goes out to Cathy who proofed and generally made this readable. Any remaining errors, or mistakes are mine! Enjoy

The Makeup Fairy

By
Grover

Gail sighed forlornly at the imperfect image reflected in her mirror. As much as she wanted to deny it, she was looking at herself. It had taken her forever and a day to accept that, regardless of how the rest of the world saw her, she was a woman. Staring at her poorly done makeup on that all too masculine, face, she stuck out her tongue at it in pure frustration.

It would so much easier, if she could just pretend to be the lumbering guy everyone else saw. However, her inner girl had other ideas. After years of broken relationships, lost jobs, and depression, it was pretty clear that only insanity lay in that direction. It had taken years of therapy, anti-depressants, and yet more therapy, to get her to admit the nature of her problem.

Gail sighed again, making another face at herself. Her daddy always said you had to work with what you had. That made her smile, because she very much doubted her practical had anything like this in mind.

Her mom was always the strong one, bound and determined to withstand whatever life threw at her, no matter what. Together, her parents had made a good couple, even if they hadn’t a clue on how to deal with her peculiarity. She still missed them so much, despite the years that had passed since the accident that had taken them from her.

Gail closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She would clean her face off and try yet again. First she decided to follow the advice of that song that had sustained her though many difficult times. She knew her voice left a lot to be desired, but music had always helped. As silly as it was, she sang, “Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens.”

Losing herself in happier times, she didn’t care who heard her, or what they thought. Lost in those childhood memories, Gail was barely aware of a light tingling upon her face, bug!

Her eyes snapped open, looking wildly for the creepy crawlie, but instead, her mouth fell open in utter amazement.

There, in the mirror, was an attractive woman with her makeup done superbly. She could barely tell that she was wearing any makeup at all. The colors and shades were skillfully blended to hide her masculine features.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied movement by the drapes that she had carefully pulled shut, to make certain of her privacy. Racked by indecision, she didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to know, to see, who had done such a wonderful job, while the other simply wanted more.

Her entire life, Gail wanted to believe in the supernatural and the paranormal. If miracles were real, then just maybe this gross male body of hers wasn’t the prison it had always seemed.

After the fire left her with no place to stay, her grandmother had taken her in. From another time and place, the eccentric old woman told her all kinds of fantastic tales and stories. For years, she used to leave out treats for the ‘little people’ and it only stopped after her death.

Gail had inherited the old place, but while she had always hoped and wished that the stories were true, she had never gone to the lengths her grandmother had.

Were the stories true? Had perhaps her singing, caused them to help her, like one of those old fairy tales about brownies, cobblers, elves and all the rest?

She had to suppress a giggle. The Lil’ Folk of legend weren’t known for being makeup artists!

There was one way to prove that theory. Keeping her eyes to herself, she went to her kitchen. Feeling silly, she poured some milk in a bowl and took it with her back to her bureau.

Sitting, she placed the bowl in front of her.

Calming herself, she said in her best feminine voice. “Thank you so much. You did a wonderful job. Could you help me with my nails and hair please? I would be most grateful.”

Feeling even more foolish, she closed her eyes again. Gail had her doubts that it would work again. She was unsure how much time passed, since she couldn’t see, but she was beginning to feel discouraged.

Suddenly her heart thumped as she felt that ‘tingle’ again. This time it was her hair, and it was like a light breeze was somehow blowing inside her room.

The ‘tingle’ stopped as her breath caught, but continued after she gently exhaled, relaxing. She seemed to remember that fairy creatures were very shy, and any attempt to see or catch them would be sure to chase them away.

With an act of will, she kept herself relaxed. It was happening, and sometimes you just had to trust. What must have been a fairly short time later, the ‘tingles’ ended.

Not wanting to spoil a good thing, Gail gave her unseen makeover artists a warning. “I think you’re finished now, so I’m going to open my eyes, Okay?”

Not getting a response, she dared a glance.

That woman in the mirror couldn’t be her! That hair was gorgeous! Much longer and fuller, the dark waves framed her face in just the right way. Both of her eyebrows, while not thin arches, were perfectly acceptable, and she hadn’t even felt any pain from plucking. When she touched her hair, to convince herself it was real, she stopped to stare at the beautiful ovals of her now manicured nails.

“Breathe honey, breathe,” she whispered in wonder. It was really her.

Gail blinked her long lashes, thinking furiously. The bowl of milk in front of her was drained dry. Making up her mind she said, aloud to her invisible benefactors, “Thank you so much! I’m going to leave pencil and paper here, so if you have any needs please let me know. A gift for a gift.”

“I’m going to my computer to see what else besides milk is good for you. Thank you again. I do hope we can do this again.”

A tug on her new locks proved that the sudden growth of hair was not only real, but all hers. No more male baldness for her.

A brilliant smile came to her lips. Magic was ‘real’! She didn’t have to struggle all alone with this any more. Gail had made some new friends.

***

Doctor Hanson, her therapist, was surprised when she arrived for her appointment, in all of her feminine glory. The Doctor had nothing, but compliments for Gail’s appearance, and remarked how much happier and more confident her patient was since their last visit. The shy, conflicted person, caught struggling against herself, had somehow blossomed.

When asked what had caused such a dramatic change, Gail just smiled, saying she had made some new friends with a talent for makeovers. She certainly couldn’t argue with the results. From her hair style, to the cute shoes her patient wore, it all seemed customized for her.

More than a little envious, Doctor Hanson had to ask, “Are they taking new customers?

Gail giggled. “Sorry Doctor, they don’t run a business and are really shy. It wasn’t because of money that they helped me. You could say they helped all because of a song…

The End

Note: The song lyrics is from “My Favorite Things” by Rodgers and Hammerstein.

Arresting Development -5- Humility

ariel — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 15:07:44 -0400

Arresting Development

5/ Humility

By Ariel Montine

ARE YOU SERIOUS?

Ron — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 01:45:03 -0400

ARE YOU SERIOUS?
BY RONNIE

I nervously sit in front of my mirror wearing my favorite dress applying my make-up examining my face for any flaws, I never would have thought that I would be wearing a dress and putting make-up on my face waiting for my boyfriend to go on a date one year ago. Let me explain how I ended up in front of my mirror wearing a dress.

One year ago I was your normal average guy, at least I thought I was until my father died suddenly and left mom and me trying to cope with our loss. I was 15 and a freshman just starting high school, I was not a macho guy by anyone’s standards I only weighed 130lbs and was 5’7’’ tall I had long brown hair and a high tenor voice, you might even call me a sissy; I know all the jocks did. I was never any good at sports and academic activities were not my favorite either. I enjoyed drama and music so I registered in drama and music classes and joined the drama club along with choir. With my size I was always called “fagot” or “queer” because I was in those clubs but to the people who knew me I was just me. My best friend was my neighbor Amanda we had been friends since we were little, her parents moved in when we were two and we have played together ever since then.

Something Feels Strange - 5

tiffq — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 09:12:11 -0500

Something Feels Strange…

Something Feels Strange…

By Tiffany B. Quinn

As we say good night, I notice that she is wearing a new necklace. I don't know why I hadn't noticed it earlier. I guess that I am not all that observant at times. Anyway the necklace looks disturbingly familiar. Hanging from a delicate gold chain around her neck is a gold colored charm in the shape of a running shoe.

As I look at it, she says “It reminds me of you.”

She winks at me before heading inside.

Chapter 5: Not Again!

A Shootist Disarmed

Arcie Emm — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 02:14:29 -0500

A Shootist Disarmed

by Arcie Emm

You may wish to see prior Shootist stories:

Thank you very much to Puddintane, Renee M, and Stanman for reviewing this concoction for me.

Chapter 1 - Ms. Dupensk

Bursting forth from Transition, the exploration ship detected a habitable planet, causing her pilot to begin dreaming about spending his discovery bonus. Drifting closer, as his ship’s sensors collected more data, those plans grew less ambitious. He determined that it held an abundance of minerals, yet few were rare and those were buried under deep seas. He had found a water planet, where the only livable space was islands, none of them large enough to hold a decent sized city. Bitter at his discovery’s apparent uselessness, particularly to himself, the pilot named the planet Pyrite, fool’s gold.

His judgement proved correct; few paid attention to his find. The main reaction coming from the clerk at the Interstellar Discovery and Charting Partnership while drafting the official chart entry, when he cursed the unimaginative predictability of exploration pilots and officially designated the planet Pyrite 23.

Its brief flirtation with civilization over, the planet returned to obscurity. The next period of forgetfulness passed in an eye-blink to the planet, but lasted over nine centuries for humanity. Not until another, more fortunate, exploration pilot found a nearby band of asteroids, dense in rare minerals, did Pyrite 23 find a purpose, at least to the mining companies intending to exploit the new find.

Recognizing how loneliness, danger, and the emptiness of space could prey on a miner’s thoughts, these companies operated ten day shifts before removing a miner for four days of R&R, which posed a problem for the frugal employers, where to send them. Transportation to nearby settled worlds seemed a reasonably priced option; however, it came with complete loss of control over the men. Instead of arriving for transport back to the asteroids, many ended up in jails, hospitals, or somewhere lost in drunken stupor. The second option involved contracting pleasure ships. This solved the control problem, but at greater expense. So whenever possible, they found a relatively close, uninhabited world, then built and operated their own facilities. Pyrite 23 fit those requirements perfectly.

Crews descended upon the planet, chose likely islands and built facilities. By the time any of the miners showed up, there was already a frontier port, complete with bars, dance halls, theatres, inns, restaurants, and brothels. Yet unlike most such ports, usually on planets that were empty due to inhospitable weather, beasts, pests, or foliage, Pyrite 23 did not require a protective dome. The temperate climate of the islands made the outside enjoyable, opening unusual opportunities for recreation and entertainment on what would otherwise have been an ordinary miner’s R&R haven.

These more wholesome activities kept the port from taking on the dingy and run down atmosphere so common amongst its kind. Soon people other than the miners started choosing Pyrite 23 as a place to visit. First came the management of the mining companies, and then those seeking adventure upon its seas.

