A Bully in d'Bronx

[teddi]

Begin? Well I thought that that was kind’a dumb for her to say, what in the hell did she think we were doing now?  Anyhow’s all I could do was to mutter back at her ”Yea, right, begin whatever” to which she said “Yes Jo, we begin whatever” back at me.  I could lie and tell ya that I didn’t think about running away but I won’t; besides, the sinking feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach about having to dress like a girl, for even once, was making me feel less inclined to say anything else which might come back at me.  So there I sat, knowing that two girls were watching me get the hair in my eyebrows yanked out one hair at a time and I knew without even lookin’ at ‘em that they were all grins and giggles about it all ‘cause I heard them after each time Mrs. McCandle’d pulled one out’a my head.  



Anyhow, just sitting there with a head full of wet hair with someone picking and pulling at my face made me all the more antsy because I was beginning to feel like a bug under a microscope being watched and prodded by some mad lady scientist who was about to perform a grand experiment on some kind of trapped creature: except that in this case the creature, me, knew what was gonna happen to it and was yelling back to himself “Help me, help me” before anyone knew it even happened.  I was toast and that’s the faraway look I pictured myself of what I was gonna look like after this was all over:  I’d be some sorta “Creature From the Black Lagoon” something to run away from; or maybe “The Thing... boy…transformed into mutant sissy.”  All I knew was that once she was done with me that I wouldn’t be me again; I’d be something else or worse like outta Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers:  changed into something weird, repulsive and too gruesome to look at but interesting enough even for Ming the Merciless’ Klytus to later make fun of and then squash but only after Ming’d let Princess Aura torture him into submission one hair at a time.



So I sat there with Princess Aura frittering away at my eyes while her henchmen were whispering like two goody two shoes back and forth to each other.   As for the evil Princess, I noticed that for some reason or other, she liked to go “Hmmm or ahh hah” after each time she jerked a hair out like there was something magical that was attached to it that she’d just found at the end of it but then go right on and then talk to herself with a “Yes, now that one right there, don’t move and ahh hah…wait…almost there.  Wait, just a little more…let’s see now…yes, this one will do.  Hmmm…hmmm….o.k.  Let’s see how you…ohh….well yes…the little one right there will have to go too…yes and you too.”  I guess it was about after the umpteenth time that I got the nerve up to ask her “Hey wait a sec…stop.  Don’t, don’t you think that maybe that ya pulled too many out?  Well?”  I waited for her to answer, didn’t hear jack and was about to open my yap again but before I did she went and said “Jo, no.  Besides having a full head of hair, your eyebrows are something else and while it may seem to you that I’ve gone off and plucked too many, I haven’t and there are plenty left that hint that you’re a boy while not making you look too feminine; just a hint.   Once you’ve looked in a mirror you’ll notice the dozen or so brutish ones over each eye are those that I’ve taken.  Now then, lift your chin up and let’s have a final look” she said.



 Well, I tried to do what she wanted…look at her and only her…but naturally,  I really kept trying to sneak a peek over to where Becky and Sam were and every time I did look over Mrs. McCandle’d turn my head right back at her.  I mean, I knew that if I was gonna look like a stupid fruitcake then I figured that it’d be easy enough to know right away just by looking at ‘em.  I just didn’t expect them to act like they did.  No silly giggly squeals or screaming at me “Look at youuuuu! or Ooooooh.”  No, it wasn’t anything like that:  it was worse.  They were stone cold quiet.  They just sat there and stared at me like they’d seen something that they didn’t know anything about (which I guess thinking back that as for me that that was true) and were trying to make up their minds about whether or not I was really some kind’a jerkazoid that they’d want’a be seen with.  Anyhow, it was hard for me to read the minds of the two mannequins who did nothing but stare at me and just as I was about to ask them “What in the hell are you guys looking at?” when Mrs. McCandle up and gets in the next couple of words with “Jo, I know what you’re thinking but don’t worry about what they think you look like, believe me, you look fine; nothing spectacular mind you but surprisingly most passable.  That’s what their looking at.”  



I took a quick gander over to the two just in time to see them nod with their mouths dropped wide open just like they were puppets and just like that the “Inquisitor” up and turns my head back around to look at her and goes on with “Jo, really, you look fine.  I know it may seem to you that I’ve gone overboard but I’ve not…still…the rest I’ve left, which even for a tomboy is quite a bit but I won’t be taking anymore.  What’s done will have to do.”  For a second I thought that that was reasonable until she went on with “Now then” and before I could say anything kept right on with “For the next part you’ll have to keep your eyes closed tight and listen to what I’ll need you need to do.”  Well, I thought she meant to close my eyes then and there so I did what she asked only to hear everyone laughing as soon as I did and that when she said “No, Jo, it’s o.k. to keep your eyes open until I give you some cotton balls.  It’s when I’m finished pining you that you’ll press them firmly against both of your eyes and whatever you do if one gets wet keep your eye closed and ask for another but if something gets in your eyes whatever else you do, don’t rub them.”



I was worried so I asked “Why…what for?  What’s pining?   Why should I do that?”



“Jo, it’s because I asked you to that’s why.  It will be easier to explain what it is while I’m doing it; now sit still and hush” she says while pressing a finger to my lips which for me was a first because no one ever told me to shut the hell up that way or nice before.  Anyway she keeps on talking but not to me it was “Rebecca, be a dear, in my closet on the second shelf to the right are my rollers, I need one, would you…”  



“Right, I know mom:  medium?  Right?  Be right back and Sam…you stay.” And with that I could hear the sound of her pushing back on the chair she was sitting in and knew she must’ve been in some kind of hurry ‘cause even the table groaned when it scraped the floor when she pushed herself away from it while talking to Sam who straight out barked right back at her with “Beck, I’m not a dog, but woof woof.  Feel better?”



Even I knew that that was supposed to be a sarcastic joke between the two but I was more concerned with what was gonna happen to me.  It was me that they’re gonna watch whatever it was that was gonna happen too.  Sure I thought…I’m brave enough…and if I’m gonna be tortured I won’t cry but why should I need cotton to cover my eyes?  I’d sure like to see what it was that they was gonna do me.”  I really thought it wasn’t right.  I mean, only a real sissy would close his eyes.  And why in the hell would they get wet; I mean I’m not a sissy.  A sissy would cry for his mommy:  of course, inside I knew that the very last thing I wanted was to cry; especially for her.



Trying to sort all of this crap out was making my head spin and at the time it didn’t help at all when Sam went yanked my chain when she went and prissied up to me in sing song with “I knowww what’s gonnnnna happennnn to youuuu-oooh:  you’rrrrre gon….na get pi—iii-ned …..”



Right then and there I decided that that wasn’t gonna happen.  Of course, her idea of what she was teasing me about and my idea of what I thought she was threatening me with were two different things and that’s when I up and showed everyone how damn stupid I was when I went off on her with “No way!  Deals off!!!  I’m outta here!  There ain’t no way I’m gonna let you or anybody else put anymore pins or needles in me!”  That bit of news being said I tried to bolt but couldn’t shake the death grip that for some reason Mrs. McCandle suddenly had on me and in-between me trying to scram I was yelling a quick “Lem’me go!” at her while Sam got my first salvo of a firm and quick “Screw you you jerk!!!  Drop dead!” targeted right at her followed by a gush of cuss words that kept on coming starting off with “You’re nothing but a stupid bitch!!!!   Of course I kept it with a whole lot of other stuff that I thought sort of just fit right in that I knew was meant for girls that I’d picked up on from some of the customers while working on the boardwalk.  I have to admit, that at the time I didn’t know what most any of them all meant except that they were words a guy could throw out and use in a tight spot or in a fight or when he just needed to yell out loud to anyone else or no one else in particular:  at least that’s what I thought until they were all explained to me;  but that was later, after things got settled down that is.



Anyhow, explaining what happened after that is simple enough.  I blubbered and yelled ‘till I turned blue and doing all that while Mrs. McCandle was trying to calm me down by talking to me; most of which I ignored because I didn’t hear most of anything of what she said or for a fact didn’t really want to.  As for Sam, she’d backed away from me when I started cussing at her and started crying while boo-hooing like I did something bad to her while bawling and blubbering at me “You…you hurt my feelings!” over and over again.



Of course, I’m thinking like “I heard ya the first time and I like really care about your feelings” while at the same time thinking “Back at ya!!!  Not that mine didn’t really matter to you then either!”  Anyhow it all came down to me running outta gas just about the same time I hear Becky giving Sam a boatload of grief and razzing her about making fun of me; which was news to me ‘cause I really thought that what she said was really a threat.  Well it really turns out it was both.  



Of course, there are two sides to every story:  the one that ya think you know about and the other one.    My side, once Mrs. McCandle heard it, put a damper on anything that she was gonna do to me because of me mouthing off to ‘em both.  Still, once it was all settled, I really still thought that Sam deserved it, my mouthing off to her, and just for the record even if I did apologize to her like I did later on because I sorta  had to, she still held a grudge and got me back good with a dirty trick later.   But like I was saying, right then and there things got calmed down enough for it all to be explained to me; about what being pinned really meant and not something that my mom had gone and done to me just to get me to say “I love you mommy”  back to her.



