Bobby's Rainy Day Adventure: Chapter IX

Printer-friendly version
Synopsis:

It's a brand new morning for Bobby: a time for secrets to be revealed and sisterhood to be discovered. It's also a day for his father to return ... this time with the law on his side.

Story:

Bobby's Rainy Day Adventure
Copyright 2006 by Heather Rose Brown

CHAPTER IX

“Wake up, Bobby.”

I felt warm sunlight shining on my face. The sound of rain tapping on the window, which I'd fallen asleep to last night, had been replaced by birds chirping. “Is it morning already?”

“Yep, and breakfast is on the table.”

I cracked an eye open and saw Terri sitting on the bed beside me. “Whatcha doing in my room?”

Terri ruffled my hair. “Silly girl, this is Cori‘s bedroom.”

I opened my other eye and looked around. There definitely was a lot more pink than I’d ever seen in my bedroom before, but I had something else on my mind besides the room color. “Terri, there’s something I think you aughta know.”

"What’s that, Bobby?”

“I ain’t really a girl.”

Terri nodded. “Cori explained it to me last night when we were having hot cocoa in the hospital cafeteria. To be honest, I was having trouble believing her. I even double-checked with my mom this morning.”

I suddenly felt more awake when I remembered a conversation I’d had with Aunt Joan right before I’d seen my mom in the hospital. “What’d she tell you?”

“Not a whole lot, but she did say you feel like you’re a girl.”

I pulled the covers over my head to hide the blush warming my cheeks.

“Hey! No going back to bed, sleepyhead.” Terri yanked the covers away from my face.

“I wasn’t going back to bed. I just ... I wish Aunt Joan hadn’t told you that.”

Terri frowned with confusion. "Why's that?"

"'Cause now you're gonna think I'm weird."

Her frown turned into a soft smile. “I don't think you're weird, Bobby. In fact, knowing how you feel makes things a little simpler.”

“How’s it simpler?”

“Well, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but ... everything about you seems to say, 'girl.' "

"You mean like the way my hair looks and the clothes I'm wearing?"

Terri brushed the tangled hair from my face. "Well, your hair is a little long, but I've seen boys with longer hair before." She pulled the cover down enough to see the picture of Hello Kitty on my chest. "As far as you wearing girl clothes, they look cute, but they're just clothes."

"I don't understand. If it ain't the clothes or hair, then what's making me look like a girl?"

"There's more to being a girl than looks. Even if you were dressed like a boy, there's still this ... something about the way you act and the way you are with other people. It's like, you don't seem like a boy who's pretending to be a girl. You just -- I dunno -- seem like a girl."

"I've always tried to be careful to act like a boy." My father had made sure of that. Some days it seemed as if every time I turned around, he was telling me to stop acting like a girl. "Am I really that girly?"

Terri paused for a moment and scratched her chin. "From what I've seen so far, I'd say you're not quite as girly as Cori, but you're not as much of a tomboy as I used to be either."

"Are you still a tomboy?"

Terri chuckled. "I don't dress as much like a boy any more, but on the inside -- I think I'll always be a tomboy."

"Did you dress like a boy 'cause you felt like one?"

"I don't think anybody ever asked me that before." Terri was still smiling, but the look in her eyes had become more serious. "There had been a time when I felt jealous of boys. They seemed to have all the advantages and got to do things I wasn't supposed to be interested in doing. But I don't think I ever actually felt like I was a boy."

I tried to imagine what Terri looked like dressed as a boy and was wondering if I was really that much different from her when she nudged me in the shoulder. "You're not falling asleep on me, are you?"

I blinked my eyes back open, feeling surprised at how they had slid closed so easily without me being aware of it. "Kinda. I was up pretty late last night."

Terri covered her mouth, but it didn't hide her huge yawn very well. "I hear ya, kid. Let's get out of here before we both wind up snoring. You need to change first?"

"I guess I should get ready for school."

Terri shook her head. "I wasn't talking about clothes; I meant your Goodnites."

