Synopsis:

The school year ends. Joan attends the meeting for transgendered teens and someone's secret is exposed!

Story:

Chapter 22

Collide

Friday morning! I couldn’t believe it! I was so excited I nearly jumped out of my skin as I ran to the bathroom in the buff. No need to worry about modesty, Mom was never up this early. I showered and shaved. Drying off and viewing my image in the bathroom mirror, I began thinking about hair styles. I really didn’t know much about them. I wanted something that was both pretty and easy to care for. I wondered if Darla would have some time after school for a consultation. I didn’t want to make such monumental decisions alone or on the spur of the moment.

I got dressed quickly and realized I’d have to do some laundry tomorrow. A woman’s work is never done, I thought and laughed to myself. Bed made and triplets in place atop my pillow I made my way downstairs. I figured if Darla had time to see me that afternoon, I’d return Jola to her. I wondered if she’d forgotten about her? I ate some cereal then thought about what to do for lunch when I remembered that I wouldn’t be needing to bring lunch with me that day. It’s funny, but I found myself both happy and sad about that. I was going to miss having lunch with the girls. Yeah, even with the wicked Sarah! I took care of the dog, woke Mom up and made one last trip to the bathroom. I decided that I was going to wear a coat of my "invisible" lipstick. Even if it wasn’t noticeable, I’d still feel it on my lips and smell its sweet fragrance. The task completed I began to put the tube back in the medicine cabinet when I decided at last to put it in my pants’ pocket.

I exited the front door and screamed for the world to hear, "Good morning Sam!" It’s a good thing we didn’t live near a cemetery as my shout would have surely awakened the dead. I was surprised to find that Sam had in fact heard my yell. He came running out of the house and asked me what was wrong. "Nothing’s wrong Sam!" I screamed in return. Damn, I felt happy this morning. I’d have the whole summer to be Joan. I hoped Mr. Ferris could handle having a young lady working for him as opposed to a young man. I decided that I’d worry about that on Monday. Sam came running out to greet me in the middle of the street. He dropped his bag. Grabbed me in a big bear hug and spun me around like a toy.

"Whoa there big fella," I said laughing, "I’m getting dizzy here."

"You’re getting dizzy?" he replied snidely. "Joan, you’re one of the dizziest people that I’ve ever known," he said and began laughing. Taking no offense, I laughed with him. I was half-tempted to punch him in the arm, but I didn’t want him returning the favor. My own bruise had finally faded, I didn’t want another one. He hugged me again and kissed me tenderly before gently releasing me. We began walking. "Joan, I’ve got to tell you!" he said excitedly. "The coach came again last night and he told me I had a shot at making the county all star team."

"That’s fantastic Sam!" I told him. Of course, I found myself wondering just how that would affect our relationship. I knew that if he got involved in that, he wouldn’t be around much at all this summer.

"Why so sad?" he asked as he noticed the doleful expression that encompassed my face. I decided that I wasn’t going to brush it off, that I’d tell him what was on my mind.

"I’m going to miss you Sam," I said woefully.

"Well, you could come to the games when I’m pitching and cheer me on," he suggested. I could see myself sitting in the stands wearing a mini skirt rooting for my boyfriend to strike the bums out.

"Maybe," I thought aloud.

"You’d better come when I pitch," he said finally and wrapped his arm firmly around my ever thinning waist. We arrived at school. Everyone was standing outside. Without a word, Sam ran off to join Billy and company. I stood there feeling a bit rejected, but I knew Sam was really excited at the prospect of playing ball for real.

"Goodbye Sam," I whispered to the wind.

I stood there alone waiting for the bell to ring. A brief wave of despair washed over me. I literally shook myself out of it as the bell rang and the throng made its way inside. "Boys," I muttered to myself as I entered the building and took my seat for home room. The announcement was made that we were to return to home room at 11:45 to receive our report cards. In previous years we’d been given them at the start of the day. That had led to too much disruption and more than a few disappearing students. I wasn’t anxious in the least about receiving my grades.

