Bob and Megan, a married couple in their final years retired for the night. Just before drifting off to sleep Bob made an off hand comment to which Megan agreed with a slight twist. They did not know something was listening and granted their wish. How will this challenge work out when they hardly know the rules of the game?

The premise is what if. What if as a senior citizen you were sent back in time into the body of a teenager of the different sex. You were given a task to perform but none of the host's memories. You retained your own knowledge and memories. Could you navigate that world? What would the experience do to you?

Sept 20, 2011
Newly edited through the unforgiving seventh grade English teacher. There are a few minor changes but nothing to alter the story. You will notice a change from first person narrative to third person in some scenes. This is intentional. The primary focus is from Bob/Sarah's point of view. I shifted to third person when Bob/Sarah was not involved in the scene and for areas where scene setting is involved. With that in mind it should lessen any confusion. I trust this helps convince you there is a method for the writers madness and it is not a lack of skill. This decision may be a failure but I did it on purpose.

Rights reserved by the author with permission to host granted exclusively to Big Closet.

In part two Bob cautiously explores his new persona with little direction as he attempts to rebuild Sarah’s life. He learns trust once broken is difficult to reclaim. He finds an ally in Sarah’s grandmother and may have discovered who his wife, Megan became.

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I again sat on the bed with PDA fired up after an eternal hour of eating hot dogs I did not want while listening to both parents wax on and on about safety, bad behavior and another week of grounding. My adult mindset agreed with everything they said while my Sarah presentation showed appropriate teen angst. I was actually feeling pretty good with my performance as deep down I knew the adults in the room would never accept total surrender. My task was clear straighten this kid out while displaying an appropriate amount of resistance. It seemed my association with the two criminals was dissolved. With my new look and new school perhaps the worst is over. I was ready to become Bob again and give Sarah her life back. My conversation with the Voice suggested other wise.

According to my handler I did in fact avert the death of the girl while avoiding a family disaster but everything gained would be lost by the return of the real Sarah. There was work to do such as getting through my senior year. I was also informed Megs was still working toward completing her tasks. The Voice would not hear of allowing us to work together. He will not allow us to know the others' persona.

There is this nagging feeling that whoever is pulling the strings is not exactly forthright. There is a plan I may not like in motion. It appears I am stuck for another year or at least the greater part of it. I had a bit less than a week before having to enter the terrifying halls of Yuppie Tech. It would be advantageous to be able to wander about town to understand the lay of the land but the hot dog stunt bound me to the house. It did provide valuable information that I needed to have. I went to sleep and did not have any dreams in spite of the adventurous and quite unexpected day I had.

It is bad enough my center of gravity is totally skewed. I get hit with another curve ball at breakfast. Mom announced I was going to spend tomorrow with grandmother. It seems my parents need a brake. I smiled inwardly. ‘I wonder why they need a day of respite?’ This means more research once I get back to my room. I spent considerable time reviewing Sarah’s scrap books looking at pictures of friends. I discovered it was a short list, though I did learn that Sarah and her grandmother were pretty tight.

I searched through the box of goodies I picked up at Radio Shack yesterday. I decided since it is 1979 I could at least enjoy reliving the Pirates drive to the pennant and world series win. Out came the transistors, capacitors and the like to construct an antenna so I could get the games on the radio. The damn PDA, magic as it was needed help as I simply could not pull the station up on the internet. I thought about that for a bit and considered if my abilities could actually pull that off or if I am a prisoner of A.M. radio reception. I had no idea if I could pull in a signal from that distance but I was an engineer. So up went the antenna mounted outside the bedroom window, just in case. It would provide cover if I were able to pull the magic PDA trick off.

Dad was working in the garage on a circuit board he appeared quite perplexed as I walked in. Looking over his shoulder I asked, “what’s up?” He answered by explaining he was trying to build an enhanced receptor for phone connections. He was trying to boost signal strength but it was not responding as he expected. I grinned pointing to his board layout. “You need to beef up the transistors by ten percent and you need another capacitor over there.” I pointed to the spot where I thought it was needed.

“You are always teasing me aren’t you Princess?”

I offered a pouting smile. “Yeah what do I know?”

Then I walked into the back yard. I turned on the PDA while sitting at the circular aluminum table under the oversized umbrella. The PDA appeared in size and shape as a small radio that everybody seemed to have especially when head phones were attached. I could talk to the Voice without typing providing plenty of cover. If anyone saw me, they would think I was zoned out listening to my tunes.

The Voice told me when I wanted to go up that mountain to ask dad. He would love to take me as that is his passion. I filed that as I starred at the Giant with a restless gaze. Unexpectedly, I heard dad approach and quickly put away the PDA. “How did you know that?” he asked.

“Know what?” I feigned

Dad smiled, “the circuit board.”

“Oh that,” I shrugged, “it is the same principal as used in the antenna I built.”

“Antenna?” he asked.

Nodding I answered, “remember the trip to Radio Shack? I wanted to build an antenna to get the ball games and picked up an instruction book. It looked like the circuit you were building was similar to the booster I used for the antenna.”

