I stood on the hill gazing out across the shallow valley before me. The chains in which I had been shackled for so long were still hanging from my wrists, although the link between them had been broken offering me enough freedom of movement to do many things.

NOTE:

I am reposting this story under a new title.
Former title (twice over) was "Wings for an Angel" and then "Beyond the Sky". This title is the one which will "stick".

Some of you may remember I began posting and then pulled the whole thing due to some "legal" problems caused when a foreign company took exception to my invented name for the production company contained within the story. While not as good a name as before, the new production company name could not be found on the Internet so come 'hell or high water' it will remain. This is fiction and the name I am using is fictitious as was the first. The difference is.... this time I looked around for a number of days to try to create a name which I couldn't find anywhere. If some company comes along and decides I'm infringing.... sorry about that. There are only so many names I could come up with (and which I had never heard of) which made sense so it's entirely possible that I've created a name which once again is in use. I did try to determine a name which was not being used. SEE DISCLAIMER INFORMATION IN MY COPYRIGHT.

All right, now that has been said.... I shall post a chapter about (note I said about, not precisely) every week. This is a work in progress even though I have most of it 'mapped' out and about a third to a half of it "completed". TIME is my critical element here. I have a large number of other stories I am working on and which pay the bills so this one isn't my first priority. Even so, I hope to be able to spend at least half a day each week or two so 'possibly' I can stay ahead of the curve. This information will be included with each posted chapter although at the end of each rather than the beginning as it is in this chapter.

Many of you will remember the beginning chapters of this story although they will have some subtle changes which should not appreciably affect your memory of the story.

Thank you for your patience.
Anesidora

= = = =
All characters and businesses in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no intentional relationship whatsoever to anyone or anything bearing the same name or names. The characters and business names contained herein are not even distantly inspired by any individuals or businesses known or unknown to the author, and all incidents described or alluded to within this work are pure invention. No affiliations, involvements or gender assignations due to the use of any images contained within this work are to be implied, intended or inferred.

Except for small excerpts of 200 words or less used in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, designed, or conceived, or in any retrieval system for any purpose, is forbidden without written and specific license of the author or his/ her heirs or Estate.

I stood on the hill gazing out across the shallow valley before me. The chains in which I had been shackled for so long were still hanging from my wrists, although the link between them had been broken offering me enough freedom of movement to do many things. Since the metal was iron, my magic, my essence was still mostly bound by that harsh metal of which those chains were forged. My powers and even much of my affinity for flight were affected. Indeed, it was only when I managed to stuff enough of my skirt between my wrists and that hated metal that I managed to feel a small portion of my power flow back into me. The effort nearly killed me when the skirts pulled out from under those bonds which were draining me so, however that momentary power allowed me to break one of my bonds and thus escape.

My former captors were undoubtedly hunting me even now. They were not above using others who also held an affinity for magic but they had shackled me since I refused to give in to them. I felt weak, unprotected, this burning metal draining my life from me even as I stood here looking out at the potential freedom before me. If I had my flight, I could have been down there in mere moments but as I couldn’t do so for more than a few seconds at a time I would need to climb.... to crawl.... to beg my way to the valley floor below where I might find help.

It was quite a fall for someone mundane who had become an Elfin princess, of sorts anyway, only to once again be mundane in her powers. Once again unable to perform those things which allowed me to fight the Shadow World. To now understand those things but be powerless to do anything about them hurt.... almost as much as that hated iron binding my wrists.

~ ~ ~ ~

At least that was the premise held within the script, which was a rewrite of the translation of a mythical story of an Elfin Princess, Eáránë Galathil. The chains in this case were actually made of a soft aluminum, colored to resemble iron and the portions around my wrists were well padded. After all they couldn’t very well afford to shut down the shooting schedule while they waited for my wrists to heal from abrasions caused by the manacles.

OH, by the way.... That photo of me with the hula hoop was taken by one of the studios photographers who just happened to see me during a relaxing moment between takes. She snapped it on a lark and the studio bigwigs liked it so much they decided to use it as a publicity photo. The one where I had been posing in the studio while sitting on a giant plastic “mushroom” went by the wayside, along with nearly a hundred others. They decided to keep someone around to just snap photos in the off chance that they would come up with another which they liked better than all the posed photos. It was an effort but I managed to con a few out of the publicity department. One for my girlfriend and one for my scrapbook and most importantly one for the portfolio at my agents office. Pretty good, huh?