Sitting there I felt kinda dumb when it was explained that what was gonna happen had nothing to do with needles or pins; at least not the kind that ya get stuck with.  It was when she, Mrs. McCandle, asked me “Jo, how on earth would think that I would go and stick you with either a pin or a needle?”  That I didn’t answer her right away really didn’t make much of a difference, at least to me that is, ‘cause she almost jumps down my throat when she kina barks at me “No, don’t say a word.  We’ll be discussing the matter later; it’ll keep”  and then before I can tell her “O.K. or thanks” she goes on and tells me all that was gonna happen and why.  Like first that she was gonna twist almost every hair on my head just a little bit of it at a time around one of her fingers and then put a bobby pin on it which sounded pretty cornball to me; especially after I had gone to all the trouble to keep it all in place, nice and straight with all the brylcreem I’d been using.   “That” she said “will be the first of what will happen after which I’ll be using just one roller for the hair above your forehead.”  



Really, I wasn’t all too keen on any of this and didn’t have a clue about what “adding volume” anywhere on my head had anything in the world to do with my hair.



The blank look on my face told her I didn’t know what in the hell she was talking about or what was gonna happen:  which thinking back on it, was for the better, ‘cause if I knew any more about what I’d look like after maybe I wouldn’t have just sat there.  Especially after she promised it wouldn’t hurt.  I mean her doing it wasn’t like getting slapped around  like I was used too or having someone jab you with a sewing needle or making ya sit on a pin cushion in your underwear because they wanted you to say things back to them that you really didn’t mean and wouldn’t stop hurting ya until ya did.  All I knew was that one way or another I was still trapped and even if it wasn’t supposed to hurt that I’d wind up crying about it all anyway after it was done ‘cause I knew that I’d be one step closer to looking like a girl.  Turns out she told me the truth except for the fact that after I seen what she went and did… it hurt me anyway, even more than the smelly stuff that she squirted all over my head which she went and warned me about before she did it by telling me “Jo, we’ll need to be careful; if the solution gets in your eyes it will burn the bejezus out of you.”  It stunk like ammonia.



Well, long story short, not only did it really stink but she was right:   it burned real good.  Oh yea sure, I yelled that “It got in my eyes!!!  It got in my eyes!!!!” a couple of times or more and just as quick someone either Becky or Sam would tell me to “Keep your eyes shut and wipe with this”  and then hand me a wet and cold wash cloth to wipe away the burning and then just as quick another handful of cotton so I could keep on pressing the stuff up against my eyes.  It took a while to get all of the junk out of a squeeze bottle and it didn’t help that it went down my back either.   Ms. McCandle told me that “It’ll take about ten or fifteen minutes for the solution to work in the meantime you’ll have to sit still” which I did without answering any questions from either Becky or Sam about anything except stuff that had to do with what I’d like to do after Mrs. McCandle’d finished with what they both said was a “perm.”    



That she had to wash my hair again before she did was beside the point; in fact, before she “gave” me “it” she said that she had to wash my hair again before she did it because there was still a good amount of Brylcreem left on it that hadn’t washed clean and then went and told me “Actually Jo, you’re hair has a natural wave to it.”  I mean I was sitting there listening to her tell me something that I already knew about and tried to get rid of:  I didn’t want naturally wavy hair that tried to curl itself up like some pig’s tail.  I wanted my hair to look boss.



The bad thing was that with all the extra time that it took to do all of the washing and the re-washing and then the drying and then the curling and then getting pinned followed by the swamp smelling gunk being dumped on ya and then sitting with it on for god knows how long only then having something else called a neutralizer poured all over your head and having it go into your eyes like the first stuff did made me antsy enough to start to realize that I really, really needed to take a whiz.



It was when my head went under the sink’s faucet for the umpteenth time that I couldn’t hold back anymore and it happened.



_____________________

If you are reading this now, think about it.  Without support you may soon not be able to.

[teddi]

(I thought I did this before...this is like deja vu all over again).



There was no place to run or hide.  Try as I might, fidgeting from left foot to right or even crossing my legs back’n forth while trying to bend my knees or doing both at the same time - didn’t do no good:  bottom  line,  me really trying to hold it back wasn’t gonna work.  What made matters worse was that the tap water was getting on up into my nose and that made me start to sputter and hack up a storm which sort’a worked against me trying not to do something that I knew was gonna happen anyway. In the back of my mind was the fact that two girls were watchin’ me dance ‘n squirm around.  Hell, I was no rocket scientist but I knew they were both staring at me like I was tryin’ to do a really bad impression of the shimmy.   I mean I could almost feel them drilling holes right through me almost, with my head shoved under a tap and the water running hard enough to almost drown me and my butt moving like it was keeping time to another tune that I kept hearing on WABC 770 radio called “In the Mood.”  ‘Course for me that was the old stuff that ya always heard but for what was happening it sort’a fit right in..



Looking back at it…in the long run,  it wouldn’t have made no difference no how, but at the time just the thought of what was about to happen – takin’ a whiz right in front of everyone and knowing that they knew it and were watchin’ me while I did it- made me think that that would be the most awful thing to have to do and really at the time for me - it was.   It didn’t help at all when Mrs. McCandle went on and tells me “Jo, if you don’t stop moving around we’ll never get done; so hold still now and I mean it.”  I told her later on that it was easy enough for her to tell me that “…because not only are ya bigger than me, but ya had a death grip on my neck and right with it you’re holding my head right under the faucet with it going full blast.  I was thinking that you were all about drowning me!”  I remember her smiling back at me and joking around with me after I told her that.  ‘Course her giggling when she told me “Jo, if I’d have known you were that close to drowning I’d have done a proper job of it” made me think that maybe she wasn’t all that bad.  I’d find out later how right that was but that was later on.  



Anyhow like I was saying, ya gotta know I was thinking that if my head was all wet “…then the rest of me might be pretty close to being there too.”   ‘Cepting it really wasn’t.   And then when I tried to yell out “Stop! I’m getting all wet!”  Well, that’s when she up and tells me “Nonsense, no such thing is happening” and that “it’s just your imagination running wild.”  I guess her “wild” was one word you could’a used to describe it:  but…frantic…would’ve been my choice; because I knew there was no way out of what was happening.   I mean being a guy and all - I knew that from what happened a couple a times before – you know the feeling – if you’re a guy that is- that when I was desperate and hadda go real bad that I could always hold out and if it got a lot worse that there were ways to cut loose without anyone knowing about it.   Well …thinking about it…maybe ya don’t.    See, in the city even if there isn’t really a bathroom close by to go to, if ya gotta take a whiz, there’s always an easy way out.   I mean, not because you’d find a bathroom to use (hell no-no one in their right mind would’ve let ya into their apartment to use theirs if’n they didn’t know ya, and if ya went into just any corner drugstore or market and asked to use theirs they’d just tell ya to go to hell and find somewhere else to go; and no, ya didn’t whiz your pants for obvious reasons.  The unspoken truth was was because you could always duck on in back into an alley and find a dark corner somewhere outta sight.   Think about it…there were a whole lot more alleys to go into than there were phone booths on corners that ya hadda walk a whole block or more to get to.



 I mean, you just knew that if you were walking the sidewalk that you could always just sorta drop on in outta sight:  that is if you knew the neighborhood and looked real close, there was always an alley waiting just around a corner.  Rule of thumb was ya walk in… always cool…like ya been there before…you know, like a hundred times and ya owned the place:  stroll right in, do what ya hadda do and then just turn around and walk away and la-dee-da there ya have it.  



No muss no fuss no flush – just shake it and then badda bing badda boom you’re about out and one cool cat because with the zip after y’ur done, ya put yourself away,  pat y’self down and strut out like nothing ever happened…ya don’t even stop to look around and almost dare anybody to say anything to ya and then sh-boom…you’re on your way.



But enough of me skippin’ around the point because like I said that’s when it happened:  what made matters worse was that my “Ohhh jeez” was just loud enough for the Bobbsey twins who were standing right behind me to hear it.  It sure as hell didn’t help me one bit when I heard them right off start whisperin’ in girl talk all the things that they say under their breath just loud enough that they tease you for you to hear but deny that they ever said anything like it when you tell them to “Shut up!”  Ya know it’s always what they do to ya, smile, shrug their shoulders and then deny that they ever said anything with a question riht back at ya like “Shaddup?  What are talking about?  Ohh, excuse me…did you mean “shut up?”   Shut up, what for?”  I mean it’s like what ya really did hear wasn’t what they really said sort’a like a politician when he tells a to “trust” him...right.    I mean really, ya know what ya heard, to me it was like:  “Sam…Look’t…Ohh yea Beck…I see it too….wow.   He’s going.  Yea…shhhhhsh.   Don’t shhhsh me.  Well then… O.K.  I know I know….cute butt especially when he wiggles it…but…Ohh Beck this is too much.  I can’t wait.  For what? You know for what…for later…like after?  Ya know? Yea Sam I know-shut up already.    You shut up. So? So Einstein ya think we can help right off?    Don’t see why not.  Yea sooner or later we’d get to do it.  Right?  We?  Yea, we.  We..you-me like we talked about before when we were out shopping.  O.K.?  Right? Well?  Yea, right,  O.K. already just shut up and watch.  Look…c’mhere look’t from this angle - then scoot just around to the front – see it?  Yea, that’s….”



