Synopsis:

Two young teens, life-long friends, discover each other though not in the usual way. A gentle "coming-of-age" tale.

Story:

Me and Sam
by
Darla Raspberry

"Just throw the damned ball" Sam shouted... I stood on the pitcher's mound and stared at the target. The field was built to big league specifications and the pitcher's mound was exactly 60'6" away from home plate. I went into my wind up and released what I thought was a powerful pitch. Where’s the radar gun when you need one? Sam laughed. As she caught the ball, it made a soft "plop" in her glove.

"Is that the best you can do?" she said....

Yes, Sam is all girl but don't dare and try to call her Samantha. We had been best friends for all thirteen years of our lives... and, sadly, she could beat me at anything we did.... sports, school,, well?.. maybe not everything. You see Sam was more tomboy than tom himself could have ever been. She was tall for a girl.. well, 5'11" and yep, if I stood on tip toes I could look her in the eyes. Her hair was long, her only "really" feminine feature .... and the rest of her, well not at all pretty....but, to me she was my best friend in the universe...and there was nothing I wouldn't do for her.. nor she me.....

Our mothers had been best friends in college and moved to this small coastal town in the northeast before Sam and I had been born. It seems they too had been a bit competitive and yep, it was no accident that I was exactly two days older than Sam. Weird thing to bet on, but it seems that's how it came to pass... I am grateful, however, that I was born first. Had it been the other way around, I'd have never heard the end of it.

My birthday was on the 17th of July and Sam's on the 19th. Our mothers decided early on that a joint celebration on the 18th would be best and that's the way it's been for as far back as I can remember.

By the way, my name is John and yep, if I call Sam "Samantha" well, she calls me "Joan"... That never did seem fair to me, but, it is what it is "OK John, my turn to take the mound." Sam handed me the catcher's mitt and walked out to take position.

I squatted down and for fun flashed the signal for her fastball... She went into her windup and threw with all her might. This time the ball popped in the mitt and I almost fell over backwards catching it. She flashed me a wide toothy grin and I simply replied "nice one."

Neither one of us played sports at school. I simply wasn't good enough to make the teams and Sam?.. well, Sam had the skills, but the powers that be wouldn’t' let her play. Their reasoning? since there was a girl's "softball" team Sam could join it if she wished. Sam would not play at all before she'd play on a "girls' team."

We continued on with our catch until the local siren sounded letting us know that it was 5 PM and that it was time to head on home for dinner, homework and chores. It really was a lovely community and I was grateful that my parents had decided to move so close to the ocean all those years ago. No, not ocean front, but , two blocks away was close enough for me. Sam also shared my love for the sea. We would while away many hours just sitting at ocean's edge sharing stories about everything and anything.

The next day was Friday, my favorite day of the week. The school semester was coming to an end and soon we'd have the entire summer to enjoy. Only three more weeks till the start of vacation. We both attended the same middle school though Sam and I didn't share any classes. Perhaps that was for the best, otherwise, she'd make a point of "beating me" at everything scholastic too. Not that she didn't anyway, but at least I didn't have to experience it directly.

She'd always ask me how I did on Mr. Benson’s science test or Mr. Finelli's math exam and, my reply was always the same: " I passed." Her smile would widen letting me know once again that she had bested me. I really didn't mind all that much, I was not nearly as competitive as Sam was. Besides, weren't girls supposed to be smarter than boys? They just took it all so darned seriously. And no, my grades weren't abysmal, I just knew I wasn't in Sam's class both literally and figuratively. She'd ask me about a quadratic equation problem that we'd had for homework At first I thought she was serious, but then I realized she already knew the answer.

Sam sat with Billy, Jim, and me during lunch. Seventh grade classes all had the same lunch period. Generally the boys sat at their own tables and the girls congregated separately. From the start, Sam had refused to sit with the girls. Billy and Jim were both a bit put out at first about having a "girl" sit with us, but they soon realized that this was no ordinary female and after a very short time the gender issue disappeared entirely. Well, after Sam beat Billy arm wrestling and Jim just stared at her mouth agape when offered his opportunity to show his physical prowess. I remember watching that entire episode in silence. Sure, I was tempted to laugh at Billy, but I knew what the outcome would be before he sat down at the table and grabbed Sam's hand ready to show her "who's the boss."

The buzz that afternoon was all about what we were doing that weekend. I hadn't made any specific plans, being happy to just take things as they came. Billy and Jim were taking a trip down the coast with their dads to see the Americans play baseball. I sat there a bit wistfully at not having been invited but my Dad didn't get along well with Mr. Roberts or Mr. Davies and while he was a loving father, he wasn't about to subject himself to a weekend with those two. Besides, he'd probably end up working as he did most weekends.