Oh, the wings. Well, they aren’t mine; or rather they didn’t grow out of me. You can blame Adam for those. Adam Thornton. He invented them, and yes, I really can fly using them. They’re kind of weird, a bit scary, and for the first couple of weeks I wasn’t really convinced they would continue to work – they looked so.... I don’t know, flimsy and weak? Worse than a kite? I guessed that’s why the studio wanted a stunt person to play the starring role in the movie, they didn’t trust them all that much either. It’s also why they decided to hire me as that stunt person to play the part of the ‘starlet’ in this production. They figured that with the stunt person doing it all they would save money in the long run and I would likely be more able to protect myself if something ever went wrong, like – the wings ripped off or folded up while I was a fifty meters in the air. Uh huh.... Even hear of “fat chance”? I’m not Humpty Dumpty, but just like him I doubted all the King’s horses and all the King’s men could put me together again if that happened.

Anyway the studio could also get away with paying only one salary plus a small premium for my stunt work, the sum of both likely coming out to being about the same or even less than the cost of a well known starlet, much less a starlet plus a stunt person. If you looked at it that way then my salary basically meant their budget would seem to reflect they got their stunts thrown in for “free,” more or less.

I think Jacob mentioned, oh, yeah – uh, Jacob’s my agent. I think Jacob mentioned that they got a break on their insurance too. That probably saved them enough to pay my salary and then some. In my opinion they were paying through the nose but who am I to argue? Most of it still went to Jacob, the two unions and my medical insurance.

By now most of the guys who looked at that image of me probably thought: “Yeah! She looks like some kind of angel masquerading as a pixie.”

I hate to think what the girls might have been thinking, probably something along the line of tar and feathers should I happen to put down anywhere near where they happened to be. Small matter.... well, medium sized matter – anyway, sorry to burst your bubbles, pals but — Come to think of it; no, I’m not; sorry that is. Still, I wish you’d all just get a clue. I’m far from being an Angel. As to being a girl, well – even if it does look that way, soorrry. Get a grip guys, I'm a guy; it says so right in my contract. It’s not even in the fine print. Always have been a guy, always will be, and I’m into girls just as much as the next guy. In fact I have a girl-friend and she thinks this is all a hoot. So girls — I’m not competition. You can stop heating that black sticky stuff and ripping out the pillows. Oh, and close your mouth over there, it makes you look like goldfish.

No, this isn’t some weird kind of pick up line. How I came to be playing parts in movies where I double for or play the part of a girl is a long and mostly painful story. Yeah, and I don’t intend to show you the scars I have which prove it. I don’t present myself as a girl when I’m out and about, well - most of the time anyway, now that I happened to think about it. Nearly everything you see there is appliances and make-up. Yeah, the hair is mine since I play so many female parts I let it grow out a bit which actually makes it easier to maintain the illusion. It’s all just for the stunts, or in this case, the movie. In fact that pic is something somebody from the publicity department snapped with a long lens during one of my takes and they took away a little detail before printing it to use for publicity. As I mentioned, I managed to grab two copies of it before they all disappeared. The one I took home was actually for my girlfriend and the other quickly found its way into my portfolio.