He looked doubtful shaking his head. “You were right are there anymore surprises?”
I smiled “will you take me up that mountain?” I pointed to the Giant.
Dad exhaled slowly appearing surprised but pleased, “next Saturday.” He starred at me for a long moment asking “Sarah are you in there?” Without waiting for an answer he went into the house. I begin to think perhaps I will get through this.

The next day I find myself standing in a garden while my grandmother draws a trowel between flowers planted in a row behind the house. Without looking up she says in a soft voice, “it’s about time.”

“About time for what?” I ask cautiously. She continues to move clumps of black dirt from one place to another without speaking. I repeat, “about time for what.” Again no immediate answer came. Eventually, she stands, turns slowly to face me. I can see concern in her still youthful wrinkle free face. She looks nearly as young as my mother.

“It’s about time you figured out who you are. I sense some progress was made in the past few days. Though, it came sooner than I expected.”

I stare at her blankly unable to think of what to say.

“What,” she begins, “You think you can cast simple spells without causing a ripple? You think I would not know? I thought you had the gift and was concerned how you would use it.” She finishes dusting herself off smoothing the wrinkles from her blouse continuing to measure my reaction with her gaze.

I stared at her for a moment before replying in a soft voice, “why would I even think you would be aware? I did what I had to do there was no mischievous or malicious intent.”

She stepped forward without releasing her gaze, “daughter you and I have a connection you must have sensed it. How else would you have known to do what you did?”

I sat down upon the garden’s low stone wall my expression emitting confusion betraying my thoughts of, ‘what in hell is going on here?’

Bemused grandmother sat next to me taking my hand, “you never suspected?”

“Why should I?” I answered quickly. “What am I or rather should I ask who are we?” I emphasized the word we.

Grams smiled softening her gaze, “in due time child. I can see you are just beginning to waken from your innocence. I sense there is something different about you. What it is, I, don’t know. There is something,” her voice tailed off as she stood. “We will talk more about it later.” She hugged me then stood back. “I admired how you handled the situation and I admit I was deeply concerned you would fail.”

As we walked toward the house my thoughts were confused. If she were so astute why in the deuce didn’t she stop it and why did the Voice need me in the first place? Am I being set up? “Grams” I asked. If you knew what I was up to why didn’t you stop me?”

She quickly turned clasped my hand and gazed deeply into my eyes. “I could not the rules are clear I must allow you to make your own mistakes. I knew the consequences if you made the choice I expected. Your sudden change shocked but pleased me. I, don’t pretend to know what changed.” She deepened her gaze adding. “You are different.”

Over a cup of tea I asked her, “so you were prepared to let me take the money and give it to those guys?”

She leaned forward shaking her head. “No, I ordered the brokers to disallow you the ability to withdraw more than fifty dollars a week.”

I gulped, “had I attempted to do that then what?”

She smiled. “Who knows what you would have done out of frustration. But you made the right decision.”

I took gram’s hand whispering “I love you.”

As I rode home with dad we did not talk much as I quietly watched the mountains we sped by. Grams told me. I was allowed to invest the money with a warning that any attempt to use my powers to influence those investments would cause ripples bringing down the wrath of those who could not be named. I giggled recalling my response to grams, “don’t mess with the Muggle’s financial markets.”

Her reaction was humorous. “The who?”

I simply said, “never mind,” thinking she is not ready for Harry and Hermione.

After a quiet dinner save references to the other night’s outing and how I had to learn responsibility and had to suffer the consequences of my actions I sat in my room. The hot dog trip was exactly what I needed to establish some credibility. It would not be believable if Sarah just went along. Resistance may have been futile but an appropriate display of resistance is what they expect. This girl is certainly screwed up if she could not understand her parents were killing themselves to give her what she needed.

The wealth of information in her diary was essential. It gave me idea who her friends were. More accurately said It reported who she despised. Just how was I going to fake being her? I learned she had no friends as her dead girl walking through the halls of public school shut out everyone. The goth persona was her wall to ward off entry. I was certainly not looking forward to presenting myself in the preppy girl’s school uniform. A fresh start with new people is just what we need. I berated the Voice bitching at him for all the information he withheld getting the lame answer that it is part of the challenge. He informed me that I should be grateful I was allowed the rote abilities that came with this body. I had to give him that. I could not have done makeup and deal with sanitary issues on my own without serious mistakes.

Gazing in the mirror the total babe I saw looking back amazed me. She is one serious heart breaker though I had no intent of exploring that area. Downplay was my plan. No makeup, except for a bit around the eyes. No lip gloss, no nail polish, though those nails were nice. Definitely no skirts just jeans, except for that freaking uniform. I did not look forward to that. Bored I went downstairs and saw dad sitting on the sofa watching the Yankee game. I tossed my ball cap at him, “here you keep it.”

He caught it in one hand while looking at me, “you don’t want it?”

I grit my teeth, “the Yankees suck. Did my new hat arrive yet?”

