By Maggie the Kitten
She hopes for a miracle. Will she get one and will it be the one she was hoping for?
Denise was towel drying her hair and watching the Weather Channel when her cell phone rang.
She glanced at the living room clock. “What the? … who would be calling me at 6:30 in the morning?”
She grabbed her pocket book from the end table and dug out her cell. She shook her head as the number on the display was not a familiar one. She was tempted to not answer and simply let it go to voice mail, but with being the day shift manager at work and having two daughters currently away from home, that wasn’t an option. Hoping it was just an early bird telemarketer, she flipped open her cell.
“This is Denise.”
“Denise Lampe?” A very serious sounding woman’s voice answered hers.
“Yes it is. May I help you?”
“Ms. Lampe, my name is Amanda Carrington and I’m calling from Mother of Mercy hospital.”
Denise’s heart sunk. This lady was not one of those cheery fundraisers looking to hit her up for donations to a new wing or a kidney machine. This was the dreaded, ’Are you the mother or guardian of (fill in your child’s name) and there’s been an accident,’ call.
In just a few seconds, a thousand scenarios ran through Denise’s head and every one ended with one of her daughters getting an ambulance ride. She was about to break out the mental cat of nine tails to chastise herself for being the world’s most neglectful mother when Amanda brought her back to reality.
“Ma’am I’m calling in regards to a Miss Kaitlyn Collins.”
“Ka … Ka … Katie?”
For a moment, there was a sigh of relief. Her girls were safe, but it was a short-lived one, as her attention and her concerns went to a dear friend, a co-worker, and an honorary daughter of the house.
“What’s happened to Katie? Is she alright?”
The voice softened a little and added a hint of compassion. “There’s been an automobile accident and she was brought to Mother of Mercy. She’s currently in Casualty. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any further information to give you.”
Denise felt a sickness in the pit of her stomach. It was concern, fear and a good dose of anger. Two words immediately came to mind, “Lady Jane”. Lady Jane was the name of Katie’s bicycle that she rode back and forth to work.
Driving was just one of Katie’s many phobias, so she cycled everywhere, and in all kinds of weather. This morning’s forecast included freezing rain and fog. It would be hard enough to see and brake for another motorist, let alone a cyclist darting in and out of traffic. She’d bought Katie a white hat and gloves to keep her warm and to give her a little more visibility on those early morning and late night rides of hers. How many times had she been on her to wear a reflective harness? How many times had she told her to be careful out there?
Denise shook her head. Katie was older than she was, but she listened about as well as her daughters did. A sad smile turned at the woman’s mouth. Being mentioned in the same sentence as one of her daughters, even in such a derogatory way, would have put Katie right over the moon. Denise’s eyes misted as she wondered how badly her friend was hurt, and if she was already in a place far beyond the moon.
“Ms. Lampe we contacted Miss Collins’s employer and your name and number were given as one of her emergency contacts. May I ask if you are a relative?”
“What?” Denise tried to focus her attention and control her fears. “Umm … no, I’m not a relative. I’m just a friend. I’m kind of … well … I’m sort of one of her bosses, but not her immediate one.”
“I understand, ma’am. We did try to contact a Norman Burke first. We were told he was listed as a half brother, but that information appears to be incorrect. No one at that number apparently knows Miss Collins, so we are calling you as the secondary contact. ”
The anger in Denise’s stomach threatened to erupt. She knew that the information about Norman Burke being Katie’s half brother was correct. During their many long conversations after everyone else had gone home for the day, Katie had mentioned her brother several times. Katie said she hadn’t spoken to her brother since the day she had informed him that she was changing her name to Katie, and living as a woman.
Katie was a transsexual, someone whose mind, spirit, and soul, if you will, was of one gender but her body had been born with characteristics of the other. In Katie’s case, the soul was female, and the body was male. For the last ten years she’d been working hard at transforming her body and her life to match her soul.
From what Katie had said, Norman had made it quite clear he did not agree with his ‘little brother’s’ choice to become his little sister, and had pretty much broken off all contact. Of course, considering their contact over the prior ten years had only consisted of an annual Christmas card and a birthday card, she hadn’t really lost much.
Denise respected Norman’s right to disagree with Katie’s decision to live as a woman, even if she couldn’t understand how anyone could turn their back on their own sibling. However, she could not respect, understand or tolerate anyone who could disavow knowledge of their own family member when that person was sick, hurt, or possibly dying.
“Ms. Lampe, do you know if Miss Collins has any other family or relatives we might be able to contact?”
Denise thought for a moment. She knew Katie had no other siblings, and her father had long since passed. As of two years ago her mother was alive and living in Arizona with her second husband; however, Katie had not been in contact with her since she’d informed her that she was having gender reassignment surgery.
Katie’s mother had coolly accepted that her son was living as a woman, but when she found out about the surgery, she’d drawn the line. It was one thing for her son to explore his femininity or sort out some issues with a help of a therapist, but surgery was a point of no return, and she would not condone something she believed to be a permanent and tragic error in judgment. In the end, this meant that Katie lost one more family member, and two more greeting cards a year. Katie had never mentioned anyone else in her family, aside from a grandmother she cherished but who had long since passed.
“No I don’t. I mean … I don’t think she has any family, at least none I’m aware of.”
“Ms. Lampe, considering we cannot reach any family members and you are listed as an emergency contact, would you be willing to come to the hospital and speak to the attending physician? Any information you might be able to give would be of assistance.”
“Yes … yes of course. I can be there in about thirty minutes. Do I go to Casualty or … or should I go to Patient Information to see if she’s been put in her room? Is there a doctor I should ask for?”
Denise’s questions were greeted with the sound of nails taping on a keyboard. “I’m sorry, but there’s been no update on her condition. You’ll need to go to Casualty first and speak with the receptionist. She’ll be able to give you the name of Miss Collins’s physician and her room number if she’s been assigned one. Do you need directions?”
Denise smiled into the phone, “No … I’m quite familiar with the location of Mother of Mercy and the Casualty area. I’ve got three daughters, and every one of them liked to see if they could fall out of trees and bounce.”
“I understand completely,” was Amanda Carrington’s knowing reply which proved without doubt she had a few crumb snatchers of her own.
Denise rang off and then hurried up the stairs to dress. Ten minutes later she was in her youngest daughter’s room telling her to get up and get ready for school. The look she gave Samantha meant there was not time for their usual game of ‘I think I might be too sick to go to school today.’
Denise gave her a kiss and then a hug, headed into the hallway, then returned to add, “I love you.” Sleepy Samantha gave her mother and odd look before cautiously returning an “I love you, too,”
Samantha knew her mom wasn’t usually the syrupy sweet kind, especially in the morning “BC.” The “BC” in this context stood for before coffee. Samantha attributed Denise’s weird behaviour to her monthly cycle, or the after effects of the Gilmore Girls marathon they had watched on the weekend. She waited until she heard her mother slam the front door, then went back to pounding her pillow. She had no idea that her mother’s sudden attack of mushy maternalism had been brought on by a phone call concerning the lost Gilmore Girl better known as Katie Bug.
Denise scrapped the ice off Miss Kitty’s windscreen before she slipped behind the wheel. The fog was still thick, and the roads still slick, but Denise was determined to make good time. It took Miss Kitty a few minutes to warm up, but once she started purring, Denise had her on the road to Mother of Mercy.
A traffic light forced her first stop, and her thoughts turned to the first time she’d met Katie. It had been almost four years ago to the day. Denise had taken a few days off at the beginning of the year, sort of an extended holiday break, and when she returned, noticed a new girl working out in the warehouse. Three things stood out about the recent addition. She was a woman, she was tall and she had the most beautiful blue eyes Denise had ever seen. She’d only got a quick glimpse of them as she headed for the break room and her morning coffee fix, but they were such a lovely shade of blue that if she’d had an ice cream scoop she would of spooned them out and replaced her own.
What she did not notice during that first quick walk by encounter was that the new girl was newer than she realized. Despite the fact that Katie was nearly 40, she’d only been living as a woman for eight years. It wasn’t until she heard Katie speak and got a few longer second and third looks that she began to suspect Katie was a girl with a past.
Denise had been familiar with the term transsexual long before she had one for a co-worker. From the time she was a little girl, she’d always loved to learn, and the more unusual, the more abnormal, the more taboo the subject matter, the more she loved to learn about it. Transsexualism certainly fit all three and she read every bit of material on the subject whenever she could find any. The medical and psychological studies were fascinating, but it was the stories of the people, the souls trapped in body prisons of the opposite gender that really reached her.
When she’d first suspected Katie was a transsexual, her curiosity had nearly gone through the roof. She could hardly wait for the opportunity to actually get to know a real life someone who lived those trials and tribulations every day. It took only a few casual conversations during lunches and breaks however, for Denise to discover she was more interested in getting to know the person, than the transsexual. Katie gave her a chance to get to know quite a bit about both when she opened up to Denise and shared a story with her that she’d written. It was called The Kitten Tail, a fantasy offering mixed with fact that dealt with Katie’s transsexuality, her former employment as a meter maid, and her ultimate dream.
Denise read the story the same night Katie gave it to her. Katie had a real gift for written expression, as Denise found herself immersed in the story within the first few paragraphs. She was touched by the real life pain, frustration and longing that Katie had woven through her fantasy tale. The happy ending was sweet, sentimental, and totally impossible in the real world. It was definitely too syrupy sweet for Denise, but appropriate for someone like Katie, who looked longingly through rose colored glasses at the very normal and everyday life of a girl born in a girl’s body.
Denise was deeply touched by the story, but even more so by the fact that Katie had trusted her enough to share it with her. Katie was bravely baring her soul in those pages The next morning Denise greeted her friend with a heartfelt hug to let her friend know that she wasn’t offended, embarrassed or disgusted by what she’d read. That was the day their friendship truly began.
The sound of a horn honking from behind her broke Denise out of her mental fog and brought her back to the real life pea soup she was trying to navigate through. She was thankful the main roads appeared to be well salted. With any kind of luck, she could be at the hospital in less than fifteen.