Yet these advantages could not keep the planet going when the asteroid mining operations dried up. Pyrite 23 depended upon the operating funds from the mining companies, the money spent by the miners, and the fees paid by the few adventurous tourists. However, instead of allowing the planet to again fade into obscurity, an entertainment conglomerate purchased the entire operation. With free rein upon the planet, they built resorts and theme parks, often spanning multiple islands. Yet the massive casinos proved the biggest draw, turning the planet into a destination for the masses. And like that first pilot, most who broke free of Transition had dreams of fools gold.

Not all. For those who did not seek short-cuts to wealth, lucrative employment contracts existed, particularly for attractive women. Management recognized the temptation that the seeming availability of beautiful women offered to men, who hoped, though usually failed, to get lucky in more ways than one, even though they usually failed. Old school thinking perhaps, but nobody denied the profits. Thus the passengers aboard the Siren’s Cove Employee Transit Tram could cause a visitor from Darson to go into seizures, as he tried to decide at whom to look.

Even the more worldly would find it difficult not to gawk. So the casino minimized the gawking, here where nothing could be earned, by keeping tourists off the employee trams. As for male employees, most grew used to the feminine richness in which they lived, preferring to spend their commute like anybody else, anywhere else in the universe. This day, like most days, the tram’s passengers, male or female, engaged in sleep, reading, or quiet talk with seatmates. All except one, who sat upright, alone, and stared fiercely out the window at the passing seas.

Like many of the tram’s passengers, she required a second look. That look would show her older than first glance implied, but her beauty had a warmth to it, though somewhat cool at the moment. A frequent visitor or a fellow employee would think her a dealer, probably in one of the more expensive rooms, until she stood, showing her height, leanness, and grace, and then they would recognize her as a dancer, probably in one of the stage productions. At one time they would have been right. Nearly twenty years before, when Ellene Dupensk had first arrived on Pyrite, she’d danced as a chorus girl at Flickers, a small casino pulled down twelve years ago. From Flickers she had moved to larger casinos, until she’d reached Siren’s Cove, where they’d recognized talents of greater worth than those of a showgirl.

She provided a calming influence over her often high-strung colleagues, being a natural peace-maker, problem solver, and confidante. So despite never having had children of her own, they contracted to use her natural mothering instincts, first for the dancers but then, over the years, for all who worked at the casino.

Very much upper management now, she only rode the tram in order to allow employees to approach her with their problems, which was not happening on this particular day. Everyone saw the anger in her eyes and knew the cause behind it; the disagreement between her and the new head of marketing having served as recent grist for the rumour mills, a test of wills that everybody knew she’d lost. They also knew that today was the start of the new marketing gimmick dreamed up by the winner, and that Ms. Ellene rode along to judge its impact, harshly from all appearances.

Nobody would call her a prude, she had spent much of her time on stage wearing nothing more than a headdress, heels, and a smile. Nor did she complain about the costumes her girls wore at the casino, despite how little most covered. But both situations occurred under the watchful eye of casino security, not as the girls made their way to and from work, away from any real protection. She cared less that many of the girls wore similar things on their own, Siren‘s Cove‘s had no responsibility for those bad decisions. However, the casino did have responsibility for what she saw today as the tram crossed the chain of four islands housing the majority of the planet’s single women. Every time she spotted another example of what that smarmy pervert, Elston Dinwald, claimed would ‘showcase’ the beauty of their female employees, Ellene’s teeth clenched a little tighter. She admitted Dinwald and his staff had done a fine job of choosing candidates. Each girl wearing one of the new outfits numbered amongst the casino’s most beautiful, so none of them needed the garish styling of a tasteless pimp to showcase their beauty.

The new outfits were hideous.

Dinwald had started on the right track, the rompers and mini-dresses were the same as those worn by the waitresses in the casino’s premier nightclub, The Pearl. They hugged curves and she had always liked them, particularly their colour, a deep midnight blue . If they had stopped there, she would have dismissed most of her fears. Instead, the new ‘genius’ decided to make them sexier by cutting away additional material to show more skin. Even worse, they’d garishly emblazoned ‘Siren’s Cove’ in large, glittery silver lettering across the back of each girl. They embarrassed her, making her wonder how much of a bonus they’d had to pay to convince the girls to wear such eyesores.

So ridiculous were the outfits she found herself questioning if she had blown everything out of proportion, since the new outfits were so over-the-top as to minimize their actual allure. Such thoughts were brushed aside as they pulled into the next station and she spotted the dark haired girl waiting to board in a too-tight romper, complete with a belly button-exposing neckline and a bottom that gave only a half-assed effort at coverage.

Protests to the contrary, mothers often feel more protective of one child over the others and Ellene wasn’t any different from most. As much as she hated what the seasoned employees were wearing today, she had some confidence that most of her girls could handle the additional burden of their outfits. She felt much less confident about the pretty, little miss on the platform, proudly perched atop high-heeled boots like some junior member of the streetwalker sisterhood. Despite a personal history that had shocked Ellene to read, the child had the survival instincts of a lemming, seeming always willing to follow someone over a cliff.

Instead of the scowl she had directed at the previous bonus seekers, Ellene gestured for the girl to come towards her. Proving herself at least somewhat aware of the need for self-preservation, the girl hesitantly approached, nervously, saying, “Hello Ms. Dupensk, you wished to see me?”

“Hello, Sascha, won’t you take a seat?”

“Umm...okay. Thank you?”

“Tell me about your new outfit, it’s not your normal style.”

Glancing quickly downwards, as if she had forgotten what she wore, Sascha said, “Oh, it’s not, but Mr. Dinwald offered me a bonus to wear it on my way to work. To advertise for the Cove.”

“Sascha, you know, just because Mr. Dinwald asks you to do something, doesn’t mean you have to do it.”

“Yeeeah, I guess. Is he going to ask me to do something that you don’t want me to do? I heard that the two of you were having a disagreement about something.”

Reminding herself that they had not hired Sascha for her brains, Ellene said, “We were disagreeing about the outfits, I do not think they are completely appropriate for you and the others to wear.”

“Oh? Oh! Why not?”

“Do you think they’re appropriate?”

“Don’t tell Mr. Dinwald I said this, but they’re kind of tacky. I like the Pearl’s version better. They’re nice”

“Very true, and these are also rather skimpy.”

Giggling, Sascha replied, “Not when you compare it to some of my work costumes.”

“Well yes, but casino security makes sure that nobody bothers you when you are wearing those.”

“Nobody bothered me today, Ms. Dupensk.”

“You can’t be too careful, Sascha. So many visitors come from off planet who we are unable to screen. We can’t keep out the scum. And worse, some of them are wealthy and powerful. These people sometimes don’t believe the rules apply to them.”

“But when will any visitor see me? I came directly to the station from my apartment, got on the tram, and will get off at the employee station at the casino.”

Ellene almost blurted out a hasty answer before processing what Sascha had said. However, as the girl’s itinerary bludgeoned its way into her thoughts, she suddenly realized the meaningless nature of the argument between her and Dinwald. They had both overlooked the most important factor, perhaps not surprisingly, since neither of them were treated as a valuable resource like Sascha and the girls. They did not live on an island that had restricted access like those on the employee tram route. As Sascha had said, nobody would see her, well at least not the dangerous perverts she had feared, nor even the regular perverts the casino catered to and that Dinwald hoped to attract. She laughed at the silliness of the entire affair.

“Ms. Dupensk?”

“It’s nothing, Sascha, I guess it’s okay for you to wear Mr. Dinwald’s outfits. Just don’t wear it when you go out.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, people would laugh.”

Ellene quickly stifled an almost uncontrollable urge to giggle.

Courtesy of Scoundrels

Arcie Emm — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 18:59:09 -0500

Courtesy of Scoundrels

by Arcie Emm

If for nothing else, Alister could feel thankful for the weather. Though overcast and cool, the rain and biting cold that had kept him tucked away in the freezing, though mostly dry garret during the last three days appeared to be taking a break. Lucky indeed, because hunger would have forced him onto the streets today, no matter the weather, and in his oversized, tattered boots and clothes, he surely would have caught a chill. He had always been sickly, which went a long way to explaining his stature, specifically his lack of it.

Yet his small size and gaunt features usually served him well on the streets, with cup in hand. The fortunate were more likely to sooth their own conscience by passing a few of their tightly held pennies to those who appeared the saddest, a group in which he usually fit. Today, though, was not one of those days. He would eat tonight, but would need to be back on the street tomorrow, good weather or bad.

Too many things worked against him today. The first thing to go wrong was his inability to secure a good spot, leaving him on the edge of the market, closer to the abattoirs than his nose liked, with little sympathetic traffic. Secondly, if he showed the energy to get someone’s attention, they disbelieved that he was as pathetic as he tried to look. Thirdly, his fear of someone robbing him forced him to spend as much time looking for those who preyed on the weak as for those who may help them. And lastly, resulting from the third issue, his constant darting glances make him look shifty, something sure to turn off the gentry.

It proved what he already suspected, he could not be successful alone. And to this point of his nearly sixteen years, difficult as they had been, he had not been. For the first twelve years he had Mam and Billy to look after him, to get him the good spots, to draw attention to his plight, to pocket coins (making them seem poorer than they were), and to keep the predators at bay. Allowed to work without distractions, he could provide enough to mostly keep them in room, clothes, and food, though it did require some nighttime activities, by their mother, to provide the rest. Those activities caught up to her four years back, when she had not awoken from a beating received at the hands of one of her customers. Then it had been just Billy and him. But Billy never was sick like Alister, maybe because his first four years had been happened before Mam had ended up, while carrying Alister, on the streets. Thus, at fifteen, Billy had all the size that Alister lacked, enough to get revenge on the bastard that did their Mam wrong and more than enough to protect Alister over the next four years, while his little brother begged the gentry for coin.