The classes that day really weren’t classes at all. It seemed we’d no sooner take our seats, attendance was taken, and the bell rang for us to move to the next class. The teachers didn’t even attempt to maintain order. The building was abuzz with laughter and tales of plans for the summer. I took Mom’s jewelry box and barely squeezed it into my empty back pack. Mr. Ferris came over and offered me an assortment of different grades of sandpaper. He also gave me the lacquer and cheesecloth I’d need to finish the job. "I expect you promptly at 9:00 AM on Monday morning," he told me and smiled. "Oh, and bring me a picture of your project when it’s finished," he added.

The rest of the morning was a blur. Soon I was back in homeroom waiting for Mrs. Pembroke to call my name so I could retrieve my report card. I went back to my seat and pulled the card out of its sleeve with great fanfare. I hadn’t received straight A’s. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I’d gotten a "B" in physical education. I almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all. The only reason I could imagine for that was my beaning of Billy a few weeks ago. I could see in my mind’s eye a line on my "permanent record" somewhere which read; "a good student but does not play well with others."

The final bell rang and chaos ensued. As we made our way out the door I found myself shouting to Darla, "Darla! Have you got a minute?"

"What’s up Joan?" she asked.

"I was wondering if I could come over later to discuss potential hair styles?" I asked her in as serious a voice as I could muster.

"We can do that in the morning," she replied.

"Please?" I begged.

"Well a few of the girls are coming over and we’re going to be swimming," she explained.

"Oh!" was all I was able to manage. I turned away hiding the tears that were building in my eyes.

"Would you like to come over too?" she asked me.

Feeling like the fifth wheel of a four wheeled vehicle I replied, "that’s ok, we can do it in the morning." She heard the sadness in my voice and begged me to come over later.

I really wanted to go over there again. I thought I’d made some good friends. Had I been deluding myself? I didn’t want to be anyone’s object of pity. Darla saw the resolve forming in my eyes.

"Please come Joan!" she exclaimed.

"Is 2:00 PM ok?" I found myself asking her.

"Perfect!" she replied and was off like a shot. Once again Sam was nowhere in sight as I exited the building. I wasn’t going to stand around waiting for him this afternoon. I walked home slowly. My spirit filled with a sea of turbulent emotions. Walking in the front door I announced to no one, "I’m home!" I was indeed feeling sorry for myself. Shandy, hearing my greeting came woofing gratefully at me. I almost felt guilty knowing that I hadn’t been calling her.

She wagged her tail maniacally as her front paws assaulted my knees. I dropped my bag and bent down to pet her. "How’s my favorite girl today?" I asked her playfully. I gave her some lunch and clean water. As she ate, I contemplated my own lunch. There was still a bit of chicken remaining so that’s what I had. Mom was right about my tuna casserole. I’d totally botched the dish. Maybe the dog would eat it, I thought and laughed to myself.

Lunch finished, I made my way up to my room. I was a girl with a mission. I put Mom’s jewelry box away. Hidden temporarily in the back of my closet. I donned my red skort and matching top. I then removed the skort as I couldn’t put my pantyhose on over it. "Whoops!" I thought laughing softly. I carefully made up my face. Putting on the eyeliner was perhaps the most difficult task. A very steady hand was required. I finished the look with a coat of my new lipstick. The dark pink really looked pretty against my tanned skin. I cleaned off my nails and went with the dark red polish. I had a bit of time and decided to do my toes as well. I smiled as I thought about running around Darla’s back yard in my new suit and painted extremities.

With fingers and toes dried, I considered my next actions. This was going to be the hard part. I opened my little fireproofed safe and began counting my money. All told I had $325 at the moment. I took $250 of it and put the rest away. I actually felt nervous holding that much money. I took the bills and tucked them safely into my purse. I packed a few towels and my new suit in my knapsack. I was going to look like a homeless person with all the baggage I’d be carrying around with me. I laughed at the image in my mind’s eye. I gave myself a stern glance and told myself, "you can do this," as I made my way downstairs and out the door.

As I made my way downtown I thought about what I was going to do. I took a deep breath and made my way into the bank. "Can I help you Miss?" a voice asked. I explained that I’d like to open an account. "You’ll have to see Mrs. Holley," the voice informed me and pointed me off in the proper direction. The elderly lady sat behind a huge wooden desk.

"Can I help you dear?" she asked me. I explained to her that I’d seen the sign in the window advertising free checking with no fees whatsoever and no minimum balance required. "What does a young girl like yourself need with a checking account?" she asked with genuine concern in her voice. I explained to her that I would be working this summer and wanted to keep my money in the bank.