Keeping one eye on traffic, Denise opened her cell phone and made the one call she needed to make. She pushed the autodial for Jack’s number. The voice that answered calmed her immediately.
“Hey babe, I was just thinking about you and how much I’d rather be waking up next to you instead of Dale.”
Dale the cat was the only other entity Jack shared his bed with, aside from Denise. Normally, Denise would have a really good comeback for a line like that, but she was fresh out of one-liners this morning.
“Jack,” she started in a hoarse voice.
Just the one word was all it took for Denise’s soul mate to know something was really wrong.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Katie Bug. There’s been some kind of traffic accident.”
Jack knew she needed his calming strength, and he did his best to give it to her. He spoke at half speed and double strength. “Okay … do you know how bad she’s hurt?”
“No,” her eyes threatened to mist. “I got a call from Mother of Mercy. She’s in Casualty, and that’s all I know. They ummm … asked if I’d come up … you know and talk to the doctors.”
“I don’t understand why they would call you. Shouldn’t they call her family or something?”
Denise sighed, “Yeah they tried that … but her brother … well I guess you could say he refused the call.”
The line was silent a few seconds. Like everyone else at the company, Jack knew Katie was a transsexual, so it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why Katie’s brother would disown her. If his brother had said he wanted to be his sister, it would have been hard for him too, but regardless, you don’t turn your back on family, and like Denise, he couldn’t understand how Katie’s brother could do that. When Jack spoke again there was anger in his voice, “Man I can’t understand that. Her brother must be a cold mother …”
Denise cut him off, “Jack I told you how it was with Bug and her family. I’m the closest thing she has to family, and you know how she feels about me and the girls. I … I just gotta be there. I don’t want her to be alone.”
Jack pushed aside his anger and put calming his beloved top of the list once again. “Hey … it’s alright. I know you don’t want her to be alone, and I know she’d rather have you be there than anyone else, but I don’t want you to be alone, so let me get dressed and I’ll met you in the hospital parking lot. I don’t want you going in there alone, especially well … if you don’t know how bad it is.”
Denise gave him a loving smile he couldn’t see. She so loved this man. He was beautiful, strong, romantic, funny, and smart, and he always seemed to know what she needed most. Right now he knew she needed him to be supportive, understanding and at her side.
“Thanks, Babe, I’ll wait for you outside Casualty.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“Jack?” she cut in, hoping he hadn’t rang off.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks … I’m sorry to have call and umm …”
“Hey … I want to be there … for you and for Katie. She’s my friend, too. And before you go there’s something else I want to say.”
“What … what else?”
He said the three words that said it all, “I love you”.
Denise felt her eyes misting again, but this time it was tears of joy and she gave the words back to him with the same heartfelt sentiment, “I love you too.”
Denise rang off, not any less worried about her friend’s condition, but a little more confident in her ability to handle whatever that condition might be, knowing that Jack would be at her side.
Morning rush hour finally caught up with her and traffic momentarily slowed to a crawl. Her thoughts went full focus on Katie, and how their friendship had grown over the last four years.
Denise and Katie were normally the last two left in the building at day’s end, and quite often they sat and talked for hours. Denise discovered that Katie was an even better storyteller in person than she was in the pages of her fiction. She had lived quite a life being a girl forced to masquerade as a boy, and Denise hung on every word Katie shared with her. Her stories were a combination of fear, ignorance, frustration, pain and hopelessness, but quite often spun with a good dose of self-deprecating humor.
While Denise did most of the listening and learning, she too returned the favor, and shared stories about her childhood and being a mother raising three girls on her own. Katie was deeply touched that Denise would share her life stories with her and she loved hearing them every bit as much as Denise enjoyed hearing hers. Whenever Denise shared a story, she could tell by the sparkle in Katie’s eyes and the smile on her face that she was totally immersed in the tale. Denise knew that Katie was putting herself into the story, living the life that had been in her dreams, and always outside her reach.
The traffic jam finally broke and Denise was on her way once again. She hadn’t gotten more than a few blocks when her good fortune was short-lived once again. A school bus was stopping traffic on both sides of the road. She watched as the bus attendant hurried along her children like a momma duck and her baby ducklings. The fact that she and most of the kids were dressed in yellow rain suits only made the comparison more fitting.
One little girl, probably no older than six or seven, lost her hat in a gust of wind. Denise giggled as she watched a pair of pigtails bounce, bob and weave as she chased the skittering hat across the sidewalk. Once again her thoughts returned to her friend who had been taken to Casualty that morning.
She once had made Katie very happy by telling her that she when she thought of her, she thought of her as a pizza cut into two unequal slices. Since pizza was Katie’s favorite food, the comparison immediately made her both hungry and happy. The ingredients on the two slices were very different, but together both made Katie who she was.
The smile slice, or what Denise estimated comprised about 13% of Katie, had the woman, the worker and the boy she had once lived as. Katie had lived as a boy or a man for nearly thirty years, and those experiences, whether they were true to her soul image or not, was part of who she was. She could leave her family, her job, and her name behind, but not the boy. He would always peek out at her whenever she looked in the mirror.
The worker was Denise’s girl Friday everyday. She was a dedicated, hard working perfectionist whom Denise relied upon any time she needed something done carefully, accurately … and yesterday. Katie took her job to heart, almost too much so, and Denise had to constantly remind her of that.
The final ingredient of the small slice was Katie the woman. She was intelligent and brave. If she hadn’t possessed those two qualities she would either be dead, or still living as a man. She was also generous, funny in that self deprecating way of hers, and far more “girly” than Denise considered herself to be. Katie was one of the kind of girls who easily cried over a song, a movie or even a cat food commercial. Denise called her a “big hairy hormone,” and just as bad as her teenage daughters. To Katie, it was the ultimate compliment.
Katie the woman, like any other woman, was more than just sugar. She was spice, too, and on occasion it was red hot chili powder. She had a temper as Irish as her heritage, and on those rare occasions when she tapped into that lifetime of frustration, the whole building knew it.
While the worker was confident in her abilities on the floor, the woman struggled in that department. She had a negative self-image, a lack of self confidence, and a boat load of phobias. She struggled with depression, dependency, and could become positively petrified at making a decision as simple as which item to choose off the value menu for lunch.
Denise knew enough of Katie’s story, and had read enough of other transgender stories to know that many of those problems were quite typical. It had to be pretty tough to grow up to be a confident, assertive and upbeat woman, when the mirror, your parents and the world you lived in told you that you were a man. And if you found the courage to stand up and tell them they were wrong, you probably weren’t believed, and most likely you were punished or shamed for sharing your beliefs. It was easy to see how Katie could become the woman she was.
And then there was the part of Katie that Denise had been reminded of when she saw the little girl chasing her rain bonnet across the sidewalk. This slice comprised the remaining 87% of the princess pie. Denise had affectionately nicknamed her Katie Bug, because she was as cute as a bug, and without a doubt she was 100% little girl.
In the many case studies of transgender or gender dysphonic individuals that Denise had read, she’d never come across the added complication of being “age dysphoric”. She wasn’t even sure if there was such a classification as Age Dysphoria in the mental health data base, but Katie certainly suffered from it.
Within every woman no matter what her age, there is always a little girl. Considering that transgender women rarely ever got to be little girls, it would make sense that their little girl within might be a bit more prominent at times. Such prominence might manifest itself in her keeping a few precious stuffies or a dolly on her bed. She might have a few outfits in her wardrobe that were a bit heavy on the ruffles and bows, or perhaps stuffed somewhere beneath her bed were a pair of cherished Mary Jane’s and colored chalk to draw a hop scotch board.
With Katie Bug it went far deeper than those things. The little girl within her was almost an entirely separate identity. Many times on those evening chats in Denise’s office, the little girl would peek out and the adult would almost seem to fade away. The transformation was not only emotional and mental, but quite often physical as well. Katie’s body language would change and she seemed to almost shrink into the chair. If the little girl was sad or frightened, she would rock and hold her arms tightly. If she was happy, she would bounce in her seat and swing her legs. Her eyes would shine the bluest blue Denise had ever seen. Even her speech patterned was affected, as both tone and pronunciation often slipped in and out of childish speech.
Katie Bug was pretty much like most little girls her age, which Denise discovered through her appearances and through Katie’s stories, was somewhere between 5 and 8 years old. She loved her stuffies and pretty clothes. She was shy and quiet around those she did not know, and a “Chatty Cathy” hug monster around those she knew and was comfortable with. Denise happened to be on that short list, and so did her daughters. During their after hour chats and the occasional get together at Denise’s house, the little girl would come out in spades. Denise’s daughters adored their mom’s friend whom they considered to be sort of a big little girl. She soon became sort of an adopted little sister and honorary daughter of the house.
Denise allowed the little girl to play in her presence, but Denise was a pragmatist, and by definition, she had to keep at least one foot in reality at all times. This meant that even if 87% of Katie was little girl, the other 13% which comprised 100% of the physical body was adult, and that was the part that had to live and work in the real world.
Denise knew from the stories Katie wrote, their long chats, and with the hugs, smiles and tears she shared with her, that Katie’s 87% wanted to be a 100% little girl, 100% of the time. And … she wanted to be Denise’s little girl, a real life Gilmore-Lampe girl. Denise was honored that Katie would choose her as mother above all others. There was no doubt that the little girl tripped Denise’s maternal instinct every time she peeked out from those baby blues, and if Denise could have waved a magic wand and given her friend her dream, she would have. Denise didn’t want another daughter. She often joked at times she’d trade the ones she had for a fifth of Patron tequila, and white sandy beach to enjoy it on, but she would have found room in heart and her home for one more girl.
She would have wiggled her nose like some real life Samantha from Bewitched and given her friend her heart’s desire. She wouldn’t have done it because she wanted another crumb snatcher, she wouldn’t have done it just because she loved her friend. She would have done it because she knew it was what Katie needed and deserved. Yes, if she could have, she would have, and she’d told Katie that many times, but she could not, and that was reality.
Katie didn’t much care for reality and avoided it at every turn. Denise had noted that the little girl within Katie was becoming more and more prominent, and the woman becoming more depressed and more dependent upon her. After hours conversations seemed to always end up in tearfests, and Katie held the goodbye hugs longer and longer.