He smiled again “this will give us something fun to argue about for a change.”

I nodded looked at my watch it was seven thirty. “Got a half hour,” I said as I sat down.

Dad asked, “half hour for what?”

My antenna can’t pull in the Pirate game before dark.

He laughed, “that was an amazing job you did with that antenna.”
We watched the game for a little bit before I stood “Gotta go listen to my guys pound the Braves.”

Dad fired back, “have fun though it is a loosing cause.”

I could not resist, “at least my guys will be in the series.” then scampered upstairs.

I could hear mom comment to dad “what was that all about?”

He answered. “I, don’t know but I like it.”

It was a busy week as I buried myself in the girl’s writings learning all I could about her. It had become clear to me her isolation was pretty complete as not a single phone call came in from any of her old friends. Then again Sarah had no school friends and I wiped the memory of her from the bad associates. It presented a sense of security while at the same time an odd feeling of trepidation.

The week ended with the holiday and the trip up the mountain with dad. What surprised dad was my insistence to follow the ridge line a mile plus to bag another open peak. I drank in the glorious view that had not changed in the slightest from when my other self climbed it years ago. I enjoyed the energy this body provided as I had not felt this strong in a long time. I discovered, first hand that females are not as physically strong as men. The trade off came in form of my seventeen year old female form being stronger than a seventy year old man.

I questioned why I accepted the change so easily. My conclusion was going from seventy to seventeen had to have a price. This one cost me my gender but you play the hand you are given. Once I accomplish my task I will be my new self. So I promised me.

“What a great view,” I exclaimed.

Dad responded “I never bothered to come over here before. This is more scenic than the first peak. How did you know?”

I blinked, “magazines?”

It took less time to return to the car though that five hundred foot climb back up to the opposing ridge from the col between the mountains was a strenuous test. After a quiet dinner with my parents, appearing quite content I got up and washed the dishes. Mom looked at me with an amazed expression but said nothing. I responded to her gaze with, “what?”

She shook her head, “nothing.”

It is an automatic dishwasher no big deal I thought. I then bounded up to my room after informing them “T.V. sucks.” I wanted to use my PDA to consider this weeks actions.

The Voice arrived at once sounding a bit put off challenging me over placing all of Sarah’s money into five stocks. “So you decided to take advantage by growing the girl’s finances isn’t that cheating?” His scolding tone raised my ire.

I responded pointing out a few irritants on my own. "You allowed me none of the girl’s memories while asking me to clean up her act. Yet I am in the dark regarding a few minute details. Minor tidbits such as who in hell this girl is and what makes her tick. That handicap does not bother you.” Without giving him a chance I went on, “I am only using my knowledge and not manipulating a damn thing. You tell me by keeping me in the dark it adds to the challenge. So I am using what I know.”

He was silent so I continued. “When the kid comes back she will be better off. It is not my responsibility for any decisions she makes later. You can’t argue I am not taking good care of her. I am not making a dime off it.”

I sat back and finally the Voice acquiesced, “ok you are right no points lost.”

I had evenly placed the money into five stocks. One was a high rocket that peaked at tripling its price then dropped like a rock flaming out. I instructed the broker to sell at the triple price and spread the results over the other four. He questioned my choices but I was firm the other four are long term holds. The kid was going to have a pile when I was done. Why do it, when I gain nothing? Why not do it, I challenge myself. I’m bored sitting around here waiting to step into the fire.

Two days after the holiday I find myself standing at the entry way of Preppy tech dressed in this uniform that I never expected to be wearing. My skirt was an inch above the knee giving me the impression it was at my neck. The blue blazer nearly concealed the white blouse and those budding breast. The ones I have been afraid to touch or explore. The same ones that unbalanced my center of gravity and created a large concern. The angst is because I had grown so accustomed to them. I barely notice them anymore they feel natural. Now that is a concern. In truth the idea scares the hell out of me. The good part is I do not have to wear a neck tie like the guys do. It is that never ending feeling of exposure from below the hem line that really concerns me. How in the hell do you walk with your knees locked together?

I spun the dial to open my locker to grab books for the first two classes fully aware of the stares aimed in my direction. Most gazes come from guys getting a look at the new girl. A few evaluating glances come from girls measuring the new competition. Navigating this pool of sharks is going to be an adventure. As I walk down the hall toward my first class which is history I feel strange. It is like every eye measures every movement, every trace of my being, like I was quarry. I opened the ornate oak door to step into the classroom and am taken back by what I see. It did not look like a classroom it looked more like a large office with stuffed chairs and low tables. Room for perhaps ten people with a larger desk front and center. Yeah right I thought, there are only fifty seniors in the entire school resulting in small classes with no place to hide. At least the seating is comfortable.