My father, Mr. Robert Johnson, was an attorney. He thought it would be funny naming me John with a last name of Johnson. Mom didn't argue cause well, she loved the name John though, from all I could gather I’m thinking she'd have been happier had I been Joan Johnson instead of John. Still, Mom was great and did everything in her power to make sure that my life was in-tune and well-balanced.

The final bell having sounded a mass exodus began from the school building. I waited out on the front sidewalk for Sam to appear. She was a few minutes in coming. I looked at her closely and could tell that something was amiss. "What's wrong Sam?" I asked. And though I knew her reply before she stated it, I simply waited for her "nothing John, let's go."

We walked in silence for a bit. We didn't live far enough away from the school to be entitled to ride the bus. Seems you had to live two miles away for that to occur and we only lived just over a mile away. I didn't mind the walk and, if the weather was bad, well Mom would make sure that we had a ride. Without looking up as we tread the pavement I asked Sam what she'd like to do for the afternoon. "Want to play some baseball, Sam?"

"I can't, I have to go shopping with my mother" was her reply. I still couldn't fathom what had her in such a mood.

We arrived home. Her house being a few doors down from my own on the opposite side of the street and the first one we reached. I stopped as she began to ascend the front steps and waited for her to say something. She opened the screen door, turned her key in the lock and went in without a word. I stood there staring... wondering and worrying about my friend. This was very unusual behavior for her. I waited a few minutes to see if she'd return, but it didn't happen.

Shifting my backpack to a more comfortable position, I made my way across and down the street. "Mom, I'm home!" I shouted as I came through the door. "John! how are you sweetheart?" Mom was generally home when I arrived. Her part time job at the library was enough to keep her busy. She'd told Dad long ago that if they were going to have children that she would be there for them while they were growing up. Dad, a total workaholic, didn't mind and besides, money was not an issue.

I replied "I'm fine Mom, but I'm a little worried about Sam."

"Ahhhhh" was all she said.

"Do you know why she might be upset?" I asked her. Again, she tried a stalling tactic. Something was clearly going on.

"I'm not really sure" she said, but I could tell I wasn't getting the whole truth. I asked again and getting no response of any kind, decided I might as well drop it, cause when Mom clamed up, she clamed up.

What was the big secret?... sheeeeeeesh! I shook my head and wandered upstairs to play some video games until the call for supper. Dad usually worked late and it was rare that we'd have dinner before 7:30. My stomach was beginning to rumble a bit when Mom finally gave the shout that it was time to eat. I shut down my game and headed for the kitchen. The dining room was reserved for special occasions and this being just the three of us, wasn't one of them.

Dad looked at me and asked how my day had been. Still feeling a bit left out I told him of Bill and Jim's trip to go and see the triple A Americans play. He said he had no idea that plans had been made but seemed very relieved not to have been roped in on the upcoming trek. My father hated baseball... Can you imagine?... Anyway, he made his apologies and said he had to work that weekend. Yes, he'd be working both Saturday and Sunday, though Sunday would be spent in the home office doing research for an upcoming case. My mother clearly had a lot of patience for my father's career. Having fulfilled the obligation of asking me about my day, Mom and Dad went into their usual chit chat about their own lives.

The more I sat there... the more I was wondering just what had happened to Sam. I finished eating as soon as possible and tried to escape before I could get roped into doing the dishes. I was quick, but Mom was quicker. "Just a minute John. Where do you think you're going?" rather than tell her I was going to go and call Sam, I simply replied "nowhere." The days were getting longer and there was still a good hour of daylight left outside. I went into the kitchen and began straightening things out in hopes that they would finish soon so I could fulfill my familial obligation.

It was close to 9 PM by the time I was done and the sun had indeed gone to bed for the day. I ran upstairs, grabbed the phone and started dialing Sam's number. "Come on" I shouted at the phone as it rang with no pick-up for the fourth time. Finally, Sam answered the phone herself. "Hello?"

"Sam! Great to hear your voice! Are you OK?"

"I'm fine John. What is it you want?" Hmmmm?.. this wasn't going well.

"I was just worried about you is all."

"Nothing to worry about" her voice had taken on a steely tone. Deciding that I wasn't going to get anywhere I decided to take a different approach.

"Well, are you going to come over tomorrow morning?" She paused for a moment before responding.

"I don't know, should I?"

"YES! It's Saturday... the weather is supposed to be perfect and I thought we could take advantage of the beach and boardwalk before the crowds start pouring in.."

The silence emanating from the phone line was almost too perfect. At last she said "OK, what time?"

I was a little overeager at that point and said.. 8 o'clock sharp!... She laughed and said she'd be over at 9. Her laugh filled me with a sense of relief. I figured whatever was going on, it couldn't be too bad if she could still let go and laugh, if only for a moment.