I slowly realized why my underpants had seemed thick. My blush came back and spread across my face until my ears were burning. "Oh, umm ... no, I don't think I need to change." I didn't feel wet and there wasn't any smell, so I was pretty sure I was okay.

"All righty!" Terri reached under my covers, lifted me out of bed, and sat me on her hip.

"Wait a minute; I can walk on my own."

"Mom would kill me if I let you try walking with that sprained ankle."

I moved my foot around. It didn't hurt as much as last night, but it was still tender. "I can still walk. Aunt Joan found me a crutch she said I could borrow." Considering the main color of the Cori's bedroom, I was surprised how quickly I found the bright pink armrest of the crutch peeking up over the footboard of the canopy bed. "See, it's right over there."

Terri giggled. "By the time you got to the table using that, it'd be lunch time." She wrapped her arm around my bottom and shifted me higher on her hip before picking up the crutch with her free hand.

Even though it felt a little odd being carried around, it also felt nice too. There was something about the way Terri held me that made me feel safe and protected. Being this close to her, I was surrounded by a light, sweet scent that reminded me a bit of peaches and cinnamon. When I leaned my head on her shoulder, there was something that felt so right and peaceful about it, I couldn't help smiling.

Terri's smile turned into a lopsided grin as she looked down at me. "You seem pretty determined to fall asleep on me." She nuzzled my nose with hers, making me giggle. "Let's see if we can get some breakfast in you before you do."

* * * * *

We were just coming out of the hallway when I noticed the distant rumble of a car engine. Cori ran out of the kitchen shouting, "Daddy's here!"

Aunt Joan followed her daughter out of the kitchen at a much slower pace. "He's not supposed to be here until Friday, Cori."

Cori had reached the living room window and was peeking outside from behind a curtain. "Well, somebody's here. There's a police car in the driveway and a couple of people just came out of it."

Aunt Joan had already walked past Terri and me when there was a sharp rapping at the front door. "Cori, get away from the window. It's not polite to stare at people." As she climbed down the stairs, she shouted, "Hold on, I'll be right there."

Cori dropped the curtain and thumped down the stairs until she was just a step behind her mom. Terri was carrying me down the stairs when Aunt Joan opened the door. The breeze drifting through the doorway brought the sweet scent of damp leaves and the dry, dead smell of car fumes. When we reached the bottom of the steps, I saw a police officer standing just outside the door beside ... my father!

"Good morning, ma'am. I'm Officer Hernandez and this is Mister Brighton. I apologize for calling on you so early in the morning." The police officer was shifting a folded bundle of papers from one hand to the other.

Aunt Joan tightened the sash on her bathrobe. "Not a problem at all. You must be freezing standing out there. Would you like to come in? I just made a fresh pot of coffee."

"I appreciate the offer, but we won't be able to stay." The police officer handed the papers she had been holding to Aunt Joan. "Mister Brighton is here to pick up his son, Bobby."

A chill ran through me that had little to do with the cool air drifting in through the doorway. "What if I don't wanna go?"

Officer Hernandez looked at me and her eyebrows popped up with surprise. "You're Bobby?"

When I nodded, she turned to Aunt Joan. "Could I take a look at those papers, ma'am?"

After Aunt Joan returned the papers, the police officer frowned as she flipped through them. When Officer Hernandez reached a page in the middle of the stack, she carefully folded it at the corner where the sheets were stapled together. "I think we may have a problem here." She pulled a palmtop from its holster on her belt, extended its short antenna, and began tapping on the screen. "Yes, we definitely have a problem." She put the palmtop back, folded up the papers, and looked up at my father. "We'll need to go back to the station to straighten this out, sir."

"Go back?" My father scratched at the stubble on his cheek. "I just spent four hours there. Why do we need to go back?"

"Because this paperwork says we're here to pick up your son, not your daughter."

My father closed his bloodshot eyes and rubbed his temples. "Are you saying I can't take my son home because you think he's my daughter?"

