Nothing in Brady’s life has turned out as he’d hoped, and every time he closes his eyes, he sees ghosts. When a specialist offers help, they look for answers in memories of his last perfect day-- a time when anything in life seemed possible, and the day he met the girl he can’t forget.

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Chapter 1
The leather crunched as Brady sat on the couch. The tall man looked up from his desk.

“How are you feeling?”

Brady shook his head. His life was the same as last week and the week before. Nothing had changed for him in a long time.

Dr. Ponder’s lips curled into a thin smile. “I thought we’d gotten past the ‘not talking to me’ stage.”

Brady shrugged, “There’s not much to say.” He slumped into the seat. He knew his story sounded crazy. The doctor would never understand. No one could understand. He saw her everywhere.

“I thought we made progress last week.”

“I guess.” The doctor asked a lot of questions but didn’t offer many answers.

Dr. Ponder looked at his notes. “You spoke about your childhood friends. You spoke about one boy in particular.”

Brady smiled despite himself. “Stan the Man.”

“Tell me about him.”

“I haven’t thought about Stan in years.” Brady’s voice quivered as he spoke, hoping the man wasn’t a mind reader. When the doctor didn’t look up from his notes, Brady continued, “He was my best friend.”

“Interesting…” Doctor Ponder said, his words probing for an answer.

“What’s interesting about my friend?” Brady eyed the Doctor, looking for a sign.

Doctor Ponder stopped writing. “You’ve mentioned at our last session you’ve had trouble creating friendships. From your descriptions, you didn’t have the problem as a child.”

Brady nodded his head. “I had a lot of friends as a kid. There was Stan and Petey and Jordy. Stuart, Dominic, Skip, and Marcus too. We lived in the same neighborhood, we rode the same school bus, and spent most of our summer on the baseball diamond.”

Dr. Ponder peered from behind his glasses, “You played baseball? I thought most kids spent their summers playing video games.”

“Not in my hometown.”

Doctor Ponder made more notes. “In our last session, you mentioned seeing a girl from your past. I don’t think it’s a coincidence your spiral began afterward. I noticed, you’re using her name.”

“I told you her name?” Brady took a breath, hoping to control his feelings. The thought of Brandi set his heart a racing. He saw her everywhere. “It’s a long story.”

Doctor Ponder smiled like a conman who’d trapped his mark. “Listening to stories is what I do. Why don’t you make yourself more comfortable? I’ll come over there. Would you like something to drink?”

Brady shook his head as he leaned back a pillow and looked at the ceiling. “I met her on the last perfect day.” He’d obsessed over every detail of the day since it happened.

Dr. Ponder asked, “The last perfect day?”

“You know…” Brady lay down and propped his feet up on the couch. “… one of those days you’re too young to appreciate. You don’t have any responsibilities, so you can do anything you want. The weather is perfect. You play all day and go to bed exhausted, then wake the next day bounding with energy to do it again.”

Doctor Ponder nodded, “Why was this one so memorable?”

“The day changed my life. Afterward, everything turned to shit.”

“One single day changed your life?”

Brady crossed his arms over his chest, “I don’t see what good can come of talking about it.”

“Humor me.” Doctor Ponder held up a pad of paper.

Brady frowned, “Where do you want me to start?”

“The beginning would be good.”

Brady fought the beginnings of a panic attack. “I … uhh … I don’t…”

Dr. Ponder spoke in an even tone. “Take a deep breath. Count down from ten.”

Brady nodded, “10 … 9 … 8 … 7 … 6 … 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1 …” With each number, Brady sensed his eyes growing heavy until darkness closed around him.

Chapter 2
“Wake up pansy.”

Brady pulled the covers from his eyes. His best friend’s head stared through the open bedroom window.

“Screw you Stan.”

Stan laughed, “Get dressed ya bum. Everyone else is at the stop sign.”

Brady hopped from the bed, picked up clothing from the floor, and started to get dressed. He didn’t have time for a shower, but a baseball cap worked as well as a comb. When he ran out the front door, he saw the whole gang waiting at the corner.

Stan stood on the sidewalk in front of his house. “I heard your parents are fighting again.”

Brady looked at his friend, not wanting to explain.

“Petey told me. He told everyone.”

Brady nodded. Petey lived in the house three down from his own.

Stan said, “No one is going to say a word.”

Brady looked to the corner and saw the others trying not to look in his direction.

“Thanks Stan.”

In his hands, Stan held a piece of Louisville’s finest lumber. “I brought your favorite bat.” Most kids used aluminum, but not Stan or Brady.

Brady took the bat, then put his mitt over the handle and leaned it against his shoulder. Every kid in the neighborhood carried a bat and glove this time of year.

Petey called from the corner. “Are you two girls going to chat all morning?”

Stan sped up. “We’re coming.”

The morning air was cool, but not cool enough to call it cold. Dew lay on the grass, so the group stuck to the sidewalk so they didn’t get their shoes wet. They’d experienced wet shoes and a dirty baseball field enough times to know to avoid it.

Their parents didn’t allow a trek of this length a few years ago. JFK Park was a little over a mile from the stop sign, according to Stuart’s Dad. Everyone split into groups of two. Brady walked beside Stan.

Stan asked, “Did you watch the game last night?”

“Nah.” Brady didn’t offer a reason why he’d missed it. Stan knew not to ask.

“It was amazing. The Cardinals won 5-4. Isringhausen got the win.”

Brady said, “The Cards are struggling. Too many injuries.”

“They’ll win it all this year. You’ll see.”

Stan gave Brady a confident smile. His friend had a natural charm which allowed him to fit in with any group, including the coolest kids at school. Brady sat with them, even if some made it clear they’d never welcome him otherwise.

A voice called from the front. “Do you think the eighth graders will be there today?” Everyone looked to Stan.

Stan shouted back. “I hope so. We owe them one.”

This got a few hearty laughs. Petey said, “Yeah. We owe them more than one. Fuck those guys.”

Neither Stan nor Brady said a word as their friends took turns talking about the eighth graders. Few sounded as confident as Petey.

John F Kennedy Park had seen better days, but none of their group cared. It had a backstop, four bases, and a pitcher’s mound. It was everything you needed to play baseball. JFK also had a homerun fence, benches for both teams, and bleachers for parents.
Brady met Stan at this park. He moved to town after children’s services found his current family. No one expected much from the new kid. Stan approached him after he hit his third line drive into the left-center gap. Their friendship lasted to this day.

The group ran as they approached the field.

“I call second base,” Jordy shouted.

Petey said, “No way. I’m our second baseman.”

No one else had arrived at the baseball diamond, but this wasn’t surprising. The sun sat low on the horizon.

Everyone looked to Stan. “We’ll start with batting practice. You guys know your positions. I pitch. Stuart on first. Petey at second. Skip at short. Jordy at third. Marcus in center, Brady in left, and Dom in right.”

Jordy asked, “Who’s going to bat?”

Stan smiled. “Good point.” He gripped one of the three baseball he held in his glove. “Jordy, you’re up first. Skip will cover shortstop and third base. Everyone gets ten pitches, then we’ll rotate.”

Jordy dug in and gave a confident look as he stepped into the batter’s box. Stan stared, then reared back, putting the first pitch three inches from Jordy’s ankle.
“You wanted to make me jump.”

“Sorry.” Stan smiled. “The ball slipped.”

The next pitch was a floater straight down the middle. Brady heard the plink of the metal bat, which sent him running. It wasn’t hard to track the ball. A simple pop-up to shallow left. He made the easy toss to the mound. Jordy dug in at the plate for another try.

Stuart’s voice boomed louder than everyone, “How can you like the prequels better than the original trilogy? No one likes the prequels.”

Dominic said, “I like the prequels.”

Stan winked at Brady as Stuart and Dominic’s voices continued to rise. They argued about something every afternoon. It wouldn’t take long for the others to join.

Stan asked, “Want a sandwich?”

Brady shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? My Mom made two.”

Brady shrugged, “Well … if you aren’t eating it.”

Brady shivered at the funny feeling as he looked at his friend and took a bite of the sandwich. Stan’s Mom made the best lunches. Ham and cheese with a little bit of mustard. It was good as always. Stan passed him a bag of chips and a soda. Brady took both without comment. Stan’s Mom was the best.

The rest of the group spread out on the bleachers, food from their sack lunches on display for the others to see. The bartering began at once.

“I’ll give you my apple for your candy bar.”
“Only if you give me your grape soda.”
“No way. Give me half of your sour patch.”
“It’s a deal.”