Forty minutes passed easily as the teacher Ms Riley did not lecture the entire time. She stated her topic and forced students to question and discuss details. She challenged everyone to contribute and let no one off the hook. The problem is no one seemed ill prepared. I thought no faking it here. The topic is the American Revolution. She asked what was unique about it getting no answer from the ten skulls of mush in the room. As I waited for her enlightenment she turns to me. “Miss Ryan welcome to our school. I am sure you will enjoy it here.” I nodded 'thank you' still not wanting to step into it. She went on, “could you tell us what was unique about the revolution?” She must have known Sarah’s horrible school record and wanted to establish her superior standing. Did she really want to put the new girl in her place? I glanced back at her repeating the question. “What was unique about the revolution?”

I began softly as I leaned forward in my chair knees close together. “It was not a revolution at all.” Ms Riley displayed a bemused expression while the classroom produced an array of chuckles. The teacher said, “go on.” I continued “A revolution is an action to over throw the government and establish a new one.” She agreed. “Then consider what was there at the time. The colonies had self governed for nearly two hundred years with little or no control established by the crown. The colonies had established their own houses of government with their own elected leaders. They in fact were fighting to preserve the established government and protect the status quo. There was no intent to separate from England. If a revolution is to over throw the government how can you call this a revolution when your aim is to defend the established government?”

The silence was deafening while Ms. Riley beamed. “Miss Ryan”, she began. “You have defined the situation precisely no student has ever answered this question with such insight in my class before. I expect you will be a welcome addition, well done. You are correct.” I nodded satisfied and sat back. My eyes darted around the room everyone looked at me somewhat impressed. I wondered ‘what have I done?’

Each class room appeared as the first. I did not create the same effect in each. I, at least emerged unscathed. Finally, it was lunch time and another gauntlet to run.

A wide rectangle with tables and chairs you expect to see in a lunch room appeared before me. The far wall featured a row of windows providing ample light. After securing a plate of food that barely resembled anything identifiable, I looked for a seat. A tall guy walked toward me. He was on the cute side appearing overly confident. I thought cute what is wrong with me? I decided the Sarah side of me is supposed to notice cute guys. I shuddered at that thought.

“Hi” he said, “I’m Paul.

I nodded adding, “Sarah,” and paused. I did not shut him down completely when he asked me to join his friends in the corner, “perhaps another time.”

I continued walking forward when a girl from the history class waved her arms, “Ryan” motioning me to her. I stepped to her table, “join me?” She asked. I sat down looking at the attractive girl with dark eyes and black shoulder length hair. “You are Claire Wilson aren’t you?” She beamed, “you remembered from class.”

I placed my tray on the table and sat across from her smoothing my skirt. I learned the motion by watching Megan over the years. My small purse remained hanging by a shoulder strap under my blazer. I nudged it out of the way toward my left side as I ate slowly. Claire is rather subdued speaking softly and she is very interested in where I came up with that idea about the revolution. I just shrugged it off saying I had read that somewhere and the idea intrigued me. As I ate I glanced toward a group of girls sitting ten feet away or so. They were giving me the once over clearly trying to measure me.

Between bites I said to Claire, “is that the hot girls club?”

She smiled nodding with a whisper, “the cool heartbreaking cheer leaders.”

I smiled and before I could respond Claire added, “here he comes.”

I look up in time to notice Paul walk over his eyes darting between Claire and I as he sits between us. “Hi doll,” he says to Claire as he smiles to her, “I already met your friend.”

Claire pokes him mockingly, as she offers to me, “he’s my bf but hard to control. Paul Miller, who is to leave Sarah alone, understand?” She finishes in a stern voice.

Paul nods while looking at me. “I thought you would be over there,” directing his gaze toward the popular girls.

I shook my head “why?”

Paul begins with a sly smile, “with your looks you fit right in.” Claire elbows him.

Paul feigns injury as he, quips “I heard about the history class. You are too smart for them.”

If there was ever a trap this was it, I mused to myself. I knew the girls could hear him. Claire looked taken back. This is the time to try my witching ability and apply a bit of diplomacy or spread the b.s. I glanced at Paul then to the cheerleaders. I used my powers to transmit my speech to appear as a whisper. The point was to let the girls think they were overhearing.

“Paul are you suggesting those girls are all looks and no brains? I hate to break it to you but cheerleading is hard work you have to display athletic ability. A girl must constantly work to keep her appearance perfect. She must have excellent grades to stay on the team. Athletic, intelligent and good looks that is not easy.”

Claire’s eyes widen and Paul sits as if he were gob smacked. I could see the girls were taken back having heard that. Perhaps it will cut me some slack and avoid what I expected to be a turf war. I just wanted to be left alone.

The bell rang for class and I quickly headed to the door when a cheerleader caught up with me. “Hi, I’m Trish, we heard what you said, thanks”

I faked surprise saying “I thought I was whispering.”

Trish smiled “voices carry especially when we are eavesdropping. Paul is right you should consider trying out for the team”

I giggled adding a shrug, “I, don’t know about that you guys are likely way better than me. Thank You for the offer. I’ll see ya later.” Then ran to class.

