Easy As Falling Off a Bike pt 3179

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Part 3179
by Angharad

Copyright© 2017 Angharad

  
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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
*****

“What did you do today, Mummy?” asked Trish and I found myself colouring up, fortunately she was looking the other way.

“Oh the usual, you know, meetings.”

“Meetings, they sound more fun than boring maths.”

“I thought you enjoyed maths.”

“I do but this stuff is like ten years behind me.” I keep forgetting there’s the brain of a twenty year old genius inside the body of twelve year old girl. “Who was your meeting with?”

“I met with the departmental management accountant this morning and this afternoon, I met with le Duc de Burgundy.” Well it was true except the butterfly could have been a duchess rather than a duke.

“Wow, a frog aristocrat—had his head been cut off?”

“I think I might have noticed if it had been.”

“A duke a frog? He should be something exotic and colourful like a bird or a butterfly,” said Livvie again not noticing my sudden suffusion of blood to the superficial vessels of my face and neck.

“A butterfly?” mocked Trish.

“Yes,” snapped Livvie, “a butterfly, people who have socialist inclinations are called butterflies, alright?”

“I think you mean socialite rather than socialist, Liv.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Quite a lot. A socialist is someone who believes in a political philosophy, like all property should be shared or everyone should have the same amount. A socialite is someone who mixes with others at parties and social occasions, hence the butterfly term applied to them.”

“Perhaps he’s a socialist butterfly, thinks everyone should come to the party,” said Livvie and they all squealed with laughter, except Danielle who winced with me.

“Nah, he’s a socialist socialite, he thinks he should go to everyone’s party,” quipped Trish and once more Danielle and I winced at the squeal that pervaded our senses. Why do young girls have to squeal and shriek so loudly, they usually have splendid hearing so must damage each others in close proximity.

“Twish, why did you think he’d had his head cut off?” asked Meems, who isn’t slow she just likes to think about things.

“French revolution, liberty, egality an’ frat something or other—it made them all the same height when they had their heads cut off.” Trish’s take on ‘le revolution’ was somewhat different to most people’s.

“For eternity,” said Hannah, “it’s not fat anything.”

“It’s fraternity—means something to do with American universities where they all have strange Latin names like phi delta tango.” Livvie was a bit more confused than usual. I did however manage not to snort or snigger or even smirk.

“It’s Liberté, egalité et fraternité, means freedom, equality and brotherhood, you dummies,” said Danielle after hearing the various forms the younger girls had concocted. “If you stopped bloody talking in class, you might hear something.”

All that brought was ‘Oohs’ and giggles, which are nearly but not quite as annoying as shrieks and squeals. As soon as I stopped the car Danielle was out and off into the house.

“Woss wrong with her?” asked Trish.

“I have no idea, just let her alone for a bit, okay?”

“Yeah” or “alright,” came back as responses to my instruction. I didn’t know but I would do my damnedest to find out—this is not like Danielle who is usually even tempered and relaxed about most things and has a benign big sisterly approach to her younger siblings most of the time. I mean, tween-age girls get on most people’s toot some of the time, as do similarly aged boys, it’s sort of training so they can do it all the time as teenagers.

The girls were still on about the French revolution and guillotines as we entered the house. David was working in the kitchen and we exchanged pleasantries as the girls helped themselves to drinks and a biscuit.

“What all that about the French?”

“French revolution, I suspect they’ve just done it in history or something.”

“Ah, that makes sense, so does my boeuf bourguignon, some coincidence eh?”

That was nothing, wait until I tell him about my meeting with the duke of Burgundy, which is of course what bourguignon means, Burgundy beef—a casserole in red wine. Oh well a bit different—but the coincidence is pretty huge, but then they sometimes are in my experience. Whether that’s just me or what I hate to think.

“Mummy met the duke,” said Livvie, the better of the linguists amongst my motley crew.

“What, John Wayne?” gasped David. This was now getting too surreal for me, so I took my tea and excused myself to my study where I intended to transfer my photos to the computer to see if they were worth keeping. I last heard him explaining that Wayne’s nickname was ‘Da Dook.’ Once again the girls were shrieking with laughter.

I drank my tea and loaded my photos then discarded half of them, there was more wind than I noticed or I’m developing camera shake, and that bloody woman’s fingers with the pupa. Oh well I should feel privileged to have seen one. That done, I went up to change calling at Danni’s room on the way. She was standing staring out the window.

I spoke quietly and then put my arms around her from behind. “What’s the matter, darling?”

“I’m always gonna be a freak, aren’t I?”

“What d’you mean?” I said feeling a cold sensation in my solar plexus.

She explained that her so called boyfriend had discovered her past and dumped her by text, like they do today.

“He doesn’t deserve you, so that’s his loss.”