Denise had begun to feel frustrated and uncomfortable as Katie tightened her grip and strengthened her dependency. Eventually, Denise had to give her wannabe daughter a dose of tough love, the same kind she would have given her real daughters in a similar situation. She sat Katie down one night, shut the door, and stated the cold hard reality that her friend knew, but had been running from.
“Honey, if I could give you what you want, I promise you I would, but I can’t. And no matter how much you wish and want and wait, you will never, ever wake up one day and be a little girl. It’s impossible.”
Denise could see the tears welling in her friends eyes but she couldn’t be swayed by them. “I’m your friend, and I love you dearly, but I can’t be your mom. I will never be your mom. I don’t want to be your mom, and you will never be my daughter. My girls will never be your sisters, and you will never live with me. I’m sorry, Bug. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth, and if you want to continue being friends with me, you’re going to have to accept it.”
Tears rolled down Katie’s cheeks. She shook, she rocked and her heart shattered all over Denise’s office floor. Denise’s heart broke, too. She hadn’t wanted to do it, but she’d had to do it. She couldn’t be a willing party to a fantasy that could never be a reality and was destroying her friend. She had to set Katie straight, and she had to set boundaries.
For weeks after that conversation Katie walked around the office as if she was ready to burst into tears at any minute. Denise wished she could wrap her arms around her and make it better, but she couldn’t. All she could do was be her friend and stay near while Katie dealt with it. She subscribed to the theory that said, “That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” For a while, she feared the depression might drive her friend to kill herself, but Katie endured the darkness and eventually found some semblance of her balance once again.
It was now nearly six months since that night and while some things had changed, Denise conceded that some never would. Katie still put Denise up high on a parental pedestal, and still longed for the same dream come true. She still lit up every time Denise mentioned her daughters, and she looked through rose colored glasses at even the most mundane activity occurring at the Lampe home.
She still was a hug monster, still got misty eyed at every good bye and still routinely begged Denise to sing her a few lines of ‘Part of Your World’ from ‘The Little Mermaid.’ But … at least she was functioning in the workplace, respecting Denise’s boundaries and not looking like a suicide waiting to happen. Their after hour chats brought a smile to Denise’s face and there was life in the friendship once again, but now, as the hospital loomed in the horizon, she wondered if there would be any more chats and how much life was left in her friend.
As she pulled into the parking area, she saw a handsome man sitting on the bonnet of his late model Chevrolet. He immediately calmed her and brought a smile to her face. She pulled in beside Jack and he opened her door as soon as she turned off the engine. She stepped out and looked into his eyes. He didn’t need to hear a request. He knew what she needed and immediately pulled her into an embrace. Denise savored the warmth and safety of being held in her love’s arms before tearing herself away to face what waited.
Denise looked up into Jack’s hazel eyes. “Thanks for coming. I … hated to ask but.”
Jack took her hand and held it gently but firmly. “You don’t have to thank me. I should be here, and I want to be here. We’re together now, and that means just that. We face everything together, okay?”
Denise nodded silently, then laid her head on her beloved’s shoulder. Jack savored the moment and then slowly led her toward the Casualty entrance.
Casualty was a flurry of activity as always, and the pair dodged patients and nurses as they made their way to the reception desk.
Denise was greeted by a tired but warm smile and a clip board pushed in her direction. “If you’re here for admittance, could you please fill out the form and we’ll be with you as soon as we can.”
“I’m not here for admittance,” Denise gently corrected her. “I’m Denise Lampe. I’m here to see about a friend of mine. Her name is Kaitlyn Collins. I was told she was brought in to Casualty this morning.”
The angel of mercy, pushed glasses up on her nose and turned to the computer screen. “Just a minute, ma’am, I’ll see if I can find her for you.”
Denise squeezed Jack’s hand as agonizing seconds seemed like hours.
The receptionist finally stopped typing. “She’s no longer in Casualty.”
Denise smiled hopefully as Jack took the lead. “Can you tell us the room she’s been moved to, and her condition?”
She never took her eyes from the keys. “I’ll page Doctor Reyes. She was the attending physician when your friend was admitted. She’ll be able to answer your questions.”
Jack and Denise listened as her page boomed through the hospital. “Doctor Reyes, please report to Casualty Admittance. Dr. Reyes, please report to Casualty Admittance.”
The receptionist pointed across the room. “If you’ll have a seat in the waiting area, she should be here momentarily.”
She gave one more professional smile and then turned to deal with the next person in line.
Denise begged her attention one last time. “Excuse me, I know we need to talk to the doctor, but I’m really worried about my friend. Isn’t there anything else you can tell us?”
She was greeted by one last sympathetic smile, “I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to wait for Doctor Reyes.”
“Thank you,” Jack answered as he led Denise over to the waiting area. He moved a cold cup of coffee and a few empty chip bags from two vacant seats.
Denise eased into one. “This isn’t good. I’ve been here with the girls more times than I can remember, and I’ve never gotten a look like that.”
Jack took her hand again, “I wouldn’t read too much into it, Babe. Let’s just wait until we get a chance to talk to the doctor.”
They didn’t have to wait long, as a young Latina doctor with beautiful dark eyes and long black hair walked toward them. Denise and Jack rose to meet her.
She greeted them with a warm a smile and a soft voice, “Hello, I’m Dr. Reyes.”
“I’m Denise Lampe, and this is Jack Christopher. We were told you could tell us about our friend Katie. Is she alright?”
The smile faded from the doctor’s lips as she directed them back to the chairs.
“Ms. Lampe, Mr. Christopher. I’m so very sorry, but you’re friend died shortly after arriving. She had massive internal injuries, severe blood loss and trauma to the head as a result of the accident. She died before we could even prep her for surgery.”
“Oh no!” Denise cried as she buried her head on Jack’s shoulder.
“We did everything we could do. I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
Denise lifted her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sure you did, doctor. I … I just can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Doctor Reyes?” Jack directed her attention. “About the accident … is there anything you can tell us?
She shook her head and sighed. “I only know what the paramedics said when she was brought in. She was a victim of a hit and run at the corner of State and Minnesota, I think. I don’t know if they ever caught the driver. I might be able to get you a contact name … the detective handling the case. My sister Patti works at the local precinct.”
“Two blocks.” Denise’s voice drifted as if she were in a fog.
“I’m sorry babe. What was that?”
She turned to face Jack, anger starting to creep into her voice. “Two blocks. She was only two blocks from work when some son of a bitch ran her over and then didn’t even bother to stop to see if she was alright.”
Jack wrapped a comforting arm around her.
“I know this is a terrible shock and I don’t wish to make it any worse, but Dr. Martinez, our Chief Coroner asked me to direct you to his office. There’s the matter of positive identification, and some arrangements to be made. However, if you’d like a little time to … well … to let this settle in, I can let him know you’ll be over to see him later.”
Denise pulled her self together. There would be a time for tears and anger, but right now a cool head was needed to deal with matters at hand. “Thanks, Dr. Reyes, but that won’t be necessary. I can meet with Dr. Martinez right away.”
Jack gave his love a concerned gaze. “Are you sure?
Denise sighed and summoned her best brave smile. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Dr. Reyes once again gave her condolences for their loss and then walked the pair to the elevator. “Dr. Martinez office is on the lower level. It’s a direct right straight out of the elevator, room B125, but I don’t mind taking you down.”
Denise smiled at the woman who had the unenviable task of delivering bad news on a daily basis. “Thank you, but I’m sure we can manage.”
“I’ll call Dr. Martinez on my mobile and let him know you are on the way down, and again, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”
Denise and Jack thanked the doctor again and Denise added a hug.
When the elevator rang they stepped in and then waved goodbye to the doctor as the doors closed behind them. The few seconds of alone time allowed Denise to let down her guard, and more tears fell. Jack stayed quiet and close. He knew for now there was little else he could do.
One right turn after leaving the elevator and a short walk down the corridor led them to room B125 and the Coroner’s Office. Denise took a deep breath as Jack opened the door for her.
When they stepped in, they were immediately greeted by a handsome Latino man with a touch of gray at the temples, wearing a long white lab coat. He extended his hand forward to Jack.
“I’m Dr. Jorge Martinez.”
Jack took it firmly and introduced himself. Denise immediately followed suit.
“And I’m Denise Lampe. I’ve come to identify Kaitlyn Collins’s body and to settle arrangements.”
The smile left the doctor’s face. “Yes, I know. I just rang off with Dr. Reyes and before we go any farther, I’d like to extend my condolences to you both. I will try not to make any of this more painful than it needs to be. If you’d like to, take a little time before going back.”
Denise shook her head. “Thank you, I do appreciate that, but I think I just want to get this over with.”
Dr. Martinez nodded. “I understand that completely, and I’ll take you back to the morgue shortly, but I have a few questions I’d like to ask. Some of them … well … may be a bit awkward.”
Denise sighed. She knew where this was leading. “Does this involve Katie being a post operative transsexual?”
The doctor looked obviously uncomfortable. “Well yes, that’s part of it, but … ummm … it’s a bit more complicated than that, Ms. Lampe. I think we need to sit down and discuss the situation before going back. It is rather unique.”
Denise nodded her understanding and then turned to the rock at her side. “Babe, you don’t have go back to the morgue with me.”
“What? Of course I’m going with you. I told you I’d be here for you.”
She smiled up at her love. “I know that, and you are here for me, but I also know that you were never completely comfortable with Katie’s gender issue.”
Jack was wounded. “That’s not true. You know I liked her and I always treated her as a her.”
“Even if you really didn’t consider her to be one?” she added.
Jack sighed and dropped his head. “Look, that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that I’m here for you, and I don’t want you doing this alone.”
Denise took Jack’s hand and squeezed it. “I know you don’t, but I might have to answer some very personal questions about Katie; things I’m pretty sure you won’t be comfortable hearing about.”
“I can handle it.”
Denise smiled at her brave knight. “I know you can, but I think I need to do this part on my own. Just be here for me when I come out. I know I’m going to need you then.”