Brady ate without speaking. Like Stan had promised, no one said a word about his parent’s fight. It had started at the dinner table. Dad complained about the food. Mom complained about the lack of money. Everything escalated from there.

“I can’t wait for the Fourth of July parade.”
“Are you marching with your team?”
“No way … the fire trucks are tossing out candy. I’m following them the whole way.”
“I have to march with the Boy Scouts.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, but my Dad likes it.”

No one noticed the approach of the girls. The high-pitched voice took the whole group by surprise. “What-cha doing boys?”

Everyone turned to stare. Conversation stopped. Everyone froze.

Stan said, “Heya Jessica.”

Jessica Sudsfield, the Queen Bee of the playground for as long as Brady remembered. The recent changes to her body made her control more absolute.

“Heya Stan.”

The smile on the girl’s face spoke volumes. Brady gave her an annoyed glance, though he hid it as quick as he could. Stan focused on his lunch.

They’d ‘graduated’ from 7th grade a month ago. It didn’t seem possible Jessica could have changed even more, but his eyes didn’t lie. Brady did his best not to stare. Today, she wore lots of makeup, making her look years older. Her outfit would have gotten her booted from school or at least a visit to the principal’s office.

A few years ago, a girl showing up to the baseball diamond would have gotten a brutal teasing. Today, no one laughed. Brady stared in silence at a sight which both confused and thrilled him. Words alone could not suffice.

Stan continued to eat his sandwich. He didn’t look up as he spoke, “Who’s your friend?”

Brady stared at the girl behind the others. Everyone in school knew Jessica. As always, Kayla Abrams and Erin Taylor stood behind her. Beside them stood a girl who looked as uncomfortable as Brady.

Kayla said, “This is Brandi. She moved into town today. She’s in our grade.”

Stan smiled in the direction of the nervous looking girl. “Nice to meet you, Brandi.”

Brandi gave an awkward wave.

Jessica said, “We’re going to the woods if you want to join us, Stan.”

“Nah.” Stan shook his head. “We’re hoping to get a game going.”

Jessica looked into a small mirror while applying another layer of lip gloss. Her voice purred, “Well … if we have time, we’ll stop back to watch you boys play.”

Stan gave a half a laugh and stopped himself, speaking with a flustered grin, “Sure. If you want.”

No one spoke as they watched the girls walk off in the direction of the woods.

Petey broke the silence. “Stan and Jessica sitting in a tree … K-I-S-S-I-N-G… First comes love…”

Dominic punched friend’s shoulder, “Don’t be a jerk, Petey.”

Brady looked at his group of friends. Every one of them stared as the girls entered the woods. He looked too, his eyes drifting towards the mysterious new girl. If he didn’t know better, he thought she looked at him.

It didn’t take long for the 8th graders to show up. Their leader, a pitcher like Stan, proposed the game’s rules.

“We play six innings. Jason will play catcher for both teams and call the balls and strikes. No stealing bases. No more than a two-step lead off base.”

Stan looked at Brady. “What do you think?”

“Sounds fair,” Brady answered. Jason played catcher for the junior high school team. He was the only one who had catcher’s gear.

Stan insisted. “We were here first, so we’re the home team.”

The bigger kid said, “Fine. I want to bat anyway.”

Brady took his spot in left field, passing a couple eighth graders who sneered at him. Their last game ended in a score of 12-2. Other games this summer were worse.

The eighth graders seemed older than a single year’s difference in age. Most towered over his friends, and outweighed them by twenty pounds. Brady looked around the field. Over the next year, similar changes would happen to his friends too.

Stan threw two warm-up pitches, then shouted, “Let’s get this started.” He’d been throwing all morning.

The leader of the 8th graders showed a cocky grin as he approached home plate. “Fine by me.”

The catcher fired the ball back to Stan on the pitcher’s mound. Stan took a deep breath, reared back, and fired a fastball, high and tight.

“Strike one.”

The leader of the eighth graders turned to face the catcher. “What the hell?”

Jason shrugged at his friend. “You said we’d be fair. I call them like I see them.”

Stan winked at Brady as he returned to the mound. With a fair umpire, they had a chance.

The biggest hurdle playing left field is boredom. You can go innings without a pitch hit in your direction. Focus is the biggest challenge. They entered the 4th inning with the 8th graders leading 5-3.

Brady let his concentration fail for the briefest of moments. A pair of butterflies danced on a dandelion in front of him. He didn’t notice the approach until shouts from the 8th graders’ woke him.

“Come sit by us!”

Brady turned to see the girls walking out of the woods, enjoying the attention.

Seconds later, the crack of a bat focused Brady on the line drive headed for the gap. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, watching as the ball began to dip. He waited until the last second to dive, landing face first on the ground, but catching the ball in the top webbing of his glove.

Brady stood expecting a round of applause, but his teammates ignored him as they sprinted towards the bench. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. The girls stood next to their bleachers.

Jessica purred, “Heya, Stanley.”

The sound of her voice had an effect all around, reminding Brady of a mermaid calling sailors to shore. A few guys laughed. Everyone knew Stan hated it when anyone used his full name. Stan’s Dad named him after Stan ‘the Man’ Musial, the greatest Cardinal player of all-time. Everyone knew this, including Jessica.

Brady understood the reaction when he saw the girls up close. They’d redone their makeup, as if these sirens needed more help enticing their prey. Different colors shaded their brows, dark lines marked both eyelids, and pink gloss shined on their lips. They all wore black nail polish.

A queasy rise pressed in Brady’s stomach.

An 8th grader called. “Come over here and sit with the real men.” Jessica smiled at Stan, “What do you think, Stanley? Should we go over there? Or do you want us to sit with you?”

Stan looked annoyed. “You can sit where ever you want, Jessica.”

Jessica turned without a word, motioning for her group to follow. She made it halfway before noticing not everyone obeyed.

Jessica turned with a scowl, “Brandi?”

The new girl sat on the home team’s bleachers, a slight grin showing on her face. “I’m good here.”

Jessica turned on a heel. Brady watched her skulk off. Behind him, his friends fought for position in hopes of speaking to the girl who defied a queen.

“Great catch, Brady.”

The sound of her voice caught Brady off guard. He turned to see the new girl smiling at him. His friends stood stunned – somehow she knew his name.

Brady replied with a meek, “Thanks.” His eyes followed this girl, his stomach squeezing in a way he couldn’t explain.

A voice pulled him from his daze. “Brady?”

Brady turned to see an annoyed Stan standing in the on-deck circle. “It’s your turn to bat.”

“Oh yeah.”

The other boys laughed as Brady’s face grew pink.

He stepped to the batter’s box as the pitcher took to the mound. The eighth grader made a face meant to intimidate. Brady stole a look at the bleachers. Nothing could scare him today. The first pitch came to the plate inside and wild, forcing Brady to dive to the dirt.

Stan shouted, “Don’t be a jerk.”

The older boy smirked. “We’re going to crush you kids.”

Brady stepped out of the batter’s box to dust himself off. A look at the bench showed the new girl staring. He met her eyes. Blonde hair. Cute lips. The way she’d done her makeup made him feel weird. The longer he looked, the stronger the feeling. It was as if she’d hit him with a beam of energy. Brady steeled his nerves and dug in for another go.

The 7th graders didn’t score in either of the next two innings, but Stan’s pitching kept it close through six innings.

“Last chance, losers. We’re up 6-3.” Their pitcher talked trash all game.

Dominic shouted back, “Shut up.”

“Gonna make me, faggot?” Dominic didn’t respond. Both sides knew a fight wouldn’t end well for the 7th graders.

A soft voice called from behind, “You guys have this. Their pitcher is tiring.”

Petey gave a sigh of frustration. This wasn’t the first time they’d played these 8th graders. Brady’s fiery friend turned, his eyes thick with anger, “What do girls know about baseball?”

Brady held his breath upon hearing his friend’s rudeness, but Brandi didn’t look offended

She said, “This guy has two pitches, a fastball and a slider, and his slider is starting to hang.”

Brady noticed Stan gave Brandi a brief look, before looking away. He shouted to the plate. “Wait for the right pitch, Dom.” Dom struck out swinging on a pitch out of the strike zone.

But Skip legged out a single and Marcus got another, hitting a liner between first and second base. Petey hit a grounder to shortstop scoring a run, sprinting out a double play which would have ended the game. Jordy walked, putting runners on first and second base, bringing Brady to bat.