"I'm not saying anything like that, Mister Brighton." Officer Hernandez held the papers out to my father. "What I am saying is this warrant, or whatever you want to call this pile of ..." She glanced at me before looking back at my father. "... of paperwork, is already on shaky legal grounds. Until we get this straightened out, I can't let you take your daughter home with you."

My father swung at the papers, knocking them from the police officer's hand. "Then to hell with all this legal crap." He reached past Aunt Joan and grabbed me by the waist. "Let's go, Bobby."

"No!" I was almost as surprised to hear myself screech as I was by my father's sudden move.

Terri, who was still holding onto me, swung the crutch she was carrying at my father. "Let go of her!"

Officer Hernandez moved almost too quickly to see. Before you could blink, she was standing between Terri and my father with one hand on his chest and the other holding the crutch in mid-air. "Up until now, we've just had a misunderstanding. If this goes any further, it could become assault." She turned to my father. "First, I'd like you to let go of Bobby and take a step back."

Even though he still seemed angry, my father also looked surprised and then confused. "But. . . ."

"Mister Brighton, this can go two ways. Either you let go of her now and ride in the front with me to the station, or you can ride in the back wearing handcuffs." While I couldn't see her expression, her voice didn't sound very happy. The places where my father's ice-cold hands had wrapped around my waist felt sore when he finally let go. After he took a step back, the police officer turned to Terri. "Now I'd like you to let go of the crutch."

Terri yanked her hand away from the crutch as if were burning hot and wrapped both of her arms around me. "I'm ... I'm so sorry. I just ... I don't know why I just did that."

The police officer nodded as she handed the crutch to Aunt Joan. "I understand. These kinds of domestic situations can get heated pretty quickly." She turned to my father. "Please go back to the squad car, Mister Brighton. I'll be there in a moment."

My father opened his mouth as if to speak, paused, and snapped it shut. He seemed more like a kid than an adult when he turned, stomped over to the car, climbed into the passenger side, and then slammed the door.

Officer Hernandez looked down at the paperwork that had fallen on the damp steps before she picked it up by its stapled corner and shook out a few drops of water. "Looks like these will have to be typed all over again." Although she didn't smile, there was laughter in her eyes. "I'm sure Mister Brighton will be happy about that."

"Will I have to go with him when you get it fixed?" My throat felt so tight with all the emotions I was feeling, my questions came out in a squeak.

"No you don't, not so long as I'm wearing a badge. He didn't make many friends this morning, and I doubt his lawyer will have any more tricks up his sleeve once I turn in my report." Officer Hernandez tipped her hat to us. "Sorry for the disturbance, ladies. Hope the rest of your morning is pleasant."

* * * * *

Aunt Joan closed and locked the front door after the police car pulled out of the driveway. Everyone was very quiet when we climbed the stairs and shuffled into the dining room. I was so glad Terri was still carrying me, because my legs probably wouldn't have held me just then, even if my ankle hadn't been hurt.

The bacon and eggs smelled wonderful when Terri sat me down at the table, but I didn't think I could eat with the huge knot I felt in my stomach.

"You want me to heat that up for you, Bobby?" I looked up and saw Aunt Joan holding her hand out across the table.

"No thanks, Aunt Joan. I really ain't hungry right now."

"What's wrong, Bobby?" Cori was poking the corner of her toast into an egg yolk, but she seemed more interested in playing with her food than eating it.

"I’m just feeling mixed up about a couple of things, like why I lied to the police officer."

"You didn't lie."

"I feel like I did."

Cori gave up poking at her eggs and dropped her toast on her plate. "So what do you think you lied about?

"Well, I let her think I'm a girl."

"Are you?"

"I ... I'm not sure how to answer that. I mean, on the inside I feel like a girl. But who pays attention to what's on the inside?"

Aunt Joan pulled her hand back. "More people than you may realize, sweetie."

I was having trouble believing anybody would be able to understand me. Even to me, it seemed hard to believe the feelings I had inside could be real. "I hope you're right, Aunt Joan. At least, I hope you're right about the police officer. I dunno if I wanna wind up havin' to live with my father 'cause they think I'm a boy."