Sam lived alone with her Mom. Her Dad had died a few years earlier in a car crash. At least that's what everyone told me. Sometimes I thought there was more going on there, but I had nothing to base it on. Well, aside from the fact that there had been no funeral. Seems he had died while out of town on business and the funeral had taken place elsewhere. That just didn't ring true somehow, but what did I know?.. I'd barely been ten years old at the time.

We said our good-byes and I played video games for a bit before Mom told me to turn the machine off and get to sleep. I thought about begging for a bit more time, but knew it would be useless. Mom was usually pretty good about such things and gave me five minutes to get to wherever I needed to be with my game before going ballistic. Finally, I shut the system down and went and said goodnight to my parents. Sleep came easy to me that evening. I was going to see Sam in the morning and finally figure out just what was going on.

I awoke early the next morning, well, early for a Saturday. By eight o'clock I was showered, fed, and ready to meet the day. Damn, I wish I had mowed the lawn before I had showered, but too late for that now. I headed out to the attached garage, after several pulls on the mower engine it finally started and I was mowing with a smile on my face. Fortunately, our lawn was rather modest in size. Twenty minutes later I was done with the job. I thought about taking the mower over to Sam's house and surprising her by doing the job for her. She would have been annoyed though cause she didn't care for my grass cutting technique. She'd insist on cutting the lawn using a different pattern every time the way her father had showed her long ago.

At nine o'clock on the dot Sam came wandering up our drive. I almost ran out to meet her, but that seemed a little strange, even to me. I restrained myself and waited for her to approach the front door. "SAM!" I exclaimed. She smiled and continued her loping gait up the driveway. Not sure why I said what I did, but I couldn't help myself. "Sam, are you OK?"

A forlorn look overtook her face before she replied "If you ask me that one more time I'm going to punch your lights out!"

I smiled uneasily and said "sorry."

She stood on the fresh mowed grass and said "so, what are we going to do today?" I smiled back at her and without thinking, I charged her and tackled her on the soft bed of grass beneath. She quickly flipped me over and had me pinned under her unable to move. My mother having heard the ruckus came running to see what was going on. Seeing me, pinned beneath Sam with her arms holding me down helpless sent her into a fit of laughter. Although she was unaware, that laughter gave me the strength I needed to turn the tables on Sam. I quickly flipped her and regained position. This time, I was on top of her with her pinned beneath me.

She simply looked up at me stunned. "JOHN!" shouted my mother. "You get off of Sam right now!"

My brain was awash in confusion. It was funny a moment ago when Sam had me pinned, but now?... It wasn't?.. Guess I’ll never understand mothers. Mom told Sam to wait outside and beckoned me inside for a few minutes to have a dreaded "word with me."

"Just what do you think you're doing young man?" I looked at her dumbfounded. What the hell did she mean?.. I was wrestling with Sam, and I WON! no gold medal for me?.. no parade?.. sheeeeesh!

"Mom" I replied "Sam and I were just wrestling."

"Very soon young man both you and your friend are going to be 14. It's not appropriate for boys to be sitting on top of young ladies on the front lawn at 9 o'clock in the morning or any other time for that matter. Do you get my drift?" Actually, I had no idea what Mom was so upset about. Sam and I had engaged in such activity hmmm?..since...always!

Having been called "young man" several times in the last few minutes and not wishing to be engaged in a lengthy conversation with my mother (hell, Sam was waiting for me) I said "yes Mom, sorry Mom, it won't happen again." She shook her head at me and let me go spend some time with my friend.

"Sorry about that Sam," I said.

"It's OK John" she replied. Oddly she didn't seem upset that I'd gotten the best of her in a wrestling situation, though I knew this was not the time to gloat, so I didn't.

"Want to take a walk on the boardwalk" I asked?

"Sure" was her one word response. Relieved for the moment that all the lunacy had died down and just wanting to get away from the front yard, Sam and I began the two block walk to the ocean. We walked in silence and once again I felt that something was wrong. Just how was I going to figure this out?

I was feeling a bit awkward and strange that morning. For some reason, I wanted to grab hold of Sam's hand as we walked. Had I tried I'm sure she'd have decked me and I was still savoring my victory over her moments before to have it wiped out by an instant defeat in her favor. So, I smiled to myself and we continued our journey towards the eternal bliss of the ocean just a few steps away.

"Shall we head straight to the beach or shall we walk the boards and see what's going on?" I asked her.

"The boards" she said. ahhh, a two word reply that time. hmmm?... Do articles count as words? We walked a bit past the opening shops and finally I couldn't take it any longer.