Jack looked into her blue eyes. He didn’t like letting her go off on her own, but he also knew he really didn’t have a choice. Denise was a strong, independent woman, which were just two of the reasons he loved her.
“Okay I’ll wait here, but if you change your mind …”
Denise winked, then kissed him on the cheek, “I’ll call you on my mobile.”
Jack reluctantly released her and took a seat while Dr. Martinez led Denise out of the office and down the corridor. The walked along silently, save for the click of Denise’s heels on the tile floor.
Dr. Martinez finally broke the silence. “Ms. Lampe”
“Please just call me Denise.”
He smiled and started again. “Denise according to the records I received, Ms. Collins had no next of kin. Is that true?”
Denise sighed. “Well … no that’s not true but it may as well be. Her father is deceased, but her mother is still alive, and she does have one half brother; however, both disowned her after she had gender reassignment surgery.”
“That’s terrible, but not surprising. I’ve heard that story too many times. People like her have to often sacrifice everything just to live in the proper gender role.”
Denise nodded silently as they continued down the corridor.
“Ms. Lampe … err … Denise would you say you knew Ms. Collins very well? I mean, would you say you were her best friend?”
“Yes I knew Katie very well, maybe better than just about anybody and I’m pretty sure I was her best friend.”
Denise stopped and then eyed the doctor suspiciously. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t see how my relationship with Katie would have anything to do with me identifying her body. It seems like a very strange question to ask.”
Dr. Martinez pointed her toward the next doorway. “You’re absolutely right. It is a very strange question to ask, but this is a very strange situation, and that’s putting it mildly.”
Denise gave the doctor a puzzled look before she walked through the door he’d opened for her. Lights came on automatically to reveal a pristine white lab room. It was nothing like the morgue Denise had seen in most of the movies or crime shows she watched.
Dr. Martinez directed Denise over to a table and then sat down across from her.
“Dr. Martinez,” she started.
“Please, call me Jorge.”
“Okay …. Jorge, this doesn’t really look like what I expected.”
“Yes … well this isn’t where we store and view the bodies. That’s next door. When we go over there I promise you it will be much more state of the art CSI. But before we go over there I need to prepare you for what your going to see … if that’s possible.”
A chill ran down Denise’s spine and thoughts went straight to the pit. “
“Was she so badly hurt that I might not be able to recognize her?”
“Well …she was badly hurt, but the physical damage she received in the accident wouldn’t have comprised a positive identification.”
Jorge hesitated before delivering the next line. “It was what apparently happened after she arrived in the morgue that is the issue here.”
Denise was exasperated. “I’m sorry but I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not sure if I understand what I’m talking about,” the Doctor confessed.
“I’m not sure if I can explain it what’s happened, and even if I did, I don’t how I’m going to get you to believe it, but I can’t let you walk in there without trying.”
Denise’s eyes were a steel grey. “You say it’s quite strange, and now I’m beginning to believe you. So, why don’t you just tell me exactly what’s happened to my friend, and I’ll decide what I can believe.”
Jorge nodded and then started from the beginning. “Shortly after they brought Miss Collins in …”
Denise raised her hand to interrupt. “Why don’t you just call her Katie or Katie Bug? I know she would have preferred that.”
He flashed his beautiful smile and started again. “Shortly after Katie was brought into Casualty, I got a call on my mobile from Christina. She’s a good friend, and happened to be the EMT on the scene when Katie was injured. She informed me that Katie’s condition was critical, and that she didn’t think she would recover … meaning I would probably be getting a new patient this morning.”
Denise shivered as she listened to the tale. It sounded more like a dispatcher scheduling a truck delivery than an ambulance bringing in a life hanging on the edge.
“Now normally, Christina wouldn’t call me to let me know I have a potential customer, but your friend Katie, was unique. Her particular physical abnormality has always been an interest of mine, especially the corrective surgery, and Christina knew that.”
Denise straightened in her chair and narrowed her eyes, “You’re talking about her being a post operative transsexual. Are you telling me you were hoping she would die so you could get a good look at her new plumbing?”
Jorge waved his hand in front of Denise and immediately backed up. “No … no it’s nothing like that at all. I would never wish for anyone to die! Nothing on Earth would make me happier than to never see another body come through those double doors. I’ve seen far too many already.”
Denise realized she’d been quick to judge and harsh when she did. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I know you weren’t hoping Katie would die. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just … well … I’m a little upset right now. I’m sure you can understand that.”
Jorge’s smile returned. “Yes I do. Honestly I do, and I don’t blame you for being upset with what I said, because it was the truth. I did want to examine Katie, in part for my own selfish reasons. I wanted to see the reconstruction surgery. I know it is one of the most amazing procedures and I’ve only seen pictures and videos on gender reassignment. But … that was not the only reason I wanted to be the one handling her case. I also wanted to be sure she was handled with the same dignity and respect as all those who pass through the double doors should be. You’re Katie’s best friend. I’m sure she’s shared stories with you about the kind of prejudice she’s had to endure in life. Well I just didn’t want her to have to endure more in death. I wasn’t going to let some junior staff member do the examination and call a few of his colleagues in to ‘check out the freak’ and make jokes. And sadly … that does happen, but I wasn’t going to let it happen to Katie … not on my watch.”
Denise was touched by this man who dealt with death daily. He was surrounded by tragedy, sadness, darkness and death, but it hadn’t soured him on life. It was obvious he was a warm and caring individual. He had meant no offense to Katie. In fact, he had done everything in his power to shield her from such things, but the question still remained. What had happened to Katie that was so … so … strange? Denise could only listen patiently as Jorge continued the story.
“As I’m sure Dr. Reyes told you, Katie died shortly after arriving in Casualty. Once death had been pronounced, and everything logged in, she was scheduled to be transferred to the morgue. I went upstairs to records and picked up her charts and that … is when things started to get strange.”
Dr. Martinez pushed a manila folder toward Denise. She hadn’t noticed it was on the table until he’d slid it across the table.
“Those are the vitals we have on Katie. Could you look them over and see if they are accurate to the best of your knowledge?”
Denise picked up the folder and braced herself for a gory post accident picture; fortunately it was only facts and figures that greeted her. Denise quickly scanned the information and found everything in order.
“As far as I can see that pretty much sums up Katie. I didn’t notice any discrepancies in the descriptions or dates.”
Jorge nodded and reached for the folder. “Thank you.”
He opened it and read the first few lines. “Kaitlyn G Collins … Female … Age 41 … Height: 72 inches … Weight … 140 pounds …. Eyes … blue … hair … brown. Time of death 6:08 a.m.”
Denise stopped Jorge. “Wait a minute … 6:08? If she died at 6:08 then … then she was already dead when they called me.”
Jorge sighed. “I’m sorry; unfortunately this happens all too often. By the time information finally gets to the office and someone is notified, the patient’s condition has often changed dramatically.”
Tears welled in Denise’s eyes. It was as if her friend had now died twice today. Realizing he’d covered the important information, Jorge stopped reading and then closed the file. He returned it to its place on the table.
“It was shortly after seven when I signed off for this folder at the records desk. I stopped in the cafeteria and had coffee and a Danish while I looked it over. I was probably there about fifteen minutes. Katie’s body was signed out of Casualty for transfer to the morgue at 7:17. I checked the records.”
Denise was beginning to feel like this was some 21st century version of Dragnet. “Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt and I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t understand what this ‘play by play’ has to do with me identifying Katie and signing off on a few forms.”
Jorge flashed that killer smile of his again and begged Denise’s patience, promising he would be bringing the point home soon.
Reaching behind him he grabbed a remote control and pointed it at a television screen to Denise’s right. “I really think you’re going to want to pay careful attention to this, especially the time monitor in the corner.”
Denise watched the screen come on and immediately recognized it as footage from a security camera.
“This is the hallway that we just walked down. The security cam monitors this hallway at all times. Please note the time and date in the lower left hand corner.”
Denise leaned forward and then reached into her purse to produce her glasses. The display read today’s date and the time was 7:22. Denise watched an empty corridor for about twenty seconds and then the scene changed. An orderly pushing a gurney with a body on it suddenly appeared at the far end of the hallway.
Jorge pushed a button on the remote. “Let me increase the size of the image. I want you to be able to see this clearly.”
The camera closed in on the gurney rolling down the hallway. When it appeared to be directly in front of the camera, Jorge sharpened the focus a little tighter and paused the frame.
“I really am sorry to have to do this, but I assure you it’s absolutely essential that I do. Can you clearly see the face of the person on the gurney?”
The body was obscured by the sheet but the face was in crystal clear view. It was bruised and a bit bloodied. The hair was pulled back and she couldn’t see the colour of the eyes, but there was no mistaking the identity of this person. Tears welled in Denise’s eyes as she turned away from the image. Her voice was barely audible. “That’s her. That’s Katie. No doubt about it.”
Jorge reached into his coat pocket and produced a few Kleenex. He offered them to Denise. “Again, I’m so sorry for having to show you this, but I had to do it, and now … you’ll understand why.”
Jorge pulled the camera angle back to normal and then pushed the play button on the remote. He directed Denise’s attention to the screen one more time. She turned in time to see the gurney and the orderly disappear through the double doors. Two minutes later, the orderly reappeared through the doors and retraced his steps down the hallway until he was out of view and the hallway was empty once again.
“The orderly placed Katie’s body in the morgue at 7:23 and signed off on delivery at 7:25. I have a copy of that form in the folder I showed you. Now … I’m going to fast forward the security tape, but if you watch it closely you’ll see there will no traffic in the hallway until …”
Jorge held the button until an image appeared at the far end of the hallway. He resumed normal play status at that time.
“There … that’s me stepping off the elevator and the time display reads 7:33.”
Denise watched as Jorge made his way down the hallway and eventually disappeared through the double doors. At this point Jorge shut off the tape.
“Katie was signed in at the morgue at 7:25 and I arrived there at 7:33, and as you can see there was no traffic whatsoever during the time in between. No one came into the morgue, and no one came out during those eight minutes.”
Denise nodded, but still unsure why she was being asked to play Watson to this Latino Sherlock Holmes.