Billy also enjoyed taking coin from them. Though his preferred methods were burgling and muggings, something that had led him to getting nicked by the city watch, three nights before, leaving Alister all alone and with little hope for the future. During the long, unproductive day, he slowly came to the conclusion that he needed to find some others who would welcome him into their midst, probably the little empire run Tommy Tick-Tock, who had wandered past Alister’s spot multiple times that day, a questioning look on his face. Still, Alister was not sure he had the stomach to pay the price the former watchmaker would probably demand in exchange for protection.

Speaking of Tommy, once more he came into sight, but this time not alone. With him was an officer of The Piccadilly Butchers, dressed all fancy like in his riding boots, white trousers, red serge fastened with shiny buttons and white belt into which white, leather gloves were folded. Alister knew the type, arrogant bastards who’d rather ride down than toss a coin to a starving waif. The only time the bastards would even notice somebody like Alister was in the pursuit of their own cruel amusements.

At the moment Alister hoped to see the Tommy and the toff walk by, not liking the sneer on the officer’s face or the fact that he was with Tommy. He particularly did not like the way Tick-Tock was gesturing in his direction. Suddenly deciding it would be best to move on, he darted in the opposite direction from which the two came. Right into the arms of Lazy Eyed Dick.

“Where ya off ta in such a hurry, Ali? When Ole Tommy and the fine gentleman were hoping ta have words with ya.”

Despite the eye, there was nothing wrong with Tommy’s number one, bully boy’s ability to wield the knife that Alister felt pricking at his side. “Ahh, I didn’t notice, Dick. I was just off to find a better spot.”

“Aye, Ali, this ain’t the place for ya. Ya need ta talk ta Tommy, he has a better spot in mind.”

Sick to the stomach, Alister nodded his head in agreement, knowing there was nothing he could say to escape Dick’s clutch. And the idea of a violent escape, well that was just laughable. So he allowed himself to be shoved towards the two other men, everybody in the vicinity minding their own business and ignoring what was happening before their eyes.

“This one?” The officer asked, staring at Alister in surprise.

“Well Captain, I don’t think you meant Billy, Mary Juniper’s other son, the one the watch nicked.”

“Son? Really?”

Tommy sniggered and said, “Aye it’s hard to imagine, isn’t it. Still I swear Ali’s a boy, though you wouldn’t know it when he’s in a dress. He’s a real looker, ain’t he Dick?”

“Yes, indeed, Tommy. Led more than a few poor buggers to their doom, he has.”

Anger and embarrassment warred to make his face the redder, as Lazy Eye and Tick-Tock laughed. It wasn’t like the two implied at all. The tattered dresses he had often worn while begging on the street were good for business. Sad little girls found it easier to gain sympathy than did sad little boys, something also proved by today’s take. He did not feel embarrassed for having done it, but he had not known that others were aware of the other times. When he wore one of Ma’s old working dresses, out in the evening, tempting drunken men into alleys. But not to do what they wanted, instead he led them into the dark, Billy and his cudgel waited to conduct the next part of the transaction.

The officer did not join in the laughter, instead he just stared at Alister. Finally as slight smile came over his face and he said, “Yes, I see now.”

“What’s that, Captain?”

“This is who I’m looking for.”

“Happy to help, we are.”

“Worry not, you’ll get paid. Do you know The Silly Goat, by St. Anna’s Cathedral?”

“Aye, Captain. Though it’s not for my type.”

“No, I imagine not. Can you deliver our young friend there tonight?”

“Well...”

“Worry not, Tommy. There will be another of these waiting for you when you do.”

“Will do, Captain.”

“And Tommy.”

“Aye?”

“Make sure he has bathed first.”

Alister did not know whether to fight or shout. He has seen the flash of gold when the officer passed a coin to Tick-Tock. The man would definitely follow through with the delivery, making sure Alister did not escape, for another coin. Defeated, he slumped in Dick’s grasp.

***

Though Alister constantly watched for a chance to escape, none presented itself under the careful watch of Tick-Tock’s crew. Lazy Eyed Dick had dragged him from the market to Red Betty’s place, in order to get him the bath the officer had demanded. The hard faced woman had in turn taken the boy in hand just as if he were one of her girls. Forcing him to haul the water himself to fill the round metal tub in her kitchen, only one of the buckets spending any time on the stove, she first demanded he undress, then proved her wiry strength and forced him to do so. Soon he was crouched, sitting in the cold water, turning the water black, while the woman’s brush and caustic soap turned his skin an angry pink.

One saving grace was the woman’s disinterested demeanor, caring not or commenting not on his appearance, specifically his short comings. The second one was that she spared him the embarrassment of having Dick stay and watch, when she asked, “And how are yee going to dress the grimy, little blighter when’s I get him clean?”

“Why, his clothes.”

“Use yer noggin’ Dick. If his Lordship wanted him washed, do you really think he’ll be happy to see Ali show up in clothes stinkin’ worse than the boy currently smells hisself?”

“I guess not.” Thinking for a moment, a difficult task for the man, a smirk suddenly appeared on his face, “Why don’t ya put him in one of the dresses yar girls wear. Ali won’t mind. Will ya boy?”

“Yee ain’t paying me enough for that, Dick.”

He almost piped up at this, in anger that Dick was paying the woman with the money he had earned begging during the day, but Alister kept his silence. Although speaking may have interrupted Dick’s thoughts, before he struck gold. “What about Ali’s other duds, maybe those would work.”

“That’s using your noggin’, Dick. Where’s they at, boy?”

Alister maintained his silence despite a cuff to the back of the head. Dick, using up the remainder of his allocated thoughts for the month, answered for him. “Billy found hisself and Ali a garret in Bingle Alley, likes enough it’s there.”

“Like enough, you go get them and I’ll gets the boy clean.”

“Me?”

“I’m not going, yee’s not paying me enough to tramp all over when I could be doing better things.”

By the time the man was back, Alister was out of the tub, Betty having unbent enough to give him a shift with which to cover his nakedness, although he again wore his ratty boots. Combined with his long, damp, brown hair and delicate features, he looked more natural than wearing Billy’s cast-offs. It drew a laugh from the returning Lazy Eyed Dick, though it was the bundle of cloth in his arms that made Alister’s eyes burn with anger, more than the laugh. Resentment at the man rummaging through his and Billy’s place, something that would not have happened if Billy was free. Everybody, except Alister, knew and feared Billy’s temper.

“Pewww, boy haven’t you heard of water. It’s a good yer a pretty little thing, otherwise the smell of these clothes would have scared away all those men before they met Billy’s cudgel. I guess we’ll have to use some of my things after all, though I’ll be taking these in exchange, maybe they’ll be some use if cleaned.”

Dick did not notice the look of avarice in Betty’s eyes as she said this. To him, clothes were clothes. But Alister saw it, knowing the woman was aware that the cloak in which Dick had wrapped everything, and which Billy had taken from some drunk dandy, was of better quality than any of them had ever worn. Wishing they had sold the cloak when they had the chance, Alister glared from Dick to Betty before she scurried through to the next room with the bundle in hand. When she returned, she brought a threadbare dress and cloak of dark, grey wool and forced the boy to pull the first over his head.

“Blimey, its a bleedin’ wonder that ya look the way ya do, Ali. Can ya do something with his hair or sumthin’, Betty. His Lordship is paying enough, we may as well make Ali as pretty as he can be.”

Trying to fend off Betty’s hands only earned him a rap on the head from her brush. Defeated once more, he let her brush it out before arranging it into a bun. Fortunately Dick did not have anymore recommendations, nor did Betty offer any. Soon Tommy Tick-Tock showed up, laughed for a moment, and had Alister don the cloak, pulling the hood up over his head, trying to hide what the woman had done to accentuate what he in the past had himself exploited. Then they were out the door, the men on either side of the disguised boy, on their way to The Silly Goat.

Alister spared only a moment to realize that the fear of what was about to happen had completely driven away his hunger.

***

The Silly Goat was found outside the territory in which the three were comfortable, causing the two men to furtively look about and appear even more what they were. In turn, Alister preferred for everybody to assume he was who he appeared, having long ago adopted his mother’s advice, ‘I know you don’t want to Ali, so Billy won’t be sassing you none, if he know’s what’s what. But you would be best to not show that you don’t want to, ‘cause if you just seem to be who you appear to be, people will be less likely to notice.‘

Nobody, they passed, doubted what he appeared to be, a teenage whore with her whoremaster and his bully boy. So the only glances the three drew were in curiosity, since though the area around the inn was a better quality, their type were not uncommon. Alister knew that none of the lookers would care anymore about his plight than that of any girl in a like position, so he did not waste energy raising a ruckus, hoping for assistance. Fighting would come later, with the toff, when the tip of Dick’s knife no longer was making its presence known. Alone, with the toff, he would become the hellion Billy had taught him to become if he ever fell into this situation

The Silly Goat stood on a street more prosperous than those surrounding it, it having oil lanterns in place, most of them even having been lit. Still they preferred to stop in the shadows, just outside the circles of light cast by two of those lamps. Then they looked towards the mostly quiet inn, watching as two men entered and one left.

“I’ll be going to get the dandy, Dick. Stay here and keep ahold of Ali, don’t let him run away or the lost gold will be coming out of your hide.”

“Sure thing, boss. Ali won’t run anyway, will ya Ali?”

The sullen glance Dick received in answer, made the two men laugh. Clapping Dick upon the shoulder, Tommy moved out into the light and towards the inn. Waiting for his return, Dick broke their silence to say, “Ya know Ali, ya should look on this as a chance.”

Snorting, Alister said, “Some chance, to get buggered by some sick bastard.”

“Now Ali, ya know’s that we’uns don’t get good chances. But there’s no how yer going to last long without Billy looking after ya. Ya play it right, this fancy fellah could.”

Alister returned to ignoring the man, not saying that those same traitorous thoughts had already been tickling the edges of his own mind. Lots about his life was worthy of disliking, but he did it anyway, in order to survive. Would this really be any worse? He had seen what was at the end of either path, multiple orphans wasted away from hunger or his mother, never waking from her beating. Dick was right, he had no good chance. Nor did he need to yet make a decision, knowing that only at the actual moment would he learn how he would react, in which direction his true self would move.