She then suggested a savings account. "Can I get one of those cards to gain access to my money with a savings account?" I asked her. She appeared confused for a moment.

The light came on over her head as she replied, "No dear, I’m afraid not. For that you are going to need a checking account."

"Can you open one for me?" I asked her.

"How old are you dear?" she asked. I told her I’d just turned fifteen. It seemed that wasn’t good enough. You had to be 18 to open an account on your own. She told me that she’d begin the process of opening my account, but I’d have to return with a parent’s signature before I could gain access to my money. I didn’t think this was fair, but what could I do? I gave her my $250 and she gave me a receipt for my funds.

"I see you’re not quite fifteen," she said looking over my application. She eyed me suspiciously. I added a year, but didn’t lie about my birthday. My heart began to beat faster. "It’s all right dear," she informed me. "Just bring back that application card with your parent’s signature and we’ll order your ATM card for you. You seem like a very industrious young lady. Your parents must be very proud." I sat across from her turning several shades of red as she dismissed me. I considered forging my mother’s signature but finally decided that she wouldn’t give me a hard time about it. I can’t begin to explain the joy that I felt as I stared at my name on the receipt; "Joan Clara Johnson," it read. Yes, I’d taken my mother’s own first name as my middle one. I couldn’t very well keep my own middle name, could I? I thought about that and laughed as I made my way to Darla’s.

It was a few minutes after two when I arrived at the Raspberry home. "Joan!" Aunt Viv exclaimed. "I’m glad you could make it. The girls are out back. Why don’t you go upstairs and change?" she suggested. I felt strange wandering around the house alone. Still, I didn’t want to change in the bath house out back. I could see Sarah walking in on me as I put my breast forms in my bathing suit.

"Thanks Aunt Viv," I said and gave her a hug. "I’ll be down in a minute," I said as I raced up the stairs. I stared at myself in Darla’s full length mirror. I felt a bit anxious about the whole thing. "What would Joan do?" I thought and laughed again. Sometimes I thought that I laughed too much. I knew I’d forgotten something. No flip flops for me. Oh well, barefoot worked too.

Aunt Viv smiled at me as I made my way to the sliding glass doors. "I love your suit," she told me. I thanked her and smiled at her in return. Here goes nothing, I thought as I made my way into the backyard.

"Joan’s here!" Sally exclaimed as I made my way to the pool.

"You didn’t think you were going to get rid of me that easily?" I said with laughter in my voice. The other girls were already in the pool. I climbed the steps of the slide and pushed myself off quickly. I was surrounded by girls splashing water in my face as I rose to the surface. I attempted to fend them off, but they’d have none of it. I was the target of the moment. They giggled as they attempted to keep me from catching my breath. I inhaled as deeply as I could and dove under the water. Opening my eyes, I sought out a target of my own. There to my left, a pair of feet were firmly planted on the pool’s bottom. I maneuvered around and came up with my head between her legs. As I stood up I dumped her backwards over my shoulders.

I couldn’t have picked a worse target if I’d tried. Sarah came up gasping for air and the girls turned their splashing attentions on her. Better her than me, I thought and laughed along with them. I didn’t splash Sarah however. I’d save such actions for friends and friends only.

"Sorry Sarah!" I said. "I didn’t know it was you!" I tried again.

Sally emitted a shrill laugh as Sarah exclaimed "I’ll bet!" There were two new girls in attendance. Mary, I’d seen before at school. The other girl was a total mystery to me. Darla performed the introductions.

"Joan, you already know Mary. Mary was sick last week and couldn’t make it to the party. This other young lady is my cousin Dani. Dani’s staying with us for awhile. She lives in Florida!" Darla exclaimed as if the sunshine state was a far away and mysterious place. Apparently Darla had told Mary about me. Thankfully, she made no gender remarks.

"I guess we’re never going to get rid of you John," Sarah said with a touch of anger in her voice. Darla told her to just calm down. Since there were six of us, Darla suggested a game of volleyball. I thought back to the game last weekend. Thankfully Fran wasn’t here today, I thought and rubbed the bridge of my nose remembering the pain. We chose up sides. Darla and Sally were team captains. It was me, Sally, and Mary against Darla, Sarah, and Dani. The time simply flew by. Only Sarah seemed concerned with who was winning and who was losing. As best I could tell, it had been a draw.