"I have a feeling, considering your fathers behavior this morning, they won't be sending you to him, even if they decided you were a boy." Aunt Joan rested her hand on her chin and leaned a little closer to me. "So what else were you feeling mixed up about?"

"Well, there's my father."

"I guess things were difficult after he left."

I nodded. "I missed him so much over the summer. I dunno how many mornings I sat at my bedroom window, waiting for his truck to pull back into the driveway. Now that he's back, all I want is for him to do is go away; at the same time, I still miss him and want to be with him."

Terri stopped stabbing at the bacon on her plate, but didn't look up when she spoke. "I used to feel like that about my dad too. Sometimes fathers can be so. . . ." She sounded both angry and sad. "I'm sorry. I don't want to ruin everyone's breakfast."

Aunt Joan got up from her seat, crouched down beside Terri and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "It's okay, love. This has been an emotional morning for everyone. Was there something you'd like to talk about?"

"That's okay." Terri was smiling when she looked up, but her eyes were brimming with tears. "I'm just ... being hormonal again. I'd better start getting dressed for school." Even though she was the only one at the table who wasn't still in her bedclothes, nobody argued with Terri when she stood up and wandered out of the dining room.

Aunt Joan sighed after Terri left the room. "I better go see if she needs any help."

I turned to Cori after Aunt Joan left. "Is your sister gonna be okay?"

Cori shook her head. "I dunno. I ain't seen her like this since our parents first broke up. She used to be really mad at our dad. Sometimes I get the feeling she still is."

"I think I can understand how she feels."

"You're mad at your dad?"

"Well, yeah. He just disappeared without saying goodbye or anything."

Cori laid her hand on my bunched up fist. "That musta really hurt."

I nodded, feeling the tightness in my stomach climb into my chest. "I guess he was mad at me first ... not that I can blame him."

"What was he mad about?"

"Well, we were having dinner and I was talking about what I wanted to do over the summer when he asked me if I was ready to see the barber in the morning. I pretty much just said no."

"So he got mad at you for saying no?"

"Nah, he just laughed and said that I'd better be ready by morning. I really hated getting my haircut and the barber he always brought me to was a little creepy, so I tried asking my mom if I really had to go. That kinda made him mad, but nothing like when she took my side and said maybe I was old enough to have more say in how I look."

"What your mom said makes sense. You're plenty old enough to say how you want your hair to look."

"I guess it didn't make a whole lotta sense to him. I got sent to bed just about then, but it wasn't too hard to hear them from my room with the way they'd started yelling."

"Had you ever heard your parents arguing before?"

"Yeah, a couple of times, but never anything like that night." The ache in my chest reached up to my throat, making it hard to speak. "If only I'd kept my mouth shut about that stupid haircut. . . ."

Cori got up, came over to me and wrapped her arms around me. It didn't take long before I found myself crying on her shoulder. After all the tears from the night before, I didn't really expect to have any more left in me. By the time I was done, my nose was running, so I pulled back from Cori and wiped it on the back of my hand.

"Eww, don't wipe your nose like that, Bobby." Cori ran into the kitchen, tore a couple of sheets of paper towels from the holder by the sink and brought them back to me. After wiping the back of my hand with one towel, she held another one up to my face. "Go ahead and blow your nose."

I couldn't help smiling when I blew my nose into the paper towel. "Are we playing 'Mommy and Baby' again?"

Cori giggled. "I think this is more like 'Big Sister, Little Sister.' "

"How's that?"

"I guess it reminds me of how Terri used to be whenever I'd get a runny nose when I was little. She would get so grossed out at the way I used to wipe my nose on my sleeve. Even now, she still chases after me with a box of tissues if she finds out I have a cold or my nose is running."

"You're so lucky to have a big sister. Sometimes it feels pretty lonely being an only child."

"There's times when I've wished I was an only child, especially when Terri's being bossy. But even when she's at her worst, I still love her. Most of the time, I'm glad she's my sister." Cori was very quiet for a few seconds. "I was just wondering ... how would you feel about being sisters?"