I know — I look hot. Blame make-up and my accident. Which, by the way, is part of the reason I’ve got this lead role and not just a fill-in stunt part. Well.... actually I suppose the whole lead role is a stunt part, so there you go.
I should have known you’d want the whole explanation. What is it with everyone wanting to know my life’s most intimate details? I don’t have much time until my next scene so come on, gather around so I don’t have to yell or repeat myself. I’ve got to try to keep this short.

~~~~

Actually, how all this started is a little strange. You see, I’d been working in the movie industry since I was.... well.... ‘knee high to a grasshopper’ if you listened to Mom and Pop. My Mom and Pop were in the movie business and one of the flicks needed a baby. Since Mom and Pop just happened to have one conveniently available I wound up as the stand in – even got screen credit as a bit player. That was my first screen debut and it occurred when I was – oh, maybe four or five months of age. I guess it’s in my blood since it’s been going on that way ever since. NO. Not the baby thing. I meant that I’ve been in motion pictures for all that time. Give me a break here.

It was during my formative years (I didn't know if that was a viable situation or a series of tragic events in my case) I played at bit parts here and there so by the age of five I had my Screen Actors Guild card, and by the time I turned ten I also had my stunt performers Union card and, of course, Union dues and insurance in spades. Mom and Pop would take half of what was left, which they mostly spent on me anyway, and the other half went into my college education fund, which was a bit of a bummer since I didn’t get to buy a car or do a lot of those other things guys my age got to do with their money as they got into their teens. Yes, I did go to college and received two degrees for my efforts. One in Communication/ Performing Arts (Theater and Television) and the other in Psychology. Don’t ask, it seemed like a good idea at the time, besides it got Mom and Dad to help pay the bills since they were trying to get me to go into something other than the entertainment industry. Since then I’ve also earned my Masters in Theatrical (Performing) Arts.

Anyway, back to that image and my work of choice. I spent much of my spare time during my teen years working in movies here and there as a bit player or stunt double for some of the skinnier guys and a few of the more robust ladies as well. You might say I knew I was a guy after fifteen or so years of acting but I didn’t mind playing the occasional female part for a few seconds here and there. It was a way to make money even if I could never do a close up double for one of the Starlets. My face wasn’t the problem, with a little makeup I looked okay there but my figure was anything but that of a girl. There was no way I could look enough like a girl during any kind of shot closer than ten meters or so unless they did a tight closeup of my face and they only did that for the stars. The problem was my curves or lack thereof. I didn’t have any, at least not then. Course I never developed any hair on my chest nor face but that was true for a lot of guys. At least I was built like a guy. Skinny maybe but still like a guy.

Anyway, I got paid well for doing stunts but after my SAG and other dues, agent's fees and insurance, I came away with about fifty percent give or take a bit. Of course most of those fees were legitimate expenses and therefore supposedly tax deductible. Sure, I could take home a couple of grand or so every month and there were a few months here or there when I might pull in as much as four or five after everything but there were also months when the well was dry, or very nearly. After all, my name wasn't quite as well known as some of the guys (and gals) who were pulling down seventy to a hundred fifty a year. I know of this one stunt guy who made.... what? Oh, sorry. Okay, I’ll get back to my story.

It took a while for my name to get around the circuit, but that was after the tragic event which started all this. That ‘little’ happening occurred when I was barely over fifteen. Although none of us could have predicted it at the time, that was the turning point in my career. It happened when I was stunt doubling for a guy during a take about a gang rumble. The script called for me to take a fall off a four story building. I’d done this nearly a thousand times before so it was no big gig. Okay, okay - so maybe five or six times.

The four of us who were involved in the stunt checked everything out and made certain my landing pad was properly inflated, not too stiff, not too soft, ahh.... just right. Kind of like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. What? I’m going too far back for you? Children’s stories, remember? Anyway the version I saw was a cartoon on TV, not the children’s picture readers.

All right already, I’ll try to stay away from the jokes. We inspected the pop outs which all looked good so we declared to the director that everything was ready then moved our asses up to the roof where a couple of cameras were waiting for us. Another camera was on the building across the way with a tight lens so it could capture the fight and the fall, and two were down in the street also ready to capture my fall from a couple of differing viewpoints. You know – the bystander’s point of view. Five minutes later the cues were given, the cameras had been boarded and were grinding and we wound up in the fight scene until finally I went over the side. No biggie.