“And Denise, in case you are wondering … there are no other doors to the morgue, no windows, no removable ceiling tiles, and no vents or accesses larger than four inches in diameter. There is no way her body could have been taken from the morgue without the camera capturing the image.”
Denise’s eyes narrowed again, “I wasn’t wondering about any of those things before you mentioned them, but I sure as hell am now. Are you trying to tell me that you’ve lost Katie’s body?”
Jorge shook his head. That killer smile of his was dead. “Well yes … but no not really … I mean … ummm … I … I don’t know what I mean. In my seventeen years of working at the Coroner’s office I have never lost a body … and I … well I still don’t think I lost Katie’s … but maybe it sort of lost us.”
Denise stood up from the table. She was out of patience for the Coroner’s version of Clue. She wanted some simple answers to some very simple questions.
“Is my friend’s body in the next room or isn’t it?”
Jorge rubbed fingers through his shortly cropped black hair, “Yes … no … I … I … don’t know. There’s a body in there on the same gurney that you saw enter on the security tape. In fact, it’s the only body in the morgue. We actually had an empty house this morning. But … it’s well … it’s not the same body … that was wheeled in.”
“That’s crazy! If Katie’s body was the only body in the morgue this morning and her body wasn’t removed, then the body in there has to be Katie’s.”
Jorge stood up and started to pace. “You’re right, Denise. You’re absolutely right. It has to be Katie’s. It has to be the 41 year old transsexual female that was logged in and rolled in and signed for. It has to be, but … it’s not.”
Denise slammed her hands down on the table which stopped Jorge in his tracks. “Well pardon me, but if it’s not my friend, just who in the hell is it, and where in the hell is Katie!”
“I … I can’t answer either question.” Jorge threw up his arms in frustration. “You saw the tape. You know all the facts. That has to be Katie in there and yet when I walked in there was a completely different body where hers should be.
Denise calmed herself. Realizing hysteria and anger wasn’t the way to get answers; she tried to go about this logically.
“Okay … I don’t really care about someone else’s body. Let’s just try and find Katie’s first. Since her body wasn’t where it should be, then obliviously the guy who brought her in put her some place else. You know … like in one of those long file cabinet type drawers.
Jorge sighed. “I checked every drawer in the place, twice, thrice, and then some, but she wasn’t there. I’d of checked my desk drawer if I thought she would be there, but there was only one body in the room and it wasn’t the one we saw rolled in.”
“Then someone had to remove her body, and when I find out who that is I’m going to skin the son of a …”
“You saw the tape.” Jorge cut in mid-expletive. “No one came in or out after Katie was dropped off … that is, until I came in eight minutes later. There … is … no … way … out! The body currently laying on that gurney has to be to Katie’s. There is no other explanation, and yet it’s not her.
Denise rubbed her temples. A headache was coming on fast. “Okay … do you have security tapes of the morgue itself? You know, on the inside. That way we can see what happened to Katie after she was dropped off?”
Jorge shook his head. “I wish we did, but there are no security cameras in the morgue. We do have cameras. Sometimes we tape some of the procedures for educational and training purposes, but none of those cameras were on at the time. There’s just no way of knowing what transpired during those eight minutes. It’s something right out of Houdini. It’s as if her body disappeared … and then reappeared … only … as a totally different body. And we both know that’s impossible.”
“I want to see the body!” Denise said softly but firmly.
“But it’s not Katie’s body. I told you I don’t know who this is. I’ve checked and rechecked the records, and no one else has been logged into the morgue. So now, I’ve got a log entry with no body and a body with no log entry, and no way to sort this out.”
“I want to see the body!” Denise repeated, just as softly but more firmly.
“Alright … alright. I’ll show you the body, but I should probably prepare you for what you’re going to see. This kind of death is always the worst.”
“I take it this person was badly injured or burned … something like that?”
“No … to the contrary. There is barely a mark on her. Granted I didn’t really do much of an examination once I realized it wasn’t Katie’s body, but for all practical purposes, she looks a very healthy girl just sleeping peacefully.”
“So why would you call that one of the worst deaths? It sounds to me like she went as gently as one could hope.”
Jorge opened the door to the hallway for Denise, “No I’m not talking about the mode or manner of death. I’m talking about the individual who died. It’s why when I see one like this die it always tears me up, and it’s also why there is absolutely no doubt the body in the morgue can’t possibly be Katie’s, even if by all rights it has to be.”
Denise stopped in the middle of the doorway. “And why is that?”
Jorge held the door, “Because the body in the morgue is that of a female child, approximately 5 to 7 years old.”
He readied himself to release the door to catch the woman, but Denise remained steady as she repeated her earlier request.
“I want to see the body!”
Jorge led her down the hallway to the room next door. He stopped in front of the swinging doors. “Before we go in, I just want you to know that I take full responsibility for all of this. I’m sure you friend’s body will turn up, and when it does, hopefully there’ll be some logical explanation for all this but … that doesn’t excuse the negligence on my part. Her body was my responsibility, and I failed to take care of her. Whatever legal action you want to take against me as a result of this … I fully accept and will not fight. If you want my resignation, I’ll have it on the mayor’s desk this afternoon. Hell … I may put it there whether you ask for it or not.”
Denise gave the Doctor a brave smile, “Look … you seem like a very caring and fairly competent professional. I’m not looking to place blame or start legal proceedings. At this point, I just want to find my friend’s body and make the arrangements.”
“And I want to help you find it, but you won’t find her in there.”
“Maybe I won’t but I can’t think of any place else to look. Can you?”
Jorge shook his head silently.
“And as for the body in there, she’s a little girl, and for the moment, she’s alone and unclaimed. I want to see her. I know Katie would want me to see her.”
The doctor offered no more apologies or objections as he pushed the swinging doors to the morgue open.
Motion sensors tripped the lighting, and momentarily blinded Denise.
“Sorry, it’s pretty bright in here, considering the work we do.”
Denise shivered and wished she’d had the sweater she always kept near at her “ice conditioned” office environment.
“Yeah … and we keep it a little on the cold side too.”
Denise’s eyes went straight to gurney in the centre of the room. She noted the body beneath the blue plastic took up considerably less space than the one that she’d watched on the video and positively identified as Katie’s.
Jorge led Denise to the side of the table and then slowly pulled back the covering to reveal the rounded face of a sleeping baby angel. Denise could feel the tears welling in her eyes.
Jorge shook his head. “It just gets stranger and stranger.”
Denise wiped a tear from her eye. And why is that?”
“Well … two things. One, when I came in and found this body where Katie’s should be, it was lying on its stomach. The right hand was propped up under the chin, as it had been holding it up, and the left hand was dangling off the side of the table. Now that’s strange, but not half as strange as what I found when I checked the body.”
Jorge paused and then reached down to take the dead girls hand in his.
“When I examined her body it was still very warm. I mean so warm that I immediately checked to see if she was still alive. Sadly … she wasn’t, but I’d estimate she couldn’t have been dead for more than a few minutes, maybe even less than that. It was almost as if … as if … she died just before I walked in the door. That’s one more on our growing list of impossibilities.”
Denise looked down at the face of the seemingly sleeping child. “Do you know what she died of?”
“No … not really. There’s no obvious trauma. It’s almost as if she just went to sleep and didn’t wake up. I’m sure a more thorough examination will determine the cause of death.”
Denise raised her gaze to meet Jorge’s. “Could you leave me alone with her for awhile?”
“I’m sorry.” Jorge gave her a puzzled glance. “Did you say you wanted to be alone with her? I thought you wanted to look for your friend?”
“Right now I just want to be alone with this girl. Please don’t ask why.”
Jorge threw up his hands, “Hey I’ve already got enough questions without answers already. I don’t need any more. If you want to sit with her for a while that’s alright. We can discuss Katie when you’re ready.”
Denise forced a brave smile. “Thank you.”
Jorge headed toward the door. “Alright … I’ll be just outside the door if you need me.”
Denise nodded and watched Jorge until he disappeared through the door. Summoning all the courage and the sanity she could muster, she turned once again to face the lifeless child on the table.
She noted the rounded cheeks, the button nose, and the soft reddish blonde curls that had fallen over closed eyes. She knew those features all too well. She’d seen them a hundred times in the stories that Katie had written, and in the eyes of the woman who’d poured out her heart to her so many nights after work. The resemblance to Katie’s spirit self was uncanny, but it was the Native American jewelry around her neck that removed all doubt. Denise traced the pink beaded necklace with her finger. She’d gotten it for Katie on her trip to Washington D.C. It was normally given to small children by their mothers to protect them from bad spirits entering their dreams and causing nightmares. Katie was over the moon when Denise gave it to her and swore she’d never take it off.
Denise shook her head and chuckled as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“You little shit … you just had to prove me wrong, didn’t you? You’re worse than the kids. I told you no. I told you that you were never going to wake up one day and be a little girl … but you wouldn’t take no for an answer would you? Somehow … someway … you did it didn’t you? You stubborn little girl. You finally got your wish.”
Yes, she knew what she was saying. She was admitting that the impossible was possible. She was going against everything she knew to be true and real, and on this side of the Twilight Zone, but she couldn’t deny what, or more aptly who, was lying there right before her eyes. It was Katie Bug. It was that little girl her adult friend had shared with her through their long conversations, through her fantasy stories and through the longing looks in her eyes. It was the same little girl who jumped out whenever she saw one of Denise’s daughters, and who squeezed Denise so tight when they closed the office on Fridays. It was the same little girl who cried and begged Denise to wave a magic wand so she could be her daughter and go home with her.
As Denise’s finger gently caressed the child’s soft curls, she knew someone had woven some finger wiggle magic, because there was no doubt this was her Katie Bug.
Denise’s finger touched the button nose and she could almost hear Katie Bug giggle.
“You’re absolutely adorable,” she said with a smile.
“You’re everything you wrote of … everything you imagined yourself to be, right down to the …”
She hesitated as she lifted the covering and looked at the legs beneath.
“Uh … huh … right down to the skinned knees you always said you’d have from bouncing around the playground.”
Her hand returned to curls she’d caressed earlier. “And this lot … this reddish blonde mass of wild curly weeds that is supposed to be hair. You stole that from me, didn’t you? And the nose, too. You got both those from your momma, and … well … there’s no doubt who that is.”