 It was just after that when I heard them both chuckle out “neeeeat-o!” at the same time.  I remember that ‘cause it was like listening to WQXR broadcasting in what they called “the new stereophonic sound” which they said was supposed to be way much better than hi-fi; sure, that may have been true but at the time the only thing I was thinking about was how I was gonna turn around and face ‘em both.  I tried to figure out the best way to handle it but nothing came to mind except for me thinking that I’d like to be somewhere else; but since I couldn’t wish myself away or for the ground to open up and swallow me whole I did the only thing that I thought of and that was to close my eyes and keep ‘em closed.   It was when Mrs. McCandle’d dropped a towel on my head and started to work me over with it that I thought that that was just about the best thing that ever happened to me.   “Good” I thought “now maybe they’ll just go away and leave me alone.”   Course it was almost like finding gold at the end of the rainbow ‘cause there was no such luck.

 

Naturally, things being what they were it was only going to be a matter of time before I had to face them which I did a couple’a minutes later but only after I got up the courage to open my eyes and after letting Princess Aura guide me over to sit me back down at her inquisitor’s table.  



Ya know, that even before she took the towel offa my head I knew that something was up because I heard the rustling around of a bunch of stuff.   That’s when I decided to part the white towel that was coving my face.  I found out what it was was that thing-a-ma-jig hair dryer, which was getting all set up on the table and that all of them were gonna watch me get it with it.  I mean here I am and I look on out and there was this grey twisty hose all hooked up to this machine at one end and some big- plastic bag hooked on to it at the other.    I thought about movin’ and duck’n for cover but didn’t.



Let me tell ya, sitting at a table like I was and opening my eyes to find two girls grinning at me from ear to ear was a little scary;   because while they can stare holes through ya they’re thinking about what their gonna do to you which has to do with the stuff that’s setting right between your legs.   And that’s what they did…they just stared and smiled at me with the biggest grins on their faces for the longest time without saying a damn thing.     Thinking back on it, I think maybe that I should’a had a blind fold.  It was after Princess Aura’d put Ming’s “Desiccation Bowl” on my head and pulled the ends to some cord to make the chamber even tighter that I heard Beck  bet Sam “Bet ya first turn.  Loser watches twice.  Closest to it either way wins…flip if tied.  I’ll go first.  I say nineteen minutes.  You?”

“Well, he ain’t got much hair, compared to either of us, so I’d say seventeen.”

 “Done and done, mom you’re a witness.”  

“Witness?”

“Yup, me and Sam just bet each other firsts turns and whoever is closest wins.”

“First turns?  Wins?”

“Yea, on how long it’ll take to dry his hair.”

Just as she turned on Ming’s Infernal Inferno she asks them like she’s playing dumb “I understood that part.  It’s the “turns” and “wins” that I’m not too clear about.”  And with that she just started chattering back to them making it clear that “I had reached a conclusion several moments ago, that neither of you will win a thing over a bet like that.”   What more was that somewhere in the ten minute lecture she gave them with me sitting there about “preying on another’s misfortune” I found out that that was “not a character trait” that she “tolerated” which was sort’a good news to my ears.  Thing was it wasn’t all that I heard because somewhere in-between hearing that and her asking “Rebecca, how would you feel if he were to watch me getting you ready for bed too.  Would turnabout be fair?” That was when Beck sort’a went all red faced, gulped back a quick “Mother no!” and started getting antsier than I was.  As for Sam all she did was to giggle at what she’d heard; sort’a like a cat let out the bag.



Just for the record, the thing was that later on I’d find out that Beck really had a problem that she was all embarrassed about because it was about something that Mrs. McCandle’d told me before about when Mr. McCandle went MIA last year.  Me, I didn’t know mine let alone miss any sleep over him being gone so I guessed right then and there that if I had one that maybe I even liked half-way that I might get all stressed out about it like she was.  Anyhow, tweedledee and tweedledumb weren’t too happy after she got finished telling ‘em that they could both sit out the first coupl’a rounds which was like music to my ears ‘cepting the that after sitting under that dryer for a while things got hotter and I ain’t just talkin’ about what was happening to my hair.  Thing was that about two to three minutes into what Mrs. McCandle called “the drying process” she got the notion to up and take my hands and just sit there and stare at them like they were growths coming outta some  blob that she was giving the once over to.   Well, once a specimen and long story short is that she up and turns off the heater on my head and tells me that “Jo, your hands and nails will never pass for a tomboy’s.”   I figure swell she’s telling me something that I already know but that was just the start because she followed up my shrug and a nod to her with “Good,   then it’s agreed.  While you’re sitting here it will take a little work but we can change that.”  She couldn’t help but see the look on my face which was like “WHAT!!!”  and when I tried to mutter out “UHHH UHHH” up like a shot came her right hand which made me counter by tucking my chin down and in around my left shoulder while I tried to block with my left up close to my chin and nose.  All the while I made sure to set my jaw so that when she connected my teeth would still be around and then did what I’d never do in a real fight:  I closed my eyes and waited for the slug to land.



All that would have worked just fine except for the fact that that wasn’t at all what she was gonna do.  Nope.  Instead, of getting rocked into next week all I felt was one soft finger which came to rest ever so lightly on both of my lips.  I guess it could have been all of five seconds before I dared to open my eyes wondering what in the hell’d happened and when I did that’s when she said “Jo, believe me, I would never slap you in the face.  Now then, before you jump to conclusions, if you will, allow me to explain?” and after an uncertain nod from me she went ahead and said “I’m not proposing anything rash but just look at your hands, please.  Just look at them if only for a moment.  See what I see?  Look,  besides the skinned knuckles… here around the nails where the skin has grown out?   Jo, with a little white lie, the knuckles are easy enough to explain away but not those cuticles.  Jo, remember how you picked out Samantha’s nails as something wrong with the image presented you.  Would you be willing to risk it downstairs if someone else just as smart as yourself were to give you the once over?”  My immediate frown didn’t help me much ‘cause she took that as a “No I wouldn’t” which was just about giving her the green light to go ahead and do what she was fixing to do.



I guess I knew where she was going with this but just the same I was a boy not a girl; not some sissy who couldn’t take care of himself one on one or even two on one for that matter.  No, it just wasn’t right; but I hadda admit, she had a point and I was thinking to myself “No girl’s hands looked like mine and I’m proud of it” when she goes on and tells me “Sweetheart, I understand it’s difficult for you to fathom why…but all of them really need to be…well…I’ll use the word “trimmed.” I promise you there’ll be no pink or red fingernail polish; in fact they’ll be just like Rebecca’s.”



Of course, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that as soon as she says her name that I gotta go and look and sure enough there’s little Ms. Tweedledee holding out both of her hands showing her nails of to me.  Honestly, it was the first time that I ever ever even thought about looking at girls fingernails for any reason; well, I guess that I had looked a time or two, but that was only to see if they…no…forget about it… whatever I was gonna say just wouldn’t sound right.   Anyways she shows me her nails, which I already knew had no pink or red polish on ‘em; but just the same they were all bright and shiny clear:  ‘course, looking at ‘em gave me the willies so much so that I closed both of my hands into fists.



Mrs. McCandle kept on sweet talking me about how “painless” it was all going to be to which I told her “That’s easy enough for you to say.”  She agreed with a smile and telling me “You’re a smart lad…but yes it is.  Now then, if you’ll be so kind…unclench your fists and let me take both of your hands then close your eyes and dream pleasant thoughts.”

“Ya gotta be kidding me, right?”

“No. At some point Jo, you have to believe that the pleasant thoughts will come.”

So there I was:  getting my hair dried under some stupid machine that sounded louder than a Hudson letting some lady who I didn’t know from Adam do stuff to my fingers so I did what any guy would:  I closed my eyes and clamed up.

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Anyhow, there I sat wondering about a lot of stuff; trying to keep my mind off of what it was that was happening…but couldn’t.  Ya gotta know that just sittin’ there with my eyes closed, feeling someone actually paying attention to me-even if it wasn’t what ya’d call anything near normal for a boy, made me feel, well, how do ya feel when it really rubs ya the wrong way but all the same ya know that for some reason it’s the best ya ever felt?  That’s what it was that was eatin’ at me.  I knew it was all wrong but just the same it was someone holding my hand instead of whacking it five times palm up with a wooden ruler who was trying to prove a point or to raise blisters. 