Brady shrunk as the others looked at him. Stan patted his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “The girl is right. He’s tired. Wait for your pitch.”

A voice shouted from the bleachers. “You’ve got this, Brady.”

Brady turned to look in her direction, and smiled when he saw her eyes. He continued to stare as he took a few practice swings. She looked different, no longer the shy girl he’d seen earlier. Her hair. Her makeup. Her everything. It called to him.

“Are you going to gawk at the bleachers all day?”

Brady shook his head. Time to concentrate. The score was 6-4, down by two runs. Runners on first and second. Two outs. The bottom of the last inning.

Everyone grew up dreaming of situations like this. As Brady surveyed the field, he couldn’t stop thinking about how everything changed. Girls. Boys. School.

The first pitch was a fastball, low and outside.

“Strike one!”

Brady looked at the catcher, who spit on the ground. They both knew the pitch was out of the strike zone. So much for ‘I call them as I see them’. Brady needed to swing at anything close.

Brady looked back to the pitcher, who scowled, hoping to scare him. The kid had a scary fastball but little else. A smart manager would bring in a reliever to close out the game, but today wasn’t about smart things. It was about showing off. The pitcher toed the rubber and threw the next pitch as hard as he could.

This one was high and tight, sending Brady diving to the dirt.

“Ball one.”

Brady backed out of the batters box and looked to the sky. White puffy clouds filled the air, but the sun started to peek through. The official start of summer began a few days earlier. They’d have the 4th of July celebrations soon, but every day for the rest of the year would be a little shorter. It wouldn’t be long until fall arrived, bringing a new school year.

Brady lost track of the next pitch. The pitcher threw it in the dirt.

“Ball two.”

Brady looked at the bench. Stan gave him a nod as Brady took another practice swing. The other guys cheered too, but Brady couldn’t hear it. His eyes drifted to the girl on the bleachers and then back to the pitcher. Thoughts of the girl stuck in his brain as the next pitch came right down the middle.

“Strike two.”

Brady cursed himself. He wasn’t ready, but no one cared. Two balls, two strikes.

Brady bore down in the batter’s box, waiting for the next pitch. He saw the truth as soon as it left the pitcher’s hand. A chaser pitch, low and outside, one of Stan’s favorite ploys. Brady learned not to swing at those through thousands of at-bats.

“Ball three.”

The pitcher smiled and Brady stepped back. Full count. He looked at the girl and their minds connected. Stan was up next. No way the pitcher wanted to face Stan with the bases loaded. This guy threw three fastballs in a row. The girl gave him a slight nod. The next pitch would be a slider.

Brady watched the ball leave the pitcher’s hand in slow motion. The hanging slider headed right into his wheelhouse.

*** Crrraaaccckk ***

The sound of his bat sent a screaming ball into the gap between the left and center field, going all the way to the fence. Brady flew around the bases, sliding into second well before the ball arrived. Both runners scored.
Shouts erupted all along the home side. “Way to go, Brady!” Brady looked to the bleachers and saw the girl wasn’t smiling. Neither did Stan as he stepped into the batter’s box.

6-6.

Brady had seen this look on Stan’s face dozens of times. His friend wouldn’t be happy until they’d won the game. Nothing else mattered. Not girls, not a new school, and not the odd tickle in Brady’s stomach when he stared too long at his friend.
Brady took a two-step lead. The pitcher took a deep breath, then went into his wind-up. It was another slider. Brady was running as Stan swung the bat.

*** Craaacccckkk ***

The entire team stood as Brady rounded third. The ball landed in shallow right, the play would be close. The ball bounded towards the catcher as Brady started his slide. He couldn’t avoid the collision.

He woke to the sound of screaming.

It took a moment to realize the screams coming out of his mouth. Stan had a hand on one shoulder. The new girl held the other. He couldn’t see anyone else.

Stan’s face looked ashen, “Petey ran to get an ambulance.”

Brady couldn’t stop his tears. He passed out the first time he tried to move. The strange girl lay on top of him when he woke. She placed a gentle tobacco-scented kiss on his forehead,

“Don’t move Brady. You’ve got to trust me. Everything is going to be okay.”

Chapter 3

Brady screamed when he woke. He grabbed for his leg but found no pain.

A soothing voice spoke. “It’s ok. You’re back in my office.”

Brady looked around to find himself on Dr. Ponder’s couch. “What happened?”

“I put you into deep hypnosis to help you remember. I brought you out when you started screaming.”

Brady looked at his trembling hands. “It seemed so real.”

The doctor nodded his concern, but gave an impassive look, “Why do you obsess about this day?”

“Isn’t it obvious.” Brady shrugged. “I broke my leg in three places and spent the rest of the summer in a full cast. My life turned to shit.”

Dr. Ponder asked. “Did you win the game?”

“That’s your question?”

The doctor said. “Humor me.”

“Yeah, we won.” Brady shook his head. He needed a cigarette.

“So the game wasn’t all bad.”

Brady shrugged. “It didn’t help my foster parent’s marriage. The medical bills led to more fights. They decided to get a divorce at the end of the summer. I got sent to protective services. Do you know the statistics of thirteen-year-old boys in the system? One day I’m living in one place and the next I’m living somewhere else. I moved to a new town. I lost all my friends. No one kept me for long.”

“You’ve had some bad breaks.”

Brady stared at the doctor. “Bad breaks? Wow, doc. You’re killing me.”

The doctor looked unapologetic. “Sorry, poor word choice.”

Brady pursed his lips. The doctor had used bad jokes in their previous meeting to break the tension. He wasn’t going to fall for it this time.

Dr. Ponder said, “I like your outfit. It suits you.”

Brady straighten his posture but didn’t bother to reply. His outfit would have looked ridiculous on a thirty-two-year-old woman. It looked down right silly on a man the same age. The red pleated skirt was better suited to a teenage girl. It looked worse combined with a white blouse dotted with little pink bows. The long bleached hair and an overabundance of makeup didn’t help either.
The doctor’s eyes rose, “How long have you been crossdressing?”

Brady shrugged.

Dr. Ponder nodded as he made a note. “Did you try on your Mom’s clothing as a child?”

Brady shook his head. “I don’t remember. I have memories of a girl like she’s hiding in the back of my mind.”

“She? As in, a different person hiding inside of you?”

Brady looked at the floor. “Yeah.”

“I notice you use the name Brandi.”

“Brady. Brandi. The names are close. It made sense.”

The doctor nodded, “OK.”

Dr. Ponder held out his hand holding a golden object attached to a long chain. “I want you to take this.”

“What is it?”

Dr. Ponder said, “It’s a good luck charm.”

Brady touched the stone. It had a heft he didn’t expect, but the chain looked cheap.

Brady asked, “What do you want me to do with this?”

“Put it on. It’s a prayer stone. When you’re feeling low, place it in the palm of your hand, then clasp your other hand on top. Put your hands to your chest, bow your head, and say a prayer.”

“I’m not a believer doc.”

“This isn’t about belief. It’s about clearing your mind and finding balance. Balance is the key to your path forward. What’s the harm?”

Brady clasped the gold chain around his neck and let it fall. The stone landed an inch from his breast forms. The metal grew warm as it touched his skin. It got even warmer when Brady cupped his hands around it.
“Like this?”

The doctor nodded. “Lay on the couch, and press your hands to your breast.”

Brady took a deep breath. These sessions with Doctor Ponder were different than he’d expected. He’d figured he’d receive lectures and condemnation, but the man had been nice and a little weird.

Brady lay back and pressed his clasped hands to his chest. “Is this right?”

Doctor Ponder said, “Bow your head so your chin touches your hands. Then clear your mind. The stone will do the rest.”

The instructions sounded silly, but Brady did want to sleep. He bowed his head and listened to the sounds of his body until he heard the beating of his heart.

‘Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk.’

His heart slowed as he held his hands still, and then he heard nothing. No sounds. No thoughts. The stresses of his life floated away, one by one, until one thing remained.

Brandi.

Chapter 4

“Wakey… wakey…”

Brady jumped, shouting when he heard the strange voice.

He turned when he heard a laugh, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The woman in the driver’s seat pointed at the road ahead. “We’re almost there.”

Brady recognized the highway right away. He recognized each street as they made their way through town. He knew every turn, but looked at the lady when she stopped at an unfamiliar house.
The woman said, “We’re here.” She got out of the car, then turned when she saw Brady wasn’t following. “Don’t forget your suitcase.”