I cautiously navigated through the balance of the day. Dressed as I am in a girl's school uniform is shocking enough to my psyche. Several boys sized me up with that come hither gaze I found unsettling. That will take some getting used to. At one point I scared myself when I realized I looked at them. I placated my alarm by denying an interest in boys. In my effort to feed my denial. I created the excuse. I was trying to determine which one is Megs. Claire and I had another class together and we exchanged phone numbers with the promise we would talk tonight. At last I am in the car on my way home.

Mom is doubtful of my new presentation. I can see that in her demeanor. She made small talk as she drove home. She asked non threatening questions such as “how was school? Did you make friends and the like?”

I just wanted to get home and shed this uniform so I am less than enthusiastic. I wanted to talk to Meg. I wanted to figure out who (he) is. I knew if I wore that black baseball cap with the gold P Meg was smart enough to take the hint. I never met a Pirate fan in Northern NY. They have not forgiven us for Mazeroski’s home run nineteen years ago. I still have the taped broadcast of that game. Well no Bob has that three thousand miles from here. With that thought I tightened up, ‘What am I doing? How do I get out of this mess? I want to see my wife.’ With those thoughts I laughed considering how a seventeen year old girl misses her wife. The old lady would go nuts if she heard that thought. Mom stared at me noting my sudden change of demeanor.

“What is wrong?” She asked.

“Nothing just stray thoughts, no biggie.” By three pm, we were pulling into the driveway.

In the front door and like a streak I run up the stairs practically diving into my room closing the door quickly. Within seconds the uniform was stripped off and I found myself in the shower. Washing this body is an adventure feeling sensations I never before felt. No it was not the first shower I took as Sarah but it is the first time I felt myself up. I shook my head at that thought, ’no I am examining my attributes nothing so crass as feeling myself up. That seventy year old man needs to keep those thoughts at bay’. When I stepped out I dressed in a pair of royal blue shorts and pink tee. As I brushed my hair my gaze froze upon the image. “O.M.G!” I exclaimed “I do look like her just like she did on the Physical album.”

I gazed at my legs then the face then the hair. I quickly ran back to the dresser, lost the shorts and threw on a pair of jeans before I went down stairs. Olivia had worn her hair longer until the Physical album release in 1981. The hair makes the difference. I relaxed a bit thinking ’they won’t say hey I look like O.N.J. Not for two years anyway and I will be gone.’ In the hall mirror I glanced at myself knowing full well the hair cut made little difference. I am still a babe and have to be very careful.

“Yes, you are beautiful.” My mother’s voice broke my trance. I wanted to say ‘I know that is what scares me.’ Instead in a small voice I scratched out “no more than you.”

I stepped off the stairs walking into the kitchen. I poured a cup of coffee from the always on pot and sat at the table, “mom?”

Gretchen cautiously entered still not convinced Sarah’s recent behavior is not another ploy as she waited for the other shoe to drop. Mrs. Ryan has seen this before as the cycle of resistance, rebellion and feigned cooperation repeated itself numerous times in the past three years. She was battle worn growing tired of the never ending war that raged between them. She wore pastel blue sweats while leaning against the kitchen sink slowly sipping her coffee considering her daughter. “Where do we go from here?” Without waiting for an answer she approached the table sitting quietly.

I slowly pushed a few sheets of paper along the table toward mother. “Will you sign these permission slips?”

Gretchen blinked as she scanned the forms, “excuse me you want to join the Outing Club and the Track team?”

Nodding, I narrowed my eyes, “I have not got anything else to do besides doing this I get excused from gym. I never went to gym anyway.”

Gretchen slowly nods her assent eyes searching my countenance trying to sense the my sincerity wondering if this is just another ploy. “Ok”, she pauses. “I want a school schedule of when and where for each event, including practice times.”

I smile receiving the signed forms thinking, ‘wow this girl has really burned her bridges the stench of distrust is over powering.’ “As soon as I get one from the school. You know I love hiking and as for track I like running. You never stop telling me, I should get involved in school.”

Gretchen agreed still not sold on this new Sarah.

The phone rang Gretchen intercepted it to hear grandmother’s voice. “It’s Grams for you,” mother said.

“Hi Gram how are you,” I asked cautiously. The soft but stern reply came, “did you hear about Mark and Walter.” I thought about this pausing before answering. “I, don’t know what you are talking about. What happened?”

Eleanor Parks, Sarah’s maternal grandmother drew herself up to her full five and a half feet. She exhaled slowly before answering.

“They were killed in a gun fight with drug dealers from the city.” She adds with a hint of irony, “about the time you were eating your hot dogs.”

I blinked pressing the phone close to my ear. ‘I came that close huh?’ I wanted to say good but thought the better of it. I considered inwardly ‘this is serious shit the Voice was not lying.’

Grams replied agreeing ending with “yes it is serious, just who is the Voice?”

I blinked, “the Voice? Oh that, just an inner feeling I get. It told me or should I say warned me.”

My eyes were wide not because of the information Grams imparted but as to how close I came to real trouble. I did not dare think.