All the same though I kept wondering if any of what she was doing was gonna be worth it.  I mean, I was a boy, looked like a boy – least wise I sure as hell thought I did – damn sure acted like one and for the life of me there wasn’t one thing about me that I could think of that didn’t make me one; especially the stuff that I personally knew that made me one that stuck out or hung right between my legs.  “Course, I’d never seen any girls’ naked stuff but all the same I knew that there was something that was there between their legs that I didn’t have which made them a girl; an ‘cepting the fact that at some point before they got to be old they got boobs that grew in.  But then again that was something that you could see; I mean, they poked out under their dress so that they showed and got bigger when they got older.  Well they do don’t they?  Sure thinking about them sort’a made me think of the obvious…I mean…doing this stuff wouldn’t mean that mine would just start to grow out too would it?  That thought just creeped me out. 
But enough of that, ‘cause all the while I’d been sittin’ there wondering that, after a while it kind’a all started to make sense to me about what she was doing and why.  It was the last part, the why, that really stumped me.  I mean, right now she seemed nice to me; but what about later.  Besides, deep down inside I knew better that to trust a stranger who was trying to be nice to ya.  I knew it didn’t make no never mind about some people, no I take that back, I knew that almost all the grown-ups I’d ever met were mostly mean and two faced liars and that it only took a little bit of time for the side that they really and truly didn’t want anyone else to see to come out and jump right back at ya right in the face. 

Sure, o yea, I know your sittin’ there and thinking that I’m a shmuck  for thinking something like that.  But let’s be honest, if you were the one getting his head handed to him all the time for no real reason in particular what would you be thinking about?  If it’s anything else you’re a liar because you would have’ta know that somewhere, there’s something that’s eating at whoever it is that you’re dealing with.  Problem is…finding out and then making sure that, well, o.k., you’re right … I’m skeptical or maybe more than that.   Most grown-ups I knew wouldn’tve  thought twice about stiffing me for the geetus I had stashed and a the rest of ‘em wouldn’tve given a rats arse about whether I had a place to stay or not; for sure I’d be down at the precinct lickity-split and then shipped off to the re-form school that she always threatened to send me to; and I knew that any of ‘em, especially her,  would’ve been happy to hand me over to anyone just after they’d signed the papers.  Sittin there thinking all of that sure made it seem like it was true and no surprise.  But…I knew there had to be an angle to it all.  There was something about Mrs. McCandle being nice to me that made me feel off…almost like she was trying to make up for something.  Question to me that I couldn’t finger was what?

 Problem two that I thought of that was real was one that hurt me more.  It was the way that her and Becky acted.  I’d never been around…. crap…scotch that thinking about it makes my head hurt.  What I mean to say about what I’m thinking is that I can tell that Becky more than really likes her and that she actually likes, I mean, no, that didn’t come out right and I guess it’s because of Mrs. McCandle.  Even when she tells Becky something it ain’t in the same way that I remember anyone telling me that way.  So why should I care that whatever it was that they wanted me to hear wasn’t like that at all not even one time.
So, I’m wondering while sittin’ and not trying to peek at what she’s doin’ ‘cept I know from what I’m feeling that she’s brushing something back and forth on my nails but all the same I’m sittin here wondering; does she do this for her, I mean Becky too?  I mean why should I start crying over something stupid like this? Why can’t it be something important?
‘Course right then and there it hadda be Becky that opens her yap and tells me “Look, you know, you’re weird because I know you’re upset but it doesn’t hurt; really, when mom helps me with mine, it never does.  So, you don’t have to go and cry over it.”   “Course I could’ve told her to shut the hell up but didn’t.  Nope, I just sat there, teeth clenched and just turned my head away and tried my best to wipe what was leaking outta my eyes with my free hand; but before I could finish I hear “Yea” from Sam “I really just started doing mine too and it never hurts me either; so don’t be a big sissy cry baby over it.  Jeez, ya’ big sissy ya’d think that someone was tryin’ to kill ya!”

Thankfully I hear “Girls, it might be best to let the matter drop…and that is not a request, do you both understand?”  “Yea, but mom” says Beck, “You really aren’t hurting him:  you and I know it.  I just love it when you do mine and you know I do.   It just makes me mad that….”  She’s interrupted by her mom with “Rebecca, the subject is closed and not for discussion.  And as for you Samantha, hold your tongue or you’ll be seeing yourself the way out the door straight off.  Understood?”

It was then that I decided to open my eyes, just a squint or two just enough to see ‘em both nod that they understood and then just as quick to look back and stare at me.  I would’ve told them both to take a flying leap but before I could it was Mrs. McCandle who sort’a took it from there when she said “Well, were almost there.  Jo, please…look at your fingertips.”  Which while I wasn’t none too happy about.   I did what she asked anyway after which she asked me “See where I’ve cleaned the cuticles?”  I kind’a arched my eyebrows or what I thought was left of ‘em and shrugged my shoulders.  Hell, I didn’t know a cuticle from anything and sort’a admitted it with an “Yea I guess so.”  That’s when she tells me “Jo, the cuticle is or was the dead skin growing out closest to the nails.  See here” she said while now pointing “where I’ve gone and trimmed the nails on each of your fingers and cut back on each of the cuticles.”  I sort’a muttered back an unenthusiastic “Yea” and then remembered as I backtracked it with a glum “Sorry.  I meant to say “yes mam.”

“Yes, I understand” she said back to me.  “They don’t look anything like they did before.  Waited a sec’ then went on with “I’ll grant you that under other circ-umstances that you’d never get anywhere near looking like they are now.  I’ve done the buffing so that all that we lack are both the clear base and finish coats.   When were done they’ll look just as fine as Rebecca’s.” 
“Yippee-I-yo-ki-yay” I think to myself as she goes on not really caring about what in the hell I would really think with “Now then…it’s been about twenty minutes and I want to check under the bonnet so that if you’re dry we can comb and then brush you out.  We’ll do that first as I don’t want any stray hairs falling on either the first or the finish coat; before that though lunch.  Rebecca and Samantha can have the honors of finishing it up:  girls.” 

I hadda admit, that about this time lunch sounded pretty good, but I knew better than to ask what in the hell the “coat” she was talking about; figuring that sooner or later that I’d find out and again be none too happy about it anyway and lunch seemed more interesting to me than anything else anyway. It was then that I noticed that the Bobsie Twins kept staring at me or rather at my hands which made me look at them again too.  I felt stupid as can be when I really gave them a good hard look too and noticed what Mrs. McCandle’d done and sort’a let out an “Ohhhhh” which was because I was surprised.   I had to admit that they looked…well…yea…different…a whole lot different; which I thought was both bad and good.   Hell, I couldn’t explain it to me because the more I looked at ‘em the more nervous I got and just as I was about to have a conniption over it all that’s when Mrs. McCandle takes the plastic cooking bag off’a my head and starts to probe all around my head; pulling bobby pins of here and there and yanking out what felt like gobs of my hair left and right while muttering things to herself that I either couldn’t hear or understand when I did.  Long story short, she finishes up snatching every one of the pins out and then starts to comb my hair like she was doing the same thing to some dog after it’d gotten a bath:  well, that’s what I thought about the whole thing.  Woof.  Woof.

In the meantime Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Other couldn’t make up their minds.  I mean, instead of just finishing up lunch which had been, my god, first one of ‘em would stare at my fingers like they were newfound tentacles or something then switch their focus to what was happening up to my face ‘n hair; ‘n then back’n forth, back’n forth they’d go.  Sometimes it seemed like they were looking at my hands at the same time and then just as quick look up to see if they’d missed something; like my head’d opened up and worms’d just crawled out of it and it didn’t make me feel all too good when all of a sudden like they’d stop and yammer to each other, always whispering in one another’s ear and then looking back straight at me almost trying to see something that was there that wasn’t.  To top it off the only thing that I really heard from either one of them was Sam flat out telling Becky “No way…you would say that because I look more like one than he does” which I didn’t know which way to take.  After that it was just plain quiet; like she’d gone and said something that everyone had to think about and it was all quiet until Mrs. McCandle’d chirped at ‘em both “Lunch ready yet girls?”  Both of ‘em answered with “Yea” at the same time.

Before, when I’d opened my eyes enough to look around and before all of the brushing and finishing up of the cooking took place I’d noticed the clock on the kitchen wall and had marked the time:  it was now a good twenty minutes past then when Mrs. McCandle declared herself “All done” and didn’t waste any time in barking out orders to Sam and Becky with “Well then, if you’ve both finished…let’s clear the table so we can eat  and then we can finish up:  shall we?”
Between the three of them, with me just sittin and watchin’ lunch found its way onto the table.  Mrs. McCandle asked for Beck to say a blessing and thank god I didn’t say out loud “That’s funny, I didn’t hear anyone sneeze” ‘cause it was only after that I heard Beck say “Dear Lord, thank you for our blessings” that I knew what she was talking about.  Personally, I gotta tell ya, I didn’t think much of either, god or any of his fancy blessings and that’s just the way it was.