“And those eyes. I … I don’t need to see them to know it’s those big beautiful baby blues of yours that I was so totally envious of. I know you brought those with you. You may have left everything else with the old body, but those eyes … those eyes are there. I know it.”
Denise’s hand found Katie’s and she held the tiny one in hers. There was still a bit of warmth there and she caressed it lovingly.
“How, Katie? How … did … you do this? How did you make your dream come true? How did you make one of your fantasy stories real? You spent most of your life wishing and praying for this. Believing that if you just held on to the dream, that eventually it would come true. And … and now it has. I believe it. Honest to G_d I believe it! I know that’s you, but how … how can this be?”
Katie Bug offered no answers and Denise could find none, at least none the little bit of sanity she still clung to would tolerate. Eventually she reasoned that how this had happened was irrelevant. Whether it was witchcraft, a Biblical miracle, sun spots, or the will of one stubborn little girl who refused to die without living, it had happened. The child laying there before her proved that. What she didn’t know was why it happened now?
It was Katie’s adult body she’d seen wheeled in on the video. That was as undeniable as the child’s body she was looking at. This meant Katie her co-worker was dead, so it seemed unlikely her strength of will and that Irish stubbornness had anything to do with this … this … she hated to use the word, “miracle.”
It was much more likely an outside force was responsible. The short list on those included angels, witches, friendly spirits, fairy godmothers and the “Big Guy” himself. All of those were things that Denise hadn’t believed in since she wasn’t much older than the girl lying before her.
“Damn you, Bug!” she cursed. “You’re blowing my whole belief system out of the water with this, and if you can hear me, I bet you’re enjoying every minute of it, too.”
Denise smiled at the little girl who couldn’t see it, just to let her know she wasn’t really mad.
Denise ran down the list of suspects and scenarios that could be responsible for this miracle and in the end it didn’t really matter if it was Prue Halliwell from Charmed, Samantha from Bewitched, Glenda the Good Witch, or the long haired Galilean himself. The who fell into the same category as the how. It really didn’t matter.
Why did matter was why? Why would someone give her everything she wanted after the fact? What good would this body be to her if it was lifeless? Denise knew from the stories and chats that having the body was only part of her dream. It was the vehicle that was necessary in order for her to have the life she dreamed of. Giving her this body … even if her spirit could see it, was like giving a child a chocolate bar after they’d brushed their teeth before bed. All they could do was look at it, and wish they could have a bite.
No, assuming that some power gave Katie Bug the body of her dreams, surely it wouldn’t be so cruel as to never let her live to enjoy it. No entity she’d ever imagined could be that evil. Even old Pitchfork and Pointed Ears himself probably wouldn’t do that.
Denise looked up and down the dream body of her best friend and tried to sort this mystery out with what little sanity she had remaining.
“”Okay Bug … they wheeled your old body in and you were here all alone until Doctor Martinez came in and found you looking like a pint sized princess. Sometime during those … those … what was it he said? Oh yeah … eight minutes. Some time during those eight minutes this miracle occurred and the question is …. Were you ever awake to know it, to know your dream come true?”
Denise’s fingers gently squeezed Katie Bug’s lifeless but still barely warm hand.
“Warm … your hand’s still warm! Remember what the doctor said. You were still warm when he found you. It was as if … as if you had just died. That’s got to mean your body didn’t just change after you arrived here. You were warm because you were alive. You were alive for maybe eight minutes, and that means you knew, you knew your dream came true. I’m sure of it!”
Tears of joy fell from Denise’s eyes as she gazed at her friend. “You told me more than once that you’d trade the rest of the time you had left on this Earth to live for just a single day as a real little girl. I … I wonder, was it all worth it for eight minutes? Oh, Honey, I hope it was. I really do.”
The tears of joy changed to sadness as the reality of Katie Bug’s dream come true finally hit home. Yes, she’d gotten the body of her dreams. Finally her body and her soul were alignment, and yes, it was sad she’d only gotten it for eight minutes but that wasn’t the true tragedy. The cruelest twist of fate was that she’d spent those eight minutes alone and in a morgue. Could there possibly have been a worse place or way for her to spend an eight minute lifetime?”
Denise leaned forward and gently caressed the cheek of the little girl who only wanted to be her daughter.
“Oh Katie Bug, I’m so very sorry. You woke up and found your dream had finally come true. You must have been happy beyond anything I can imagine, but … then you realized you had no one to share it with. You must have been so terribly miserable and scared and … and … cold … oh so cold. Alone … you always hated being alone, and now you had to die a second time, and it was all alone. Eight minutes … you had eight minutes to live the life you always wanted. Eight minutes of being the real you.”
Denise looked around the cold, stark, lifeless, colorless lab that smelled of death and chemicals.
“Eight minutes that should have been heaven on Earth, and for you it must have been a hellacious nightmare. Oh my Bug … I’m so sorry. I wish I could have been here for you.”
Denise wiped her eyes and forced a smile. No, she hadn’t been there for those eight minutes Katie must have wanted and needed her most, but she’d been there after work almost every night for four years, and she knew both the woman and the child better than anyone. She knew what the little girl needed and wanted and wished for. She knew how Katie Bug wanted to grow up and she knew how she would have wanted to spend those eight minutes.
She looked lovingly in to the sleeping angel’s face. She didn’t know if somehow Katie could hear her. Hell, at this point wasn’t too sure what she knew anymore, but she was sure of one thing. She was going to give this little girl the eight minutes she always wanted and so deserved, or at least she was going to give it one hell of a try.
Denise brushed the curls from Katie Bug’s face and then started with a smile. “Okay … so we got eight minutes and we’re stuck in the morgue. That’s a tough order kid. You really don’t leave your mom much to work with, do you?”
Denise thought for a moment and then reached into her purse, eventually producing a brush.
“Well I know one thing for sure. We would’ve spent at least two minutes getting that wild mop of yours in order.”
Denise gently lifted Katie Bug’s head and began working the tangles out.
“You’ve got my hair, alright: somewhere between straight, curly and just plain barbed wire.”
Denise continued to work one side of Katie Bug’s hair while she took her free hand and fished deeper into her purse. “”I knew I had a pair of these in there.”
Denise smiled triumphantly as she produced a pair of light blue hair ties.
“These will work perfectly for what I have in mind, and I know you’re going to love it.”
Denise burned another thirty seconds of the eight minutes, but it was well spent as she put Katie Bug’s hair into a pair of two cute pigtails.
“You look adorable. You’re the best looking crumb snatcher in the joint,” she added with a giggle.
Denise glanced at her watch. “Well … I’d say we’ve burned almost three minutes on hair. You’re such a girl. So … what to do now?”
Denise frowned as she looked round the room. There was so much she knew Katie Bug had wanted to do, and yet none of it seemed possible from this ice prison. Denise however wasn’t going to let her friend be cheated.
“You know what, Bug? The hell with it! I’m going to take a page from your book. If you can’t beat reality, then ignore it and create your own.”
She took the little girl’s hand in hers. “C’mon … I’m going to fly you out of here. I’ll be Peter Pan, and as everyone knows, the best Peter Pans were always played by women.”
“I’ll be damned, you’ve got me again,” she said with a wry smile. “You were so sure that I was this good witch with magical powers, and what happens now? I end up promising to fly you out here like I had a broom with overdrive.”
Denise looked up toward the lights in the ceiling but was broadcasting far higher. “You’re enjoying every minute of this aren’t you?”
Denise shook her head and then closed her eyes. She was trying to focus on the five minute magical mystery tour she was about to take her short term daughter on.
“You’re better at this than I am. I’m the second rate poet and artist, you’re the first class story teller, but I’ll do my best.”
Denise released a heavy breath and then put the show on the road.
“First of all … five minutes just isn’t going to do it. Fortunately for you, my math has never been worth a damn, so if the total doesn’t measure out, blame it on the public school system. Now … what to do first?”
Denise looked down at the beautiful body covered by the cold blue plastic and immediately knew where the next few minutes would need to be spent.
“I’m allocating two minutes for clothing on a tour of Gymboree, Kid’s Gap and the Disney Store. Yeah I know what you’re thinking. We could spend two hours at each one of those stores, but we only need one outfit, and your Momma can power shop with a passion when she has to. Now you can go ahead and pick out something all lace and bows like you always wanted. You can go totally fairy tale princess with this outfit if you want to. You’re entitled to it and besides, since I won’t have to wash it, I don’t care how dirty you get it.”
Once the shopping was finished and Katie Bug properly dressed, Denise dreamed on.
“Now you’re all dressed and ready to go, but where do we go first? Hmmm … how about a quick trip to the park? I think we can squeeze in sixty seconds of swings, monkey bars, and slides. I know you’d like that.”
Denise tried to picture the scene in her head. She could hear the laughter and see the smile as Katie Bug ran from slide to swing to bars and back. And of course, Denise had to push the swing a few times.
Denise shook her head. “Damn Bug … all this sweet and sentimental is making me feel like June Cleaver! You’re going to ruin my reputation. However … considering the circumstances, I guess I can take a short break from being Mommy Dearest.”
“So after a minute or twenty of park play, where do we go now?”
Denise looked down at the lifeless body and she could almost hear her speak.
“Home? That figures! You want to go home and see all your sisters don’t you? Alright let’s allocate say … oh four minutes for a family reunion. We’ll walk in and I’ll tell the girls they have a new little sister. Knowing my girls, that means we should have one minute of loving hugs followed by three minutes of fighting like cats and dogs. Yep, nothing like a loving home, absolutely nothing like a loving home, but it’s what you want, isn’t it and you’ll have it.”
Denise rubbed her tummy. “Does all this traveling make you hungry? It does me. What say we load you and the rest of my tax deductions up and go get some pizza at Puchini’s?”
Denise could almost see Katie Bug smile. She knew how much both the adult and the little girl loved pizza, and there was no place she loved it more than at Puchini’s.
“So how about we allocate two minutes for pizza, breadsticks, and the clean up afterwards? Now, have you been keeping track of the minutes? Oh well, I always run over my allotments of minutes on my mobile, why should this be any different?”