"Darla, I’ve had a wonderful time, but I have to get going in a few minutes. Could I see you alone?" I asked pleadingly. She knew what I wanted to talk to her about. She told the other girls that she had to go inside for a few minutes but would return shortly. "Thanks Darl," I said to her warmly.

"If we don’t help each other out, then who will?" she replied. Toweled dry we sat at her kitchen table going over a book that seemed dedicated to various hair styles. "Knowing your face and your lifestyle, I’d suggest the following choices," she said pointing at several pictures.

"You don’t have a copying machine, do you?" I asked her. They had everything else, I thought they might have one of those too.

"Nope," she replied. "Just take the book with you. Be sure and bring it back tomorrow morning though, ok Joan?" she asked. I promised her that I would and made my way back upstairs to change. "Oh, by the way Joan," she said after me, "I love your new suit. Did you choose the red for me?" If I hadn’t been half way down the hall, I’d have punched her on the shoulder. I smiled at her and ran up to change.

Five minutes later I was on my way home. It was ten minutes to five when I arrived. I’d never have time to make dinner. I really liked being able to help out at home, but sometimes it just seemed so overwhelming. In a perfect world I’d be free to stay and play with the other girls. I didn’t even look at the menu posted on the refrigerator. Instead, I called the local pizza place and ordered a large cheese pie. I told them not to deliver it till six o’clock. I hoped Mom wouldn’t be annoyed with me. I had time to make salads. With just Mom and me, the pizza would last for two meals. I hated to spend my money this way, but saw no other way out. I found myself getting nervous about the evening’s pending events. I decided to tell Mom about the bank account tonight and get the signature card back to the bank in the morning. Then for some reason, I found myself wondering what Sam was doing?

In some ways we were closer than ever, yet in other ways it seemed we were further apart. I guess I relied on him more than I’d realized. Just as I was thinking about him, he called.

"Joan?" he asked.

"What’s up Sam?" I asked in return. "I just wanted to know if you were up for a trip to the beach in the morning," he said.

"Sorry Sam, I can’t go in the morning. I’m going to get a hair cut," I told him. I didn’t want to tell him about my appointment at the hairdresser’s. I wanted it to be a surprise.

"Well, can’t you get it cut another time? You’ve got all summer."

"Sam, Mom made this appointment for me," I said without further explanation. "I’ll call you as soon as I get home. I should be home around lunch time," I said vaguely.

"You’re still going to that meeting tonight?" he asked.

I laughed nervously before responding ,"yeah Sam, I am."

"Well, you can tell me all about it tomorrow then," he suggested.

"Are you sure you don’t want to come with me tonight?" I asked again. He seemed as if he wanted to come, but wasn’t ready to commit to anything. After a few moments of total silence I said, "it’s all right Sam. And, of course I’ll tell you all about the meeting tomorrow! Wish me luck?" I begged.

"Good or bad?" he wanted to know.

"Ha Ha," I said sardonically. "OK Sam, I’ll call you tomorrow when I get home then?" I asked him unable to think of anything else to say.

"I love you Joan," he said out of nowhere.

"Thanks Sam, I really needed to hear that," and I did. "I love you too Sam, always," and with that I hung up the phone.

Well, we weren’t going to have the scheduled spaghetti and meat balls for dinner, but at least I was keeping with the italian theme. I figured I’d use the ground beef on the grill tomorrow. It would be my first experience cooking with charcoal. How hard could it be? Mom arrived and I served up her gin and tonic. "I don’t smell your delicious meatballs cooking?" Mom said inquisitively.

"Sorry Mom, I got caught up at Darla’s this afternoon and didn’t have time to cook. Our food should be arriving shortly."

"It’s not so easy running a household, is it Missy?" she said to me. I laughed at that and told her I thought I was doing a fine job. She laughed with me in agreement.

While waiting for the pizza to arrive, I ran up to my bedroom and sighed as I removed another $15 from my dwindling reserves. I reminded myself that I hadn’t spent all my money, I’d just put it in the bank. I couldn’t wait to get my ATM card with my "real" name embossed in the plastic. For that to happen, I was going to have to talk to Mom, and soon! The doorbell rang just as I was returning downstairs. I got to the front door before Mom could and paid for the pizza. I knew she’d have paid for it if I’d stayed upstairs a while longer. This was going to be my treat. It was after all my mistake, I thought as I exchanged 3/4ths of my weekly allowance for one evening’s meal. I carried the box into the kitchen with a smile on my face. The satisfactory smile of one who "provides" for her family.