Brady looked down to see the golden stone dangling from his neck. Instead of large breast forms and a pink blouse, he saw two small bumps pressing against a cotton t-shirt. His right shoulder held a purse.

Everything spun as he opened the car door. Brady stood on his second try, trying to keep his balance by leaning on the car.

He turned when he saw the pink suitcase in the back seat, noticing the long blonde hair. Brady took a step back when he saw his reflection in the car’s side window. A girl’s wail announced the onset of tears.

“Come now. There’s no need to cry.” Brady fell into the woman’s embrace. “This is a nice family. I’ve checked them myself.”

Brady wasn’t sure what to say. He lived in more foster homes than he cared to remember. Every time it started out hopeful. Every time they said this family would be different.

“They’re looking forward to meeting you. It’s rude to make them wait.”

Brady nodded his head as the woman pulled him up the sidewalk. The man at the door towered over them both when they entered. A woman with two other girls stood at military attention in the living room.

The man said, “Welcome. Welcome.”

The woman from the car held out a card. “My name is Myra Williams. We’ve spoken on the phone.”

The man nodded. “Of course. I met with your boss. How long is this going to take? I’m late for work.”

Myra said, “I need to do a quick inspection, review some things, and you’ll sign a few papers.”

The woman turned to the taller of the two girls. “Why don’t you show Brandi to her new room.”

The girl nodded her head. “Yes, ma’am.” Brady didn’t understand what was happening until someone tugged on his arm. “Your room is this way, Brandi.”

The girl didn’t look very old. She spoke in a quiet voice as they walked down the hall, “You get the smallest room. Chrissy and I were here first.”

Brady didn’t trust his voice but knew the girl expected a response, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Deidre.”

Brady held out his hand. The girl’s hand was as delicate as his own, “It’s nice to meet you, Deidre.”

The room was small, but cleaner than most. It smelled of fresh paint. The room didn’t have any posters on the walls, but someone made the bed.

“Mom let me pick out the bedspread. I hope you like it.”

“I love pink.” Brady said, despite himself.

“We bought a new bedside table and the dresser too.”

Brady said, “Nice.”

“The dresser is empty. We would have got clothes, but we didn’t know your sizes. Mom said we’ll go shopping this weekend.”

Brady tried to listen as Deidre gave details of their preparations. Too much information. Too fast. He needed time to think.

Deidre asked question after question and not receiving an answer, she turned to leave. “I should … give you time … to uhh … change or something.” She added, “Father tells me I talk too much.”
“You’re fine.” Brady pressed down on the bed. It had two fluffy pillows. The mattress was soft and not broken down. A long mirror sat on the other side of the room and in it, he saw a girl. He knew the image well.

“This is so weird.”

“Yeah.” Deidre said, backing out of the room, “First days are tough.” She’d started to shut the door when Brady spoke.

“I have a question.”

Deirdre opened the door with a smile on her face. “Yeah?”

“What’s today’s date?”

Deidre shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Brady shook his head in hopes of clearing the cobwebs. He had to be right. Nothing else made sense. He took a guess. “Are you going to the Fourth of July parade?”

Deidre nodded, “I’m marching with the other Junior Girls Scouts. Are you in the scouts too?”

Brady shook his head. “No.”

Deidre said, “Too bad. Me and Chrissy are in the scouts. It’s lots of fun. I bet Mom could get you in if you wanted and…”

Brady looked out the window. It looked around mid-morning. He heard Deidre’s voice trail off.

“… I should let you get dressed.”

Brady smiled. “Thanks for showing me around, sis.” Brady knew his foster sisters always liked it when he called them sis.

Deidre’s face brightened as she strode down the hall.

Brady emptied the contents of his purse.

On the bed lay a bottle of moisturizer, two pens, a set of headphones, a hairbrush, a couple tubes of lip gloss, one tube of mascara, a compact, some candy, a pack of chewing gum, a business card with Myra’s name on it, earrings, perfume, and a pair of sunglasses.

He stared long and hard at one item in particular. It was long and thin and enclosed in a plastic applicator. Brady stared at the tampon a long while before an itchy feeling made him to toss it into his purse. Nothing made sense.

It had been a long time since he’d remembered his dreams. The ones he did remember woke him in a cold sweat. Doctor Ponder told him dreams manifested from his subconscious mind. This didn’t feel like any dream he remembered.
A dreamer is a captive audience, like watching a movie in your mind. In this dream, Brady remembered sitting on Dr. Ponder’s couch. He remembered Stan. He remembered Brandi.

“You ok in there?” Myra’s voice echoed through the wall.

Brady answered, “Yeah.”

“I need to go.”

“I’m almost done.” Brady’s voice sounded weird and familiar at the same time.

He walked to the dresser, seeing a girl’s face in the mirror. The longer Brady watched, the bigger her smile grew. Without thinking, Brady pulled out a tube of lip gloss from his purse and applied a good slathering on his lips.

He placed a hand on his body to confirm. It had been years since he’d been this skinny. He doubted Brandi weighed more than ninety pounds. For the second time today, he stood in a child’s body, this time wearing the unmistakable curves of a girl.
Brady began to brush his hair. He brushed and brushed until the hair looked perfect.

The father said, “Vicki and I were about to send out a search party.”

The mother said, “Stop it, Bob. Young girls need to pretty themselves up. Right, Brandi?”

He’d learned their names. Vicki and Bob. Brady smiled and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He’d learned it best to be extra respectful when addressing new parents.

Myra smiled as well. “I’m all finished. Are you ok, Brandi?”

Brady nodded.

Myra said, “I’ll stop back later this week to see how things are going. You have my card.”

Everyone nodded and within a minute, Myra was gone. Brady knew the woman had at least two more appointments today.

Bob headed for the front door as soon as Myra’s car disappeared. He kissed his wife on the lips. “I need to work late to make up for this morning. Don’t save supper.” He took a quick look at Brady, once up and once down. “You and I will talk later to talk about house rules.”

Brady looked at the other two girls, neither of who looked him in the face.

Vicki looked excited. “How’d you like your new room?”

Brady said, “It’s nice. Thank you ma’am.”

His new mother smiled, “The girls and I thought you might like it.”

The squeal from Bob’s car tires told he had left.

“Have you had breakfast?”

Brady thought for a second and realized he didn’t know. “I’m not hungry.”

Deidre and Chrissy both shouted. “We’re hungry.”

Vicki nodded, “I can make extra in case you change your mind.”

Brady shook his head, “I was thinking of going for a walk.”

Vicki said, “I’ll go with you. I wouldn’t want you to get lost on your first day.”

“I know the area.” Brady said, “We passed a few kids on the way in. I was hoping to make some friends my age.”

Vicki nodded, “Oh. I thought…” She paused and made a decision. “No, it’s fine. Don’t wander too far.”

“I won’t.” Brady nodded, knowing the words a lie.

Chapter 5

It took Brady a couple of blocks to get his bearings. At one point, he’d known every street in this town, but it had been a while. As luck would have it, the park wasn’t far. He found Kayla under a tree near the swing sets.

“Heya.”

Kayla didn’t look up. She wore a plaid mini-skirt blouse combo with a pair of impractical looking boots. At the moment, Kayla’s entire concentration focused on applying a final coat of black nail polish. She didn’t speak until the job was complete.

She looked up. “Do I know you?”

“I moved here today. My name is … Brandi.” Brady didn’t know why he hesitated. He’d gone by Brandi on the street for the past year, but this time the word stuck in his throat.

Kayla asked, “How old are you?”

Brady smiled. “I’m in 7th grade … soon 8th grade.”

“Me too.” Kayla exclaimed. “I’m waiting for some friends. You can sit here if you want.”

“Thanks.” Brady sat on the ground cross-legged, an impossible feat before this moment.

Kayla asked, “Do you want me to do your nails?”

Brady looked at his nails. Brandi also had a bad habit of biting her nails.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay with black?”

Brady shrugged. “Sure.”

Kayla got right to work and her face took on a curious intensity. She sounded nicer than Brady remembered, but in truth he’d never known Kayla. She was a member of the Bees, and no one in the Bees ever stooped low enough to talk to someone like him.

Kayla smiled as she finished his right hand.

“Do you like?”

Brady looked, “Oh yes.” He did like it.

“My sister runs a beauty shop. She said I could help her next summer if I keep practicing.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It is fun.” Kayla’s face regained its concentration as she started working on Brady’s other hand. His stubby nails needed a little dab and a slight brush on top of each one. The process took less than two minutes to finish.