The two did not wait in uncomfortable silence for long, as the inn’s door opened to disgorge Tommy and the officer. Nervously prattling, the first led the silent second towards their waiting point, though that worthy stopped two lampposts short and would not come any closer. They argued for a moment, before Tick-Tock gestured for the two to come forward.

Head bowed, Alister moved forward, crossing from darkness to light to darkness and back into light, curiosity forcing his head upwards to gauge the officer’s reaction. It was not what he had expected, the man’s ruddy face suddenly growing pale, as if in shock at the Alister’s appearance. It lasted only a moment, anger wiping away the surprise.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“What’s that, Captain.”

“Why is the boy dressed like this?”

“Well, Captain, you said you wanted him cleaned up an’ we just guessed.”

“Guessed that I’m some God-damned pervert, is that it, Man?”

“Well, then why’d you want Ali?”

“Not that you need to know, but it’s family obligations.”

“What?”

“Why young Master Alister is the last remaining child of my Uncle Leroy, even though he was born on the wrong side of the sheets.”

While Alister’s face assumed the look of shock, which had recently resided upon on his supposed cousin’s own face, a mulish one appeared on Tommy’s, both from the officer’s tone and at the realization he may have missed out on a chance. It turned his voice into a growl, as he said, “I don’t care’s if he’s the bloody King of Siam. We’ve done delivered him, now it’s time for our pay.”

“Oh yes, don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t forget.”

The two men watched him reach into a large pouch, different from the one earlier in the day. But instead of the glint of gold, the light bounced off the brass fittings of a cavalry holster. Tommy only had time to begin jerking backwards before the pistol ball provided more impetus to Tick-Tock’s last movement. Dick gaped, while Alister instinctively acted, elbowing the man in the gut and escaping from Lazy Eye’s grasp. However, curiosity about the officer’s claim of him being family, stopped him before ran too far.

Sneering at the winded thug, the officer said, “Well done, cousin.”

Drawing his hangar from its scabbard, he knocked aside Dick’s feebly raised dagger, and ran him through. Looking at Alister, holding him in place with a glance, the man listened, then shouted. “Help! I’m being robbed.”

***

The two bodies, provided ample reminder as to why Alister should follow his supposed cousin’s warning to hold in place, even though his instincts now urged him to flee. Casual and competent violence, which Tommy and Dick may have admired, if not for being its victim, turned his fear of the man into something more acceptable than the dread he had experienced during the walk from Red Betty’s. Thus Alister did not counter the explanation the officer, who introduced himself as Lieutenant Percival Hamilton, provided to the watchmen. Instead he silently accept the role the two new man assumed he filled.

“Well I was having a nice pork pie at The Silly Goat, have you ever tried one? No, you really should, they are rightly famous for them. But, anyway, I was eating my pie when this ruffian, the one with the red vest, came in to let me know he had something for me.

“Did I think it was strange? Not a whole lot, to be honest, I guessed he was from of of my fellows in the regiment. You see, well...umm, please don’t go bandying this about, but we are always on the lookout for...umm company, yes company that may interest our friends. Then we arrange for them to meet this umm...company.”

“The Tart?” The older of the watchmen asked, nodding in Alister’s direction, not showing his amusement at learning about the indiscretions of his betters.

Hamilton was a fine actor, sighing, almost as if he was just a regular fellow caught out for something embarrassing, instead of trying to explain away two murders. “Aye, her. But I swear, as soon as I spotted her, I told them she was too young for me and to be on their way. They were none too pleased with this and that is when I spotted the larger one wielding a knife. I’m afraid I acted as if I was back on the peninsula, going for my pistol which I had in my pouch, because this isn’t the safest neighbourhood, and fired.

“Oh no, in that I was fortunate. The girl, apparently liking her fellows no more than I, elbowed the one with the knife, giving me time to draw my sword, the demned thing catching as I did so. But I was able to knock aside his attack and with a riposte as pretty as any my fencing instructor ever saw me perform, I ran the poor beggar through.”

The watchman looked at Percival with a calculating look, but the explanation had been chock full of the reactions to be expected from someone who had fended off a robbery. From the embarrassment about the tart, to the seeming pride at the way he had taken out the thugs, it made sense. Particularly since he did not see any reason for the officer to hunt down the two men, then call for help, while the dead men looked like the sort who would not hesitate to rob some fop, like the officer. Still, he decided it was necessary to hear the prostitute’s version of what happened. “You, girl, what’s your name.”

Having learned at an early age to never give the watchmen his real name, Alister was quick to respond. “Edna Smith, Yer Honour.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“It’s like the young gentleman said, Yer Honour. Tommy and Dick, they’s these two, picked me up earlier and said they had sumthin’ for me to do. They’s terrible mean, so I dinna argue. They brought me here and then they got in a fight and Mr. Lieutenant Hamilton did ‘em in. I’m not sorry either, nor will many be.”

That was enough for the watchmen. They did not doubt what the tart said, the dead men were not the type that anybody would ever miss. All this affair did was spare the city the money to arrest and hang the two at some later point.

“Very well then, it looks like these villains met their just end. Still, my superiors may be interested in discussing the matter further with you, Lieutenant Hamilton.”

“Of course.” Percival agreed, informing the men it was easiest to get in touch with him at his regimental headquarters.

“Very well, Sir. And Edna.”

“Yes, Yer Honour?”

“I think it best that you find your way back to where you belong.”

“Umm...maybe I should escort her.”

The watchman considered the lieutenant, guessing that the excitement had aged young Edna enough in the Captain’s eyes, turning her into someone who could help him celebrate his victory. It really was no business of his and the pretty girl looked like she needed to make some coin to feed herself. So he said, “If you wish, Lieutenant.”

“Umm...yes, yes then. Come, young lady, let’s get you away from this terrible place and back to your home.”

Alister accepted his supposed cousins hand on his arm, guiding him to and past The Silly Goat. Turning a corner, out of sight of the watchmen who waited for the meat wagon, the man said, “Well done. You followed my lead perfectly back there.”

“What else could I do, cousin. Besides, we have so much to talk about.”

Turning a predatory smile towards Alister, Percival said, “Yes, yes we do. But it can wait until we are someplace private.”

***

That private place turned out to be Percival’s home, a townhouse joined to three others, many blocks away from the inn, Alister spent the last number of these covered in the officer’s cloak, its large size hiding him from prying eyes, as to be expected from a young man sneaking a lady of the evening into his home. However, the secrecy rekindled Alister’s nerves, making him wonder if the two-faced man had been lying all along. Still, it was too late to run.

Yet as soon as the two were behind closed doors, Percival began trying to calm his young companion. First, helping him off with the cloak, to be hung from a hook by the door. Then, directing him to a chair at a table, the captain rummaged in cupboards to find cheese and bread, placed them in front of Alister and began to prepare some tea. Not until he had finished, pouring a cup for the boy, who barely chewed the food he ate, and for himself, did he take a seat, across the table.

“Well I am sure that you have an awful lot of questions, but first let me fill you in with some background, before you ask them. Is that okay?”

“Um-hmm.”

“Besides it will give you time to finish your meal. More tea?”

“Yes, please.”

While filling the cup that Alister had already quickly emptied, Percival gathered his thoughts, as he leaned back in his chair. “Right then. As you probably heard, while I spoke to the watch, my name is Percival Hamilton of the Wentworth Hamiltons. But all you need to know about the Hamiltons is that my father’s sister, Dianne, married Master Leroy Chester, whose family owes their wealth to the textile industry. With her, Uncle Leroy, had three children, my cousins Spencer, Forest, and Eleanor. Privileged children, they lacked for nothing while young, maybe that is why they were given such a rough go of it as they grew into adulthood.

“I suppose nobody should have been surprised by what happened to the boys. Like me, Spencer always wanted to be in the cavalry, and with Boney trying to conquer the world, old Spence had the opportunity. Sadly that opportunity led the poor boy and the rest of the 23rd Light Dragoons, to the Tagus valley in Spain, specifically to Talavera, where from all accounts he died a hero. As for Forest, nobody ever expected him to die as a hero, he proved us all right by falling down the stairs at the country house and breaking his neck, two years after Spence’s passing. Probably the fall was wine induced, Forest did have a weakness, but if so it was kept all hush-hush, don’t you know, Dear Uncle Leroy making it out to be a dreadful accident.

“This left only sweet, spoiled Eleanor. Her father doted on her, particularly after my Aunt Dianne and the boys left the two of them alone, and despite causing all sorts of mischief, her father always passed blame onto others. Maybe, if he had reined her in earlier he would not have found himself trying, last year, to avert the scandal that his unwed darling was with child. Probably the get of one of the servants, though my uncle could never determine which. And despite his demands, Eleanor refused to make the matter go away as expected from unwise daughters of her class, believing it to be a symbol of the love with her unnamed beau. A bad decision, her being a little slip of a thing, much like you. The pregnancy was troubled from the start and only grew worse. Neither she nor the babe survived, Uncle Leroy has been devastated ever since.”

Listening to the man, Alister detected the anger in Percival’s voice at any mention of his uncle. He began to suspect that he had not been tracked down, by the officer, to bring about a happy reunion. He asked, “And me? Where do I fit in?”

“You, young Alister, you were the cause of the first scandal that Uncle Leroy ever dealt with, though that time his own fault. He has always preferred staying at the townhouse, close to his businesses, while Aunt Dianne preferred the country house. And so, while in the city, he sought solace from her absence in the arms of a string of willing mistresses. One such was a recently widowed woman, hired on as a maid, by the name of Mary Juniper.”

He was not surprised to hear his mother’s name. It fit with what little he had been told by his mother, whom he had never heard speak the name of the man in whose employ she had worked and whose bed she had warmed. Alister expected the rest of the story to also match.