Grams said, “let me talk to your mother.”

I gladly handed off the phone. “Mom can I use Dad’s word processor and printer to do my homework?”

Gretchen covered the phone nodding her assent.

Still shaking I enter father’s office walking toward the word processor and flop into the chair. I open my PDA nearly screaming in my head at the Voice, "are you there?”

Within seconds, “yes Sarah.”

Somewhat wired I begin, “excuse me but how come you never warned me about Grams? She can read my thoughts!” I repeated to the Voice how Grams heard my unspoken thoughts during our phone conversation.

“Calm down Sarah. She can only do that when you use the PDA or the phone.” The voice relayed trying to defuse my obvious angst.

“That makes me feel a whole lot better. Just wear a tin foil hat when talking to Grams on the phone. I feel much better now.” I pause realizing just how stupid that sounded.

“Sarah that won’t work. I suspect you know that.” Then the voice laughs, “I’d like to see you wearing one. I suggest don’t use the phone.”

I consider his suggestion for a moment. “You are telling a teenage girl to avoid the phone. Are you serious? Girl power rule number one is never, ever venture too far from a phone. How many other people do I have to worry about? This is not exactly a fair game here.”

With an exaggerated exhale the voice admits, “no one else at least yet. Your grandmother is the only one you should encounter with the ability. As I told you before discovery of information is part of the challenge.”

I close with, “thanks.”

It took an hour for me to complete and print out my homework. During that time I did talk to Claire on the phone. It was mostly a bonding and gathering of information about students conversation. I learned which ones were ok and those to avoid according to Claire. I tried to focus the conversation toward new students.

“Uh Claire, how many new seniors transferred in this year? I hear there were four.”

After a thoughtful pause, the answer came. “Let’s see, you, a girl named Erin and two guys. Let me think a moment, there is a hunk football player. Jake Gibbons is his name and the other guy looks like a geek.” She stops to gather her thoughts then continues. “Hal Cowles is his name.”

I respond, “a geek! You mean like a pocket protector and high water pants with suspenders?”

After a period of loud laughing Claire said, “you are funny. No silly he wears the same uniform as everybody else. He is cute about six foot but acts like a geek. You know confident, quiet, no obvious friends, like that. He seems to keep to himself.”

I emit a loud sigh, “oh I like did something radical.”

Claire wows “What was that!”

I whisper into the phone, “joined the outing club and thinking about going out for track.”

Claire processes this information responding, “at least you will meet Hal. He is in the outing club.”

I hear the outside door close. “Gotta go, dad’s home.”

I open my PDA searching for the Gibbons and Cowles families. 'Strange how this thing works when there is no internet.’ “What no comment Voice?” There is no response. Once finding the addresses I consider just where they are in relationship to my house and the school. ‘Interesting, you cannot see Giant Mountain from the Gibbons house. But’, my eyes widen, ‘from Hal’s you can. The door opens.

“Can you come into the kitchen Mom and I want to talk to you for a minute?” Dad says appearing relaxed and not too parental.

I stand nodding cautiously mouthing Ok. As I follow my thought race, ‘frak! Another family meeting just what I need. Upon entering the kitchen I hear myself humming the words, “maybe I hang around here a little more than I should.” I suddenly giggle. When the thought strikes me ‘God, I wish I had that voice. What do you think can this little witch conjure that up? As Bob, I remembered melting every time I heard that song.’ As Sarah, I don't wait for any cues. I go straight to the coffee pot. Then sit at the table with blue eyes tracing the caramel colored swirls as the liquid seeks its level in the cup cradled in both hands.

Dad begins carefully searching for words “the phone bill came.”

“Yes sooooooo.” I answer dragging out the word. "Doesn't this happen every month?"

In a resolute voice dad inquires “do you know anything about this call to Pittsburgh?” He pushes the bill along the table toward me. I set down the cup eyeing the paper cautiously.

My fingers trace to the offending line. “Oh that,” I offer while nodding. “KDKA radio station. I called the talk show to find out where to buy a Pirate hat. It is not like you can get one up here. You work for the phone company long distance is free.” I sit back thinking, 'point for me'.

Needing to establish authority dad announces, “that is not the point. You are to ask before making long distance phone calls.”

I offer another shrug dismissively. “You will see another on the next bill. Ben’s Sporting Goods did not have a toll free number.” I blink sheepishly while adding for affect, my little girl pout. “I ordered a hat.” I always knew dads were easy. When hit with that innocent pout.

Mom tries to stifle a laugh almost spraying her coffee. I remain silent maintaining my innocent gaze. Dad appears somewhat relaxed but must establish authority. “the next time you ask before calling long distance." What did the hat cost you?”

I stall at first admitting, “twenty bucks.”

It suddenly struck me ’that is 2011 prices. You were had girl. In 1979 we are talking five bucks.’ I retreat trying to become small in my chair.

Dad almost chokes, “twenty bucks what is it gold!”

A sheepish smile, “it is the official team hat with next day UPS shipping included. No tax.” I add as an aside.

