The Ambassador - Part 2

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by andrea dimaggio


Part Two - Conventional Wisdom


Previously, the Kanakaredes home, Fairport, New York...

“I …this doesn’t seem right…I’m not sure…” He held up the contents of the bag; a package of flesh colored tights and a pair of thong panties; the color of which nearly matching the red of his face. Olympia stepped closer, holding out one of the garment bags.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She unzipped the bag partially, revealing a very soft shiny pewter-colored gown.

“I’m sure this will do nicely, but you’re welcome to try on the other ones as well. After all, we’re all girls here, Callie.” Olympia looked over at her daughter and back at Caleb before smiling and winking.


“Can I watch?” Sia sat on the bed while the boy stood in the middle of the room. The robe had slipped open and revealed a tallish if thin looking teen. Caleb looked down and then up at Sia and shook his head; more over the odd feeling than any refusal. His face grew red and hot as he gazed at his best friend. Sia noticed and hopped off the bed. He shied away until she gently reached over and closed the robe, pulling the draw strings together and looping them in a loose knot. He looked into her eyes and saw tears that mirrored his own awkward shame.

“I am so sorry.” She kissed him on the cheek and ushered the boy gently into the bathroom.

“I never meant to embarrass you. We’ve known each other like forever, and I only wanted to help you.” When you come out, I’ll know how best to help, okay?” She pointed to his ‘boy’ stuff lying on the hamper by the sink.

“Put on what feels right and we’ll go from there, okay?” She kissed him once again and he looked, not at her, but down, where he saw nothing, which made him feel both safe and sad at the same time.

“I’m going to go talk to my Mom. We’ll be out in the living room. Shout if you need help, but don’t do anything you feel bad about. It’s about you and what you need right now.” Sia spoke years above her grade level; most of the time she hid her sensitivity and care behind a mask of insecurity and silliness. But at home, in her place of safety with her mom and sisters, she felt confident and at peace, and the real girl would come out in sweet and glorious ways that belied the Gothy geek she projected outside.

“Sia?” A soft voice came from the bathroom.

“Yes?” She sighed and drew an anxious breath, wondering what the boy’s choice would be.

“Can you….would you and your mom….” The voice was hesitant and barely spoken above a whisper; the child inside the boy inside the teen speaking in almost a fear of discovery. A moment later the voice continued, adopting a familiar tone that only was shared with the best friend on the other side of the door.

“Could you ….I need a new name?”

The boy pulled at the unfamiliar rig; he was used to the occasional dress up when he and Sia were in Middle School, and it never got out of the house except for the time they had hopped a bus to Syracuse for a Goth convention. The feelings of shame and sadness mixed again in all-too familiarity with relief as his penis ‘disappeared’ under the thong and hose.

He wanted to be a boy to please everyone; the only boy in any extended part of his father’s family. No boy cousins would carry on the name unless he stepped up; a tacit expectation brought out in glad boasting over ‘his’ accomplishments at family gatherings. But nothing took place inside and even on the outside parts that remained rude reminders of what he was and what he wasn’t. No stirrings and no sensations and no feelings even as his heart ached almost constantly whenever he was around the girl on the other side of the door.

He looked up at the shower curtain rod and saw she had hung up two outfits to wear. One had a very nice replica of a long dark jacket and a plain collar; homage to one of his favorite characters. He always found it odd that he was drawn to the spiritual considering he was also likely to never follow in his father’s footsteps. Caleb senior was a missionary whose journey was cut short by a very disrespectful intrusion into their lives by prostate cancer. His step-father followed in his own family’s tradition and was a cabinet maker and carpenter. Ironic if all too painful.

The other outfit surprised him; not in the fabric or the colors or the sheer beauty, but in that Sia’s mother had captured a look that spoke to the boy’s soul. He lifted the hanger gently off the rack and pulled at the soft cloth; it seemed to almost shimmer and sparkle and he couldn’t tell whether it was the light or the moment. There would never be a point of no return for him; choices would jump out from behind the familiar and safe all the rest of the day, but so long as he had them he could stop. He sighed and blinked back a few tears and looked at himself in the mirror. A boy in pantyhose stared back at him nervously, but with less fear in his heart than ever in the recent past. He took a deep breath.

“Sia? Mrs. Kanakaredes?” The soft sweet voice called from down the hall. Sia went to spring off the couch and her mother gently held her hand. She shook her head no and smiled. Sia nodded and called back.

“Caleb?” There were no others in the house. Izzie (Isadora) and Penny (Penelope) were at a meeting for a fundraising project for Scouts and their father Spiros had not gotten home from Roberts where he taught Social Sciences. They both cocked their heads; almost like twins listening for some surprise. No slow dragging of feet shod in heavy old boots, but instead the almost zizzing sound of nylon gliding softly on the carpet. Olympia looked at her daughter and nodded.