"What the hell is wrong with you Samantha?" Yes, I knew that calling her Samantha was not the smartest thing to do, but it seemed appropriate at the moment.

"Well Joan, I thought I told you I was fine?.. I thought I'd told you not to question me again about anything?" She looked down on me. though she was only inches taller, she had perfected this move years earlier.

"Sam!!!!" What are you saying?".... I so wanted to scream "Are you OK?" and though I was relatively brave, I wasn't that brave. She looked off into the distance and gave me a shove in the same direction when I refused to move. I tried desperately to compose myself and continue walking. I only succeeded in moving forward, aside from that, I was a complete mess... …………

Chapter 2

The Boardwalk, The Beach, and Sam’s Secret

We started walking again and were hit with the overwhelming scent of salt air. The song of the gulls in the morning filled our ears. For a few moments, all was forgotten. The boardwalk was a long one, about a mile or so, filled with shops, arcades, and games of chance. At either end was a pier. One was filled with amusement rides and the other a conglomeration of shops, fishing spots, and a few kiddy rides for the youngsters.

Some of the shops were open year round and we greeted the wheels of chance operators that we knew as we passed them. It was early, but not too early for them to shout out at anyone passing by to put a quarter down and win a prize. I suppose it was illegal, but Sam and I played the games on occasion.

"Want to play some ski-ball" I asked her?

"Might as well" she replied. With a destination in mind, the only one on the boardwalk that still had 10 cent games of ski-ball, we headed off. I had $15 dollars with me that morning, having received my hard earned allowance before leaving the house. It was actually $20 per week, a fair sum, I suppose, but I’d resolved long ago to save 25% of my allowance and at this point, I’d amassed a tidy sum;. Mom, hoping I’d be a bit frugal always gave me $5 bills to make it easier for me.

We arrived at the arcade, went inside and each got a dollar in dimes to play some ski-ball. I was determined to beat Sam and rolled each ball up the alley very carefully. The first game ended and I had indeed beaten Sam, though only by 30 points. She seemed not to care, so I decided to taunt her a bit in an attempt to get her head into the game and off whatever was bothering her. "You’re playing like a girl" I taunted her. She smiled and began to focus on the task at hand. This time she rolled an almost perfect game.

"Who’s playing like a girl now? She asked. I smiled at her happy to have my friend back if only for awhile.

We played a few more games and decided that it was time to resume our walk towards the pizza stand on the far south side of the boardwalk. Fratellis’ Pizzeria had been on the boardwalk for a long time and we often would go there for a slice. It was one of many establishments that were open year round. Sam was still in quiet mode, but it was ok. We often walked the boards in silence each of us lost in our own thoughts. "What kind of pizza do you want Sam, my treat?" I asked her. It was rare that I parted so easily with my cash. She looked at me and actually asked me if I was all right.

We sat at a table eating our food and though it was still early, the place was starting to fill up. "You want another slice?" Sam asked.

"Maybe later" I said. It was time I thought for a walk on the sand. "Come on Sam, lets take off our shoes and go for a walk on the beach." She followed along without a sound. Damn, back in silent mode again. OK,, two could play that game I supposed. We came to the ramp that led down to the sand and removed our shoes. Nothing’s worse than walking about with bits of sand eating at your feet. The ocean was about three hundred feet from the boardwalk. Suddenly I shouted to her. "last one to the water’s a rotten egg" and began running as fast as I could to the ocean’s edge. She stood there just for a moment watching me run and then shrugged her shoulders and decided to join in. It wasn’t long before she overtook me and got her feet wet first. I have to admit that I wasn’t trying my hardest to win, but was once again attempting to shake Sam out of her mood. She started laughing gleefully and I could feel a great weight being lifted from my shoulders. Sometimes I worried about my own feelings for her. At times, I didn’t even understand myself.

We walked along water’s edge and listened to the crashing surf as our feet were embraced by the waves. It was only late May and the water temperature would be cold until August rolled around. We didn’t usually walk too far, but today we actually walked under the north end pier and for quite a ways beyond that. The beach here was quite empty and finally I walked up the mound of sand just beyond the surf’s reach. I sat myself down hoping that Sam would follow suit. She did and without words I began constructing a sand castle. She started making tsk’ing sounds implying that my architectural design was lacking. I shrugged my shoulders at her and told her that if she had a better idea to go with it. She did, and she did. Half an hour later we sat admiring our work as the tide came in and began biting at the moat surrounding our castle. We moved a bit further up on the beach watching and waiting for the ocean to claim our efforts.

Sitting there staring out in the vastness of the Atlantic, feeling the sun’s warmth beating down on my shoulders, listening to the crashing waves and the sound of the gulls , and having my best friend there beside me, I was in heaven. Out of the blue Sam said "remember that game we used to play when we were kids?"