“He said he wouldn’t tell anyone he was dating a freak ’cos it would reflect on him, make him look like a fairy.”

I shut her bedroom door and made her sit facing me on the bed. “You are not a freak, you’re a lovely and very beautiful young woman who has incredible soccer skills. You’re also one of the nicest young women I know and I’m not saying that because you’re my daughter. Everyone who knows you thinks the same.”

“’Cept one.”

“He’s jealous because you’re better at the sport than he is.”

“Now he knows why, because I’m a fucking boy too.” She threw herself face down into her pillow. I felt so angry that I could have slapped the boy who upset her, no wonder she was a bit off in the car, a lesser woman would have cried all the way home.

“Look, darling, we discussed this some time ago after the assault by Peter. You agreed that it would be better to accept life as a girl and I have to say that you’ve done so brilliantly at it that I am so proud of you.”

“I wish I was dead,” she sniffed out loud to no one in particular. “I wish I’d died when he did it. It’d be better than this freakdom.”

“Is that how you see the rest of us—as freaks?” I felt very hurt by her comment but understood it and I needed somehow to get inside her thoughts and turn them from destructive urges to more positive ones.

“No—you an’ Trish knew you were girls when you were young, me—I thought I was a boy.”

“What about all the girly stuff with Peter before he assaulted you?”

“That was just a game—like dressin’ up—didn’t think I’d be doin’ it permanently.”

“What about the football, haven’t you enjoyed playing for England? You’ve made the rest of us so proud of you.”

“That’s about the best bit until someone tells the papers and they come lookin’ for me, calling me a cheat.”

“They can’t, you qualify as a female player and the FA and your local team have signed up to that.”

“They’ll drop me as soon as it happens.”

“They may regret it, I’ll get Jason to start one of the biggest law suits ever seen in this country.”

“Not worth it, if we won I wouldn’t wanna play for them anyway.”

“That would be for you to decide—but it may not happen.”

“It will.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic and think of other transgender children coming after you. You have to fight on for their sake.”

“I’m not transgender, am I? Or wasn’t until that idiot got hold of a scalpel. Now I am. I’m a freak.”

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Comments

We're Treading onThin Ice

littlerocksilver's picture

These are the signs of serious problems. Cathy is going to have to use every bit of skill she has in order to prevent a tragedy.

Portia

Hmmm, after all these vitirol

Hmmm, after all these vitirol comments coming from Danielle, I would be hiding all the sharp instruments in the house. Danielle is showing some definite needs for extreme counseling right now. I can understand she is completely upset about her "love life", but Cathy needs to get her some professional help and as soon as she can.

Thank you Angharad,

' for another 'thinking girls ' chapter ,life indeed was not meant to be easy !

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What a Chapter

Christina H's picture

The two halves melded perfectly the light hearted banter about the French Revolution then down to earth with a bang when Danielle's problem is out in the open the rest are so right some serious professional help is needed for the poor girl.

Thought provoking in the extreme

Christina

Oops ! This is

not good, Poor Danni life had been progressing so nicely, Then a few thoughtless words from someone more interested in his own standing amongst his comtemparies than the feelings of his girlfriend and Danni is thrown into a very negative view of how her life has turned out .

Cathy needs to move quickly to ensure that Danielle does not drop further into negative thoughts, It won't be easy but Danni is normally quite a chirpy well balanced female , Support from her friends will play a large part in what we all hope will be a quick return to Danielle Cameron, England ladies football superstar and a girl who knows that perhaps that this is not the life she might have envisaged for herself , But its the life she has got and she is jolly well going to make the best of it ...

Kirri

Oh it's so difficult.

I hope Cathy will find ways to help with Danielle's dilemma. That boy doesn't deserve her.

Oh s--t!

Now the struggle starts.

Was she just a boy with transvestite tendencies when the 'idiot' took the scalpel or was she a nascent, slow-developing trans-sexual?

At that young age things can truly be a melting pot because there can be so many aspects to the gender id., vis-a-vis, sexuality perspectives. Besides that, Dannie may possibly be right and the consequences of that do not bear thinking about. One thing I can be certain of is this.
Psychiatrists do not always get it right, though they've come a long way in these last seventy-one years.

Still lovin' it.

Thanks again Ang.

bev_1.jpg

"Are you a boy, or are you a girl?........."

Interesting concept, Danni is a girl because of a brutal attack when she was cross-dressing, now after surgery and hormones, Danni has a woman's body and thoughts. She never was transgendered. A different entrance to womanhood than most indeed. Good luck Mom!

Another thought provoking chapter Ang.

Karen

This sounds like a serious episode

for Danni. Cathy needs to watch things very carefully and have some deep conversations with her. Perhaps time for professional help too. We sometimes forget that she is only a teen and at a very stressful time of life for any teen.