Denise searched her memory of the stories Katie Bug had written and the long conversations that they’d had. The things that seem to thrill her friend the most, came from the stories that Denise shared about the activities she shared with her daughters. To Denise, they often seem mundane to the point of totally boring, but to Katie, they were pure gold. Denise decided to put together a quick medley of those.
“Okay, you’re dressed like a princess, hair up in pigtails, you’ve run the playground gauntlet, you’ve met your sisters and you’re stuffed with pizza, so what do we do now? We go back home and have a Gilmore Girls minute or two? We can turn off the lights and we can dance in the dark. You always wanted to do that. I can summon up a thunderstorm. I might as well, it’s all included in the Witch for a Minute program, and we can huddle together in my room, throw open the windows and watch the light show. Chocolate … oh yeah … we gotta have chocolate, plenty of chocolate. What else? Movies, Disney movies, and I know which one you want. It was Emily’s favorite, too. We will have the quickest screening of Little Mermaid ever. And games … I’ll drag them all out of the attic, but be warned, when it comes to Chutes and Ladders I don’t play fair.”
Denise sighed. “There’s so much to do, isn’t there? How do I squeeze it all into the eight minutes? There isn’t even time for one full day, and I want to give you a lifetime.”
Denise let a few sad thoughts and tears trickle in, “I don’t have time to let you poison me with your first Mother’s Day dinner, or to take you Trick or Treating, or to be there for your first school play or ball game, because I know there’s a tomboy with a mitt in her hand somewhere beneath all those lace and petticoats. No time for Christmases, no Sweet Sixteen parties, and no time for Grandma to spoil you rotten. Damn it! There just isn’t enough time.”
Denise wiped the tears from her eyes. She was right; Katie Bug didn’t have enough time for the joys and heartaches of growing up as a little girl. She’d been given eight minutes, and she’d been left alone with it. That was the undeniable reality, and all the fantasy trips Denise could give her now would never change that.
“Eight minutes … If we’d had eight minutes, I would have loved to do all these things for you and with you, but … I know the one thing you would’ve wanted most, more than clothes or pizza or games.”
Denise reached forward and gently gathered up the small child. She was a cold rag doll that the mother pulled to her breast. Denise held her close and rocked her.
“Always the hug monster. More than anything else, more than anytime else, you always seemed the most alive whenever you were being hugged. I saw it in your eyes and I felt it in your embrace. Eight minutes, and nothing would have made you happier than to have spent every second of it cuddled up against me, warm and safe and loved.”
Tears fell freely from Denise’s eyes as she did her best to give Katie Bug what she knew she’d wanted most. She gave her those eight minutes, and then added one more that that she knew would make it complete. It was something her friend had begged for as often as a hug. It was something all her girls loved when they were that age, and had yet to realize that their mother couldn’t carry a tune. Denise knew the right song, the only song it could be.
Her voice was hoarse with tears and she started out rough, but love carried the tune, even if she couldn’t. It was Part of Your World from the Little Mermaid.
“Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat?
Would you think my collection’s complete?
Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl.
The girl who has everything?
Look at the trove, treasures untold
How many treasures can one cavern hold?
Looking around here, you’d think
Sure, she’s got everything.
I’ve got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty
I’ve got who’s-its and what’s-it’s galore
You want thing-a-mabob?
I’ve got twenty
But who cares? No big deal. I want more.”
Denise’s voice trailed off. She wanted to give Katie Bug more, so much more, but as the tears choked her voice, she was afraid she couldn’t even finish the song.
She wiped her eyes, trying to pick up at least close to where she’d left of. She could imagine Katie hanging on every word and smiling wider than she was.
“What would I give if I could live
Outta these waters.
What would I pay to spend a day
Warm on the sand”
When’s it my turn?
Wouldn’t I love?
Love to explore the shore up above
Out … of … the sea
Wish ... I … could be
Part … of … that …. World”.
Tears made any more verses impossible, but they really weren’t necessary. The last few lines had said it all. All Katie had ever wanted was to be part of that world, the one that had always seemed just outside her reach.
Denise held her close and rocked.
“You know, if this was one of your stories, it would be time now for one of those sweet and sentimental happy endings you’re famous for.”
Denise pondered that thought for a moment.
“Let’s see now …. How would you write it? Hmmm … ‘The loving mother held the lifeless child to her breast … ummm … ample breast … and rocked her. She wished with all her heart that her little one would come back to her. She kissed the imp on her forehead and said a silent prayer that … that she would see the love and joy in those beautiful baby blue eyes once again. And … and then a miracle happened and … and … the child opened her eyes and smiled as she said, I love you Mummy.’
Denise pulled back from Katie, hoping to see the second miracle today come true, but the little one in her arms was still lifeless.
“I’m sorry, Katie Bug.” Denise apologized with tears in her eyes. “I guess I’m just not the story teller you are, and I guess there’s no happy ending here.”
Denise eased Katie Bug back down to the table as if she truly were a sleeping child and then kissed her gently on the forehead.
“I’m sorry I could have been here with you when you needed me most, and I know you were scared and lonely, but …”
Denise stopped mid-sentence when her attention was stolen by Katie Bug’s left hand, or more aptly, dark smudges on the fingertips.
“What’s this?” she asked as she took the small hand into hers.
Denise rubbed the dark coloring, and noticed that part of it had transferred to her own fingers. She raised it up to get a closer look and made a positive identification.
“Ink? Why on Earth would there be ink all over your fingers and …”
She checked the side of Katie Bug’s hand and found more black gold smudged along it.
Denise shook her head. It was too obvious.
“Left handers,” she shook her head and smiled. “They always run their hand across their writing, and it’s a total mess when a little left hander gets hold of an ink pen.”
“An ink pen!” she shouted and began looking around for the ink pen in question.
She hadn’t been sure what Katie had done for those magical eight minutes of hers, but now she knew at least one thing. Katie had been writing. The smudges on the left hand and fingers proved that. The question was … what had she written? A note? That would be the most obvious answer. Possibly a note to Denise to let her know that impossible dreams do come true sometimes.
Denise searched the cart and then the floor. Three feet away, and snuggled next to a file cabinet she found the ink pen. It was a leaker, and she didn’t need CSI to match up the smudges. This was the pen Katie had used to write the note, but where was the note?
As she searched the floor and anything she felt a girl three feet tall could reach, she thought more about the contents of the note. Katie tended to be a bit long winded in her writing and her speech. Her stories often wound into novel length. Could she possibly have said everything she wanted to say in eight minutes of writing? Was there time for her to convey how she must have felt? The incredible joy of a dream come true, but then the sadness of having no one to share it with, and the fear that must have came with the aloneness, and the cold … oh she had to be cold and Denise knew Katie hated the cold.
Ten minutes after beginning the search, she came up empty on the letter. Denise was heartbroken and frustrated. She searched her mind for clues, some place, some thing she must have missed.
Jorge hadn’t thought to mention the ink smudges on Katie Bug’s hands. The only thing he’d mentioned was, how warm she was and how she’d been lying on her stomach.
It hit her like the bright light that almost blinded her when she walked in. Katie was lying on her stomach. Her right hand propped under her head and her left hand dangling over the edge. Of course! She was lying on the cart when she wrote the letter. Her right hand had supported her head while her left hand did the writing.
Denise had looked under the cart and all around it, but there was no letter. She pulled back the blue plastic sheet and again there was no letter, just the nude body of a beautiful little girl. She started the lower the sheet down when she noticed something white and folded, tucked into the corner. Jorge had missed it when he had examined the body, and she’d missed it when she had pulled Katie into her arms.
Denise reached into the corner and pulled out a white piece of computer paper. Once she unfolded it, there was no longer a mystery of what Katie Bug had done with her eight minutes.
Denise’s hand’s trembled and her eyes misted as the message she hoped to find was not given in long flowing sentences, but something more appropriate for a girl Katie Bug’s age: a picture.
“Coloring,” she thought.
On her short list of eight minute activities she’d forgotten one that Katie cherished. She loved to color. She had waxed poetically several times that the only thing she wanted was a warm place on Denise’s living room floor, some blank paper in front of her, and some crayons to bring her dreams to life.
As Denise drank in the picture that Katie Bug had dedicated her eight minutes to, she knew the little one had accomplished her goal.
It was a masterpiece destined to hang at the greatest art gallery in the world: the center of the Denise’s refrigerator. There in black and white, as she didn’t have proper crayons to weave color magic was Katie Bug’s version of her dream come true.
The art was classic five year old. Fortunately, Denise was still fluent in that lost language and she understood perfectly.
The figures were barely more than stick figures, but each had been decorated with something that said who they were just as sure as if Katie had named them.
There were seven figures in the picture. The two largest stood holding hands in the middle. In true fairy tale fashion both were wearing crowns. The “King” was tall, lean, and sans any flowing locks. The “Queen” had big eyes, high heels, and a curvy line by where her bum would be. There was no doubt this was Jack and Denise.
The remaining five figures were all princesses. Two were on Jack’s side, and the three others were on Denise’s side. There was no doubt they represented Emily, Erin, Christina and Samantha.
The fifth and final princess was the smallest of the lot. Her hair was wiggly lines drawn into pigtails. Her eyes were big. Her smile was bigger, and she was reaching up to hold Denise’s hand.
A big round sun sent its warming rays down on the family group. Only one word was printed on the picture. Just four letters, but when Denise read them she knew it was the one word that symbolized everything that Katie Bug had ever wanted. No … it wasn’t LOVE, but that came naturally with the word she had printed.
The word was HOME. ‘Home’ was the one place Katie Bug had always wanted to be, because home was a safe, warm place where she was free to be herself and was surrounded by those who loved her most. HOME.
The word and the picture said it all and as Denise held the little artist’s labor of love in her hand a smile crept at her lips and along with it a great sense of relief.
She had been so worried about how miserable Katie had to be spending those eight minutes all alone, but now she realized her friend hadn’t truly been alone. She had spent those precious minutes creating a picture for Denise which removed all doubts.