Shaken from my reverie I looked up at her and simply replied "huh?"

"You know, boy/girl?" I laughed recalling the game that we had played for many years until recently.

The rules of the game were simple (as we designed them). We would enter the surf up to our necks and if a wave came and crashed down on our heads, we would automatically switch gender. One having been so stricken by a wave had to yell out the resulting gender. "boy" Sam would exclaim as often as she was able and "girl" I would reply having been overcome by the same wave. Of course, one would remain stuck in the resulting gender until another wave came crashing overhead to change you back. In the event that no such wave was forthcoming, the player had to remain in that gender mode for an indeterminable amount of time. It was hard to discern Sam in "boy" mode from her normal actions, but she always insisted that I act a girly girl. This would give our mothers waiting on the beach for our safe return no end of amusement. And yes, in such circumstances Sam would call me Joan despite my not having called her Samantha. Our mothers thought it was a riot as I pranced and sashayed about. I wasn’t an effeminate boy, and perhaps that’s what added to the humor for them.

"Yes Sam, I remember the game" I finally replied. She stood up smiling and held her hand out to me. For some strange reason I’d been wanting to hold her hand for some time now and didn’t consider the consequences as I took her hand and she pulled me to my feet. She held my hand tighter still and my knees went weak. Suddenly she began pulling me towards the water. "Sam, what the hell are you doing?" I screamed. She laughed in response and continued pulling me towards the ocean. "Are you insane?" I asked in a futile attempt at reason. She laughed louder still and kept pulling. Soon we were in the ocean up to our knees and the waves were indeed turbulent that day. I was visibly shivering, teeth chattering, but Sam seemed perfectly calm. She refused to let go of my hand.

"Here comes a big one!" she shouted. I braced myself and tried to time my jump with the water in attempt to ride safely over the top of the wave. Sam, however, had other ideas and pulled me under the wave. She screamed deliriously and screamed as soon as she knew I could hear her… "BOY!"… she looked at me and waited till I responded appropriately… "girl." She then proceeded to drag us out of the ocean’s grasp before another wave could hit and change us magically back.

"Well Joan, what do you want to do now?" she asked. I looked up at her both quizzically and expectantly and she read the look in my eyes. "I’m sorry" she said at last. Although the sun was warm and it was not far past mid-day, I began to shiver.

"Sam, I know I’ve promised not to ask again, but, just what is going on?" I could see a few tears beginning to slowly trickle down her cheeks. She looked so sad that tears began forming in my eyes as well. After a few minutes I prodded yet again…"Sam?"… This time there was no stopping the river that began flowing down her cheeks nor the wail of a mortally wounded animal. I gently sat her down and put my arms around her. I cradled her head and whispered soothingly in her ears that whatever it was, it was all going to be all right.

She continued sobbing and I rocked her gently in my arms until at last, tears spent, she fell asleep. I stared down at this wondrous creature cradled safely in my arms and felt an inner sense of peace. Funny, I’d never noticed just how beautiful she was before. I honestly felt at one with the universe. A fair amount of time passed I noticed, having seen the sun move somewhat towards the western sky. Finally, Sam began to slowly awaken. I smiled at her and in a tiny voice I asked her "Sam, are you OK?" She almost looked like she was going to start crying again but simply responded "yes."

"Sam, you have to tell me what’s wrong or I’m going to lose my mind."

She looked up at me and said "I know, I’m sorry John." I waited patiently for her to continue. "John, my body is changing. I’ve done everything I can to prevent it, but it’s just not working anymore." "You remember that shopping trip I had to go on with my mother yesterday? It was to buy this" and she slowly lifted up her shirt to show me the bra underneath. I sat there not knowing what to say and waited for her to continue. "I’ve started bleeding too" she said at last. Having said that she began softly sobbing again. My mind raced towards sex education classes and their content. There had been so much giggling and joking in those classes that I hadn’t learned a heck of a lot. Still, I knew enough to know that Sam was becoming a woman despite her best efforts to grow into a man.

She began crying softly this time. Looked me straight in the eyes as I held her and said "do you love me Joan?" My mind was awash in thoughts as her question attempted to reach my brain. Did I love her?.. Joan?….

She looked up at me with such innocence, her eyes open wide that I found myself staring into two limpid pools of deep blue. I knew I would gladly drown in her gaze. "Yes, Sam, I love you."

She remained in prone position with me cradling her in my arms and slowly lifted my now dry shirt. She started to slowly kiss me all over my chest which was totally devoid of hair. I sat there embarrassed, yet I also felt strange new feelings surging through my body. I wanted to push her away and pull her closer at the same time. Finally, she began suckling on my left nipple and I gently stroked her hair as she did. We remained in that position for the longest time. Once again, she drifted off to sleep with her mouth firmly attached to my nipple. I held her close, continued stroking her hair, and hummed soothingly while she slept. Neither one of us were wearing watches but it was clear as the sun drifted further off to the west that it was time to think about going home.