“Well as cousin Eleanor learned, such dalliances have unintended consequences. Nor did Uncle Leroy act with any more grace that first time. Yet even then he had a gift for covering up scandals, paying off a number of his servants to come forward and admit the child might be theirs, making the woman out to be a harlot. The groundwork finished, he was able to cast her out of his household. From there, I guess you are more aware of what happened than I.”

“Yes.”

“Indeed. Anyway, I recently had the story from one of those servants, whom I found deep in his cups at a tavern lamenting how unhappy has become the Chester household, some even thinking it has been cursed. This led to my starting my search to find you, hoping that you may ease my uncle’s sorrows. You cannot believe how happy I was to finally find you this afternoon, for as soon as I spotted you I doubted not that you had Chester blood.”

“And now you plan to use me to use me to blackmail your dear uncle?”

The predator was back, the sudden glare smoothing the way for the wolfish smile. “Yes, despite your appearance, you are not an innocent are you? It’s easy to forget, even I, so soon after the death of those thugs left not a single one of your feathers ruffled, had done so. And yes, though blackmail is such a dirty word, in you I did hope to obtain us, his closest living relatives, what we deserve. Look at us, me left with an allowance that barely keeps this, my parent’s house, from creditors and me up to the standards of an officer in the Life Guards. There is definitely no money to pay for the manservant expected of a gentleman, nor to buy a captaincy if one became available. And yet I live like a king compared to you, his own flesh and blood. No let us not call it blackmail, it is claiming our birthright.”

Alister recognized the reasoning to be complete balderdash, but knew most rogues needed to explain away their crimes. It was why Lazy Eyed Dick had tried to convince him he was being sold into a better life, just as it was why Billy and Alister, after mugging another mark, would discuss how evil a man must be to want to take advantage of poor, sad looking Ali. Only the most black hearted of scoundrels did not care, often disparaging the excuses of their fellows, instead of courteously accepting them.

“How?”

“Pardon?”

“How do you plan for us to claim our birthright?”

“Then you’re in?”

“Maybe, depending upon the plan.”

“Well I must admit to not having one yet in place. It did not seem worth the effort to create one until I knew you actually existed.”

“Okay, I can understand that.”

“But I do have an idea or two, though they require more thought before I put them into words.”

“How long?”

“A day or two at the most. Though, of course, my house is yours while you wait.”

It was an offer filled with risk, but was it any worse than he would face if he returned to the streets? Alister did not think so, at their worst, both would lead to death. But at its best, this gambit may keep him off the street, because there the best equaled the worst. Yet first he tested his potential co-conspirator, seeing if he could be pushed, trying to determine how desperate was the man.

“I am willing to listen, but I have a condition.”

“A condition?”

“Yes, to prove that you are trustworthy.”

“And how in turn will you prove that you in turn are trustworthy, cousin.”

“I don’t need to be trustworthy, I just need to be afraid of you. And you have ensured that with the ease you dispatched Tommy and Dick, I doubt not you could do away with me, even more easily.”

Looking at his small cousin, dressed as a prostitute, brought forth another of the predator’s grin. “It is good to see you are fully aware of your situation, Alister. It will make for a better partnership. Very well then, what is your condition? I will not promise to accept it, but I am filled with good will, at the moment, and am willing to listen.”

“It’s my brother Billy, the watch got him four days ago, I want you to get him out of the clink.”

“And why would your brother be in the clink?”

“He was accused of burglaring a house in Queen’s crossing.”

“And did he?”

“Oh, of course not.” Alister said, his smile inviting Percival into the lie.

“Burglary, hmm? Those skills may prove useful to our future plans. Very well then, I will see what I can do.”

“Oh, thank you, Percival!”

***

Percival proved prescient, his house seemed like paradise to Alister. It was dry and warm, had food in the cupboards, and soft feather beds in which to sleep, tucked beneath a goose down quilt. It seemed a small price to have nothing to wear other than the shift and dress. For the first time, in a very long time, Alister felt comfortable. He would happily accept this waiting to last forever, then it was over. Three evenings after his arrival, his landlord returned home from his daily business with a welcome companion.

“Billy!” Alister yelled, rushing to give his brother a hug, trying to ignore the grime and stench from prison. Cleanliness had also played its part in seducing him to this place.

Accepting the hug, Billy gently separated from Alister, looked at the way he was dressed, to Percival, and questioned, “Ali?”

From Billy, the diminutive of his name never came across as insulting. That acceptance had manifested in treating his brother the same, be he in dress or trousers. So as he silently asked the question, it was without judgment, for he had hoped, while locked away, that Alister would seek protection, even in this manner.

“No Billy, it’s not like that. Apparently Percival’s my cousin.”

“What?”

Looking to Percival for permission, Alister told his brother what had happened, drawing a raised eyebrow when Billy heard about Tommy and Dick. Then he explained Percival‘s intentions.

“Bastard deserves it, specially after how he did Mam.” Billy said, but then the only part of the Bible that he thought had any value was Exodus 21.

“Ahh, excellent.” Percival said, interrupting the reunion. “And, it just so happens I have finally come up with a plan. Why don’t we adjourn to the kitchen, so that Billy can deal with his hunger while I explain.”

This time, it was Alister who moved about the kitchen, preparing tea and getting Billy his food, there having been silent agreement between the two that left him taking on many of the roles which matched his appearance, as payment for room and board. Percival proved content to wait until they all had a plate and cup before them before he began to speak.

“During the last few days I have thought much about this, which made me recognize that Uncle Leroy is a tough old bugger, who would fight any attempted blackmail with his not insignificant powers. I realized we have to weaken him first, before we can get our due.”

“We’s going to rough him up?” Billy asked.

“Certainly not. Instead we are going to prey upon his mind.”

The brothers looked at each other, their shared confusion showing on both faces. Alister said, “I don’t follow.”

“No, of course, without knowing him, you wouldn’t. See, despite appearing to be an upright, God-fearing gentleman, he is devilishly superstitious. Probably the result of being raised by a nanny who, the few times I met her before she passed away, was a crazy old bat who believed in ghosts and ghouls. He mostly hides it, but everybody knows he built the new townhouse, because he thought his father was haunting the old one. Complete balderdash, no scientific thinking gentleman would ever believe such a thing, knowing instead that it was a manifestation of guilt, probably for having done the old man wrong in some fashion.

“Personally, I have never believed in such a thing. But I swear, when I saw you, Alister, cross from the darkness into the lamp light, outside The Silly Goat, for a moment it felt as if I was staring at the ghost of my cousin Eleanor.”

That explained the look he had seen on Percival’s face, thought Alister, while guessing where the man was headed with his thoughts. “Don’t tell me that you expect me to become her ghost for real. Not only am I not her, or any her, I’m also very much alive, and therefore unqualified.”

Billy, more familiar with sneaking about houses in the dark of night, did not make any such protests. Instead, he asked, “How?”

Ignoring Alister, Percival answered Billy. “The second reason for the new townhouse, was to sooth my uncle’s ego. As a result the place is huge, full of rooms and back ways, easy to move about undetected and to get away if it does happen. I know Spence and I, as boys, drove more than a few staff members to distraction trying to find us, after we had disappeared for entire afternoon without going outside. And that was in the days when the house bustled with people, now it only houses my uncle, the butler, the cook, and four maids.”

“It don’t have a night watchman?”

“Ah yes, I had forgotten Charles, a trooper from Spence’s regiment, who was injured at Talavera, trying to get my cousin to safety. But you need not worry about him. He hobbles about with a cane and dulls his aches with cheap liquor. He is no worry.”

“Still have to get by him, unless you knows another way in.”

“Why yes, I do. A gift from Forest, if you will, given to me while helping him return home, none the wiser, after he snuck from his bedroom for a night of carousing and ended up only being able to find the way to my door. ‘Tis the key for the door between his balcony and his rooms. Which is in the back of the house, with an easy to climb trellis providing access to the balcony.”

“Is there now?” Billy asked. “Mayhap's I should take a look see first, before Ali and I go committing to anything. Iffen, Your Lordship, is willing to part his key and tell me where to find this place?”

A scowl met this request. Percival saying, “And what’s to stop you from robbing the place and running off.”

“You’se got Ali, I won’t run without him. ‘Sides, any hauntin’s going to be a two man job, Ali will need a watcher so’ns he don’t get caught. I suspect that will be my job, ‘less, Your Lordship, plans to do it.”

Indecision warred within Percival. He saw himself as the boss of this caper, but found it hard to disagree with what Billy said, after all he had expected the two brothers to do the inside work together. Finally deciding, he would have to trust Billy, he said, “Very well then, let’s go. By the time we get there, it will be dark enough for you to go look about.”

Billy just nodded, being fully aware from his past experience, that uneasy trust first had to be overcome before a burglar team could work together. Besides the not-so-fancy-boy officer seemed to be made of sterner stuff than that skunk Freddy, whose blabbing had led to Billy’s capture. And Percival had paid off the clink’s guards to free him from that capture, so Billy felt he owed him an honest effort. Soon the two of them were once heading out the door.

Alister, miffed at the way they had ignored him, seeming to believe they could decide his fate for him, waited and worried that things would not go as smoothly as Percival thought. Instead of returning to the small, luxurious seeming bedroom he had claimed for his own, he settled into an old armchair to bide his time until they returned. Hours later he was jerked awake by friendly laughter being shared between the two men. Rising from his seat, he hurried out to the entranceway.

Seeing him, a large smile appeared on Billy’s face and he said, “Ahh Ali, his lordship were right, it’s a grand place for a ghost.”

***

They did not rush willy-nilly into their haunting endeavor, each recognizing the wisdom in careful planning, much of that falling upon the experienced Billy’s head, which caused him to return, on nearly a nightly basis, to further scout the townhouse. During the day, he and Alister would try to come up with ways of bringing about ghostly encounters with it residents. They then presented these to Percival, who continued to conduct his business as if nothing was different, for approval. Rarely balking at these ideas, Percival contented himself by adding details to match the quirks of the willful Eleanor. That always seemed his main concern, for Alister to appear as much like Eleanor as possible. It started the night after Billy’s arrival, when he fetched a locket containing a tiny portrait of his dead cousin.