Thankfully, Mom had set out the salad while I’d been upstairs. "Thanks for helping out Mom," I told her.

"Thanks for dinner," Mom said and came over to give me a hug. We sat there eating for a bit when I told Mom about my new bank account. "But you already have a savings account at First Federal?" she stated obliquely.

"Mom, I need a debit card. There are times I want to buy something and don’t have the money with me. I’m not going to start carrying large amounts of cash in my purse," I said with determination.

"Large amounts of cash?" she inquired. "Just what are you planning on buying, Joan?"

"Mom, can you just help me out here? It’s not going to cost you anything," I promised.

Finally, she relented. Her face broke into a huge smile as she saw my application form. "So, you’re going to be 15 in a few weeks? Did I miss a year somewhere? And, your middle name is "Clara?"" she asked and began laughing.

"Thanks Mom," I said as she took her pen and signed the signature cards, handing them back to me upon completion.

"You know, if you didn’t have a job this summer, I wouldn’t have done this," she said. I couldn’t imagine what difference that made, but I simply smiled in response.

At length I said, "I know Mom, and thanks again."

"No problem JC," she said and laughed. "I’m so proud of you Joan," she said and smiled at me.

"I love you Mom," I replied solemnly.

Changing the subject she said, "So, what are you going to wear this evening? I don’t think you should wear your skort, do you?" she asked me. Being Joan was becoming a simple matter of fact for me anymore. I’d totally forgotten how I was dressed.

"I’ve given that a bit of thought," I replied. "I thought perhaps my new jeans with a non-descript tee shirt and my new sneakers?" Mom thought that my proposed outfit sounded just about perfect. I would be appearing "en femme" but not over the top in that regard. I found the entire prospect more daunting than simply going out in public. No one ever questioned my gender when I appeared anywhere as Joan. Tonight, everyone would know that I was something else entirely. I wasn’t too happy about that prospect.

As the time grew nearer to leave, I found myself having more and more doubts about my decision to attend the meeting. "Mom, I’m not sure I feel too good," I said lamely. She smiled at me knowingly and told me to go freshen my lipstick and spray myself with some perfume. It was time to go. I ran upstairs into my bathroom and almost did my best impression of someone suffering from bulimia. I sat on the commode and took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. Why was I having such a hard time with this? I should be happy! I should be excited! I was off to meet other teens like myself! That was it in a nutshell. I didn’t think I was at all "weird" as I assumed the others must be. I was a normal healthy teen-aged --- what?

OK, so I was at least as weird as everyone and anyone I would meet. Did that mean I was ready to face them in this way? No, it didn’t. I adjusted my breast forms, yeah, I was going to wear them and put on a fresh coat of the neutral colored lipstick (Darla’s mauve). I gave myself a pep talk while staring at my reflection in the mirror. "Joan," I reminded myself, "if you feel uncomfortable this evening, you can just leave. Simply tell Mom you made a mistake in coming." OK, so I felt a little weird talking to myself in the mirror. Still, it did help to calm me down.

"OK Mom, I’m ready!" I said as I treaded lightly down the stairs.

"Well, let’s get this over with," she said. We both chuckled nervously. I wasn’t sure which one of us was more distraught. "Joan, we can stop by the bank in the morning on the way to your hair appointment."

"Oh Mom, I almost forgot, Darla’s coming with us in the morning. That’s all right, isn’t it?"

"Of course it is dear. "Your Aunt Viv said you were making something for her?" Damn, I’d forgotten all about Mom’s jewelry box hidden in the back of my closet.

"Yes Mom, I am going to make something for her. In fact, I’ll show you just what when we get home." Thinking of the jewelry box helped distract me as we made our way to the meeting.

We pulled into the parking lot and Mom found a spot not too far away from the entrance. The meeting was taking place in some kind of non-denominational church’s multi-purpose room. I wasn’t sure what persuasion it was (as gods go), and anyway, it didn’t really matter. There weren’t too many cars there. I sat there next to Mom and began weeping softly.