I woke up in the hospital a couple of days later with half my intestines missing along with a couple of other minor things plus stitches up my side and across my lower abdomen. The view as I looked around gave me some sort of a clue that things didn’t go as planned or scripted. A nurse let me have a really small sip of water before she left the room only to return a couple of minutes later to inject something into my IV line. That injection took reality on a little side trip leaving me behind so I dropped off to sleep again. Guess they didn’t want me to ask too many questions just yet, or maybe they just didn’t want to answer them.
They kept me pretty much out of it for another three or four days so it was about a week after the accident before I was ready to hold a coherent conversation with any visitor who might happen by; much less recognize with whom I was speaking.

“What happened?”

Jerry, who had been sitting in my room nearly exploded out of his chair. I don’t know if he planned that or not. It could have been one of his more amusing special effects, or my voice may have startled him since it sounded like the Rock Monster from Hell even to me, and I hadn’t even worked that flick. He grabbed a glass of water with a straw in it holding it over so I could sip a little before I tried again. “What went wrong?” It came out a little better the second time but was still kind of raspy and deep in the gravel pit.

“Don’t try to talk just now. I’ll get the nurse. They wanted to know the moment you woke up.”

I tried to answer him with, “Yeah. They probably want to know when I’m awake so they can give me a shot of something to put me to sleep again,” but he was already across the room and part way out the door before I had the first three words out.

It seemed like he returned almost instantly but I was still so groggy that time wasn’t making much of an impression on me. It was sort of like one of those previews of a show which had a bunch of really short clips all pasted together and flashing by so fast you couldn’t be certain what you were seeing. I hate those, by the way. I’m more of a two or three nice slow understandable scenes kind of guy. Anyway, I glanced at the clock on the wall, then did a double take. I couldn’t be certain but it seemed to me that the crazy thing was running backwards, probably the drugs which were still in my system. Now that I think about it, it’s been a few years since my accident and I’m still wondering about that stupid clock.

He finally returned and began talking a hundred kilometers a minute, “Your folks just left ten minutes ago. Your Mom’s been really worried. Half the Stunt crew have been in and out the past couple of days. That was one hell of a stunt. You pulled it off great, kid. The cameras got it on the first take. Which I guess was good since you weren’t in any shape to do a second one.”

“What happened?” I was still back to my one line repartee like it was something from a bad script before I finally decided to add yet another thread of thought. “Didn’t the pop outs work?”

“No, No. Everything worked fine. We got you off to the hospital as fast as we could and other than a few little things here and there, you’re in great shape.”

“Jerry!” by now I was tired of him avoiding the answer to my question, “What did I do wrong? Why am I here?”

“You....” he started to answer but was caught up short when a nurse and a doctor burst through the door. Well, I guess they probably just pushed it open but in my half drugged state it seemed like they just suddenly appeared in the room as the door changed from closed to fully open.

“Move aside, please. Let me check him,” the doctor pushed in past Jerry who clammed up the moment they entered the room. The nurse busied herself with all the odds and ends which were connected to or stuck in or on me while the doctor began to check to see if I still had my eyes, nose, tonsils and ears before getting down to where the problems really were.

“Is this tender? Does that hurt?” He asked while poking me with the electric cattle prod he somehow smuggled into the room when I wasn’t looking. From now on I intended to pay closer attention to what doctors were doing with their hands as they entered my room.

“Only when you poke it. Otherwise it just feels.... sort of.... painfully numb.”

He gave me one of those enigmatic “hmm's” like all doctors do and which tells a person absolutely nothing. I felt like asking him if it was supposed to tickle but figured he probably wouldn’t have appreciated it. He didn’t seem to be the kind that appreciated humor.

I once again managed to croak out, “Jerry. What went wrong?”

“Nothing. But —“

“Okay. Let’s let him sleep for a while. The two of you can talk tomorrow.”

They shooed Jerry out the door as they followed right behind him closing it after they were out of my room. Once again I was alone in the room with my questions still unanswered. I began thinking about the stunt. It was only four stories. I’ve done a couple which were a bit higher than that. I know I landed right since I felt the bag at my back just before I realized there was a pretty severe pain lower down. I remember hearing one or two of the pop-outs going which was pretty much as planned. My weight ranged around sixty five to seventy five kilos and we put in the twenty kilo pops so the impact from my fall should easily have been enough that a few should have gone and I sort of vaguely remember hearing what might have been even more. In fact they were probably overkill since the bag was inflated just about right so it was billowy. It likely wouldn’t have needed to deflate at all. The next thing I remembered was waking up here. I hit it right, nearly square on.... the pops worked and the bag wasn’t over or under inflated. It felt about right other than that pain in my lower middle and side. So what happened?