"Sam, wake up, we’d better get going" I implored. She awoke with a smile on her face, kissed me quickly on the lips and laughed. I was totally taken aback and found myself muttering "whuh???" Sam had simply never kissed me on the lips before. She laughed again and told me that I’d better get a move on or I’d be late in getting home.

We both stood up tentatively, brushed as much sand from ourselves as we could and walked along ocean’s edge till we came to the beginnings of the boardwalk. Having reached it, Sam looked at me and smiled. She took my hand in hers and we made our way back home. A feeling of contentment engulfed me. I’d never felt this way before………..

Chapter 3

What’s Going On?

Sam and I continued our walk homeward. The smile on my face was so broad that it actually hurt. As we grew nearer Sam’s grasp on my hand grew more tentative. Finally, about a block from our destination (my home) Sam released my hand entirely. I reached for it again, without thinking. Having found my target I was dismayed as she pushed it away. The day began crashing down all around me. Sam, I wanted to cry, I thought you loved me? My heart continued to sink as we neared my abode. Reaching down deep, as far as I could, I said to her "you want to do something after dinner?" not sure if she sensed the hopelessness in my voice.

"I think that’s enough for today, Joan" was all she replied. I stood there silently, broken, and in defeat wondering just how it had come to this?…

Less than an hour had passed. The love of my life was sending me such conflicting messages I didn’t know what to make of them or anything else for that matter. We stood at my front door staring deep into each other’s eyes for just a moment before Sam headed off down the street whistling to herself.

Opening the front door I announced myself "Mom, I’m home!" silence greeted me. I heard a soft whimpering in the background and I tentatively inquired " that you, Shandy?" a short "woof" greeted me as I progressed further into the living room. "Hey girl, how are you?" I cooed at my beloved cocker spaniel. Shandy had been a birthday gift eons ago it seemed and I had ignored her for far too long. "Shandy!" I exclaimed as I hugged her in my arms. Tears began rolling down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure why but I hugged her closer and she woofed happily in my arms. Still sensing that something was amiss, I tried again "Mom, Dad, anybody there?"

At long last my mother replied "John, is that you?"

My heart descended from my throat and back into it’s proper place as I simply replied "yes, I’m home."

"You’d best go and get cleaned up for dinner as your father will be home at any minute" Still in a confused state, I smiled at my dog and treaded slowly up the stairs to the bathroom in hopes that a clean face would help me make sense of the day that had just passed. Fifteen minutes later my father arrived and his first words upon entering were "what’s for dinner?" It’s silly, but those words brought me back to reality, and gave me hope. Hell, I didn’t care what was for dinner, I was just happy to be alive and to be home. This being the weekend my father didn’t feel required to ask me how my day had gone. For that, I was thankful. Not sure what I would have responded anyway? It was great Dad! Sam and I took a walk on the beach we made a sand castle, she cried in my arms and sucked on my nipple till it turned purple! Somehow, I don’t think that would have gone over too well.

I sat in my chair uneasily waiting for the adults to finish so I could do my chores: clean the table wash the dishes and be done for the evening. Mom shouted that she wanted to see some new picture at the cinema. Dad groaned in reply telling her that he was simply too exhausted to do anything. I stood silently listening carefully trying to ascertain whether anyone’s plans included me. Finally Mom said "fine, John and I will just go shopping then." Ahhhhhhhh lovely, a Saturday evening spent shopping with my mother. Oh joy! (that was pure sarcasm in case you didn’t get it).

"John,, go and get dressed, we are going shopping!" Mom announced as she walked into the kitchen carrying just a few more plates for me to wash. I looked into her eyes… pleading with her.. are you sure? they asked. Once Mom had made up her mind there was no reasoning with her. "Go" was all she said. I ran up into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Something had changed, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. I seemed older somehow.

I went into my bedroom took off my salt-soaked jeans and traded them for a clean pair. I rooted through my dresser for the most offensive tee shirt I could find. I settled on the one which read "Life’s short, party hearty" with a picture of some kind of brutal caricature on the back. It had been a gift from my Aunt Melissa (my mother’s sister) who had followed her husband to Queensland years ago in search of a better life. I’d never worn it and it still had the tags in it. The damned thing was actually purple and yellow. I was sure that Mom would never let me accompany her wearing that shirt. I wasn’t sure I’d want to accompany myself wearing that thing. I laughed at my image in the mirror and ran down the stairs shouting, "OK, I’m ready, let’s go!"