"You mean you and me?"

Cori nodded and a huge smile spread across her face.

It took me a moment to work that out. "Wouldn't we need the same parents ... and wouldn't I need to be a girl first?"

"With the way you call my mom 'Aunt Joan', you're practically a cousin already. As far as the girl part goes, I thought you felt like you were a girl."

I couldn't help groaning. "I can‘t believe I just came out and said that."

"I don't think it's a real secret, Bobby. I kinda got the feeling something like that was going on when I saw you at school yesterday." Cori took both of my hands in hers. "But, getting back to my question, how would you feel about being my little sister?"

"Wait a minute; you didn't say anything about me being the little sister."

Cori grinned. "Maybe not, but you have to admit it does make sense."

"How do you figure that? After all, I am older."

"Well, you may be older, but I been a girl a lot longer."

"Oh ... I hadn't thought of it like that."

"So, what do you think about being sisters?"

I was starting to learn that once Cori got an idea in her head, she never let it go. I was also learning that along with being playful and bouncy, she could be serious too. She seemed very serious about being my sister.

The idea sounded impossible. How could two kids just decide they're related? At the same time, Cori felt like more than a friend. I'd had a couple of friends at my old school, but I felt closer to her in just one day than I'd ever felt with any of them. "I'd really like to have you for a sister ... but how do we do it?"

Aunt Joan came into the room just then and began gathering the plates and silverware. "Okay, time to start getting ready for school."

Cori leaned close to me, her voice just above a whisper so her mom wouldn't hear. "I'll hafta explain it to you later."

When I got up to follow Cori, Aunt Joan set the breakfast dishes she had been collecting back on the table and put a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to get dressed for school, sweetie. The doctor said you should stay off your foot for at least a day."

I vaguely remembered being told something about staying off my foot and keeping it up, but the trip to the hospital felt like a million years ago. "Oh, I'd forgotten about that."

"That's understandable, Bobby. You've had a stressful start to your morning. Why don't you go lie down on the couch in the living room and prop your foot up on a pillow? I'll be in there with an ice pack and some covers after I finish with these dishes."

After finding a comfortable position on the couch and carefully shoving a few pillows under my right foot, I picked up the remote and began flipping through channels. Nothing I saw held my interest for long; I was too busy worrying about my dad coming back for me. On top of that, there was the mystery with Cori. What was so secret that she couldn't tell me when her mom had come in?

Notes:

Readers, Please Remember to Leave a Comment

Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.

up
224 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Daddy and the Law -- Scary

Daphne Xu's picture

The teaser introduction was quite scary. Dad comes with a rushed warrant and the police to pick up his son. (It's only the day after Dad met his son at the hospital.)

"Until we get this straightened out, I can't let you take your daughter home with you." So it gets "straightened out" based on the misunderstanding at the hospital and Bobby's inability to correct it.

"The police officer nodded as she handed the crutch to Aunt Joan. `I understand. These kinds of domestic situations can get heated pretty quickly.'" That's one reason why social workers rather than police should be sent in these situations. The police might escalate the situation even to the point of shooting.

"You didn't lie." "I feel like I did." "So what do you think you lied about?" "Well, I let her think I'm a girl." Actual lying to a police officer about her business at hand is a crime. But freezing up and remaining still is not.

"Now that he's back, all I want is for him to do is go away; at the same time, I still miss him and want to be with him." Oh so true.

"What was so secret that she couldn't tell me when her mom had come in?" How Bobby and Cori could become sisters, perhaps?

-- Daphne Xu

-- Try saying freefloating three times rapidly.

My Own Pet Peeves

Daphne Xu's picture

IIRC, they aren't in this story. "Ain't" isn't one of my pet peeves.

One is "tounge" for tongue. That's an unambiguous peeve.

Seeing loose for lose is just as annoying, but I keep trying to tell myself it's not so bad. I wrote in an earlier blog entry, "Rose-with-the-Nose chose her clothes and hose, only to lose them." The major problem may be that "loose" is a different word. I may write "looze" for "lose" in one of my stories.