I glanced at that weird clock again but was rapidly coming to the conclusion that it was broken. Meanwhile, it was difficult getting off to sleep while my mind was running off at a rate guaranteed to keep me awake as it tried to figure what went wrong. Maybe my Appendix was about to burst and the fall triggered it. That happened once before in the annals of stuntdom. Yeah, maybe that’s it. Except.... Cripes, I was only sixteen.... Okay, okay, fifteen and a half.

The drugs they injected into my IV didn’t do much for my mind which still continued to set land speed records. It just didn’t have a sense of direction any longer which meant it was just as likely to spend all it’s effort on a game of mental tiddly winks as it was to try to figure out what went wrong. I seem to remember a few pink frogs and some blue flamingos hidden back in the recesses somewhere. The next day no one came to visit and the nurses didn’t know anything about either stunt work or the accident so they didn’t have any answers.

“Don’t worry. The surgeon did a wonderful job. You’re going to be fine and the scars will hardly be apparent at all in a few years. You rest now, dear.”

Uh, huh. That’s all I’ve been doing this past week. When do I get to start walking around and when do I get out of here? I’ve got work and school to do. SCHOOL! Oh Crap.

“What day is this?” I managed to mumble out after only three or four tries.

“Day? Thursday.”

“No. I mean what’s the date? Did I miss my finals?”

I’d been taking some extra classes and I needed those grades. I was trying to get into the University’s advanced program since I was finishing up most of the generic requirements several years ahead of my peers. These extra classes were prep which was supposed to help me if I did well at them. If I made it into the advanced program despite also working it meant I could be awarded my diploma a year early. I simply couldn’t miss those finals.

“Just relax, dear. I’m certain your finals won’t disappear. Your school will take into account your being in the hospital and allow you to take them after you’ve been up and about for a while.”

“I’ve got to take my entrance exams for the advanced subjects as well.” I actually got out a coherent sentence. At least I thought it was coherent at the time. Maybe not, since it took her ten or fifteen seconds before she answered.

“Oh. Well, they’re not quite so forgiving but maybe if you contact your university now they will understand and allow you to take them later.”

“Terrific.” I said, not really meaning it. Now I had two more worries. What went wrong? Would I make it into the advanced program? Would the college of my choice let me start late? Nah, no worries.

Somewhere along the way I fell asleep. How do I know? They woke me up at midnight to take my temperature, pulse and blood pressure. That’s how.

“Do you need something to help you sleep?”

“I didn’t,” I guess she took that to mean ‘no’ since she left without giving me anything. Sometime between then and the next visit I managed to get off to sleep again. How do I know? Cripes, I’m not going to go into all that again.

Anyway, time for breakfast managed to roll around and I actually got to have a little soft food as opposed to jello, or maybe some jello, or perhaps.... you guessed it, j e l l o.

The soft food was a nice change but still nothing I could really sink my teeth into. I was beginning to wonder if Jerry could smuggle in a nice steak. Maybe a potato or two, following everything with a piece of chocolate layer cake. Yeah. I could really sink my teeth into something like that. It might be novel to actually be able to chew my food rather than straining it through my teeth a couple of times to liquify it before swallowing.

No one showed up the next day but then the show must go on so they were probably shooting and the stunt guys and gal were probably too busy to come by. The Director was a great gal but she had a schedule to keep and the Producers would make certain she stuck to it. Think of it a bit like this: the Director is the Field General who is in charge of the action but the Producers are the Generals who are back at the Home Office and they tell him if he is on track and in budget or not.

You know, “Sorry, we need to pull those gun ships for a few weeks since you don’t have the budget to handle them or their fuel and ordinance. As soon as you come back in budget we’ll make certain you get some of them back.”

Sort of like issuing a thousand rifles and only one bullet, or maybe a thousand bullets and only one rifle. Either way it would be difficult to come up with a good defense.

Come to think of it, the American Congress seems to be a bit like that sometimes doesn’t it?

Anyway, Mom visited me the next day but she had no answers, so I was still waiting. “They were really happy with your performance, sweetheart. They said you did really well.”

“Yeah. Right up to the time I hit the balloon and passed out. Do you know what they had to do to me? I haven’t been able to get anyone to tell me anything.”

“All I know is they had to remove about half of your intestines, your gall bladder, and appendix. They said they would keep an eye on your stomach and the one kidney which was scraped due to the fall. You will need to stay on a pretty light diet for several months before slowly moving back into more solid foods. The doctors seem to feel you are doing quite well all things considered and in a year or two everything should be pretty much normal for you again. They did say you are going to hurt for a while, and once they release you from the hospital they will need to see you once a week for a couple of months or so. But if you continue to improve as rapidly as you are right now you could get back to some light work in a few months.”

“Mom. There’s nothing light about stunt work. What about school? What about my finals and the entrance exams for Uni?”