Dad can only say, did you get your homework done?”

“It is on your desk.” I quickly answer adding, “what about my grounding is it over yet?”

My thought is ‘I bet they thought that was a drug deal.’

A resolute voice from mother replies, “that is what we wanted to talk about. I will let your father explain.”

Mr. Ryan takes a long draught from his cup firmly setting it down on the table before beginning to illustrate his ideas. “Sarah your grounding is over. You have done very well since the hot dog incident.”

“Great” I interrupt, “so I can go out.”

“Not exactly young lady there are some new rules. We decided not to establish a curfew.”

I frown while mother adopts her deer in the head lights expression.

“No curfew are you serious?” I eep out with astonished eyes. ‘This cannot be true,’ I think.

Dad interjects, “this what we are going to do. There will be no going out on school nights.”

“What!” I find myself yelling.

“Except when you have a specific event or need. If it is school related or going to the library, whatever, we bring you to and then back home. There will be no dating. On the weekends you can stay out until ten on Friday and Saturday and 8 on Sunday. Again specific places with supervision verified by either your mother or me. There is no acceptable reason you or any girl to be wandering about town during the school nights. And no dating”

The bombshell dropped. I know outrage is required so I argued “I am almost eighteen.”

Dad responds, “when you are eighteen we will discuss change. That is not until summer. These are the rules dictated by past behavior. I agree you have been very good but you know trust is hard to win back.”

I sit back considering this with mixed feelings. The teenager in my Sarah persona is outraged. Seventy year old Bob saying, good plan.

“Can I go now?” I asked presenting an unreadable expression.

Both parents nod and I walk upstairs. Halfway up the stairs I hear dad say, “She spent twenty bucks for a baseball cap?” This is followed by a giggle from mother.

Martin Ryan sips his coffee considering the just ended exchange as he watches Gretchen cook the dinner hamburgers. “What do you think Gretchen? I admit the girl has me confused I expected a blow up but none came.”

Gretchen turns, hands on her hips tossing her head from side to side. Her eyes grow wide in a mused expression, betraying her confusion. “I, don’t know it is almost like the quiet before the storm. Part of me thinks all our hard work is finally showing fruit. The other part of me says this girl is not Sarah.”

Martin moves closer to his wife nodding. “I know you should have seen her on the mountain she was full of energy. She loved every minute of it. No matter how good you are you can’t fake that. Why don’t you call your mother and ask her what she thinks happened?”

Gretchen places the burgers on the table as there is a knock on the door. “Will you get that Martin? I did talk to mother I will tell you her thoughts when you come back.”

Martin returns with a small package for Sarah dropping it at her usual place on the table. “It looks like her hat is here it says Ben’s Sporting goods. So what did your mother say?”

Gretchen rushes her answer as she can hear Sarah exiting her room. The girl could always smell food, especially if it was burgers with golden brown fries. “Mom said, don’t worry whatever happened to Sarah it was for the better. Just keep a tight reign she has already told us she needs one.”

I sat on my bed legs crossed ignoring my PDA. I did not want to talk with Mr. Voice. The confrontation in the kitchen got me to thinking. There was no way mom and dad could enforce their draconian rules. At my age I could walk and they could not stop me. The real Sarah knew that as did I. What those rules achieve makes my job easier. Yes old Bob will go along with it dragging Sarah along kicking and screaming. I have to find a way to present a reasonable resistance.

I heard the delivery guy so I bounced downstairs. When I arrived in the kitchen I quickly noticed the package opening it at once. There is a note inside the hat printed on an index card. It says, dear Ms. Ryan this is the collectors series personally autographed by one of the Pirates on the inside head band. The signature is coated with a clear poly enamel to protect it from body oils. As you did not specify we sent the Willie Stargell personally signed model.

My eyes open wide as I exclaim, “it is signed by Pops!”

Mother frowns while father examines the hat with a smile. He says, “that explains the price.” I quietly eat my dinner wearing the black cap with the gold P.

At the end of the meal I clear the table singing softly, “we both know I’ve got somewhere else to go.” Still singing I rinse placing plates in the dishwasher. “Not enough to run the machine, tomorrow maybe?” Then I rush out of the kitchen to answer the ringing phone.

Martin looks at Gretchen “what was that all about?”

Gretchen shrugs, “she did that yesterday too.”

Martin shakes his head, “no I meant the singing did you hear her singing voice?”

Gretchen smiles, “she did that yesterday as well she sounds amazing.”

The woman pours another cup of coffee sitting down next to her husband. “What is going on?”

Martin shrugs, “I, don’t know but your mother has seen it too. She says don’t worry. I often wondered about that woman.”

Gretchen replies, “don’t go there.”

While holding the phone I walk into the kitchen, “mom can I ask Claire to come over Friday after school? We can hang out and have pizza for dinner.”

Gretchen looks up, “who is Claire?”

“A friend from school, Claire Wilson, she does not live too far from here.”

Martin looks to his wife who nods her assent.