Kayla instructed, “Hold your hands up and blow on them. Like this…”

Kayla blew along the tips of Brady’s fingers, an act most boys in their school would line up to receive. Brady continued to blow on his fingertips until the two more girls arrived.

“Who’s this bitch?”

Brady didn’t need to turn to know who’d arrived. Everyone in school knew the Queen Bee.

“This is Brandi.” Kayla pointed at him with a manicured nail. “Brandi, this is Jessica.”

Brady waved, “Heya, Jessica.”

“Hmmm…” Jessica inspected Brady with the intensity of a drill sergeant.

Kayla said, “The girl standing next to Jessica is Erin.”

Brady waved again, “Heya, Erin.”

Erin waved back, but she didn’t speak.

Kayla said, “Stan and his friends are over at the baseball field.”

Jessica nodded, “Could be fun…”

Brady started to stand, but Jessica shook her head, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Kayla said, “Don’t be mean, Jessica. Brandi’s nice. She’s in our grade.”

Jessica turned with a practiced air of dismissal. “Whatever. If she’s a problem, it’s on you.”

Jessica’s high-pitched voice caught the boys off guard. “What-cha doing?”

The whole group turned at once, their mouths agape.

Stan said, “Heya, Jessica.”

“Heya, Stan.”

The smile on Jessica’s face spoke volumes. Brady smiled when Stan’s focus returned to his lunch.

Everyone looked so young. Some were cuter than he remembered, but Stan stood over the rest. All Brady could do was stare in silence at a sight which both confused and thrilled him.

Stan took a few bites of his sandwich before asking, “Who’s your new friend?”

Brady wanted to hide. Everyone in school knew Kayla Abrams and Erin Taylor. They’d been a part of Jessica’s pack long before he’d arrived in town. He was a nobody.

Kayla said, “This is Brandi. She moved here today. She’s in our grade.”

Stan shouted. “Nice to meet you Brandi.”

Brady tried to wave back, but the moment his friends focused their attention on him, he found it hard to move his hand.

Jessica said, “We’re going over to the woods if you want to join, Stan.”

Stan shook his head. “Nah. We’re hoping some others stop by, so we can get a game going.”

Jessica spoke while applying another layer of gloss to her lips. “Hmmm… If we have time, we’ll stop back to watch you boys play.”

Stan gave a half a laugh and stopped himself, speaking with a flustered grin, “Sure. Sounds nice.”

Jessica strode off without a word, confident the others would follow in her wake. All the boys stared as they went. Brady knew it included Stan.

A single voice broke the silence. “Stan and Jessica sitting in a tree … K-I-S-S-I-N-G… First comes love…”

Brady heard Dominic’s voice. “Don’t be a jerk, Petey.”

Brady smiled, and turned around, his eyes drifting towards the quiet boy heading to left field. The boy stared back.

Everyone knew about the woods by JFK Park. Most of the area was a flood zone, which made it impractical for housing. With few other options, the city paved a few paths along the stream and called it a park. It didn’t take long for the thick woods to grow in the middle of town. The woods became a favorite meeting place for stoners and those looking for a late night hook-up.

Jessica spoke out loud, talking to no one in particular. “Brandi can’t go with us to the meeting spot.”

Kayla said, “Why not?”

“She looks like a little girl in those jeans and t-shirt. The Bees have a rep to maintain.”

Kayla said, “Don’t be mean, Jessica. I did her nails. Show her Brandi.”

Brady raised his hands to show up his stubby nails, each of them now painted dark black. He noticed the other girls also had their nails painted the same color.

Erin said, “We could do her makeup. Brandi’s got amazing bone structure.”

Jessica turned on Erin, “Did I ask for your opinion?”

Erin shrugged, “Not many Bees showed up today. We could use reinforcements.”

Jessica turned, annoyed. “Whatever.”

Kayla clapped. “There’s a bench up here. We can fix your face.”

Brady stifled a laugh. ‘Fix my face?’ He’d been doing his own makeup longer since before these girls were born.

“Sit there. This spot has the best sunlight.”

Brady nodded. “OK.” He waited as the other three girls caked makeup on their faces. It wasn’t something you’d ever see in a salon, but the dark lines made them all look years older.

Erin and Kayla smiled. “Now it’s your turn.”

Kayla and Erin worked on Brady’s face as he watched Jessica walk to the river’s edge and light a cigarette. Each tiny inhale made her look a little more sick.

Jessica said, “Don’t tell me. The little girl doesn’t like smoking.”

Brady shrugged, “I’ve smoked before.” He’d been trying to quit for years.

Jessica said, “Why do you keep staring?”

Brady said, “You’re turning green.”

Kayla started to laugh but caught herself. Erin wasn’t as lucky.

“Screw you.” Jessica took another quick drag, then blew it out fast. “Are you almost done?”

“Almost.” Erin used a finger to spread out some of the eye shadow. “Now I’m done.”

Kayla said, “Me too.” She held up a mirror to Brady’s face.

Brady found it hard to speak. The face. The eyes. He’d seen them before. In his dreams and on the street. The makeup made Brandi look older, much older. Most bouncers wouldn’t bat an eye passing this girl into a bar. Brady remembered something darker. The girl in his dreams had a vacancy in her eyes.

Kayla looked concerned. “Are you ok?”

Jessica said, “I told you she’s a baby. She’s not Bees material.”

Erin pulled a cigarette from her purse.

“I’m not a baby.” Brady said, “Give it to me.”

Kayla said, “You don’t seem the type, Brandi. You don’t have to listen to Jessica. She likes to haze new girls.”

Jessica called out, “Give it to her, Erin. Your lighter too. I want to see this.”

Erin handed Brady a cigarette and her lighter. Both seemed natural in his hand. Erin smoked 100s, the thin cigarette finding a natural spot between Brady’s lips. The lighter did its thing, followed by a slight burning sensation and a sudden need to throw up.

“Khoff khak khak… hakk ack ack!” An eruption of smoke burst from Brady’s mouth as soon as it entered.

“Ha … ha … ha … ha …” Jessica was laughing so hard it looked like she might fall over.

Kayla wasn’t laughing.

Erin shook her head, “Don’t inhale so much.”

Brady tossed the burning cigarette on the ground.

Erin shouted, “Don’t toss it on the ground. You’ll start a fire.” She picked up the discarded cigarette and took a quick puff. Erin held it out, “Want it back?”

Brady shook his head. Looking at the cigarette made him want to barf.

Jessica said, “I told you she’s a baby.” She took a tiny inhale and blew it out.

Kayla said, “Let’s get going. I’m sure the high-school boys are there.”

The path meandered for a quarter mile before turning into an unmarked section. The unmarked path weaved around the forest’s low spots until coming to a small clearing. A couple of kids sat on the logs in the middle. Others stood around the edges. No one noticed their arrival.
Jessica strode through the muck to a spot where a group of older boys stood.

“Hey Billy.”

Billy had scruffy hair and the beginnings of a mustache on his upper lip. In his right hand, he held a smoldering item he’d rolled himself. He turned when he saw Jessica and the other ‘Bees’.

Erin whispered in Brady’s ear. “Billy is my brother. Jessica has had a thing for him since we were in 3rd grade.”

Brady watched the lanky boy make his way across the clearing. “Hey sis.” He looked at Erin, then pointed at her cigarette. “What the hell?”

Erin smiled and pointed at his joint. “I won’t tell Mom if you don’t.”

Billy frowned, the redness in both eyes telling they’d been here for a while.

Jessica stood beside them, holding her cigarette in a way she’d seen starlets do in old movies. She asked, “What-cha guys doing?”

Billy said, “We’re about to head out. I got the munchies something awful, and a buddy of mine has a cupboard full of snacks and FIFA on the Xbox.”

Jessica said, “Sounds like fun. Can we come?”

“Not enough room.” Billy stopped when he saw Brady. “Who’s your new friend?”

Erin said, “This is Brandi. She moved here today.”

Billy held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Brandi.”

Brady took Billy’s hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Billy.”

Billy’s stare made him feel uncomfortable. “At least one of you ditzy girls has enough sense to wear jeans and tennis shoes before deciding to walk in a swamp.”

Brady wanted to gloat, but he saw Jessica’s face turn dark. A guy with a deep voice called Billy from the other side of the clearing.

Billy started walking backwards. “I gotta go.” He looked at his sister who was still holding the cigarette. “Make sure you wipe the black shit off your face before you get home or Mom will kill you. And stop smoking. I’m serious.”