“Your Father spoke with them and the schools will allow you your tests whenever you are up to taking them. The Uni said you could take the tests for advanced placement and make your entry any time every three months. They’re using the quarter system so it really isn’t a problem. Whenever you’re up to starting.”

Okay, I guess two out of three isn’t bad. I did, at least, obtain some of the information about the third question.

The next day Jerry showed up again and this time I cornered him - well, I actually mean that figuratively. I was still in the bed but I was beginning to get some of the answers. Apparently the roof we were going to be on had some junk sitting on it and a couple of the rousts were sent up to clean it off before the shooting started. While we were putting the finishing touches on my target bag they were moving the junk. One of the guys was an apprentice about my age and when he was told to “get rid of it” concerning a small six to eight kilo chunk of concrete with a couple of short pieces of re-bar sticking out of it; he finally just pitched it over the side of the roof. One guess where it ended up. Not too bright, that apprentice. To make a long story short, when I pitched over the roof I landed on it re-bar first. Thanks heaps.

Well, now that was all water under the bridge. It’s a few years later and my scars barely show. If I wore a bikini; and I’m not saying I would do such a thing but if I did, the scars would be visible but only barely. We usually made certain that part of me didn’t show if I had to wear barely something during my double of some female.

I spent the first nine months back from the hospital at school. That allowed me to accomplish something while I regained my strength. I didn’t take losing a bunch of my innards into account though. I began to gain a much more feminine shape as a result and with my medium length hair and soft features I had more than one guy hit on me during that nine months. It probably didn’t help that I had to wear girls levis in order to get pants that fit.

My girlfriend complicated the situation when she bought me an outfit which virtually guaranteed me to look like a girl. After she put a couple of breast forms in the bra I was wearing, that turned out to be bit of a revelation, let me tell you. I didn’t mind wearing it at home for her. That didn’t seem too much different to me than doing it on location since the crew knew who I really was and so did she but....

“You want me to do what?”

“Go out shopping with me.”

“Dressed like this? You’re kidding aren’t you? I mean, I’ve never done this in public.”

“What? Afraid some good looking guy will hit on you?”

“What? I don’t.... No, I don’t think so. Why do you want me to do this, anyway?”

“No reason in particular. I just wanted to go shopping with my occasional girlfriend. Besides, since your accident you have the shape for it.”

“Don’t remind me. You sure you don’t like me like this more than as myself?”

“No. I like you as you, just fine. It’s just.... well, you portray women in stunts and I’d just like to have a day where I could see you that way for a bit. I’d like to see the female you, in person, once in a while rather than two years after the fact in a movie.”

“Uh, huh. Okay. I guess we can do this once in a while.”

“Thanks, Dennis. Can I call you Denise when you’re like this?”

“Only while we’re out in public. And I still don’t like this idea.”

~ ~ ~ ~

What? What was my most interesting double for a female?

I’d have to think about that. I don’t know.... the scariest was probably the time I doubled going to the academy awards. I was hoping she didn’t take an award since it would have been a bit of a problem for me to get up in front of everyone to accept it. As it was that whole thing was a trip and a half. I knew if I opened my mouth things would go to hell in a handbasket double quick. I just stayed quiet, smiled a lot and waved at everyone a bit. And no, I don’t know why she couldn’t have just gone herself. They don’t tell me why they need me to play a part they just put the appliances on me, let me do the role and pay me well. As I recall, they gave me almost no notice for that one.

Let’s get back to the images.... With nearly half my intestines, gall bladder and appendix gone, I thinned down a bit overall as you can probably imagine. My body also wound up with a bit of reapportionment leaving it with some of those curves which follow the relative proportions of a female. In simple language, my body finally pulled in above my hips seemingly developing those curves which lend themselves to a person being identified more as a female than as a male. After I recovered I began to pick up more stunt roles doubling for women since there was less inside me to cause my body to remain vertical in appearance. Now I had the curves to handle more than just a long shot. I didn’t learn until a few months after I was released from the hospital that a part of my stomach went by the wayside as well during a second surgery. I never quite went back to eating just anything I wanted, nor did I have the capacity to hold as much food so my weight began to drop a little, not a lot, maybe five or ten kilos but I also added another eight to ten centimeters of height during the same time. As I mentioned, this had the effect of eventually throwing me into a lot more stunts where I played female parts. It didn’t really matter to me, the money was pretty good so....

It didn’t seem strange until they asked me to play the part of an amazon for an entire picture. True, it was a TV-movie but I was running around in a lot less than I usually did whenever I stunted for a woman. It didn’t help me a bit to discover that I really did look like a woman unless I started to walk or talk or anything like that, even then it was still a toss-up. Just standing or sitting I looked pretty much like a female once the appliances and wig had been attached.