Looking from the painting, to a mirror, and back, Alister was forced to admit. “Yeah, I guess I do kinda look like her.”

“More than that. If you fix your hair like hers and maybe wear make-up, you will become even a better match.”

“Oh, that’s rather more than I had expected.”

“You need to look as much like Eleanor as possible.”

“I guess. Okay then, how do I go about doing it?”

“You know.” Percival said, point a finger at his head and twirling it about.

Recognizing, by the idiotic gesture, that Percival had no clue what to do, while at the same time assuming Alister knew, made the potential ghost realize it was time for a reminder. “No I don’t know. Remember, I’m a boy. Sure, my hair is long and I’ve worn a dress enough not to be bothered by one, but the only make-up I’ve ever used has been dirt.”

“Oh! Right, I never thought. It’s too easy to forget you’re Alister, not Ali.”

“I’m both, but not the Eleanor we need me to be. I’ll need help for that.”

“I can’t help.” Percival said, almost in alarm.

“I hadn’t expected you to, but I’m going to need somebody.”

“Oh? I’ll find somebody then.”

***

Two morning later, Alister made his first foray out of the house, since his arrival nearly a week before. Accompanying him was Billy, clean and dressed in an old suit of Percival’s. In turn, Alister still wore the clothes from Red Betty’s, something their current errand hoped to remedy.

With thoughts of making Alister appear even more like Eleanor, Percival had approached one of his friends, known for his rather eclectic tastes. From the man, Percival had obtained the name and address of an establishment, along with a promise to pass along word to the proprietress about Alister’s manufactured desire to look more like a girl. A fake desire that common sense threatened to override as they turned onto the street that held the establishment.

“Bloody Hell , Billy. How could I’ve got myself into this?”

“Aye, it’s a plan that could land us all in Bedlam.”

“What? I thought you believed it was brilliant?”

“Nah, it’s as like ta end in disaster as success. But if it succeeds, we’ll be rich beyond our dreams and ‘tis a sight more comfortable at Percy’s than in the clink or our garret.”

“Yeah, I like that part too.”

“Still, it’s up ta you. Say the word and we’ll keep walking and leave it behind.”

That’s what he thought they should do, but greed and a thirst for revenge took the other side of the argument. They proved persuasive, finally causing him to say, “Well I guess it won’t hurt to see this Madame Heston. We can still run if it gets too strange.”

“It’s up ta you, Ali.”

Before sense returned, Alister turned towards the house, marched up to the door, and used the knocker. It did not take long before it was opened by a perfectly normal looking, middle-aged housewife. As she look questioningly at them, he felt sure they had been led astray. However, on the off chance they had not been, he said, “We’re friends of Dally’s, he said he was going to let you know we was coming.”

A smile answered this, the woman saying, “Ahh, yes, dear Dally, he always does have the most delightful of friends. Do come in, won’t you?”

Leading them to a delicately decorated parlour, she looked the two over, her gaze settling upon settling upon Alister, and asked, “And how may I help you, Dear?”

Alister had rehearsed an entire speech, but found himself blurting out the most simple of lies instead. “I want to look more like a girl, but don’t know how.”

“Well you are well on your way already, most would not guess you are not who you appear to be.”

“But I don’t know what else to do. The hair and the clothes and the make-up and all. I, I want to look like her.”

This was the step that had made Percival the most nervous. Handing over the locket with the painting of Eleanor inside. He had worried that the mysterious Madame Heston would be familiar with the girl and may begin to wonder who Alister could be. But when she opened the locket to look inside there was no recognition, instead she turned once more to look at him.

“We could come close, but my services do not come cheap.”

This last was said as she looked at the clothing the two wore. Billy, in his role as manservant, answered, “My Master had a figure from his friend.”

Watching him hand over a purse for the woman to check, Alister tried not to blush at the seeming admittance that he was some gentleman’s mistress. Instead he remembered the spectacle Percival had raised while handing over that purse, cursing at the cost and bemoaning the fact that he would need to stay away from his favourite entertainments until the next allowance arrived from his uncle.

“Yes that will do quite nicely. You, young man, take a seat here. My maid will bring you tea. And you, young lady, won’t you please follow me?”

They ended up in what Alister guessed too be a sewing room. There Madame Heston summoned her maid, passing on instructions about the tea and to fill the bath, then having him stand in the middle of the room, she slowly circled about him, viewing him from all angles, from far and near.

“Yes, then off with your boots and out of your dress, Dear. And your shift as well. No need to blush, you are not the first I have helped. Yes, stand there a moment, let me look again. My you are the lucky one, so rarely are those that come to me as fortunate in their appearance as you. True, we could wish you had a bit more flesh on your bones, in order to give you a better bosom, but the girl in your picture is not rich in that area either. Agnes, is the bath ready?”

“Just one more bucket to heat, Madame.”

“Hurry Agnes, we have much work to do. And you, my Dear, how would you be called?”

“Ali, Madame.”

“Lovely as you are. While we wait let’s discuss clothing. Do you know what you seek?”

“Not exactly, Madame.”

“Are you wanting formal wear?”

“Oh no, just everyday stuff.”

“You will be dressing every day?”

“That is my hope.”

“Very well then. Your Master’s purse shall see you have the start of a fine wardrobe. Two day dresses, undergarments, a coat, a pair of boots, slippers for inside, and all the necessary accessories.”

“And a pretty, white nightgown?” Alister asked, trying to hide the blush at what could be implied by this request, but unwilling to say that such a nightgown would be perfect, ghostly wear.

“Of course. Do you have a colour preference for your dresses?”

“Whatever you think best, Madame.”

“Wonderful. Ahh, yes, Agnes, is the bath ready?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Excellent. Now, Ali, let us adjourn next door to the bath. It is time to begin your day.”

Something, probably the casual manner in which the woman and her maid treated the situation, set him at ease. He trusted her to help him be whom he was pretending to be, seemingly the perfect confidante, accepting the abnormal as normal. In the bath he found himself using a scented soap, gentle compared to that from Betty’s, even in comparison to what was available at Percival’s. Finished with the bath, his hair still wet despite a good rubbing, he pulled on a pair of white, woolen stockings, fastening them with garters over his knees. Next was a cotton shift, with short-sleeves, a drawstring at its scooped neckline, that fell to just below the top of his stockings. The stays, which followed, made from a cotton drill patterned with small, blue flowers on a white background., proved not nearly as uncomfortable as Alister expected, hugging rather than squeezing. Though it did create small bumps and the cleft that went along with them.

Judged decent, Madame Heston had him take a seat in a chair, where she use a brush and scissors to straighten out his hair. What followed was a lengthy lesson in the creation of pin curls and buns, which in the end left him with a wide ribbon tied around his head, knotted at his skull, and holding together a mass of curls on his head, his very own hands having done the work at her guidance.

“I noticed that your young lady in the picture has the pale skin of the well-to-do, paler than yours. Do you seek it, as well?”

Not mentioning how good it would be for a ghost, he nodded his head and was swept into another lesson dealing with whiteners, rouge, and eyebrow blackening. It left him stunned, seeing Eleanor appear before him in the mirror. Staring at her he barely heard Madame Heston’s warning.

“There are rumours that using make-up is bad for your health. I cannot swear to either the truth or lie in that, so I recommend you only use it on special occasions. Of course, becoming yourself for the first time is a special occasion, so feel free to leave it on for today.”

Still amazed by his appearance, he was easily led through the rest of his dressing, Madame Heston having an assortment of ready made items available, although somewhat limited for someone as small as he, unlike her normal clientele. As a result he ended up wearing brown leather half boots and dressed in a green, long-sleeved day dress. But that was not the entirety of his new clothing, in two carpet bags had been place more undergarments, the nightgown, a pair of leather soled green satin slippers with pointed toes, and a like pair in lavender silk, to be worn with a periwinkle, short-sleeved day dress, made of muslin, when he felt like staying in doors and being pretty.

Barely recognizing himself, he was swept along by her enthusiasm, offering murmurs of agreement when it seemed appropriate. Desperately wishing he had kept going when offered the chance by Billy, he gave a mental shake at his confident contention that they could decide to run after the seeing what Madame Heston was all about. There was no chance he would return to his past looking the way he now did. Instead, he eagerly wished for the safety of the Percival’s house

Realizing he should make some appreciative noises, in case he ever needed the woman’s assistance again, Alister dredged up the energy for fake ebullience, thanking her for making his dreams come true. Madame Heston, for her part, was thrilled with the result and accepted his thanks with the smile of a skilled craftsman. She then helped him on with a long, green, woolen coat, buttoned right up to the lace ribbon, holding his bonnet upon his head, beneath his chin. Offering him green wool gloves which he pulled on with some difficulty, she circled him one more time, looking for something out of place, but finding everything perfect. Shaking her head in pleased amazement, she led him back to the parlour where they found a napping Billy.

Alister could have almost found it comical the way Billy started awake, staring at him in surprise, rubbing his eyes before looking again, forgetting his place as manservant, and blurting out as the prideful, older brother. “Criminy Ali, you’re beautiful.”

Thanking Madame Heston, and Agnes, one more time for their efforts, Alister finally escaped, leading to a quiet walk home. Billy stopping immediately each time he began to speak, feeling confused about his drastically altered brother. One thing for sure, he was not going to offer that they keep on walking and leave it all behind.

***

Alister’s transformation at Madame Heston’s proved a turning point for the conspirators, wiping away any doubt that they would proceed with their plans. Each grew more serious and felt a greater urgency. They finalized their plans, Billy confirming hiding spots and locations within the sleeping house during the next nights, while Percival filled Alister’s head with knowledge about Eleanor, even trying to have him recreate her voice. The result was not perfect, but most would expect a ghost’s voice to be changed, so they accepted the slight differences, particularly since they intended him to be a silent ghost.