"Joan, you’re a big girl now," Mom said in a comforting tone. A month ago I’d have told Dad to have her committed if she’d made such a statement. So much in my life had changed in such a short period of time. Mom squeezed my hand tightly and simply said, "let’s go." I felt like a condemned prisoner walking that last mile. I had no idea what to expect. I was scared out of my wits. I could watch the most horrific films without offering up a twitch, yet here I was trembling as we made our way into the building.

"Come on Joan," Mom said impatiently. My feet felt glued to the pavement. It was far easier to be brave in theory as opposed to fact. This is what you need to do, I reminded myself. I held Mom’s hand tightly as we made our way inside. There was a small table set up in the foyer with two "normal" looking teens sitting behind a folding table.

"Are you here for the TG meeting?" a girl named Alison asked us. I stood there unable to speak. I felt like that "deaf, dumb, and blind kid," but I couldn’t play pinball worth a lick. Thankfully Mom handled the introductions and we were told to make our way inside. We entered the long rectangular room and sat in the folding chairs provided. I found myself unabashedly surveying the crowd. I didn’t recognize anyone, or did I? No, it couldn’t be?

I made my excuses to Mom who was sitting next to me and told her I needed to use the ladies’. She smiled at me in understanding and told me to take my purse. I took my bag and headed for the familiar face. It couldn’t be, could it, I thought again? As I neared she smiled up at me.

"Did my mother put you up to this?" I asked her.

"No Joan, she didn’t," Darla replied. It reminded me of the time I found out that Santa wasn’t real. I knew that he wasn’t. The Easter Bunny told me so.

"What are you doing here Darla?" I asked her.

"The same thing you are Joan," she replied. I could see that she was about to break down. I was ready for the intensive care unit myself. We grabbed hold of one another and the tears began to flow.

"Maybe now you understand me a bit better?" she said. My mind was in a whirl. At the moment, I’d have believed her if she’d told me that the moon was in fact made of green cheese.

"Oh Darla!" I exclaimed. I couldn’t begin to explain it but everything just made so much more sense now. Somehow, my love for her grew. I needed to talk to her then and there. Mom was waiting for me back at our seats. The meeting was about to come to order. I ran back to our seats and told Mom I had to go outside for a few minutes. I assured her that I was fine and asked her to fill me in when I returned. I can’t remember Mom ever being so understanding.

"Go Joan," was all she said.

I made my way back to Darla. "Come on sister," I said to her. "We have to talk." She picked up her purse and we made our way outside. A million questions entered my head simultaneously. The first one out of my mouth was, "does anyone else know?"

"Not a soul Joan, not a soul," she said in a way to let me know that this was "our secret" and ours alone. "I need a smoke," she said and removed a package of cigarettes from her purse. The evening just had layer of surprise on top of surprise.

"You don’t have one for me?" I asked her before she could put the pack away. She looked at me in bewilderment before an understanding look embraced her. She offered me one of her cigarettes.

My second experience with tobacco in as many days. Was I becoming an addict? I laughed at the absurdity of my thoughts but knew that the repeated behavior would take its toll. Darla lit her cigarette with practiced ease. She held her lighter out to me. She looked at me as if daring me to complete the act. I held the cigarette to my lips and dipped my head in towards the flame. I couldn’t help coughing as I completed the task. She laughed.

"A real smoker, are you?"

"I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore," I replied. At that, her laughter exploded. I joined her and we sat on the curb laughing like a couple of maniacs! It took a few minutes before we could calm down enough to resume our conversation.

She inhaled deeply. This was obviously not something she started doing yesterday. She eyed me expectantly waiting for me to do the same. I tried. I coughed violently. She laughed at me. "It’s ok Joan, you don’t have to smoke to be my friend," she said as she took another hit off of the slender tube.

"I’ve got a million questions for you," I assured her. "When, where, why, and how top the list. I already know who and what," I said laughing.

"Take a bit of the smoke into your lungs," she urged. "It won’t kill you." So, this was the price I’d have to pay to hear her story. "No one knows how to smoke anymore," she said sadly.

"And that’s a bad thing because?" I asked her and my voice trailed off.

"Never mind," she replied.