Mom looked at me, I could see anger building in her eyes. Then, she burst out laughing. That’s the shirt that Mel sent you, isn’t it? Knowing perfectly well that it was. "That tee shirt is not for wearing, young man." I knew better than to ask her just what it was for then. She made me run back upstairs and put on a proper sport shirt. Curses, foiled again! I came back downstairs to her careful inspection. This time she nodded at me and we were out the door. Sitting in the car next to her she commented "you were very quiet during dinner. Did everything go all right with Sam?" I was half-tempted to tell her about Sam’s very strange behavior that afternoon but decided in the end that I’d have to work that one out for myself. I simply replied "yes Mom, it was fine." She gave me a quick but skeptical glance and let the matter pass.

"Well Joan, what would you like to do this evening at the mall?"

"Not you too?" I said without thinking.

"What do you mean?" she inquired. I let out a sigh and explained that now Sam had insisted on calling me "Joan." Mom laughed and said, "Well, it is your middle name." Mom’s name was Clara Joan. She hated the name Clara and few knew that it was her first name. Her friends called her either Joan or simply CJ. When Dad came up with the John Johnson thing Mom said it would be all right as long as my middle name was Joan. Dad considered it for a moment and then thought that the initials JJJ would be kind of cool and also figured that no one ever need know my middle name anyway, so he didn’t object.

"Yes Mom, I know my middle name" I sighed. "But Sam doesn’t know it, does she?"

She gave me a look that asked for forgiveness and it all made sense to me now. "I’m sorry John" was all she said.

Oh well, one mystery solved. Part of me was hoping that’s all it was with Sam and yet, another part of me didn’t think that was enough of an explanation. There wasn’t anything I could do about it at the moment, so I put those thoughts aside for now. It took awhile longer but we finally arrived at the shopping center. Having my last plan of escape in mind, I’d been sure to wear a watch this evening I said "OK Mom, we’re here. It’s now 7:30 PM on the dot.. Where and at what time shall I meet you?" Once again, her look said it all. I wouldn’t be spending the evening in the arcade or the record shops but was destined to accompany my mother for whatever it was she had in mind. I sighed audibly.

She exited the car and simply said "Let’s go."

My fourteenth birthday just weeks away and here I was at the mall on a Saturday night with my mother! Could things get any worse than this? We entered the ground floor and Mom began moving with a purpose. We neared a store full of mannequins dressed in fancy clothes. Not knowing anything about female attire, I’d no better way of describing them. "Monique’s Boutique" read the sign hanging over the front entranceway. Oh no! We weren’t going in there, were we? "Come on John" she said as she literally dragged me into the shop.

Saturday evenings were quite busy times for the shopkeepers in this part of the state. It was a destination place for many of the locals on a Saturday not caring to encounter the myriad of weirdoes that flocked to the boardwalk on the weekends. Of course, I much preferred the boardwalk and its carnival like atmosphere. But here, surrounded by females of all ages, I felt extremely uncomfortable. A few giggles from those nearby staring at us as we passed. My hand now firmly locked in my mother’s embrace. I simply wanted to die.

"Well John, we do have to attend your cousin Melissa’s wedding in August and I’m in need of something new and appropriate to wear." Yes, Aunt Melissa had named her daughter Melissa. The doctors had told Mom shortly after I was born that she’d be unable to have any more children. There wouldn’t be any "Clara Joan Junior." This also helped explain my middle name. My cousin Melissa had been in freshman year at college when her parents had moved and she was very happy here in the north east. In fact, in the five years since my Aunt had moved, my cousin had never made the trek down under.
I didn’t really know my cousin well. She was quite a few years older than me and she only came around once a year during the Christmas holidays.

Mom finally released her grip on my hand and began systematically going through the racks of dresses. Every now and then she’d pull one out, hold it against herself, move this way and that, look in the mirror, and if she was satisfied, she’d ask me for my opinion. The first few times she’d done that, I simply gave her a look that told her I had no idea what she wanted from me. On the third try, when I repeated my deer in the headlights trick, she said "Come on now Joan, what do you think?" At that point I simply thought of running for the exit. In my tender eyes, this smacked of child abuse. Her look and attitude told me that I’d hurt her somehow. We stood there for a moment staring at one another. Both of us seemed ready to burst into tears.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and reached deep within myself. "It’s very pretty Mom, why don’t you go and try it on?" A look of relief swept over her. Though she was only a few steps away, a huge smile appeared on her face and she rushed at me grabbing me in a tight embrace and whispered in my ear, "thank you."