So it was, five nights after his further feminization, that Alister slathered his face in whitening, this time unrelieved by rouge or blackening. Over the pure white nightgown from Madame Heston’s, he pulled on his original, poorly fitted, Betty dress, it and the matching cloak covering his ghostly garment until they were inside the Chester townhouse.

Once on the quiet streets, scurrying to keep up with Billy’s pace, Alister felt his heart beating nervously at the thought of what they were about to do. Just like those times when the two had slipped from their garret, he in the fancy lady’s dress, to go hunting. The possibility of something going wrong, like the unwanted curiosity of a watchman or running into someone more prepared than they, felt exactly the same. Yet he could not deny the excitement at the possibility of the ridiculous plan succeeding and the very idea of acting against the world, instead of waiting for it to act against him. It made him feel alive, giving him the energy to keep up to his brother’s pace.

They slowed, Billy looking about for night owls, before pulling him into the darkened shadows of an alley entrance. There he pointed at a large house down the street and quietly said, “There it is. You wait here a moment, I’m going to circle about and see if anything looks out of place.”

Nodding his head, despite his worry at being left alone, Alister watched his brother slip away, fading quickly into the shadows. It was this ability to seemingly disappear which explained why Billy was out scouting alone, for Alister did not have the same knack. Instead, he was better at being the distraction. Yet it is a nervous thing to be a distraction, appearing weak, and relying so much on those unseen to be your protector. And he was glad to see the shadowy figure of Billy, recognizable by the walk, returning from the opposite direction from which he had left.

With Alister now in hand, the two reversed back along the path from which Billy had just come, what he had most recently confirmed to be in place. Soon they fetched up against the back of the house, facing a small, darkened park housing one of the city’s many statues. Seeing Billy point to a balcony and an almost ladder like trellis, Alister began climbing, not seeing his brother glance about nervously after spotting the white of the nightgown peeking out from beneath his dress, almost like a signal flag. After hauling himself over the iron railing, it proved a short wait for Billy, who pulled a key from around his neck, to join him. They moved to the sturdy wooden door leading into the house. It opened smoothly, Billy having ensured the hinges and lock were well oiled during his previous visits.

Inside Forest’s suite, the middle of the three children’s suites, just as he had been the middle child, the two quietly waited, listening to see if their entrance had been noticed. Deciding everything was fine, Billy nodded for Alister to get ready, which led to the younger brother removing his cloak and dress, handing both to his brother to be stuffed into a cupboard. Next, he removed the ribbon from his hair, to be exchanged for the nightcap in Billy’s coat pocket, first letting his pin-curled hair fall down, before gathering most of it underneath the cap. He was ready.

Ghosting along behind Billy, Alister followed him through to the next suite, Eleanor’s, the simple lock on the door adjoining the two rooms proving no hindrance to Billy’s talents. It was a test of his will. He did not believe in ghosts, yet he felt if they did exist, this would be the moment he found out about them. But it was just another quiet and dark room, no spirits waiting to avenge his usurpation, its emptiness offering the only impact upon his psyche.

Cracking the door open a slit, Billy looked for restless residents. Finding none, he opened it wider, gesturing Alister out on the landing surrounding the wide and open staircase down to the main floor and holding the doors to the family’s suites, only one of which was occupied. It was here Eleanor would haunt.

Arriving at the bookshelf, chosen by Billy as to where he should first be spotted, he looked about in approval. From here he could see almost everything; the doors to the other suites, the open area at the bottom of the stairs, many of the doors on the third floor, where the guest rooms and servant’s quarters were found, and he could even see the stairs, at the far wall, used by those servants. Yet, at the same time, it was close to the escape of Eleanor’s room and within range of whispered orders from Billy. He turned, looked back to nod at his brother, then winced as Billy slammed Eleanor’s door shut, almost immediately opening it again to share the watch.

A nervous wait began, wondering if anybody had heard the noise, if it had woken people from their slumber, if they would come to investigate, or if it would be treated as just another night sound in the big house. In the end, Alister did not need Billy’s hissed warning to hear the clumping walk, he been told to expect from Charles, the night doorman. Turning as if looking for a book in the bookshelf, he did not flinch as the glow of the man’s lantern crept upwards from the floor below.

He waited.

“Now.”

At the whispered command, Alister assumed his most pathetic look, which he used while begging, then turned, looking over the railing towards where the gaping man stood. Watching Charles’ eyes widen and his mouth drop, Alister stared, no change in his own expression. Only when the man took an involuntary step forward, did he react. Letting a pout, which Percival had told him was a common fixture on Eleanor’s own face whenever she was caught doing something improper, wash away the pathetic look, he turned away from the man, almost seeming to glide in his nightgown, Alister moved to and through Eleanor’s door, Billy slamming it shut behind him.

Now was the time for hurry, the two scurried through into Forest’s room, locking this door behind them, waiting to hear if curiosity or fear would earn pride of place in Charles’ thoughts. At first it seemed the second, but then they heard the clumps on the landing outside Forest’s door, lantern light sneaking underneath, accompanied by a steady mutter. “It’s the drink. Has to be the drink. I cannot of seen the young miss. I cannot have.”

Following this, they heard the door to Eleanor’s open, though the doorman did not enter, seemingly content to only look inside. Seeing nothing amiss, Charles closed it again and retreat the way he had come, still muttering. “See Charles, yer just being daft. It wasn’t the young miss, just yer imagination.”

This was as much as they had hoped to accomplish for their night, to create a mystery, it was time to leave. Sharing a grin, they reversed the steps of their arrival, and made their way back to Percival’s. Only then did they let lose the laughter that had been building up inside.

***

The second night of their haunting was an exact replica of the first. They took the third day off, only to repeat it on the fourth. On the fifth they received no response, no matter how many times they slammed the door. Worried, they retreated back to Percival’s, questioning what had gone wrong.

That mystery was solved the next day, when Billy made his way to the tavern that the always talkative Charles visited during the afternoon, to have a drink with his cronies. There he overheard the man lamenting how nobody believed that he had seen Miss Eleanor’s ghost and that he was now ignoring her when she crossed back into the land of the living. Discussing this at supper that evening, the three conspirators decided it was time to go after their second target, the maids. Despite their admiration for the women’s victory over dust, even in the unused suites of the dead children, which allowed the haunters to move about without leaving sign of their mischief.

So one night later, the two brothers once more found themselves in the house and Eleanor’s suite. But this time they had work to do before they drew any attention to their presence.

Opening the door to the bed chamber off the sitting room, the two entered and began opening closets until Alister spotted what they were after, a white linen nightgown, alike enough to the one he wore as to make no difference. Taking the somewhat musty item from where it hung, he arranged it upon the quilt as if it held someone’s sleeping form. Meanwhile Billy opened the curtains in both rooms, letting the full moon shine in, making both nightgowns seem to glow. Lastly, Alister returned to the sitting room, where he took a book of Shakespeare's sonnets, which Percival had informed them was Eleanor’s favourite, from the desk, back into the bed chamber. There, struggling with his poor reading skills, taught to him using the family Bible by his mother, though it had long ago disappeared, he looked for Sonnet LVII, again per Percival’s recommendation. Finding it marked by a folded piece of paper, he passed that to Billy to be shoved out of sight into a pocket, he sat the book, opened to the sonnet, on a pillow.

Taking a deep breath, trying to dispel his nerves, Alister went through the ingrained procedure of opening the door to the landing. However, this time he did not move out onto the landing, instead he stood within its frame, only his shadow, cast by the pale beams of moonlight, establishing his presence outside of Eleanor’s rooms. There he waited, eyes darting about, watching for anybody, while Billy ventured back into the bed chamber to pull a wire, connected to a bell in the room of one of the maids.

They waited, but there was no reaction. Again Billy pulled the wire, then one more time. Alister had begun to think that the bell had been disconnected when he notice a crack appear in the door frame of one of the third floor’s rooms. Turning his gaze towards it, the pout in place, he watched as that crack grew larger, candle-light filling it, then the room’s occupant, cautiously crept out, hesitantly looking over the banister, and locking gazes with Alister.

She screamed.

Not having expected this reaction, Alister quickly backed into the room, turning a questioning look towards Billy. His brother did not even stop to think, rushing into Forest’s room, locking the door as soon as Alister followed. Opening the cupboard he dug out Alister’s old dress and tossed it to him. Catching the urgency, the younger brother spared no time pulling it over his head, not worrying about the nightcap. Just as quickly he wrapped the cloak around him, now hearing shouted questions from beyond the suite’s door. They had stirred up the rat’s nest, it was best to get out quickly. On the balcony, the door locked behind them, Billy did not even wait for Alister to climb down the trellis, instead he picked his brother up and like a trapeze artist, hung him over the side of the railing, dropping him the last number of feet, to tumble upon his bum. In turn, he barely touched more than three of the trellis’ rungs before he jumped down, landing in a crouch, once more picking up Alister, who was holding a foot, a grimace on his face, Billy ran for the shadows, ducking into the alley they used every time they had ghosted into the townhouse.

There he set Alister down, offering his arm as support as they turned to look at the house, watching lantern light chase away moonlight from within Eleanor’s room. Three men spilled out onto her balcony, the same as Forest’s, to look into the dark. One was Charles, who could be heard saying his told-ya-so's, but it was at the other two that Alister looked, guessing one to be his father. His eyes settled upon the thinner of the pair, with dark hair, and features somewhat coarser than his or Eleanor’s, though similar to his son’s, if the portraits of the three children, hanging at the top of the stairs, were to be believed.

And in this moment he realized he felt nothing towards the man. No love, no hate, no disgust, nothing. To Alister he was just another rich bastard who cared not a bit if he and Billy lived or died.

Currently, Leroy Chester did not appear the debonair gentleman he had been reported to be. Standing in his nightshirt, he wildly looked about, finally snapping at Charles. “Quiet man, I’m tired of your blathering. And Doris, do be quiet as well, I’m trying to think.”

The sobbing, which they had heard coming through the balcony door, choked off. A plaintive voice replacing it. “It was just too horrible, Master Leroy, the young Miss standing there looking so sad. My heart broke all over again.”