-- Daphne Xu

-- Try saying freefloating three times rapidly.

Looking for nice gentlemen

Glenda98's picture

From the mention of nice gentleman in one of the comments maybe grandparents would work? Keep up the good work!

Glenda Ericsson

Bobby has very mixed feelings about his dad.

Even though he's gone through some really awful experiences with his dad, he still loves and misses him. Even though it's been years since I originally wrote this story, I still sometimes wonder if things could be turned around, and their relationship could be salvaged. If I ever figure out an answer to that, I may try writing a story, or maybe an epilog, based on that answer.

A wonderful addition

to this suspense filled drama. The characters are developing so well that I can almost see them as I read.

I certainly hope that Officer Hernandez is right about the result of her report, in that daddy because of his anger has killed any chance of him getting custody of Bobby. We can only hope. I do still wonder why his reaction to Bobby in a dress is so violent, what's he hiding, or hiding from?

Again an excellent story and a pleasure to read.

Thank you Heather.

Hugs & Giggles
Penny

Ain't it amazing ...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... how a little word like ain't can read like chalk on a blackboard sounds or like cigarette smoke smells? I love this story, but those ain'ts are driving me crazy.

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

Ain't That A Shame?

Are you saying Bobby’s Adventure has an ain’t taint?

It’s not that Bobby isn’t dain’ty enough, is it? Say it isn’t so or I shall surely fain’t

Having we bain’t over backward enough to please even a sain’t like you?

Cain’t we find some way to make everything better? Have we pain’ted ourselves into a corner?

Or, are you just being quain’t?

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

A pleasant surprise once more

A pleasant surprise once more, seeing another part of Bobby's adventure.
But something tells me we haven't see the last of Mr. Brighton.

As for ain't, though still ocnsidered slang, it is in several dictionaries, and it is commonly used by children. I think Bobby and Cori qualify, don't they?

The last time I had a English teacher object to it was my Junior year in high school, and that was a long, long time ago.

One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.

Holly

(It) Ain't Miss Behavin' ?

The use of "ain't" here isn't particularly implausible, I suppose; in any case, Heather certainly is the authority on what her characters sound like.

But I'm having (I think) the same reaction as Jezzi, sort of half-cringing every time I read it.

I'm wondering if part of the problem is that it doesn't sound very feminine; it seems like something that Terri would be trying to correct the two of them on, even if Joan didn't much care yet.

Eric

Ain't , again

Jezzi Stewart's picture

I taught 7th and 8th grade in the chicago area for 37 years, retiring 3 years ago. I still go in to sub several days a week. I can't remember the last time I heard a student, even in overheard peer conversation, use "ain't", although that may be because of location and I certainly can't speak for the rest of the country. Now "fuck", unfortunately ...

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

Location, location, location

erin's picture

I'll quote a guy I heard at New Comiskey Park, "Nort'siduzz jes' doan geddit." :)

I trust you taught closer to Wrigley Field or far enough South people don't say "dese, dem and dose odduzz ovadeh." Ten years ago, my last visit to Chicago, ain't was alive and well on the Southside. Of course, white Southsiders mostly pronounced it "ent." :)

- Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

Check out my ...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... "A Matter of Trust" in Gwen and my "Feminized Male Theatre: Brides" (Worth donating for !!) I had fun reading it outloud to my Twilight Tales writers group. Although I mention the setting as "Joisey", it could be Shakawgo- nort side. :-)

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

Sling, slang, slung

erin's picture

Ain't is not slang and really hasn't been slang since there's been a recognized English language. Ain't is currently non-standard usage, but that's not the same thing as slang. There have been times in the past when ain't was perfectly standard and in some dialects of English, it is part of the dialect standard today.

In the U.S., you hear it more among rural populations, some urban black populations and in casual speech nearly all over the South, perhaps less so now than 30 years ago but it is still there.

I'm astonished that its use in dialogue in a story has provoked this level of discussion. It's a real word, not slang, and it is in current use and has been in continuous use since the great vowel shift or before. Ain't no big thing. :)

- Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

Not a bad little story.