Well, the food was good and more than what I normally had and to be honest it didn’t take me long to wolf the fries and burger down like there was no tomorrow.  If I was gonna be thankful for anything it’d be the grub I just had and let it go at that ‘cause I knew that someday later on I’d be without again and that what’d I’d just eaten wouldn’t even be much of a memory.  Well, that’s what I was thinking then and I felt pretty good about it too.  Be that as it may I didn’t have much time to wallow in what I considered was my philosophy of life of getting what I could when I could and just saying the hell with the rest because it was her again, that Mrs. McCandle who broke my daydream of being back on the boardwalk hustling for a buck or two with her telling “Rebecca, while I begin the first clear coat, I’d like you and Samantha to gather up the dryer and then pack it away; after which go to the hall closet; you know where, third shelf right of center and pick out the sheets for the twin bed in the sewing room along with a matching pillow case.  Make it up for Jo and ohhh, yes, you’d best get one of the waterproof sheets that you’re not using to go under it all too.   There should be two left to choose from.  Now then..” she said turning to me “you and I have some unfinished business to tend to” and with that sat herself right down in front of me again and started to mess around with some little glass bottles; looked up at me and smiled and just as quick turned to the side and told Becky “Well, didn’t I ask you to do something?” 
It wasn’t Becky that moved first but Sam who almost jumped out of her skin and bolted for the hallway turning right and just about slipping when she did a quick ninety; it was Becky who stayed and sort’a looked at her mom kind’a strange and just a whole lot peeved and just before she was about to say something her mom told her “Rebecca, we’ve been over this before, poor behavior is never commendable.  Sweetheart, I mentioned the sheets to let you know that of all the things you could possibly cry and feel uncomfortable about that that would be the least of your worries; much as like cutting cuticles which draws a tear or whispers under one’s breath in front of someone which give rise to worries.  When I tuck you in tonight I will explain, now, please do as I ask and I want it perfectly clear:  make certain when you return that both you and Samantha are more considerate; especially with respect to our guest.  Well, I can tell you Beck was none too happy but did like she was told; thing was, I think it was when she got half-way down the hall I heard her snap at Sam with “It’s all your fault, just because he looks better than you and me and you know it you have to go and mouth…..”  That’s when I heard a door slam with them jibber jabbering away at each other behind it. 

Now then” she said looking at me right in the face and flat out asking me what I thought was a question with “Jo, we have unfinished business?    So, if you please, I’ll take one hand, makes no difference.  Please?”

I sort’a gave her my left only because I twitched and just happened that way.  I closed my eyes and waited for the worst; which I knew would happen so I just waited for it like I normally would’ve except instead of doing what I thought she’d do she didn’t.  What she did do was to give my hand a little squeeze and say “No, I can’t do this without telling you. Jo, before I do anything else, please, look at me?  Please?”  I didn’t want too but that wouldn’t make any difference; especially to her because she asked me again with; a “Please?” but somehow the way she said it this time was different.  So I opened my eyes and that’s when she started out the same way with a “Jo” but after that all I heard was “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you.  I didn’t mean too.”  She stopped for a sec and looked at me ‘cause I mean, I was surprised and wondering what in the hell is she apologizing to me for?  If that wasn’t enough she goes on with “For what it’s worth, please understand that I know how terrible you must feel and why you felt you had to cry.  That part I really do understand.  But, you see, if that’s not enough I’m afraid that when you see yourself again, in a mirror, that now you’ll think the worst of me and it’s my fault.  I would say that you have every right not to talk to me for a while so I’ll apologize now and then after; and if I have to, yet again and more.  I had no idea I would succeed so.”
 She kind’a let it hang there waiting for me to ask her something, anything, which I guess was about what in the dic-kens she was talking about.  When I didn’t say squat and saw the look of confusion on my face she went on with “Jo, it has to do with how you look.  I’m sorry.  My intent was merely to suggest; unfortunately, I have failed.   Do you understand?” 

If silence was golden right then and there we’dve all been rich and what with me not knowing what in the hell to say back to someone who was apologizing to me, well, it made it all the more worse.  That’s when she up and tells me “Jo, the whole idea was to help you pass as a tomboy.  When I tell you that will not be a problem not only will it be the truth, it will be an understatement.   When you look at yourself, then, you’ll understand.”

I guess it showed on my face what I was thinking especially when I tried to say “No” and almost choked on it.  Sure, she tried to explain it all to me about how it was all “temporary” but really I knew better; she’d gone and done to me what I always thought was always threatened and now was expecting me to say “That’s O.K.   It really doesn’t matter.  Forget about it!” 

Sure, I could’ve yelled at her and cussed up a storm and maybe she’d have let me get away with it and not busted my chops when I did:  but it wouldn’tve helped; especially now that I knew what in the hell that those girls were looking at and why.   I mean I was thinking “How in the hell am I supposed to face them here and now let alone anyone else later on?  What’m I supposed to say when they look me up and down and start to laugh’n smirk at me?  I mean I knew that even if they didn’t laugh at me right in my face, that one of them would always be laughing at me behind my back and then swear up and down she didn’t do no such thing.  The crazy thing was that right then and there I only had them as a guide.  I mean, what’re you supposed to think when a girl you don’t know from Adam just spouts out loud that you look better than her or her best friend as girl who looks good like a tomboy even if she is a real girl.  I mean. Sure I thought that maybe it wasn’t all that bad.  Still, I thought without me really seein’ for myself I’d haf’ta either take their word for it or just think that they were all nuts. 

So with all this stuff runnin’ through my head Mrs. McCandle tried to ask me a couple of times if I wanted to say anything to her about it.  Actually, she told me that “Jo, I would feel a whole lot better if you would tell me something, anything will do; go ahead and yell at me. I promise I won’t be angry.”  I thought about it and being bleary eyed with a lump in my throat just couldn’t stand to tell her anything besides, I knew that if I did start to tell her off that anything that that might just make the whole situation a whole lot worse than it really was.   And it was a good thing too because a couple a seconds later the Sam and Beck creeps on back into the kitchen and sits themselves down and before they could say a words Mrs. McCandle asks the obvious “I take it then that you’ve made the bed?”

For the ten minutes that followed from them nodding “yes” there we all sat; except for the breathing, soundless.  Them watching me and me always knowing that they were and what was said and about how I looked compared to them both.  I guess it was outta good taste that none of them let on any more about how I looked thinking it a foregone contusion.  I’d been beaten up enough and they let it go at that. 

Naturally, the silence had to end at some point and again it was Mrs. McCandle getting me outta there without me losing it and all she hadda do was to tell me “Jo, by the looks of it you’ll be needing a change.  Come with me and as for you two” she said to Beck and Sam “you’d both be asking yourselves what it is that you can do to help the situation instead of making it worse.  For instance” she went on “once the three of you are downstairs:  games to play, places to walk or friends to share with?  Rebecca Evangeline, I may be wrong, but I’m holding you responsible for anything that happens and by that I’m referring to anyone else outside of this room finding out about Jo not being a…tomboy.  Do I make myself clear?” but was obviously looking at Sam when she said it.

And with that she led me on back to what would turn out to be “my” room, not for the two weeks I’d thought there’d be but more weeks after that than either of us had planned on.  Well at least me that is.

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[teddi]

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I guess you could say that what happened then was to be expected; that is at least as far as Mrs. Candle was concerned.  I mean, she knew the color of the sewing room wasn’t white like most rooms would be.  Uhh, uhh, nope, I kind’a came up short and stopped dead in my tracks when we hit the doorway to where I’d be sleeping.  I wasn’t expecting anything great.  I mean, I was expecting the paint to be peeling off the walls, like I was used too, but it shook me up when I looked around and saw that the walls were still in good shape but painted some kind’a color blue, which Mrs. McCandle straight of the bat told me “You may as well know, the walls are powdered blue above and below the pasted chair rail border.  As you can see the border has been there for some time…we…I…well…let’s just say I’ve grown accustomed to it and find it hard to see myself removing it just to paint over.  In any event, this will be your room for the next two weeks:  closet is right over there” she pointed, “to the left and we’ll make some room to hang what clothes may be suitable for you to wear in it.   On the opposite wall is the Singer and next to it is the bureau; and except for the top center drawer where I’ve stored some of my sewing needs the rest are empty; so when I get through changing you, you can set about placing what diapers and plastic panties your mother left for you in them.  Now then, up with you, go on, up on the bed and be quick about it; the sooner we get you changed and up about the sooner it is you can begin to get yourself straightened out; then, you and the girls will have some acquainting to do.”