“Nonsense, it was just the moonlight.” He answered, sounding much less sure of himself than he wished to appear.

“But, how do you explain the bell, and Miss Eleanor’s nightgown, and favourite book?”

Pausing to come up with an answer, Leroy Chester suddenly realized he was standing out in the open, on display for all the world to see his problems. Decorum reared its head, and he waved the two inside, closing the door, and shutting away the rest of the conversation from Alister and Billy’s ears.

“Damn, sorry, Ali. Are you okay?”

“Umm, I think so, though I may have twisted my ankle when I hit the ground.”

“Can you walk?”

“If you give me hand, I think I can.”

“Okay, we better get going. Hisself is going to be quite interested in hearing about this.”

“Aye, we sure stirred them up.”

***

Hearing what happened put a large smile on Percival’s face, but he also decided that it was best to lay low for the next while. Not that Alister was fit for ghosting about, his ankle having swollen to triple its normal size. So while he convalesced, the two men were out and about seeking for any hints of what was going on in the Chester household. It did not take them long to hear rumours of what had happened from multiple sources. It kept Percival in a good mood for the next three days, as the rumours swirled. But then he grew quieter, secretive, coming back to the house later each night.

His fellow conspirators, as conspirators are want to do, grew suspicious, wondering if he was working counter to their own purposes. They knew it to be possible, even probable, for they had received a reminder of how treacherous the Life Guards officer could be.

Such a simple thing. A piece of paper, seemingly nothing more than a bookmark, carried away since leaving it behind would look out of place in their carefully constructed scene in Eleanor’s bed chamber. Yet when they finally took the time to read what Eleanor had written on that simple piece of paper, they realized it was exactly the type of thing that Eleanor’s ghost would want to be found, for it contained the name of her love, who had abandoned her, despite her protecting his own name. Apparently Cousin Percival had used the key for purposes other than helping the drunken Forest home.

Alister and Billy kept this find to themselves, just as Percival kept his plans away from them. They only learned of those via gossip, which told of how the concerned nephew had rushed to his uncle’s side when he heard the terrible rumours. How it had been he who had found a medium willing to keep the matter quiet, to come to Chester house and deal with the ghost of Eleanor. Apparently it had been successful, because there had been no sightings since.

Uncle Leroy proved appreciative, as the two finally found out two weeks after their last escapade. While eating their evening meal, the first together in a days, Percival said, “Well I received a surprise today. An invitation, from dear Uncle Leroy, to spend the weekend with him at his country home.”

“And why would he suddenly do that?” Alister asked.

“I’m guessing that his encounter with the other side made him more appreciative of family on this side.”

“Cut the crap, Percival.” Billy said with a growl. “We know all about your recent dealings with him.”

“And so?” Percival asked, unconcerned, as if he had been expecting this conversation.

“Well you seem to be on your way ta getting what you wanted out of this deal. But what about Ali and me?”

“You will be looked after, rest assured. I am trying to making myself indispensable to Uncle Leroy, for he seems to lost much of his fire. Once I have done that, you will be amply rewarded. Just as I had to wait for you two to plant such a fine crop, now it’s your turn to wait while I harvest it. Of course, you can continue to make use of my hospitality while you wait.”

He then steered the conversation into humorous gossip about the peccadillos of his fellow officers. The two brothers went along with this, knowing they would get nothing more from him. But when he left them to find his bed, Billy looked at his brother and whispered what was on both their minds.

“Hisself don’t need you and me anymore, Ali.”

“Just like he didn’t need Tommy and Dick anymore.”

They had been expecting this day to come and had put a plan in place. Thus, during the night, of the day when Percival and his uncle traveled into the country, the two made one more use of the Forest’s key and entered Chester House. This time it was not for haunting, even Alister wore an old pair of trousers found in the attic, probably from when Percival had been a boy. No, it was to fill the two carpet bags from Madame Heston’s and two more found at the same time as the pants with jewelry and items of gold and silver.

It was quite a haul, Billy had done a good job scouting for more than how best to implement a haunting.

***

The news of the robbery reached the Chester estate late the following afternoon, outraging both its Master and his guest. Percival volunteered to ride immediately to the city, even though it would be late at night before he could arrive, but he promised to look into the matter as early as possible the next day. His uncle accepted the offer with pleasure, knowing such a ride was for a younger man and questioning why he had never noticed this helpful side in his nephew before.

Percival, in turn, had a ride fueled by anger, knowing who was behind the robbery and wishing he had already gotten rid of the pair of brothers. He would only wait to find the goods, before he dealt with them. Hoping they had not had time to fly the coop, he did not stop at the regimental stables to drop off his horse. Instead he rode straight through the city to his house, leaving the poor beast tied up outside while he rushed inside to confront Alister and Billy, wishing he had thought to take his pistol with him to the country. Looking about, the house seemed as empty as when he had lived here alone, before offering his hospitality to the thieves.

Fuming, he shouted. “Alister and Billy, where are you two?”

There was no response, so he shouted again and again, until his rage had begun to cool. Realizing that they were gone.

“Dear, Dear Percy, you are finally home.”

Startled, by the feminine voice, his gaze darted towards the stairs to see Ali descending. But an Ali he had never seen before, looking more like Eleanor than ever before. The boy was dressed as if he had just finished posing for the portrait that hung on the second floor of the Chester townhouse or at a ball. His hair swept up with the assistance of numerous combs, curls sneaking out at ears and onto forehead. Wearing a short-sleeved, evening gown of ivory silk, which dipped low to hint at what was not there, his slender neck circled by three strands of pearls matching the strings around each long-gloved wrist. He was a shocking vision of loveliness as he almost floated down the stairs, his embroidered, silver, satin slippers peeking out from the hems of his skirts.

“Ali, why are you dressed like that?”

“Oh, Dear Percy, you truly are my hero, as you always had promised me you would be. For have you not finally freed me of the cruel shackles that bound me to my father’s accursed house?”

“Ali?”

“No, it is I, your Sweet Ela.”

“Ela? No, you’re Ali, what is the meaning of this?”

“Ali? Who is this Ali of whom you speak? Have you forsaken me for another, I would never do that to you, Dear Percy. Did I not prove it so, when I held your name in my heart, never giving it up to my father, as the symbol of our love grew inside me? I was true to the end, you must know that, don’t you, Dear Percy?”

Percival just stared, he knew this could not be Eleanor, he was a modern gentleman, he did not believe in ghosts. It was Ali. Yet she, no he, looked so perfect, exactly as Eleanor had looked on that night he had decided to seduce her, his first act of revenge against his hated uncle, who had done nothing to help his parents as they lay on their death beds. And how did Ali know his darkest secret? Only he and Eleanor had known the truth. If others had known, surely Uncle Leroy would have known and conducted his own revenge already.

It was almost as if this was Ela.

But no, that was impossible. It could not be. This was Ali, Alister, the beggar boy playing tricks.

He just needed to convince himself, let his intelligence conquer his imagination. He just needed that one thread to grasp, to pull, to unravel the mystery before him. And he knew the picture was not perfect, something was missing, what was it?

The shawl! Eleanor had worn a matching shawl with the gown, against the cold. It had even been included when sitting for the portrait painter. Yes, he needed to latch onto the missing shawl.

But before he could saying anything, something flickered before his eyes. He felt it wrap around his throat. He had forgotten Billy, distracted as he had been by Alister. Reaching up, he tried to squeeze fingers between the skin at his throat and the silken noose, of the missing shawl. He swung a fist backwards, but all he heard was a grunt, Billy undeterred in squeezing the life from him. Struggling, he watched Alister reach the bottom of the stairs and approach. Desperately he reached out, seeking any help.

Alister just stared, before speaking in his own voice. “Really Percival, you don’t believe in ghosts? Do you?”

Brushing aside the reaching hand, Alister took one more step forward, to plant a delicate fist in the stomach of the struggling man. It knocked both the wind and fight from him, causing him to slump. Yet Billy did not let this distract him, instead taking the opportunity to plant a knee in the man’s back, gaining more leverage with the silk, which was wrapped almost as cruelly about his hands as Percival’s neck. Unwilling to chance letting go, he held on as all struggles ceased, then he held on even longer as the body became a limp corpse. Only when Alister nodded at him, did he finally stop.

“Leave the shawl around his neck, Billy. Maybe we can convince them it was Eleanor’s final revenge. Here, can you help me with the buttons of the dress, I think it should stay with the shawl.”

“Criminy, Ali, of course. If’n we don’t, I may end up thinking you actually are Miss Eleanor.”

“Well that was the reasoning behind raiding her closet, as well as her jewelry box. But Madame Heston did take it to another level, didn’t she, and on such short notice. I’ll be right back, I need to get my things.”

Arranging the dress to lie beside the sprawled corpse of Percival, Alister rushed up the stairs, coming down only moments later after having put on his green dress and coat, carrying the two garment bags, once again full of clothes, along with the better quality of jewelry which Billy had hocked during the day, raising the funds needed for their escape. He also carried Eleanor’s letter, but that soon fluttered down to lay upon the dress.

“So, Big Brother, what’s the plan?”

“I’ve got us a room at The Turtledove. The rest of our things are there. The inn’s near where the Portsmouth coach starts out in the morning. We have tickets on it tomorrow. In Portsmouth we should be able to catch a ship to America.”

“America? I think I will like that. Hopefully I will be able to shed these skirts once and for all.”

“You can do it tonight if you want?”

“I do, but it will be better cover for us to disguise ourselves as husband and wife for the time being. I’ve lasted this long, surely I can handle however long it will take.”

“It’s up to you, Ali.”

“Yes. Well I guess that’s it then. Time to go.”

Letting Billy take the two bags, Alister held the door, looking inside for a moment, staring at their recent partner, and said, “It was him or us, Billy. I’m sure he realized that.”

Billy just grunted, though he looked at the horse waiting out front. “You know, I really hope someone comes along to look after that horse. It’s just not right ta leave a fine beast like that in such shape.”

The End