"OK, in answer to your questions," and she began telling her story. "Well, they are good questions but somewhat out of order." She looked over at me and wouldn’t continue till I sucked a bit more of the foul weed. "That a girl," she said and laughed. "The first question should be why," she continued. "I was ten years old. We were in a horrible car accident. I was in the back seat and not wearing a seat belt. I awoke three days later as Darla. I was born Darin. You can’t begin to imagine what it was like. My whole world had been yanked away from me." I sat there listening to her story and puffing on the cigarette. I’d forgotten totally about the discomfort it was causing me. "So, you now know the when, and why. The how and where are not important," she informed me. She shuddered a bit and I hugged her close.

"Darla, I’m so sorry," was all I could think to say.

"It’s all right Joan. My life is a good one. It always has been. She hugged me in return. "You have arrived "here" from a very different place," she said matter of factly. "Still, my parents knew that I wouldn’t be opposed to the transition. I guess but for that piece of equipment, I’ve always been Darla. If not for the accident, however, I’m not sure I’d be who I am today. Why don’t you tell me your story?" she asked. My story? Did I really have a story to tell, I wondered? It all sounded far more exotic the way she said it than it actually was. OK, it was time for total honesty.

"Darl," I began "Joan was awakened within me just a few short weeks ago. You were there for her birth, in a sense. I’ve always known that I was "different", but didn’t realize just how different until recently." At that she took another cigarette and lit it. She offered her pack to me. I shook her off. A moment later I realized it was not an offer, but a demand. Once again we sat there with lit embers extending from our fingers.

"I’m having a bit of a hard time with this," I told her. She told me that she thought I was adjusting just fine. "That’s not what I meant Darla" I told her sternly. She laughed at my response.

"Are you sure Joan? You looked pretty hot to me sashaying about the mall in your high heels," she said and began laughing. I probably shouldn’t have and yes, I was cheating on Sam, but I grabbed her in my arms and kissed her deeply. This girl that had betrayed me less than a week ago responded to me with a passion I’d never experienced before. "I’ll always love you Joan," she said somewhat wistfully. In a way that I still can’t describe, I felt the same.

"Thanks Darla," I said and kissed her again.

"I guess we should go back inside… You’ve left Aunt Joan sitting there on her own for an awfully long time now," she told me. Who the hell was Aunt Joan, I wondered before I realized she was talking about my mother.

"Darla," I whispered, "I am in complete awe of you," I finished.

"I know you are Joan," she replied. "Don’t worry, it will pass," she said sadly. I’d never known anyone like her before. I doubted there was anyone else like her in the universe. My mind was awash in thoughts. My spirit swirled in a sea of turbulent emotions. I was in love with Sam, but somehow, I felt closer to Darla.

We made our way back to our seats. "Joan Johnson?" a voice called out.

"Here!" I responded. My response was greeted with laughter. Apparently attendance was not being taken. It was time for me to be acknowledged and explain just why I was there. I gave a brief synopsis of my life’s story and thanked those in attendance for welcoming me into their group. The girls actually clapped when I finished. Mom beamed with pride. I must have done something right, I thought. A few more words were said and the meeting wound down to a close. As it ended, Peter told us all that he hoped he’d see us two weeks hence. Not entirely sure just what had occurred, I gave my solemn promise that I’d be there.

Mom and I made our way back to her car. "You knew about Darla, didn’t you?" I asked her.

She smiled and replied, "what makes you think that?"

"This is no time to be coy with me," I said directly.

"OK Joan, I knew. Do you feel better now?" she asked. I remembered uttering those same words to Sam a few weeks ago as he stood there pummeling my face.

"No Mom, I don’t feel better now," I told her. "How could you know that and not tell me?" I said with feelings of total betrayal. I knew that Darla herself was responsible for more than a few of my feelings. Still, Mom was the one sitting beside me at the moment.

"Mom?" I asked again.

"What do you want me to tell you?" she asked as she continued driving.

"Just the truth, Mom," I said. She started laughing.

"The truth? You can’t handle the truth." She said and began laughing insanely. I had no idea what she was going on about.

"OK Mom," I said sternly, "never mind." At that she seemed to calm down and thankfully we arrived home safely. I ran inside and was greeted by Shandy. She seemed to be the one constant, sane thing in my life. "I love you girl," I whispered as I hugged and scratched her fur. She jumped up and beckoned me to let her out. I did and waited for her to return. Moments later she was back inside licking me all about my face. Sometimes I thought, life would be so much easier if I’d been born a dog.