Mom tried on that dress and though it did look stunning on her, she simply couldn’t make up her mind. She repeated the procedure several times more after that and each time I gave her my honest opinion. After awhile I became quite proficient in noticing just what looked good on her and what didn’t. I still had no clue however as to the reasons why. In the end she decided that it wasn’t something she had to buy at that moment and we left the store without making a purchase.

We walked through the mall and the overwhelming aroma of fresh pastries assaulted us. "I could do with a cup of coffee, would you like something?" Having mostly played with my food at dinner time, I was quite hungry and agreed that a piece of pie would be good. I didn’t normally drink coffee but that evening Mom insisted and so we sat down at a table, me with my coffee and coconut custard and she with her cappuccino and apple slice.
"So, are you having an OK time with your poor old mother?" She was sensitive enough to know better than to ask me if I was having a "good" time.

"To be honest Mom, this wouldn’t have been my first choice as to how to spend a Saturday evening, but yes, it seems to be turning out all right." She smiled at that. We finished up and headed back into the main mall.

We seemed to be wandering about aimlessly, but in retrospect I’m not sure that was the case at all. A jewelry store caught mom’s eye and she stopped to stare at the display cases. "Ever thought about getting your ears pierced John?" The shop window was filled with earrings. "What???" I wanted to scream at her. I was tempted to inform her that though it was acceptable these days, most boys still didn’t get their ears pierced. Sensing her delicate state and not wanting to upset her I informed her that it wasn’t at the top of my list of things to do. She smiled at my reply, grabbed my hand and started pulling me inside the store. Oh no, not again I thought to myself. This simply couldn’t be happening! We walked on slowly. Mom found a clerk and informed her that her son would like to have his ears pierced. "Oh that’s great!" she said. How many holes would you like in each lobe? I stood there speechless. After a moment’s silence Mom replied "I should think one hole in each ear should do for now." Oh my God! This was really happening! I was taken to the back of the store and sat down in what appeared to be a type of barber chair. The clerk came out with a box of starter earrings to choose from. The ones that were more "nails" than earrings.

It’s funny, but I had actually considered getting my ears pierced a few times. Some of my favorite musical artists were always seen flashing their studded ears about. Still, this was reality and I wasn’t sure I had the courage to parade around wearing earrings. Mom seemed so excited as she viewed the offerings. She asked me if I had any preferences and not wanting to appear to be too "into it" I simply told her no, I didn’t. She selected a pair and the attendant loaded one of the studs into the gun. Mom grabbed hold of my hand and stared at me with a far away look in her eyes as the clerk made a black dot on either side of my head with a felt tipped pen. "SNAP!" went the gun. I was totally amazed that it hadn’t hurt. Well, not really hurt. It was more like a brief sting. The clerk admired her work and then made sure that the dot on my other ear was properly aligned before moving to the other side of the chair and completing the job. "They look very nice" she said and asked my mother if there would be anything else.

For a moment, my mother looked at her, looked at me, and finally shook her head no and said that would be all. Just what had gotten into her? She paid the bill and we left. "If you’re a good girl I’ll get you some diamond studs for your birthday Joan." Had the world gone mad? I walked on in silence pretending that I hadn’t heard her. Finally she asked me "you do like them, don’t you John?" I guess she figured that addressing me properly would cause me to respond, and it did.

"They’re all right" I said

"But?" she inquired.

How was I going to explain to her how difficult it would be for me to be seen expressing myself in this way. "No, buts Mom. Thank you, I like them very much." Upon
hearing that she smiled and we made our way to the exit. I felt like everyone was staring at me still, I decided to hold my head high and keep my eyes straight ahead.

Mom took my gesture as one of pride and said "You do like them, don’t you?"

We finally made it to the car and on the way home Mom started talking about the dresses she had tried on. It almost seemed as though she were testing me, seeing if I could recall this one and that. Surprisingly I remembered them all and again offered her my opinion as to which one I thought would suit her best. We arrived home and Mom put the car in the garage. HOME! OH NO! what was my father going to say? Mom sensing my nervousness insisted that it was going to be all right. She’d tell Dad that it had indeed been her idea and that she was very pleased with my appearance. Somehow I didn’t think this argument was going to cut any ice with Dad. We went into the living room and Dad was asleep in his chair with the television on. For the moment, I was saved.

Although it wasn’t yet 10 PM I told my mother I was heading off to bed. She seemed a bit disappointed but came over and gave me a hug. "Rest well sweetheart" she said as I headed for the stairs. I gave her a brief smile and headed up to my bedroom. I stopped and stared at myself in the mirror attached to the back of my bedroom door. Holy cow! I had earrings! It seemed ages ago that I’d been sitting on the beach with Sam holding her gently in my arms.

I brushed my teeth, grabbed a pair of pajamas and made myself ready for bed. I was more tired than I had realized…….

Notes:

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