Anyway, I did two TV-movies dressed like that. Or maybe, undressed like that. It was okay, I thought it was a bit weird but they paid well and my girlfriend, Candy, didn’t mind so long as I didn’t want to become a girl on a permanent basis – which I didn’t and don’t. Don’t even think about it. She and I like the twosome we have become.

The stunt double parts began to come along a little more often until I began to occasionally double for some of the more well known actresses. With the advances in appliances and makeup, as well as my new shape, they could make me look pretty close to a lot of them now so that was the reason my gigs began to come along a little more frequently. It was all good money and I finally made it over the hundred grand a year hump - okay, so not every year, but once in a while.

A couple of times I even got my girlfriend onto the set so she could see me working, that was when she didn’t need to be off working herself, you know how that goes. One time we went to the cafeteria for lunch (in that case it was a triple wide expandable set of trailers with a large kitchen and dining area). While we were there she treated me like I was a girl-friend. That was a little weird but she didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“Remind me to teach you to act more feminine. It’s so weird to see this girl sitting there who’s acting like a guy.”

“Why bother? I’m not going to become a girl and I’m not going to be doing more than stunting so there’s no need. It’s not like I’m going to be an actress or something.”

“Well, why don’t you do it just to improve your craft? It creeps me out to see a girl who’s mannerisms are like a guy’s. You don’t have to be a girl to be able to imitate one successfully. I could teach you a couple dozen little things which would go a long way toward the illusion. You might even get some better parts or more of them if you could more successfully impersonate a woman.”

I gave that some thought and decided she was right. I began to wonder, if I could more successfully pass, would it pay any better? Those two TV-movies were fun and paid pretty well, in fact that was where I made my first break over a hundred thou. The downside was I had a bunch of stuff stuck to me for nearly a week at a time. I didn’t care much for being nearly undressed either, but the work wasn’t difficult and the stunts were pretty easy compared to some of the stuff I’ve done. That reminds me.... How do you ladies stay warm when ninety percent of your body is exposed to the wind? During some of the scenes I was so cold I was afraid the cameras would see my goosebumps.

Well, getting back to Candy’s idea, “Well.... yeah. Maybe. I’ll give it a shot and see if it seems too weird. Once I have some of it down then I’ll check with Jacob, to see if he thinks it will make me more marketable.”

If I made more money, he would make more money. Well.... so would the Unions actually, since I paid them on a per stunt basis. Somehow I don’t believe they would give me an unbiased answer, though. Jacob, I knew I could trust. He would nix something if he didn’t like it rather than go ahead just to make more money.

“ Okay, Candy. Let’s do it. I’ll run it by Jacob later.”

“Good. First lesson begins right now. Come on.”

She got up, leading me to the door after we dropped our trash and trays. Outside we headed for the temporary ladies room where I balked a moment just before she dragged me inside.

“First lesson. Ladies room and Lipstick.”

That wasn’t too bad except for me blushing a couple dozen times and pointedly making certain I couldn’t see any of the women in the mirror before, during, or after they had been in the trailer. I finally learned how to put on my lipstick, at least well enough that Candice allowed it to pass before we went back out.

“See. That wasn’t too difficult was it?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

“I meant the lipstick, silly.”

Well, no. It actually wasn’t difficult. I’m glad she didn’t have me learning how to poke my eye out with that eyelash stuff. Makeup did a pretty good job of nearly doing that. Course they blamed it all on me since they said I wouldn’t hold still. Well.... You try holding still when someone is coming at your eye with a stick full of dark brown stuff. This was the first time I’d ever had them put that stuff on my eyelashes.

They gave me a couple of coats of it too, “There, that looks pretty good. No one would ever know it’s mascara. You have nice long lashes.”

“Thanks, I think.” Are guys supposed to have long lashes? Next question, does this stuff come off before I go home or am I going to have girl’s eyes until it wears off? I was used to appliances and all that other stuff being stuck to my face.... and other places. But that stuff on my eyelashes was a new one. Once one of my gigs required me to have eyebrows added which looked like a pair of fuzzy caterpillars. I’ve even had my eyebrows trimmed to a delicate arch but that only happened a couple of rather painful times. This painting of stuff onto my eyelashes was all new and more than a little strange to handle.

Something else I’d never noticed before, my eyelashes would stick together more easily. They didn’t get in the way, I could still see just fine but with the make up and that.... mascara, plus my eyebrow trim, I received a bit of a start the first time I saw myself in a mirror afterward. I didn’t realize it was a mirror for a second or two then had to do a double take. Ten or fifteen seconds later I found myself going back again to look once more. That was a wake up call if ever there was one.