Not a bad little story. I am not into the fetish parts and actually they seem out of place in a serious transsexual story, but I just skip over those parts.

The part about Cori and Bobby becoming sisters is sweet. I meet someone on the internet about two years ago and our friendship has grown to the point where we now call each other sisters. The love that has grown between us is more than just friendship, it is the love that sisters have for each other.

I'm feeling inspired ...

... to try writing a story containing no slang. This might be a bit of a challenge, since I tend to naturally slip into slang if I'm not paying attention to what I'm doing. I can communicate properly, but when I'm having a casual conversation, slang feels more comfortable. It's a little like an old sweater that's frayed at the edges, but it's too comfy and familiar to toss out and replace with something that looks decent.

I think I can understand how the choice of words could make the characters seem less feminine. After all, stories are composed of words, so the words someone uses would have more of an impact here than if you saw someone using slang in real life. In real life, you can see someone's body language, hear the way someone speaks, and get other cues that would balance out the actual words someone uses, giving a more rounded view of how masculine of feminine someone might be.

One thing I thought I'd mention is that none of the characters are extremely feminine. In the first chapter of this story, it mentions how Aunt Joan looked "like a lumberjack with green and black flannel shirt and sturdy jeans" ... not especially feminine. Terri is a recovering tomboy. Even Cori does things that might not be considered feminine, like when she thumped down the steps near the beginning of this chapter.

I think the biggest influence on what makes someone feminine is my mother. Having been the older of two girls growing up with six brothers, she couldn't exactly be dainty around them. Yet somehow, even when she's doing things that might be seen as masculine, her inner feminity never seems to waver. Although it's been challenging, I've tried reflecting that combination of strength and grace in my female characters.

As far as male characters go ... well, there's only been one main character (well there was a nice older gentleman who'd offered his seat to Aunt Joan in the hospital, but he was only mentioned briefly), who's turning more and more into a villian. To any gentlemen out there reading this story, please accept my apologies. Although it's a relativly recent discovery, I've learned that there are many wonderful men out there in the world. If the opportunity presents itself, I'm hoping to include a character who better displays the positive aspects of what it means to be a man.

Towards the end of this story, I'm planning to reveal what's behind the father's reaction to Bobby. While there's no acceptable excuse for his actions, there is a reason for it. Although his actions may not seem to show it, the father does love Bobby and is deeply concerned about what he believes is being done to his child.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Heather Rose Brown
Author of Bobby's Rainy Day Adventure

Fetish??

Although I'm not the author, I do have a bit invested in this story as editor. The editing process demands that I try to get inside the author's head. I've found this task to be a pleasant experience. Everything about Heather's mind is trim and shipshape. She is a kind and gentle person whose faults run toward being too nice and too eager to please.

There are two possibilities that could label Bobby as a fetisher: cross-dressing and the wearing of diapers.

I'll address diapers first as there have been several comments on that topic both here and on FM.

The use of diapers in "Bobby" is a reflection of bedwetting as part of the childhood experience. It is a common problem for children, that can be a by product of emotional trauma.

Intolerance is also a common problem.

Bobby's new "family" is filled with acceptance and love. They're not perfect. No one is. Instead of casting stones they're reaching out to one another.

The use of bedwetting is a wonderful way for Heather to demonstrate their pragmatic approach to problem-solving. It also is a very quick method for Cori and Bobby to bond over a common affliction.

A fetishers approach to cross-dressing is based in sexual pleasure. There has been little, if any, indication that Bobby is experiencing anything sexual.

Diaper stories and clothing-as-a-fetish-stories have their place, but "Bobby's" "ain't" one of them, at least to this point.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

I agree. ...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... If this were meant to be a diaper fetish story, I don't think Heather would have Bobbie in Goodnights. Cloth super thick diapers would be used with attention being paid to the look of the pins, rubber/plastic pants, etc. and the process of diapering with the putting on of baby oil and powdering, etc. She would write it as a much more sensual and/or humiliating experience as opposed to a utilitarian one. To me, in regard to diapers, this is the antithesis of a fetish story. (A good thing in this case, I believe)

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

Of dialects and diapers.