“N….no, Sia, not Caleb,” the voice spoke. The two faced the hallway and saw a very anxious looking young woman. She wore no makeup and her short dirty blond hair looked boyish, but she held herself in an almost regal pose. Sia turned to her mother who nodded, prompting her to run to the girl and embrace her as a long lost friend. Caleb hadn’t gotten lost so much as found by the two and perhaps by even more. There was a loud pop of spark as she embraced her friend; the result of the static electricity built up from her hose.

“I…I can’t go out like this.” She looked down at herself; she for that is who and what she was. There was no shame, but the awkward fear pushed hard at her resolve. Sia pushed back.

“That’s okay. We can go another time. They’re in Buffalo next month, okay.” She rubbed the girl’s arm.

“Don't worry, honey. Whatever you feel right about is the right thing to do, okay?” Olympia smiled warmly. Sia’s mother was so much like her own but for the fact that her mother wouldn’t understand and Olympia Kanakaredes understood her perfectly. She checked herself; himself…it was so confusing. She had worn her mother’s best dress once when she was left alone one long Sunday afternoon. But this was different; no hurry and no pressure to be somewhere or something else at the end of the day. Instead, it was a Friday afternoon with no expectations…at least that’s what she hoped.

“Can we just stay here?” The boy/girl put his head down, his face covered in shame by her hand. Sia pulled the hand gently away from Caleb’s face and smiled through understanding tears and nodded.

“I think it would be good if you stayed home tonight, don’t you, Sia?” Of course Sia had already planned for such a contingency. Mr. Kanakaredes was already sitting in the take-out area of Golden Phoenix Restaurant picking up dinner. The only question that remained was who would be home with the Kanakaredes girls to greet him.

“Sweetie? I think it’s just fine; we all have things we’re uncertain of, and what we have here is something Sia and her sisters and I can share with you. You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel safe about, but it’s just so brave of you to do what you’ve done already.”

“I feel like an idiot...so...stupid.” Caleb shook his head no, evoking a ‘no’ from Olympia.

“No, child…no. Please don’t feel like that. You’re just trying to find yourself.” Caleb hadn’t meant to, but he looked over at Sia and would have stared but for the return gaze by his best friend. As he looked at her he felt a stirring below; a fairly uncommon and unfamiliar feeling that caused his face to grow even hotter and redder. Things remaining the same when they should at least have been examined and upended and looked into became a shameful presence of things for which the boy had no control. He wanted to be right…to fit in with someone, and be somehow accepted.

The feelings were right because they were his and they were to be expected, no matter what might take place from then on. But they were shameful, and he burst into tears and ran back down the hallway. Unfamiliar with the lack of traction from the hose, he lost his footing and fell down and landed face first on the hallway floor; the thick carpet and the extra padding he had thought to add breaking his fall only somewhat, but doing nothing to mitigate the great embarrassment he felt. Olympia walked slowly down the hallway with Sia and sat down on the floor and gathered the boy in her arms.

“You remind me of my brother Nico…so sweet and innocent…” She pulled the boy close as his sobs caused his body to shake. Sia knelt down next to him and patted his back.

“It’s okay, Caleb. Really.”

“Come, child.” Olympia stood up slowly with Sia’s help and then lifted the boy gently to his feet; he was so light for a boy his age.

“You can sit in here,” she pointed to Sia’s bedroom,” and then when you’re ready, you can come out, but maybe walk slowly, okay? Sia will sit with you while you decide what you want to do.” The boy looked down at his dress; the gown had torn in the bodice and his ‘breasts’ had flattened from the fall.

“You can change if you like, okay?”

Sia said as she opened the door and led the boy inside, holding his hand like an older sister instead of a very pretty girl; at least that’s how she felt. Caleb shuddered at her touch, feeling all the same confusing feelings from a moment before, but now mixed all too solidly with guilt and self-hatred. Sia took his shudder the wrong way and kissed his cheek, sending him back into sobbing. He felt ashamed that he was a boy. He felt ashamed that he really believed he should be a girl. He hated that he had feelings for his best friend as conflicting ‘understandings’ about things regarding boys and girls and girls and girls and was he even a girl at all. He was, but it was something that needed clarification as much as if he was discovering a talent for piano or a flair for the dramatic or a brilliance in math. Olympia helped him in the clarification, simultaneously blessing and embarrassing the boy.

“Sia and I were talking about this, and we decided if it’s okay with you, we came up with a name for you.” The boy shrugged his shoulders at the remark until the woman said softly,

“Callidora. Do you like that?”

“It means beautiful gift!” You couldn’t blame Sia if you tried at that point; she was young and she only wanted to make her best friend feel good about herself. Well, it was almost the only thing she wanted to do for her best friend. Neither the spoken or unsaid reasons were realized as the third option once again made itself known when the boy burst into tears.

Next: Companion

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Comments

Thank you 'Drea,

The journey progresses, despite the misgivings and doubts.A lovely story,beautifully told.

ALISON

Aah! 'Drea!

joannebarbarella's picture

Beautifully described mixture of all those teenage feelings that we all felt....ecstasy, terror, self-loathing, fear, longing, etcetera.

Olympia is lovely. If only all mothers were like her,

Joanne

"Callidora"

she is indeed a beautiful gift. As is the writer of this piece.

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