Gretchen takes the phone. “Let me talk to Mrs. Wilson.”

The two women talk for a few minutes making arrangements agreeing to have Claire ride home with Sarah and Mrs. Wilson will pick her daughter up at ten pm.

I walk back into the living room with the phone because some parts of this conversation are private.

I said to Claire “your mom is just like mine.”
“No shit” answers Claire, “they have to know everything all the time. I am glad you are in the same boat, misery likes company.”

While laughing I ask, “Point out that Cowles kid to me tomorrow will you?”

Claire agrees laughing “the blonde is on the prowl huh?”

Gritting my teeth in a defensive posture I minimize. “Only my curiosity I have not seen a pocket protector in years that’s all. They, won’t even let me date for God sake. Seventeen and I can't date, how provincial.”

Claire with a smiling voice, “me too, two virgin ice princesses locked in the tower. Like I said at least I have company. We could rebel though.”

Sarah laughs, “tried that and I wound up at preppy tech with the promise the next stop was the convent.”

Claire ends with a laugh saying, “later.” I say goodnight in my cryptic girl code, “later” and hang up.

Out of boredom I turn on the TV to channel surf stopping momentarily at a news channel to hear the guy say, “SaraLee has announced a two for one stock split. Excitement erupts with a loud “Cool!”

Mom and dad run into the room “what was that all about?” mom asks.

Dad smiles “since when did you start caring about stock splits?”

I, shrug “since I assimilated I, guess.” Both parents standing there with puzzled expressions as I ascend the stairs mumbling, “resistance is futile.”

I fire up my PDA with the intention of listening to the ball game when I am interrupted by the Voice. “It is about time where have you been?”

After a blink, I repeat his words. “Huh where have I been! I have been busting my hump on your project. School, grams, making friends and placating my parents. I thought in my spare time I’d run for the Senate.” There is a long pause before any response is heard.

“Don’t you think you might be over playing your hand?”

Incredulously, I respond “what? My goal is to be reunited with Megan. To do that, I have to straighten out this girl’s life. In case you had not noticed she is alive today because of me. Do you get it, it is because of my actions. You don’t tell me the rules of this game you let me spin around groping in the dark. What is your problem?”

The Voice comes back with “settle down. I just think you need to create some conflict you are making this too easy for them. Sneak out raise some cane.”

This caused me to raise my ire. “If you had not noticed, dad removed the trellis. You think I am dealing with pushovers here? Grams is a witch she can hear me just like you. Hey Jack if this is so easy how come your team screwed it up?” My slow burn is simmering when the Voice came back yet again.

“You are taking this all wrong. I just thought you were not causing enough doubt in their minds.”

I bite my sore lip again. 'I have to stop doing that.' “what do you want? You want me to go out and cause some trouble? Why do I get the feeling you are setting me up?”

I am about to break the connection when the Voice says. “ok, ok you do it your way.”

“I will ask you again what is it you want regarding a result?”

The voice murmurs a bit not answering. Determined I again push, “look you may have a seventeen year old girl here in body. You are dealing with a PHD who has been around the block a few times. What do you expect? What result do you require for you to do as promised? Remember what you said? Megs and I to be reunited in young adult bodies and be together. Or did you forget that?”

The voice finally answers, “get the girl thorough high school and repair the relationship with her parents.”

I as Sarah consider this, “and the real Sarah what about her?”

The voice hesitates “um she will get her body back if she carries out her duties.”

I emit a doubtful expression, “ok Voice I’m doing my part.” Then break the connection.

With the ball game playing in the back ground I sat on my bed legs crossed and dangling. My thoughts are troubled more so than any time since I encountered this oddball situation. ‘I have this nagging feeling I am being set up. This guy actually tried to get me to what set fire to the A&P? Or knock off the bank, perhaps buy some joints or get laid in city park?’ The problem with this situation is that Bob or Sarah, whoever, the hell, I am is beginning to suffer from the Stockholm syndrome. I stare blankly at the mint green pastel bed room wall evaluating my situation. ‘Not too long ago I was a happy old man troubled by my wife’s health.

Not once did I ever day dream about being female or what it would be like. Never ever gazed at a male with any sexual desire. The very idea of that would make my skin crawl.’ Bob grins looking down at his legs marveling on how desirable they looked. He laughed ‘and I never tried on my sister’s clothes. Here I am downloaded into a young girl. Even worse she is drop dead gorgeous. If that is not bad enough I have discovered what an experience a period is. What is even worse I understand what prey I have become just walking through school wearing a skirt.’ The ballgame was winding down when I shut it off satisfied my side won. ‘Worse yet I honestly like Sarah, perhaps more than she did herself. To a certain extent I envy her. Her dad is cool and mom is a tiger who would die for me.’

I walk over to the mirror gazes into it, smile and think, ‘die for me did I say that?’ The room fills with a sound, “maybe I hang around here a little more than I should.” It sounded more like Olivia than Sarah. As I drifted off to sleep my last thought was ‘I have to protect this girl.’