Katie Bug hadn’t been sad, scared, alone or cold. When she woke and didn’t see her loved ones with her, she took pen in hand, opened her heart and then brought them out to be with her. She put herself into the picture, and in doing so; it was her way of letting Denise know that she wasn’t alone. She was letting her know that she knew she was loved and wanted, and a part of something beautiful, even before the final miracle gave her this body to make it complete. She had been Denise’s friend, even if she couldn’t be her daughter, and she’d been invited into her home and made to feel welcome and loved by all those there. From the day she’d shared her story with Denise, and touched her heart, she’d always been a part of the family. Now she was finally going to get to come home, and as long as Denise carried the picture and the memories in her heart, then Katie Bug would always be there.
Denise brushed away more tears from her cheeks, but most of them were happy. She took the picture, refolded it and put it in her handbag. She took one last look at the little girl who had so much wanted to her little girl. She’d made it physically for eight minutes, but she would be there spiritually for the rest of Denise’s life.
Denise kissed her forehead. Katie Bug’s last words to Denise at every parting were always, “I love you.” Sometimes Denise returned them, but most of the time she’d simply said, “I know.”
This time, this final physical parting, Katie Bug would hear the words she always wanted to hear.
“I love you,” Denise said sweetly and with all sincerity.
She turned and then walked through the swinging doors. She was quickly greeted by Dr. Martinez and Jack, who obviously couldn’t bear waiting for her call in the doctor’s office.
He was the first to reach Denise. He looked into her eyes, assessing her condition as if he were the one with the medical degree.
“Babe are you alright? I was starting to get worried. I almost came in.”
Denise smiled. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine now.”
He offered his arm to her whether she needed it or not and as always, she took it.
“About Katie?” Jorge interrupted the moment.
Denise turned her smile toward him. “There’s no doubt whatsoever that is Katie.”
Jorge gave her a puzzled look, but he could see she was absolutely serious.
“I’ll sign whatever documents you need me to sign. I’d also like to have her cremated after the vital organs have been harvested. You’ve been truly wonderful about everything and I appreciate your professionalism and ummm … discretion.”
He didn’t need his PHD to figure out what Denise was saying. Katie’s amazing transformation was something that would never be known beyond the two of them and the walls of the morgue. Who would believe them if they did tell anyone? He could make sure the body was cremated without question, and then give the ashes to Denise. No one would ever be the wiser.
The trio headed to the Coroner’s office to take care of the final paperwork. Denise eased her head onto Jack’s shoulder as they walked. Jack just couldn’t remain silent.
“Are you ever going to tell me what just happened?”
Denise smiled at Jack as they arrived at the office.
“Tonight after the girl’s have gone off to bed, I’ll sit down and tell you the whole story.”
Jack chuckled and rolled his eyes.
“Sounds like a long one.”
Denise shook her head as she squeezed her beloved’s hand.
“No … not really. It’s only eight minutes long, but it lasts forever.”
Jack wanted to say something in response, but didn’t have a clue how to answer a line like that, so discretion being the better part of valor, the King kissed his Queen and silently followed her into the office.
Hugs and love
Edited by Holly H Hart and shalimar
Comments
Oh, my
Maggie, this is simply beautiful. I don't normally like to start the day with tears filling my eyes, but I have to thank you for this. To call it "poignant" and "bittersweet" would hardly do it justice.
I may not be obsessed with it as Katie Bug was, but yes, I deeply regret not having been able to grow up as a girl and live all those experiences--not being able to be "part of that world," always having to be on the outside looking in--so I can definitely identify with those feelings and put myself in her place. And having a daughter of my own just past that age, who still loves to draw me pictures like that, I can just as easily put myself in Denise's shoes, so I've gotten it with both barrels--a double dose of poignant, bittersweet, and whatever other adjectives I'm missing that would adequately capture what you've done to me this morning.
Hugs,
justme
Thank you!
Thank you, thank you for that wonderful story. I cannot find the right words to describe how touching this story is to me.
Thank you,
M
Martina
Katie Bug
I said I wasn't going to cry, but I was wrong. Portia
Portia
Sob!
This story was very hard to read. I kept on losing the screen through my tears,
Joanne
Wishes and kisses
Thank you for 30 minutes of tears that I shed.
My life was devoid of those years too.
I grieve over them just the way Katie Bug did.
I wonder - will I get my eight minutes one day?
Truly heart wrenching.
Maggie, Without a doubt this
Maggie,
Without a doubt this is truly a sweet and lovely story. It had me in tears at the end. God does indeed work in strange and marvelous ways that we can not comprehend. Sad that it is fiction as there are so many whom this is about, me included. J-Lynn
Not the typical kitten tale
Thank you all for the comments. Please just send the bill to me on the Kleenex. I've been buying it bulk lately and get a great deal wholesale.
I have to tell you ... I was really apprehensive about how this story would be received. It's not all rainbows and sunshine and as much as I would have given anything to have had such an ending, my moose was having none of that.
My friend "Denise" is very much like the woman in the story. She's very much the pragmatist and keeps at least one foot in reality at all times. She appreciates the fantasy, even the sweet and sentimental version I dish out, but she is quick to remind me of the difference between fantasy and reality. And no matter how much you wish for some things, sometimes they never come or at least never come the way you hope. That was the inspiration for this story.
This story is my heart and a whisper in my ear from her.
Hugs and love Maggie the Kitten
astonishing
this is wonderful.
i wish i could vote for it a dozen times.
i'm gonna go outside and cry for a while, 'kay?
Eight Minutes?
Eight minutes can be enough to live a lifetime, after all.
I know in my heart that Katie Bug is at peace now, and
Denise has a new family heirloom that will pass through generations,
the original meaning lost perhaps, but the recipient always
knowing that it is a precious artifact nonetheless.
I never would have believed a life could be fully lived in so short
a time before I read this story.
I have to say, I wept nearly the whole way through.
Thank you Maggie for such a loving and special tale.
Hugs
Carla Ann
You Rock Maggie you did it
You Rock Maggie you did it again
I wish you enough Mickie
MICKIE
piza kitten delivery
done it again havent you magpie 8 minutes to a child is a lifetime and can be a lifetime of love for one who has lost it.
blinking well done as usual
biiiig hug and a UK snuggle
to hug is to be and to be is to be hugged
view the world through the eyes of a child and relearn the wonder and love
Allie elle loved and cared for and resident of the kids camp full time
to hug is to be and to be is to be hugged
view the world through the eyes of a child and relearn the wonder and love
Allie elle loved and cared for and resident of the kids camp full time
A Kitten Tale right from Kitten's mind, body and soul!
OH MY GOD Kitten, (Gosh just doesn't give this justice)
You have blown me away with this story and you owe me $40.00 for the tissues I went through! But, it was worth the cost because this story is off the charts!
This is such a unique style and the way you wrote this is with such feeling and emotion you've just taken all my breath away! My heart is alive and pulsing, my mind glowing, my body was shaking and more alive when I read this story.
TEN STARS and I'm adding rainbow glitter to your little wings Maggie!
I love you Kitten!
"Be Your-Self, So Easy to Say, So Hard to Live!"
Had to wait.
When I saw a new story by Maggie I knew that I would have to wait to read it. She tugs on my heartstrings so strongly that I almost always end up in tears. She pours so much heart and soul into these stories of hers that each one is a gift. This one perhaps more than the any of the ones before it is very moving and powerful. I don't know that I've ever experienced the naked longing that comes across so strongly from a narrator. First person maybe, but as told by someone else? To have your most precious dream if only for eight minutes is still a priceless gift as is this story you've gifted to us. Thank you Maggie.
huggles!
grover
Fantastic story
Really enjoyed the story, but had to read through the tears.
Rami
RAMI
Wow, just wow...
I could stop crying, I can't remember the last time I cried so hard. No one should be denied love nor a home. Every time I read the picture part, the tears just flow. Thank You Maggie, Holly and Shalimar for such a great piece. Thank You.
Bittersweet and Beautiful
I didn't forget this story. I've been waiting to find time to read it and I finally snuck it in. It's very late but I had to leave a comment. I always leave a comment after I read a story.
I too cried while reading this. How could anyone not cry?
I love the bittersweet ending. It matches my soul so well. *sigh*
What can happen in eight minutes? It depends on how you normally live your life and what you want most out of it. Katie Bug knew what she wanted and despite being in a morgue, she got it. She showed that everyone controls how they feel and react to their situation in life, and that's what matters most. We can all be passive passengers or active riders. The choice is ours. It's always been and always will be ours.
Thanks very much for this story. I hope you have many more like it and are able to scribble them all out to share with those that need it. :)
Monster hugs
- Terry
Katie Bug
Thank you for a lovely, lovely heartrending story.
Janet Baker
Wow, just wow. I can't
Wow, just wow. I can't remember any other time that I cried as I read a story. Maybe I'm just getting more emotional as I get older, but this story touched my heart and soul and I can't thank you enough for sharing it.
No one else can tell you best how to be yourself
No one else can tell you best how to be yourself
How can I love this story and hate it at the same time?
I love it because its beautiful, I hate it because its so sad. But thats where the beauty comes from, so I end up loving it again. Can I vote for it more than once?
Oh wow
What a wonderful story.
Perhaps one of the most powerful stories I have ever read.
Very few stories have ever reduced me to a puddle of tears like this one did.
Thanks
D
Repeat
I just read this story again after two years and was reduced to the same puddle as last time.
That was the most difficult and easy story to read.
There was no other end for it - there no good fairy to wave a magic wand.
That picture will be the most valuable thing Denise will ever have.
Repeat #2 DITTO!
The Kitten has a unique style all her own and I miss her and her writing! She is the queen of child speak, no other writer can match her when it comes to using child speak in a story.
Huggles
Angel
"Be Your-Self, So Easy to Say, So Hard to Live!"
"Be Your-Self, So Easy to Say, So Hard to Live!"
Tear Jerking
It is an amazing story bringing out more tears than I wish to admit.
What any of us would give for eight minutes, and Katie Bug got to spend it coloring. What a special gift. I am not sure if you cast your magic on your characters or your readers. Thanks.
Keep Smiling, Keep Writing
Teek