None of what she said really sank in.  I mean, I couldn’t believe it.  The room looked like it was all made up for some little kid who might have really liked looking at pictures pasted on some white strip of paper who I knew were Bambi,  a rabbit named Thumper and the skunk who was named Flower.  Oh yea there were a couple of bigger deer that I guessed had something to do with the story which I’d heard about but never seen and, well, actually, while I did read the most of some picture story book real quick about it I couldn’t remember their names:  of Bambi’s mom or dad that is.  All I remembered about it was that what happened to them both wasn’t really good and for some reason reading it kind’a made even angrier at just about everything; especially of him being left all alone.  To me, it wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair.   And really, it was after the fire and when he got left all alone is when I stopped reading the book.  I mean, why bother reading something that’d make me cry.  It kinda made me felt like that’s not on the top of my list of what I’d ever want to have happened to me: cept’n now I really understood about how he must’ve felt.

Anyhow, while I’m taking all of that in I can’t help but notice that the bed she kind’s nudges me over to and wants me to set my keester on is all made up.  I mean, first off, this bed was way bigger than the old, fold out, wooden army cot with the brown pee stained canvas that I was used to sleeping on.  I mean it had the works:  pillows, and a real cover.  I mean, it looked like a real, honest to goodness bed.  Right then and there, the only problem was everything that I saw had some kind of pink on it; and the stupid girls doll, that one of the idiots put on the bed up against the center of the two pillows, well, it didn’t add that much more to making me want to claim any part of this.  The problem was what choice did I have:  none; and I knew it and all I could do was to mumble to myself about “It’s not fair.  None of this is fair.  I hate, god how I hate…”which was interrupted by Mrs. McCandle asking me “Jo, if you’re of a mind to, it would help to speak louder.  I can’t understand a word you’ve been muttering and if it is me that you’re upset with just speak up and we’ll have it out.   No secrets now, shall we?” As she pointed to the bed which I knew meant that she wanted me to get on.  Well, I did tell her “Yea, no secrets like you should know everything.  It’s just not fair.  I don’t want‘a  or haft’a wear diapers or pee in them because you say you can’t trust her, I mean Becky, when for some reason it’s really me.  I’m grown up and old enough not to haft’a wear diapers.  I don’t need them, really, and you’re just trying to make me wear them just the same as my … no…I won’t ever say that name again for her ever.   I hate her and hope she dies.  God don’t I wish that she’d...”

“Stop!  No, you can’t mean that” she shot back at me along with “don’t say that or dare wish it.  While I agree there are many things you can be angry about with her, wishing that is wrong.  So…”

“Wrong?  How can you stand there and tell me it’s wrong?” I shot back  “You can’t be serious.  You have no idea.  I don’t care what you think what I should wish for. There’s nothing you can say that can make me change my mind about it, nothing, nothing, nothing.   So there!”  I made sure to look at her straight in the face when I said it with what I thought was a gritty I’m not budging look.

“O.K.” she tells me, “Stop a moment and listen.  I agree, Jo, by the look on your face, there is nothing I can tell you that will change your mind and for the life of me I won’t try; but what I will do straight off is to tell you something; that you will listen to, and on that mind you, you will listen.  Now” she went on with a hushed “please, just sit on the bed and listen?  O.K.?”   

That last part, the way she said it, surprised me and my “Yea sure, I’ll listen but just because you’re telling me something I don’t have to like what I hear do I?”  I waited a sec and after she shook her head I went on with “I mean, you said I’d have to listen and I will… so…go ahead…tell me…what is it?  Look.  See?” I said as I clambered up on to the bed which, when I plopped my butt down made some kind’a crinkly noise.  “I’m sittin’ right here on the bed just like you asked me to.  O.K.?” which for some reason only made her smile and it was just after she broke that smile that she turned around, reached out and then closed the door then turned the skeleton key to lock it.  Damn, I thought, she’s gonna go and beat the hell out of me and no one will be able to stop her so I closed my eyes, tensed up and waited for her to take the first poke which I figured would send me either heels overhead backwards or flat out right up against the headboard.  Instead I heard the springs to the bed give way as the place where she decided to sit made some scrunching noise too when she sat and then felt the mattress just to my right push down and give way with her sitting next to me; her being the closest to the pillow and doll. 

I guess it took a good thirty seconds or so before she said anything to me and even that wasn’t like I expected her to do.  I mean, I expected a lecture about something that was supposed to make me believe every word she said was the truth like it came from the Bible or something like that.  Something that would make me a goody two shoes right off the bat. I mean every scolding, lecture or getting told-off I’d ever had normally began with “You.”  You shouldn’t have done that…blah, blah, blah, blah blah. Or, you should have done this…blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.  Or the one that went “You little…blah, blah, blah, blah…which of course were the words that normally would get my mouth washed out with soap for saying…which I guess for me a history of could’ve been a case of Ivory Snow.  Nope, instead the first thing I heard was “I’m sorry.  Forgive me?  Please?  How can I ever ….” and with that she just stopped talking and just started crying.  That was it.   She just sat there and cried a river with me sitting right next to her.  It was strange.  For some reason I felt like a real heel.  I mean, I knew that I didn’t say anything to her to make her cry, I mean, how could I make her cry.  It was dumb. It couldn’t be and that was that; except she was.   It felt like years just sitting there and even the knocking on the door or hearing Becky ask “Mother?  Are you all right?  You’re crying?  Uhh, do you know that the doors locked?  Can I come in?” didn’t stop her from either answering or crying some more. 

It was strange just sitting there not knowing what to do: and as for answering Becky back, well, if her mom didn’t answer then I sure wasn’t going to.  Besides, honestly, I couldn’t.  Not because I didn’t want to but because I felt terrible.  It was like I had somehow hurt her; but that I knew was impossible.  Well, I can’t say for sure how long it was after that that she managed to stop crying enough to up and tell Becky, who was still on the other side of the door and with Sam just a jabbering away between the two of them a shaky “Rebecca, I’m fine…and no…you can’t come in.  We’ll…we’ll be out soon.  I promise.  Now…please…go and play or… or…better yet, just turn on the television maybe you can watch Arthur Godfrey and His Friends or The Guiding Light.”

“Mother, Arthur Godfrey was over two hours ago and The Guiding Light doesn’t come on for another hour and a half:  at three.”   Why can’t I come in?” was a question she asked that I was thinking of too.  Really.  It made me feel kind’a strange sitting there for a change, and no, with me wet I’m not making a joke, and me not knowing what  it is that I either said or done to make her cry.  So, I sorta, kinda like, just reached out and patted her left hand which was down right beside her.  It was after that that she goes on and tells Becky “Sweetheart, as I said before you can’t come in.” 

“But why?” was the same thing I was thinking that Becky asked and it was kind’a odd just sitting there waiting just like Becky for some kind of answer that would make sense which after a deep breath Mrs. McCandle tells her “Rebecca, it is a private conversation.  You know the one which we had several months ago?  The one which I explained about the foggy foggy dew and how things worked between…”

“Mother, you’re not serious!  Are you?”
“Oh, more serious than ever; now, if you please, find something to do and we’ll both be out shortly.  O.K?”

To which all I heard was a huffy “Yes Mother.”  After that it was stone cold quiet for a minute with me and her just sitting there like two bumps on a log and with me clueless.  So, there we sat until she twists herself around to take a look at me and the just up and tells me “Jo, no secrets, all I ask is that you listen.  After that think what you will, alright?” Well, at least she gave the chance to nod a “Yes” before she tells me “Good.  Now then...”as she kept wiping her eyes off “…it begins like this, with me explaining to you the facts of life.” 

Yea, sure, I know, there I sat just wondering what in the hell she was leading up to and then when she started to explain about what she, with a laugh, called “the foggy foggy dew” and what it was, I mean the real name for it and all about how babies where made I just sat there with me listening to her explain to me about how things worked between boys and girls.  I guess being dumb as dirt had its advantages or maybe it was just the fact that she was taking time to explain some of the stuff that I’d heard about out on the street but I can tell ya for a fact that she definitely had my attention; at least for this part of what she was telling me.  And, when she asked me if I understood everything she told me and I nodded “yes” well, she up and asks me “Good.  Then try and explain it back to me.” 

“What?” I said with my jaw dropping wide open.
“You heard me.  In your own words what did I just tell you.  Explain it back to me.”
“You can’t be serious…you’re not are you?”

“Oh yes.  What’s more is that we are not about to do another thing until you, in your own words, tell me what I just told you.  Now then, I’m waiting.”
“Yea, so am I” I quipped back “I mean, you, your, well, you’re older so you know more about stuff and that sort’a thing, I don’t, well, at least I didn’t.  And now you want me to tell you back stuff that’s sort’a icky?”

“Yes, explain it and you may include the icky and the reason is simple, Jo, when I bathed you, I couldn’t help but notice that your developing, actually, your sprouting a hair or two in the appropriate area, which means that sooner or later you and the foggy foggy dew will be a pair.  Now then, in your own words explain how it works.”

Sure, there I sat, wondering, how in the hell do I remember all the different words she used to describe what she told me.  I remember the part where she started off with “the anatomy of a female and a male are …..” but after that I was numb and I know that every time she lifted my chin up off the floor for some reason she’d smile at me, but, I mean, I was stumped.  Her little prodding question like “Must I explain it all again?” got me to tell her “No, once was enough, I think.  I mean….”