Erin smiled.

Billy shook his head. He looked like he was about to say something else but another voice called, and ran towards his friends.

Chapter 6

Jessica stormed off. Kayla ran to join her.

Brady asked, “Is Jessica is mad at me?”

“She’s mad at everyone.” Erin said, “Her Dad lost his job a few weeks ago. Things at her house aren’t great.”

“Should I apologize?” He’d spoken to Jessica more aggressive than teenage Brady would have ever dared. The further you get from high school drama, the more you realize the stupidity.

“No… you couldn’t know.” Erin added, “Don’t tell her I told you about her Dad. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” Brady raised his hand.

“Thanks.” Erin took a deep breath. “Jessica’s pissed off most of the other Bees. That’s why no one else showed.”

“Oh, wow.” Brady said, “I feel bad for her now.”

“Don’t be. She needs a little humbling. As for the Bees, we’ve lasted a lot longer than I expected.” Erin said, “Wanna guess how we got our name?”

“I have no idea.” Brady shook his head. He remembered something, but it was vague.

“Boobies … boo … bees. Bees.”

Brady laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m serious. You know how guys teased us when our chests started growing?”

Brady looked down, “I uhhh…”

“Nevermind.” Erin said laughing, “You’re a late bloomer.”

“Hey!” Brady gave Erin a look.

“Trust me. You’re luckier than you realize.” Erin used her hands to prop herself up. “I was the first girl in the school to get them. They were almost this big in fifth grade.”

“Wow.” Brady remembered it well. Erin was the main topic of boy’s conversations for most the year. It didn’t seem possible to talk to her like a normal person.

“Jess was a great friend.” Erin said, “Boys said awful things, so she formed the Bees to support me. I had no idea it would get so big.”

“Are we talking about your boobs?” Brady felt dirty as the words left his mouth.

“No silly. The Bees.” Erin gave Brady a mean look, but her eyes smiled. “Before I knew what was happening, Jessica started calling herself the Queen Bee. Members had to pass her standard of style and looks to get into the club. The funniest part is Jess was flat as a pancake until about six months ago, but now, she’s almost as big as me. It’s made her go boy crazy. She wouldn’t have dared to throw herself at my brother last year.”

“Yeah.” Brady nodded. “A lot has happened in the last year.”

Erin said, “I’m starting to think Jessica is friends with me because of my brother.”

“Nah.” Brady said, “You said it yourself. You’ve been friends for a long time. She formed the Bees because of you.”

“I guess. Jess has a good heart, but sometimes it’s hard to find. I think she’s worried about the new school.” Erin smashed her cigarette under a heel. “I’ve tried to explain the Bees won’t work in junior high. The Bees were a kid thing.”

Brady nodded, “I wish I were still a kid.” The words were truer than ever.

Erin shook her head. “We don’t look like kids anymore. Kayla’s sister said she started sneaking into bars when she was in 8th grade. All we need is the right makeover and a pretty dress. You’d need to stuff your bra.”

Brady said, “Hey!”

“I’m teasing.” Erin smiled as she lit a new cigarette, then coughed as she blew out the smoke.

“Your brother is right.” Brady said, “You shouldn’t smoke. It’s a nasty habit and hard to quit.”

“My Mom and Dad say the same thing.” Erin laughed, “We stole these from a girl at the salon.”

Brady laughed. “Let me guess. Jessica did it to impress your brother.”

“Is it obvious?” Erin laughed, “We’ve talked about trying it all summer.”

“Why start?”

Erin shrugged. “My Mom smokes. My Dad smokes. My Brother and sister both smoke. I figure it’s inevitable.”

“Nothing is inevitable.” Brady tried his best to sound convincing.

Erin took another slight drag followed by another cough, “If you say so.”

The four girls emerged from the woods at the same time. The older boys noticed first and shouted, “Come sit with us!”

The other girls didn’t notice the sound of the bat hitting the ball. Brady watched it arc towards the gap, the left fielder got a good jump and made a diving catch in the webbing of his glove.
Jessica asked, “Where does Stanley sit?”

Brady whispered, “The bench beside third base.”

Jessica turned. “Which one is that?”

Kayla said, “The bench where the eighth graders aren’t sitting .,, duh.”

Jessica gave Kayla a look. “Heya Stanley.” Her words made her intentions clear. Brady watched Petey fight his impulse to respond. None of the boys bothered to hide their stares. The intensity of their looks made Brady want to run and hide.

An 8th grader called out. “Come over here and sit with the real men.”

Jessica smiled at the boy then smiled at Stan, “What do you think Stanley? Should we go over there? Or do you want us to sit with you?”

Stan wasn’t in the mood for games. “You can sit where ever you want, Jessica.”

Jessica frowned, she stood silent for a moment, and without a word motioned the others to follow. She’d made it halfway before noticing Brady hadn’t moved.

“Brandi?”

Brady knew Jessica expected him to follow. He looked at Kayla and then to Erin. They smiled back and Brady gave them a slight grin. “I’m good here.”

Jessica turned on muddied block heels to join the older boys. Brady noticed his friends turn to stare all at once. The left fielder was the last to arrive.

“Great catch, Brady.”

The boy’s face grew pink seeing the looks from the other boys. “Thanks.”

Stan called from the on-deck circle. “Brady?”

Two people turned. Brady held his tongue. The left fielder said, “Yeah?”

“It’s your turn to bat.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

The other boys laughed as the left fielder’s face turned from pink to red.

It’s a weird feeling to see yourself from the outside. Everybody wonders how other people see them.

Brady watched the left fielder dig into the batter’s box. He’d always considered himself small and weak compared to everyone else. From an early age, he worried what others would think if they knew his inner thoughts. He feared being called a sissy, a name he’d gain in spite of his best efforts. Looking from the perch of the bleachers gave Brady a nice view of all the boys. His doppelganger looked like any of them.

All his closest childhood friends watched too. He missed them, even Petey. They’d never believe the truth, so Brady sat back and enjoyed the view.

Stan pitched an amazing game. The 8th graders struggled to hit his curve. Petey made a nice force out at second. Skip caught a liner at short. Dominic made a diving catch in the outfield, saving a run. The left fielder made a nice throw.

The opposing pitcher mocked Dominic. “Last chance, losers. Bottom of the 6th. We’re up 6-3.

Dominic shouted back, “Shut up.”

The older boy shouted back. “Gonna make me, faggot?”

Brady smiled at the 8th grader’s comment. He’d once feared the word, but people had called him worse. It lost power a long time ago.
Brady tried to sound confident, “You guys have this. Their pitcher is tiring.”

Petey turned around, his eyes fiery with anger, “What do girls know about baseball?”

Brady forgot how mean Petey got when angry. He held his breath for a moment before responding. “This guy has two pitches, a fastball and a slider, and his slider is starting to hang.”

Brady saw Stan give him a look and then look away. “Wait for the right pitch, Dom.” Dom struck out swinging at a pitch low and away.

Skip legged out a single and Marcus got another, hitting a liner between first and second base. Petey hit a grounder to shortstop scoring a run, and outsprinting a double play to prevent the third out. Jordy walked, putting runners on first and second base, bringing up Brady to bat.

Brady wanted to say something. So much pain originated in the next five minutes.

Memories of the girl on the bleachers haunted him for most of his life. His dreams returned to her often, and somehow, he’d entered her skin. This couldn’t be real. Thoughts of Dr. Ponder’s couch’s flashed in his mind. The man put him in deep hypnosis.

A sense of time and place passed between them, as the boy looked back. The girl called to her past self, hoping to comfort him, knowing the courage he’d need to face his future. The years ahead would not be kind.

Thoughts mixed in Brady’s head. Thoughts of today. Thoughts of the past. Thoughts of the future. Where did one person begin and the other end? Brady pushed and pulled as he fought for control. The girl on the bleachers bowed her head and slowed her breathing. Her heart rate slowed until it registered barely above a whisper.

A thousand possibilities bounced in Brandi’s head. She could change the outcome. A single word could stop this. She saw Brady’s future without accident, but the pain remained. Rejection by family. Mockery by friends. He’d end up on the street, same as before.

She grasped at the prayer stone hanging from her neck. Her words weren’t complex, but they didn’t need to be.

‘I am Brandi’
‘I am Brandi’
‘I am Brandi’
‘I am Brandi’

She repeated the words a million times, or perhaps it was once. Time stood still until silence remained, and the flow of energy righted itself.

Brandi said, “You’ve got this, Brady.”