"Thanks Mom for taking me to the meeting," I said. "No, wait. Thanks Mom for everything," I said more appropriately. My mind was a blur with all that I’d learned this evening.

"Hang on a second Joan," Mom said. "I can tell that you intend to run up to your room now. I believe you had something you wanted to show me?" she said. What was she going on about now, I wondered? I honestly had no clue what she was talking about. Finally she reminded me about my plans to make something for Aunt Vivian. I laughed heartily as a feeling of relief washed over me

"Just a minute Mom, I’ll be right back!" I exclaimed and ran up the stairs to my room to retrieve her jewelry box. I dug it out of the closet. Damn, I’d wanted to present it to her finished and gift-wrapped. Oh well, there was no time for that now. I grabbed a bath towel as a poor alternative and wrapped the box with it. It would have to do.

I carried it down the stairs as one would a gift for a queen. Arms outstretched with the box across them. "What’s this?" Mom said as I made my way into the living room.

"This," I replied, "Is what Aunt Viv wants me to make for her." She eyed the towel carefully.

"Well, are you going to unveil your creation?"

"Yes Mom, I am. But, before I do, I wanted to tell you that it’s not finished yet. I still have to apply several coats of lacquer finish to it." I figured that I’d built the drama high enough. I placed the box on the coffee table. "Go ahead Mom, open it." Perhaps I’d led her to believe it was more impressive than it actually was? She looked from the box, to me, then back again. She gently removed the towel.

"Oh Joan!" she exclaimed. "It’s beautiful! What is it?" she asked and started laughing. Mom could be an expert tease when she wanted to be. She sat there and lifted up the piano hinged top and examined herself in the beveled edged mirror glued to the inside. She then began opening the tiny drawers. "I’m sure Vivian is going to love this," she said.

"No Mom, she won’t." Her expression asked, "why not?" "Mom, this box is for you," I said softly. Her eyes literally danced with joy.

"Oh thank you sweetheart! It’s the nicest gift I’ve ever received." I knew she had received many nice things along the way, but I was grateful for her sentiments.

"So, you made this in your shop class?"

"Yes Mom. Mr. Ferris was so impressed with my work that he offered me a summer position working with him. I love the feel of a raw piece of wood in my hands, knowing that I have the ability to fashion it into something truly unique and beautiful." I was in no way humble about my abilities. "You missed the secret drawer Mom," I told her. There was a thin drawer extending the length of the box with no handles on it. To open it you had to grab the edges by the sides and slide it forward. She gave me an inquisitive look asking why I’d devised a "secret drawer."

"Cause we girls have our secrets," I told her. She smiled knowingly at me. "Well, open it!" I commanded. She grabbed the edges and slid the thin layered drawer open. Hidden inside was my final report card.

"What’s this?" she asked, knowing full well what it was. She picked it up and asked me if she was going to be needing a drink before looking at it. We both shared a laugh. Mom eyed my grades carefully. This was indeed the best report card I’d ever received, even with the "B" in physical education. "Oh Joan, you’ve made me so proud!" she exclaimed and hugged me to her breast. I beamed at her with joy. All the forces of the universe seemed to collide for just that brief moment as we sat there hugging and exchanging tears of joy. "You’d better be getting up to bed young lady," she informed me. "You’ve got a busy day ahead of you." I released myself from her embrace and made my way upstairs.

I sat at my desk staring at the myriad of hairstyles in the book that Darla had given me. My hair was long enough to accommodate a lot of them. There were a few that I really liked, but they looked like high maintenance. It was late, closing in on 11:00 PM. Still, I knew what I had to do. I picked up the phone and called her. "Darla?" I whispered as she answered.

"Yes?" she said not recognizing my voice.

"We really are sisters, aren’t we?" My voice expressed the heart felt gratitude for all that she’d done for me. I could see her smile through the phone wires.

"Yes Joan, we are. Now go and get some sleep!" she demanded. "We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow sister," she said and kissed me gently through the phone before hanging up.

I sat there for the longest time with a huge smile on my face before getting ready for bed. Tomorrow was indeed going to be a busy day…

Notes:

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