“You mean” she said “that for the moment you are at a loss for words.  Is that right?” Which gave me the opening I thought I needed so my “Oh boy, yes, am I ever.”  I thought that that would be the end of it when she smiled when I said it, except, she was quicker than what I’d given her credit for because all she did was tell me “Good, then the explanation will be worth the wait.  Take your time” which is what I did.

Seventy ump-teen seconds later it was me trying to gag and choke out what she told me without making any sense at all.  The grown-up words she’d used didn’t sound right when I said them and it all seemed like a mish-mash of gobbly gook make up crap that some bone head would use.  It was after the third try that it finally came to me on how to tell her I got it.  “Well, if I can’t use the right words right now, I promise that if you ask me later I can. But if you want I can give you an example of how it works, I can, if that’s o.k.?”   A “Yes, an example would be fine.  I’ll wait.”

I pointed and spoke “O.K. Look.  Mrs. McCandle, look, see, over there at the door?”  Her “Yes” was almost laughing but I didn’t take it the wrong way instead I just went on with “Good.  Then see, there’s the lock and key.  Well, if the key is like the boy part all stiff and stuff and the lock is like the girl part, it’s the part the key fits into, well, when you put it in and turn it you expect something to happen.  So, it’s like that when a boy and a girl get together they have parts that fit and supposed to work together; ‘cept the foggy dew part you were telling me about from the boy gets into the girls lock part and might make a baby.  Well?”  “Well” she said “we’ll have us another talk later when you’re able.” 

It was after that bit of news which I was pretty eager to test out to see if I ever got the chance in private to do something else that she told me about.  But it was then that she told me something else which wasn’t so great and it was about her and Mr. McCandle and of how they “met just a year before Rebecca was born, something happened.  "At first" she said "I thought it was just wonderful, until, for some reason, I thought I had changed my mind.”  I guess to her it made sense.  To me, well, mud was clearer than what she’d just told me.  Of course, she had to stop, wipe some more tears away from her eyes and then just started in again but all of a sudden like back tracked on what she told me first by saying “Jo, let me begin again.  At the beginning of WWII I met a wonderful man, an army lieutenant, my Colin S. McCandle.  It was love at first sight and being young lovers we, well, let’s say we were passionate:  just like I explained to you.  Several weeks later we eloped.  He deployed and nineteen weeks later, after a fall, I started to bleed and to make a long story short, after a stay in the hospital I went home alone.  It was not the best of beginnings.”

It was right there she gulped in a big breathe and sort’a mumbled something to herself which I guess was o.k.  I mean, for me, I had no clue about what she was talking to me about except for the fact that something happened to her first kid which rang a bell to me with me thinking then that Becky had to be either her second or third; which meant that whatever it was that happened was bad.  Anyhow, after her taking another deep breath she goes on an tells me “Jo, at first I thought that having a child would be wonderful until I realized that I would be all alone to care for it and for the life of me the though ran through my mind that I would better off without it.  I mean, Colin was deployed overseas and here I was and I’ll admit it…I was scared and miserable, felt sorry for myself and wished for about a week that there was some way to just start all over again without being pregnant; without being burdened.  Jo, the gist of matter was I fell, by right it was an accident, I got my wish and have regretted it ever since.  Your wishing reminded me of the one I made.  That’s it.  No secrets.  Now then, to end the story, like you, it was a boy.”

And with that bit of information she just sat there for a couple’a minutes more.  Mrs. McCandle all but ignored the knock on the door and the voice which asked again “Mom?  Can I come in now?”  Except for the “No” she said just loud enough to hear, it seemed right to just sit there and be quiet except for the fact that somehow, it wasn’t right:  me sitting there, odd man out thinking about what she’d said, Becky asking for something and not getting the answer she expected and Mrs. McCandle all quiet still wondering about what she’d wished for and got and still regretted. 

Not too long after that is when Mrs. McCandle got the gumption up to flat out tell me “Jo, after I change you, take your diaper and pants down the hall to the left and put them both in the diaper pail that’s already in the bathroom.  Then come back here and we’ll find something for you to wear…together.  Oh, and while Samantha may have some items which may or may not fit, regardless, the lot will have to be washed before anything is worn.  We can go through each and determine what will or won’t after she’s gone home.  Now then, lie back and wait for me.  I’ll need to get a hot and wet wash cloth to wipe you off before I put you back together.” 

“There were a lot of things I could’ve told her before she up and left me but didn’t.  The fact of the matter was that for some reason I felt a whole lot more comfortable than before.  Of course, that feeling sort’a skipped out on me when after she’d left than both Becky and Sam eased their way back into the room and started playing twenty questions with me about what me and Mrs. McCandle’d been talking about.  Yea, I knew what they were doing was stalling for time to see if they could get to stay and get a good look at my dink which made me worry that as soon as the diaper was peeled away that it be standing straight up.  That part made me nervous.  Long story short, just as expected, after whining about how sooner or later they’d not only see me but do the changing Mrs. McCandle gave in which sort’a made my stomach jump right up to into my throat and when Mrs. McCandle suggested “Jo, it may be easier for you to close your eyes and think of something else?” that’ exactly what I did.  Of course, when the wash cloth ran over every bit of what was there to see and the girls started to giggle at what was happening it didn’t feel like I was anywhere else but here and on display.  Minutes later, after I’d gone and dropped the diaper in the pail like she’d asked me to I reported back to the room and with no girls there except for Mrs. McCandle, I not only got to choose something to wear but also saw myself for the first time at what I looked like as a tomboy. 

A couple of minutes later Mrs. McCandle led me back down the hallway to the kitchen where Sam and Becky were waiting to take a gander.  It may have been ten seconds or twenty or fifty, I don’t know, but, neither of the two said a word to me about looking like a dork or anything like that; no, it was worse when both of them each took one of my hands and started to walk me out of the kitchen and out into the hallway with Becky whispering “You look beautiful” in my left ear while Sam was telling me “I wish I looked as good as you” in my right.”    After that, we, well, we did what Mrs. McCandle’d asked them to do, begin to teach me how to get by with what girls would first do in a hallway which was to first stand and talk about how to talk; how to talk and what to do with your head and shoulders when you did and from there it was on to how to walk and the way to hold your hands and move your hips  when you did and to make sure that the steps you took were just the right steps and then when you stopped walking what you did with your knees and toes; how to position them, bend them or rotate them and then, when just right,  hold still.  Of course, at every step of the way, it was impressed that wrists for the most were always limp if not upturned.   Jeez.

 

[teddi]

Irish proverb:        “It is not a secret if it is known by three people.”

Anyway, just like I said, all in all it was a one way conversation:  two girls telling me, a boy, what they thought the real skinny was about, the true why and where on all sorts of things that had to do with me just fitting in to look, act and talk like one of them:  right, with me being mortified about how I looked; especially now ‘cause I thought I looked in one word - gruesome. Gruesome, that was the first thought to cross my mind when I got to see me for the first time, or what was going to pass as me, face to face, head to head staring me right in the eyes looking back at me in a mirror with an “I’m dead!” thought.  “My god I really look like a tootie fruiti girl?!  Me?”

 I mean, right off the bat, I  knew that I wouldn’t even wanna be caught dead out on Halloween lookin like I did right then or wearing what I was which of course meant that out of the stuff that Mrs. McCandle had set out for me to choose from that I had on.  I mean, like I was wearing it but it was like let’s say it was like choosing the way you wanted to die.  You knew, without a doubt you were going to die and the only way you were going to, was by firing squad; but with no blindfold.  Which was O.K. so far.  But to be “nice” you could choose which way to face them; which meant that in the end, well….you were still a Swiss cheese goner.

Anyhow, choosing between what she told me was 1. A blue dress of chromespun acetate taffeta and what she called a slip to go with it (yea, there was that word again (slip) but then at least I had a clue of what it was) along with a robin’s egg blue nylon blouse with real wide collar; or 2. a well-worn check circle skirt with a matching blouse which had wide lapels; or maybe it would be number 3. a quilted cotton skirt and vest set which also had a white blouse but with puffy sleeves and finally would it be a plaid Magic-Grow dress with a light solid colored frilly blouse?  Those were it.  No pants, no coveralls, no nothing that even looked like …. well, there were the shoes, there I had a choice:  black, brown or some mixed white and brown ones.  The brown were a pair of what she called oxford Sundials with crepe soles (no laces).  The black were the same. The mostly white one’s at least had laces but really stood and were called “saddle shoes” – go figure.

  Of course shoes and socks were gonna be a tough one but amazingly enough Beck had a pair of scuff resistant oxford Sundials with a crepe sole and several pairs of socks (white with pink trim, white with blue trim) white ones with lace or blue one with lace) all of which she said were “turned cuff anklets” (like I knew what that was and was about too) and some solid colored knee highs along with some checkered knee highs (some choice huh?).   