The pitcher called out. ““Are you going to gawk all day?”

Brady shook his head. The first pitch was a fastball, low and outside. “Strike one.”

Bad call.

The second pitch to Brady was high and tight. “Ball one.”

The 8th graders didn’t look much different in Brandi’s eyes than her friends. In her dreams, she feared boys like these.

The next pitch was in the dirt. “Ball two.”

Brandi looked at the other bench. Jessica was talking to Erin. None of the other girls were paying attention to the game. Brandi saw Brady look at her and then back to the pitcher. Brady tried to get set as the pitch came right down the middle.

“Strike two.”

Brandi cursed herself for getting distracted. Brady needed her focus. The next pitch was outside.

“Ball three.”

The count was full. Three balls and two strikes.

The boy looked at her. Stan was up next. No way the pitcher wanted to face Stan with the bases loaded, no matter the bravado coming out of his mouth. The guy threw three fastballs in a row. The girl gave him a slight nod. She knew the next pitch would be a hanging slider. She’d seen it before.

Brandi gave Brady a nod. She was not afraid.

*** Crrrrraaack ***

She stood on the bench and cheered when Brady slid into second. She stopped when he stood, and held her breath. She’d replayed this moment a thousand times but never from this angle.

Brandi wasn’t sure when her feelings for Stan grew to be more than those of a simple friend. It happened long before today. Of course, Brady didn’t know this. He wouldn’t realize it for a long time.

Stan looked all business as he dug in at the plate. He’d been the same since they’d met. You could count on Stan. Brady took a two-step lead off second base. Part of her wanted to warn him, but there are some things in life you cannot change.

The pitcher took a deep breath before going into his wind up. He threw another slider. Stan smashed it between first and second into right field.

Brandi ran at the sound of the bat. She reached the dugout fence as Brady sprinted towards home plate. She closed her eyes, waiting for the scream which tore into her soul.

Most onlookers fled when they saw the blood. The catcher fell back at the sight of the compound fracture. Brandi ran to Brady’s prone body and tried to hold him still. Stan’s looked ashen when he approached, “Petey ran to get an ambulance.”

Brandi couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. Brady woke for a moment and tried to move, then passed out from the pain. When he woke again, Brandi kissed his forehead,

“Don’t move Brady. You’ve got to trust me. Everything is going to be okay.”

Chapter 7

The city’s firehouse wasn’t far. Petey ran there on a dead sprint. The ambulance got to Brady in under five minutes. Few bystanders remained when the ambulance left.

A voice called from the 8th grade bench, “You look like shit.”

Brandi turned, unleashing the wrath filling her soul, “I don’t give a fuck what you think, Jessica.”

Laughter echoed around her. Jessica turned red, turned a dirty heel, and made her way to a group of 8th graders. Kayla and Erin stayed.

Kayla said, “You told her off.”

Brandi shook her head, “I ended chances of becoming a Bee.”

“Do you care?” Erin said.

Brandi shook her head. “Not at the moment.”

Kayla said, “Don’t worry about Jessica. She’s nicer than she lets on.”

“Yeah?” Brandi looked at Erin.”

Erin offered a tissue. “Jess was right about one thing. You do look like shit.”

Brandi said, “Screw you too, Erin.”

Erin held up her hands in surrender, “I’m trying to help. Don’t you want to become a Bee?”

Brandi shrugged, wiping the tears from her face, “I thought you said the Bees are disbanding.”

Erin said, “The summer isn’t over. We’re having a last hurrah.”

Brandi followed Erin’s stare, covering herself when she realized the other girl’s eyes staring at her chest. The never-ending ache told of something happen under the skin. “You’re both nuts. I need to get going.”

Kayla said, “We’ll talk to Jessica. We’ll get you in.”

Brandi smiled, “I hope so, Kayla.”

Erin gave a look, “You going home or planning to piss Jessica off more?” Erin’s smile told she knew the truth.

Brandi shrugged.

Kayla said, “We won’t tell. It’s nice having someone around who isn’t afraid of her.”

Erin asked, “Are you going to be here tomorrow?”

Brandi said, “I doubt it. If I’m lucky, I’ll get grounded for a month.”

“Me too. I know my brother is going to tell my Mom.” Erin said, “But we’ll see each other soon. This town isn’t big.”

Brandi said, “It’s big enough for me.”

Erin held out her arms catching Brandi in a hug. “I had fun today.”

Brandi said, “Me too.”

“What about me?” Kayla barged into the circle as the three joined arms. Brandi noticed the 8th graders shaking their heads at the silly girls.

Brandi walked down the street, each crossroad returning memories after a twenty-year absence. Every step took her further away from her new home. She thought about Doctor Ponder’s couch. She thought back over a day she experienced first as a boy and now as a girl.

“Are you ok?” A woman behind the counter gave her a curious look.

“Uhh…” Brandi didn’t remember walking into the hospital. “I’m here to see Brady Calders.”

The woman checked a screen. “Are you family?”

Brandi thought for a second before shaking her head. It would be too hard to explain.

A voice called from behind. “She’s with us.”

Brandi knew the voice before she turned. “Heya, Stan.”

“Brandi, right?”

Brandi nodded. She heard snickering from the other boys in the lobby.

“It was nice of you to come. The doctor says Brady’s doing great.”

Brandi did her best to look hopeful, but she knew the truth. There would be one surgery tonight and another next week. Brady would be in a cast for two months, and need therapy for months after.

“Do you want to sit with us?”

“I … uhhh…”

Stan grinned, “My friends don’t bite. You might convince Petey to take back his comment about girls and baseball. You were right about the slider.”

Brandi saw the combination of bloodstains and dirt on her t-shirt. “I need to clean up.”

Stan shrugged, “Well … we’ll be over there if you change your mind.”

“Yikes.”

Jessica was right. She did look like shit. Bits of Erin and Kayla’s makeup covered her face. Some streaked down both cheeks and the rest stained her shirt.
Soap and hot water removed most of the mess on her face, though mascara still dotted her eyes. She checked the stalls before taking off her shirt, and tossing it in the sink. Dabbing the shirt with soap and cold water had no effect, so she filled the faucet. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done her laundry in a public bathroom.

Quiet settled in as the garment soaked. Thoughts of the past invaded as the girl stared back from the mirror. This person haunted Brady for most of his life. They’d shared dreams and nightmares. It seemed so real …

The bathroom door opened before Brandi had a chance to hide.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect…”

Brandi covered herself as best she could, with both hands over her a bra. It took her a second to recognize the woman’s face. “Mrs. Miller?”

Mrs Miller , “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.” Brandi grabbed the purse from the sink hoping to better cover herself. “I was trying to clean my shirt. I got blood on it.” It had been years since she’d seen Stan’s Mom.

“I see…” The woman shook her head. “My son getting grass stains on his pants. I’m an expert at stains” Mrs. Miller pulled the white shirt out of the basin and held it up in the air. “You can’t wear this.”

“I can’t?”

“It’s possible to save.” The lady wrung out the t-shirt and set it on the counter to dry. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for a young woman to parade around the hospital lobby in a wet t-shirt, especially a white t-shirt.”

“Oh.” Brandi nodded, “Good point.”

Mrs. Miller thought for a moment. “Give me five minutes.”

Brandi watched Mrs. Miller walk out the door. It had been decades since she’d seen her at Brady’s going away party. Brandi remembered her looking older.

The girl in the mirror looked young, younger now without makeup. A small cotton bra covered her chest. A combination of mud, blood, and makeup dotted the white fabric though she dared not take it off.
Pressure pushed against her midsection. She’d ignored it most of the day, but the woods weren’t an option. To a child, one huge difference stood between a girl and a boy. Boys could pee outside. Girls couldn’t.

Brandi ran to a stall.

She’d spent most of her life dreaming of living in a girl’s body. As the pressure flowed out of her, Brandi realized the feeling wasn’t so different as the feeling as a boy. In fact, the whole day wasn’t so different. What changed was how others treated her. She’d always been Brandi. She leaned forward, and grabbed the prayer stone, wishing she might never wake up.

An explosion of light filled the room.

The light wasn’t so bright Brandi couldn’t look at it, nor so warm she couldn’t hold it. She covered the stone in both hands and drew it to her breast, allowing its warmth to push at her insides. A man’s voice sounded in her head:

In our first meeting, you said -- ‘I’ve always known I was different from everyone else’. I knew this to be true long before we met. The universe is not perfect. It made a mistake at your birth, placing you in the wrong body. This mistake has had ramifications far beyond your ability to comprehend, but I was tasked to fix it.