Another great chapter, Heather. This story, which I thought at the beginning was going to be a sweet little romp, has turned into much more, much deeper. I feel tricked and I'm glad you did.

When I read "ain't" in your story it does jar, but any use of dialect does (it is not the letter patterns we are use to). However, I see it as an attempt to convey the message that it is a child speaking (she spoke as a child; ergo she thought as a child and acted as a child) and that is important. If someone had a child say "It is just a complete impossibility" that would jar me much more.

I'm always dropping first sounds in child speak and I tell you those three little lines at the beginning of "'Cuz" bug me, but I do it because the sound is right to my ear.

The people who confuse this story with an AB story should look around some. This is a common problem; I think more common among sensitive children living difficult lives (Bobby and Cori both qualify). Don't over react to it, as Aunt Joan hasn't.

Walk in light
Jan

Liberty is more than the freedom to be just like you.

Jar, bottle, flask - bag, sack, poke

erin's picture

Dialect used in a story is supposed to jar. It's supposed to provide a sense of personal experience, location and/or culture that may be foreign to some readers. It's supposed to take us out of ourselves and let us experience what it would be like to live somewhere else, be someone else, talk somehow differently.

All dialog is actually written in dialect, it's just if it's our own dialect, we don't notice it. :)

- Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

I love this one!

Every chapter has had its surprises. Like here dad turning up with a policewoman. Dad seems to be oddly determined to get his son back even though he must by now know that his son isn't a "man's man" but rather a sissy (in his eyes anyway). It might be nice to read something from his feelings - I mean he still is dad whatever happens. Hopefully mom will be better soon so she can take up the battle as legal action seems propable.

And among all the "scary parts" there is small Bobby trying to understand himself / herself.

Can't even say that the lanquage gave me "raised eyebrows" - but I am not native to English. Then again I have read lots of stories with much more "type-o´s" than this one.

Well written and very enjoyable. My only wish is for the next chapter to be here soon!

Language & Behavior

I'm feeling compelled to comment on several things here. First, the language. I'm from the south-central part of the U.S. and "ain't" is quite common in general conversation, even among well-educated people. Even some university professors I know use words such as "ain't" when relaxing among friends. It's local dialect, and I doubt anybody is offended. For those who are familiar with Maddy Bell's Drew/Gaby series, there is a lot of dialect & slang used in it. Perhaps to those that aren't used to the way people in various parts of Great Britian speak, it's not obvious, but I lived over there and I noticed it right away. It makes those stories seem more "real" to me.

Second: I wasn't aware of any fetish complaints about this series, I've only read it here on BC, FM has become my website of last resort. (Missed them here, also, guess I haven't read all the comments.) I had problems as a child (I'm an adult survivor of Cystic Fibrosis) and I can remember wearing diapers from time to time well into grade school. Nothing like the fancy things available today, I'm talking about the old fashioned cotton & safety pin type. It was embarassing, but I really had no choice. An adult not experiencing incontinence problems wearing diapers is a fetish. A child wearing them to control bladder or bowel problems (for whatever reason) is simply a child having problems. I find I agree with Angela and Erin on this, or, to paraphrase: "Sometimes a diaper is just a diaper".

All in all, I have enjoyed the series, and look forward to more.

Karen J.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

My Apologies

My Apologies:

There are fetish items in the story that I see, but I am guessing that it was just a coincident. One is the wetting thing, another is the nappy thing (which is not necessary for a bed wetter), and then treating Bobby as a little baby when he is older than Cori. These are often used in fetish stories and there are people who indulge in these fetish items.

An adult talking babyish to a small child seemed a bit strange, but I just try to skip over what I thought, wrongly so I guess, as the fetish things. I was more interested in how transsexualism was handled in a small child than any thing else. While we have come a long way in accepting transsexualism, I believe we have a long way to go.

Again, my apologies.

Keep it up

Nice story