Okay, okay.... back to the picture. That’s what happened as a result of those “easy” lessons at being a female my girlfriend put me through – (we hadn’t gotten to the ‘more difficult’ ones yet). It only took her nine long and difficult weeks of trying to teach me how to properly walk, sit, talk (as well as sound), wave my hands around properly while I talked, plus move my body properly when I walked, talked or displayed emotions. She must have spent three or four days on everything makeup for normal daily wear (as opposed to the stuff they did to prepare me to go before the cameras). She spent time showing me how to care for my face, hands, body, hair, etc. and just about every other insane little thing you could think of. I don’t see how women do it day after day. Hell, they don’t just do it, they make it look easy. Let me tell you, it’s anything but. I’ll never again give Candy lip for taking an hour to get ready again. It all has purpose, and I like every bit of it – On her, I mean, on her. Give me a break here.

After the first six weeks of her tutoring, I decided to let Jacob – my agent, remember? – see the results up to that point. I made an appointment and showed up en-drag. He just sat there with this enigmatic look on his face for a couple of minutes. I could see the gears turning but there was no obvious reaction. Finally he reached for the phone and made a couple of calls. I was worried he might have been planning on asking for the white coats to come collect me but instead he just asked for some people at one of the studios to get back to him, then he turned back to me.

“You up to doing a part dressed as a woman in another TV-movie?”

“An Amazon, like the last time?” I remembered with less than fond recollection that pair of movies.

“Not exactly. I think you’d have more clothes on but there would be a lot more stunt work. The clothes would help give you a feminine appearance but you’d be in a harness of sorts since the woman is supposed to have wings for much of the show. I don’t know exactly how that works but the illusion is that they grow out of your shoulder blades. You would need to get accustomed to them since they’ll weigh ‘quite a bit’,” he fingered the quote marks in the air, “they haven’t said exactly how heavy they are but they’re supposed to be able to move. I don’t understand the logistics of it all. We can learn more before we sign if they happen to be interested. It’s a pilot so there might be a series.”

“I suppose. They don’t expect me to fly do they? That usually carries an extra fee as well as triggers my insurance premiums into another category while I’m flying. The Union will be a stickler for getting what they perceive as their share from my work. Flying brings a premium for them too.”

I wasn’t looking forward to those hassles. The last time I was hanging below a helicopter for twenty minutes, I actually lost money. Not much but lost never-the-less. You can imagine my interest in doing that again.

“Just the normal stuff, I think. You know, a line which they remove in post production processing. Probably hanging from either a helicopter or a mono in a studio.”

“We would need to emphasize that it’s stunt rates whenever I’m flying or about to do so. I think I’d like to know a lot more about all this before I made a decision. How does it happen she has wings?” I asked as an afterthought.

“I’ll try to get a copy of the script, I never called for one since I didn’t have anyone who could pull it off, but with a little more practice at acting like a woman I think you could probably handle the part. There wouldn’t be too many stunt who looked good enough to play the part and have the stamina to do the stunts too. They wanted someone who looked pretty good, pretty much had your build, and since your accident your body seems to fill the bill pretty well.”

“Gee thanks. That was a backhanded compliment if ever there was one.”

“Give me a break. I know you’re a guy. The point is since your accident you have a good shape which far more easily drops into the female roles than any other stuntman I’ve got. And the dozen or so stunt women on my roster don’t happen to look as good as you would if makeup was to stick some appliances on your chest. I think you have a good chance of pulling it off. I intend to be up front with the studio and tell them you’re a guy, but I’ll going to show them pics of a number of the female parts you’ve doubled as well as some shots from those TV-movies you did. If they haven’t found anyone else then you’d likely be a shoo in.
In fact – Now that I think about it, I want you to get your ass over to see Tommy. I want him to do a five minute roll of you walking and talking while dressed just like this – did your girlfriend make you up?” He continued talking without giving me a chance to reply, but.... that’s Jacob. Once he starts he talks a kilometer a second.

“Grab a copy of the first scene of the Thunderbolt script from Alice as you go out and read the woman’s part at Tom while he records you. When you get over there tell him I want it yesterday. I need at least four copies on short disks. That way I can Fed-Ex them out today if they want to see you. Go on, move.”

I moved. I was out his door and over to Alice’s desk before his office door had closed.

“Wiggle more.” he yelled at me just before his door cut off the rest of his comment which he completed through the intercom on Alice’s desk; “and use your hands more when you talk.”

“Wiggle more?”

“He means put more action into your derriere, honey.”

“Alice. I’m Dennis, remember? A guy? I don’t have a derriere.”

“So??? You're playing at being an actress.... wiggle more.”

She was pretty much as understanding and enigmatic as the agent she worked for. She’s been here too long. I wonder if they were related? I gave up and accepted the copy of the first scene of Thunderbolt then headed on over to the building next door to see Tommy.

“Wiggle more.” followed me out the door just before it closed.

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