It is impossible for those who live inside time to understand the workings of those who live on the outside. I began working on your problem long before you were born, but every such job is fraught with paradox. It is not enough to understand a problem. Any decision I make, taints the results, so I must watch a life play out to allow for free will.

I am confident you and I came up with the best solution. Brandi did not exist until this day, but for you, she has always existed. She is the female version of Brady. His journey ended in my office, transported through space and time to a happier place.

Your memories of Brady’s childhood will naturally shift to Brandi’s perspective as she grows older. I’m giving you the rest of the day for your memories of me and of Brady’s future to disappear. The universe owes you that much. I suggest you use this time wisely.

Doctor Ponder

Loud pounding woke Brandi from her stupor. “Are you OK in there?”

Brandi opened her hands to see the prayer stone. The light had disappeared. The stone seemed lighter. “No.” Tears streamed from her eyes. She grabbed a wad of tissue paper.

“Do you need privacy?”

“No.” Brandi wiped at her eyes and blew her nose, “I’m OK.” She tried to laugh, but no sound came out. “I’ve had a weird day.”

Mrs. Miller said, “I’m sure. Stanley said you moved to town today.”

Brandi said, “Yeah.”

Brandi pulled up her jeans and fastened them tight. As she bent over, she noticed flecks of mud on her jeans from her trip to the swamp with the Bees.

Brandi asked, “Did you find a shirt I can wear?”

“The gift shop didn’t have a lot of choices.” Mrs. Miller tossed the t-shirt so it draped over the edge of the bathroom door.

It wasn’t a shirt Brady could wear. This one was pink, with a v-neck, and tapered on each side. Across the front said the words ‘I ♥ St. Louis Baseball’ in red and white letters.

Mrs. Miller asked, “How does it fit?”

Brandi pulled it over her shoulders and down to her waist. The shirt showed a bit of midriff and pressed on her bra, showing the lines. She opened the door. “It’s good.”

Mrs. Miller didn’t look happy. “I wish they had some mediums left. They had Small and 2X. I didn’t think you wanted to wear a dress.”

Brandi said, “I like this one.”

“No, it’s too small. I’ll go find something else.”

“I want to wear it.” Brandi said while looking at herself in the mirror. She’d worn tighter outfits. “It’s perfect.”

Mrs. Miller grinned. “Let me guess, trying to impress a boy?”

Brandi’s face flushed as she spoke in a whisper. “No.”

Mrs. Miller said, “Be careful. Some of my son’s friends are a handful.”

“I met Petey.”

“Yeah.” Mrs. Miller laughed. “Stay away from him.”

Brandi nodded her head. Everything had changed. “I’m not interested in Petey.”

Mrs. Miller gave her a sly grin, “My son asked me to check on you. He picked out your t-shirt.”

Brandi blushed, “He did?” The words came out more excited than she hoped.

Mrs. Miller gave a knowing smile as she pulled a pack of tissues from her purse. “Every girl needs a good cry every once in a while. The best part of doing it in a bathroom is there’s a handy sink and a mirror.” She dabbed the tissue with water and began to blot away the tear lines on Brandi’s face. “Would you like it if I showed you some makeup tricks I used when I was your age?”

So much had happened today, and little of it seemed possible. As the world continued to spin, Brandi found herself falling in Mrs. Miller’s arms as her tears began again.

“There … there.” Mrs. Miller said as she pulled Brandi close. “Everything is going to be OK.”

Chapter 8

Brandi stuck her head out of the bathroom. She heard her friend’s voices long before she saw their faces. They got silent as soon as she entered the room. Every one of them stared.

Words came out difficult. “How’s he … uhh … doing?”

Dominic asked, “Brady?”

Petey said, “Of course she means Brady, you dunce.”

Stan said, “Last we heard, he’s still in surgery.”

Mrs. Miller winked at Brandi, “He’ll be fine, boys. This is a good hospital. I’m sure the doctors are taking good care of him.” She looked around the room. “How many of you have called your parents and let them know you’re here?”

No one raised their hand.

Mrs. Miller asked, “Don’t you think you should?”

All the boys nodded their heads.

Mrs. Miller said, “Take turns using my phone. Let me know if you need me to speak with them.”

A look showed the boys spread out over half the hospital’s lobby. They’d piled bats, gloves, and balls high on the seats. Someone tuned the television to Major League Baseball.

As the boys argued over who’d get to use the phone first, Mrs. Miller handed her son a stack of twenty dollar bills.

“We need to get this group fed. There’s a Firehouse Burgers up the street. Can you pick up a dozen Cowboy Burgers and a couple bags of fries while I manage these guys?”

“Yeah … sure Mom.” Stan pocketed the money and started for the door.

When he’d got halfway, Mrs. Miller whispered in a low voice. “This might be a good chance to talk to Stan … if you’re interested.”

“Yeah?” Brandi blushed. “Are you sure?”

Mrs. Miller’s eyes sparkled as she spoke. “I’ve got a good feeling about you, Brandi.”

Brandi didn’t stop to think. She ran across the room through a horde of her other friends, catching Stan as he opened the door.

“Hey Stan?”

“Yeah?”

Words caught in Brandi’s throat as she tried to speak. “Your Mom … well … she thought … you might … need some help.”

“OK.” Stan’s face turned pink as he spoke.

Brandi turned and smiled at Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller grinned as she waved them out the door. Day had turned to night as the two teenagers exited the building. Brandi heard the other boys laughing as the door closed.

Stan asked, “Did you call your parents?”

Brandi shook her head.

“Will you get in trouble?”

Brandi said, “I’m already in trouble.”

Stan said, “Shouldn’t you go home?”

Brandi said, “I want to stay here.” She looked up toward Brady’s room.

Stan said, “I appreciate you coming here. Brady’s a great guy. He’s my best friend in the whole world.”

The words sent a chill down Brandi’s spine. Stan would visit Brady every day for weeks, every time with Brandi by his side. It wouldn’t take long for those visits to lessen. After Brady moved, they’d trade an occasional email. In a few years, Brady would stop responding to Stan altogether.
Brandi said, “Thanks for the shirt. I like it.”

Stan said, “You said you liked baseball.”

Brandi said, “I do. Ask me anything about baseball and I bet I can answer it.”

“You think so?” Stan smiled, “Who was the shortstop on the 1982 Cardinals?”

Brandi scoffed, “Too easy.”

Stan smirked, “Do you know or are you stalling?”

Brandi said, “Ozzie Smith. The best shortstop of all time. Give me a hard one next time.”

Stan laughed, “You’re cocky like Brady.”

Brandi’s heart skipped a beat, “I am?”

Stan looked back at the hospital.

Brandi said, “Your friend is going to be OK. It’s going to take some time, but he’s going to be fine.”

Stan said, “You think so?”

“Yeah.” Brandi nodded, “I’m sure of it.”

Stan said, “He’s tougher than most people think.”

“Yeah. I agree.”

Neither of them spoke as they walked towards the restaurant. Right before they entered, Brandi broke the silence. “Who was the ace on the 1934 Cardinals?”

Stan said, “Come on. Everyone knows Dizzy Dean. You gotta do better if you want to win a prize.”

Stan gave Brandi a playful tap on the arm. Brandi grabbed Stan’s hand, giving her friend a playful squeeze. “What’s the prize?”

The longtime friends didn’t speak as Brandi watched Stan’s face grow red. She’d never known Stan the Man to lose his composure. It was nice to see him off his game for once.

Brandi decided to push her luck, “Ready to go inside, Stanley?”

Stan didn’t look mad, and didn’t say a word as he looked back at the hospital. A couple of their friends stood outside, staring at them both.

Stan said, “Let’s go.”

The whole gang would tease them without mercy when they returned. She also knew there would be hell to pay when she finally went home, but she didn’t care. Every person gets a limited number of perfect days in their life. Brandi wasn’t about to let this one end early.

A waiter called out, “Order #32.”

Brandi poked Stan in the ribs like Brady used to do. “We’re up.” She tried to pull away but stopped when Stan pulled on her hand.

“Stan?”

She turned to see Stan staring at her. Brandi gave him a shy smile in return. The pair walked hand-in-hand to get their food.

Tonight had the makings of a perfect night. She hoped the first of many, but she knew better than most life doesn't come with a guarantee. It mattered little. For the first time in a long time, Brandi found herself excited. She couldn't wait to see where her future led.