Of course I fussed quite a bit about the fact that there weren’t any pants to choose from or something less girly (stupid me for asking) and got the same news (again in no uncertain terms) that it was these – period.  I mean Gabriel Heater had better news than she did) that the pants, in the form of coveralls, shorts or whatever Sam had would come later and after I’d been “properly introduced.”  So like any condemned prisoner I chose.  Lucky me. Whoopee do.


But all that said back to basics.  Understand, before I got to “choose” I didn’t really had taken a good hard look at me (my face, hair, or what she’d gone and done to my eyebrows and stuff) but after “getting to pick” it was Katie bar the door.  I mean, there I was standing there actually had letting some strange lady dress me like a girl (and I thought that that word was really one stupid word now that I was standing there in one) it was after that that I had taken a good hard gander at myself in the mirror that was hanging on the back of door to the room I was gonna sleep in.  And, while the girls might have said that they thought I looked “good” (which was after I’d seen me for the first time and before they’d seen me wearing Becky’s checkered circle skirt that fell a good six  inches below my knees; a pair of checkered knee highs which really pulled up just below my knee cap; some white white shirt with sleeves that got all puffy at the shoulders and a vest which matched the skirt.  Of course the shoes I had on were hers too and was the  Sundials.

I had other first impression ideas.  My “Ohh my god I’m dead meat” moan was loud enough to be heard through the door which then started the water works to going.  After that, I let her know that my first red faced impression of what she’d done to my face and hair was “Ohhh no….my…my hair is all curly’n my eyes look different and… and… and …my hair – it’s – its wavy…and worse is that you made me …. I mean…. I look like -Betty Boop. Please, I can’t go out like this!” was falling on deaf ears ‘cause she flat out told me I would and that “your curls will loosen up after being brushed out- especially after several washings” (great they were my curls) like that was good news while making the point to tell me again that “Remember, it was important to make a “good” first impression; one which would leave no doubt” which to her explaining was “Jo, you have to play the part of a girl first, no half-way measures will work:  please trust me?”

I managed to croak back a “Yea right, like do I have a choice?” knowing the answer’n dreading what would come.  For the first time that I could remember I actually peed some in the diapers she’d just changed me into (well not a full blown pee just a small leak-it was stress-honest) she was telling me “Jo, I’m sorry but no, not really.”

 Yea, thought so; that didn’t do much for me either.  I had some real news for Gabriel Heater…there was no good news tonight.

 Anyhow, back to what was going on.  Of course, Mrs. McCandle kind’a sat in on the whole thing, added some stuff about acting what she called acting “nonchalant”  which she explained to me as looking like “you were both o.k. and bored to tears with it all.   Of course…” she added “…remember, that might make some to take you out to be stuck up … but for you that would be all to the well and good.  Maybe it will keep the flies away.”

Well that bit of information  drew a couple a “oohs and aahhs” from the audience like it was some revelation that girls needed in on to know as a basic because even if I didn’t care for girls, as being interested in them, right now it wasn’t like I didn’t know that they were already snooty having come by it naturally.  And then when I thought that she gone and finished with her ideas on the subject she goes and says “Of course, there are the pitfalls that if you play the part too well you just may attract an admirer or two.”

That bit of news didn’t sail on by so my startled “What?  What was that last part?” might have come as no surprise to her when I sputtered, “Admirers? I thought everything you said to do would make me fit in so I wouldn’t get my head handed to me.  I don’t understand.   I mean, if I act stuck up and snub everyone, you mean to tell me that someone else might, uhhh, like me for being a snotnose?”
With a smile she said “Jo, unfortunately the answer is yes.  For some males, the thrill is in the chase.  They consider it “a girl who’s playing hard to get.”  Needless to say you’d be better off not turning heads for either your looks or your mouth:  but enough of that.  When you get older you’ll understand how that part works, but for now, for you, rule number one is:  when downstairs and on the sidewalks stay close to Rebecca and Samantha – stick like glue – otherwise, only if necessary best keep to yourself.  In essence, try and hide in plain sight.   Rule number two:  speak as little as possible, which in your case might not be all that noticeable but mistakes happen and ….”

That’s when I piped in with an “Excuse me, hold on.   I … you … uhh… just said that I sound like a girl?  Really?”

“No.  Just sometimes, not always, just sometimes.”

My “You’re kidding me right?” only got the silent treatment because she kept right on telling me about…”Shhhh.  Don’t worry, you’ll grow out of it.  And rule number three is: don’t get into any fights.  I don’t care the cause or the right of it.”  Naturally, she finished off that thought with “And for that It would take a miracle” under her breathe.  Sam and Beck thought that that was the cat’s meow, giggled like it was no biggie and then started gabbing again between themselves that “us girls should go do something else…now” which I thought would mean that I would sit it out but again like before I was too dense to accept the fact that the “us girls” now also included all of me.  My god I thought I was dense what with after all the yakkity yak about how girls talked, walked and stuff I still wasn’t thinking like one:  no duh.

Anyhow, the two of them decided that we were moving out to the hallway but me taking root in the kitchen it took Beck to elbowing me in the ribs to go on and move me on out the door, which being skittish and petrified was like forcing a cat to walk in a straight line without the cat thinking about it.  It wasn’t gonna happen easy.  Besides which just as soon as she said it her mom up and tells her “Rebecca, it is “we girls” not “us.”

“Oh yea, right mom, sorry.  We girls, c’mon Jo, that includes you Jo; you can’t stay inside forever” she said and gave me another shove while continuing on with “…besides for now it’s just in the hallway; it’s not like we were going downstairs and playing out front.  It’ll be fine, you’ll see.  You two (she said nodding to Sam’n me) head on out and I’ll get the jacks.  Be right there.”

“Sure, right” I mumbled.  It’ll be fine for you guys but I’m the one who looks…”

“Good, you look good” Sam cut me off while adding “Nah, you look better’n good.  I only wish.  Ya know?”

“Yea Sam, I know; you want to look like a boy, act like a boy and stuff but I gotta tell ya, even if you looked worser, ya know, not pretty like a girl, you’d still get tagged as one.”

“Wait a second” she said getting in my face “you said I was pretty?”

“Well, I could be mistaken so don’t get bent out of shape.  I mean what do I know?”

“No, I heard what you said and no one, except for my dad, ever called me that!  I outta pound you!”

“Geez Sam, it’s not like I called you a dirty name, ya know?”

“Just the same for calling me that I need to give you a …”

“Give him a what?  C’mon, what?” Beck broke in coming out to join the two of us just outside the apartment door.  “What’d I miss?  C’mon you two give.  Sam?”

“Nothing!” Sam shot back.  “I ain’t gonna kiss and tell.”

“You kissed him?  That right T.J.?”

“What!?  I never…honest injun.  She’s makin it up ‘cause I said I thought she looked pretty.  Jeeez” I was almost frantic saying “Look, if I made a mistake I’m sorry O.K. so can we just forget about that and do something else?  Huh?” I said like I was talking to the walls while they just stood there and looked at each other and smiled like they were talking to each other without speaking which creeped me out some; and when they both started to laugh over what I thought it was what I said when Beck pipes in with “Ooooh I see.  So why don’t “we” sit down right here” she said pointed to the right side of the doorway and “we” can explain how to play jacks and while “we” do we can gossip” and without so much as a second notice I find that both of both of ‘em are pulling me down to sit with ‘em Indian style and no sooner had our butts hit the linoleum Beck starts explaining the basics of jacks while Sam just sits there with this stupid look on her face.  I guess it was like two or three minutes later, after Beck had made threesies that Sam dropped the bomb on me with “you know…we saw you with no clothes on.  We saw everything.  How does that make you feel?”

“Yea just shut up, o.k.?” 

“Nuh uhh and you can’t make me either.  So, I’ll ask you again” she said whispering “we saw you with no clothes on, all of you and you were hard there so it must have made you feel good, right?  You know both of us, Becky’n me have baby sat little boys and changed their diapers so we know how your little thingies get stiff when there touched…you’re so like them and what’s more is that soon we can both be the one’s who’ll get to change you all by ourselves and no one else will be watching.   Wadya think about them apples, huh?” 

Sure right then I looked over to Beck for help but the smile on her face told me that the two of them were just waiting to get me alone so I just sat there all quite:   dumb and numb.  It was only a couple of seconds later that Beck chimes in with her ante to the other game the two of them were playing with me with “You know she’s right y’know.  We’ll be changing you and get to see you all over again and again…so while you were getting dressed we made a pact…between us girls that if you gave us any static you’d be sorry.  You see, we girls are more grown up than you so when your with us we decided that you’d have to listen to whatever it was we said; sort of like Simon Says except that when we tell you to do something you do it.  O.K?  Good, that’ll be our little secret” she said without me saying a word.  “That’s settled.”

“Now, your turn” she said, passing be the red ball.  Remember, you start with onesies.
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