The Callahan Family Chronicles - Part 2 of 3

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a sequel to A Wrinkle in a Swiftly Tilting Adolescence...

 
Terrence Nathaniel Callahan resides in a world of almost all his own; no swiftly tilting planet, but a dream that seems almost as bad as a nightmare because instead of being stuck in the dream, every morning he wakes up to his miserable life...

Somewhere in space and time...

Mrs. Whatsit looked at the girl and smiled gently.

“You needn’t worry, child. Everything is alright. You’re quite safe.” She started to turn away and her countenance seemed to change. A glow came over her as she put her hand on the girl’s wrist.

“You’ll be alright once you go through the required gateway of tessaract phenomena.” Her voice almost seemed to emerge from an echo chamber and the girl was beginning to get confused until Mrs. Whatsit reached into her cape and withdrew a card….

“Call me tomorrow on my cell and let me know how things go with your therapist,” Sylvia Martinetti nodded and smiled as the boy stood up. She waved for him to remain.

“It’s going to be okay, Terry. You’re almost out of school here, and there’s a whole summer to prepare if you feel you must attend in the fall. The state has a fine system of support and scholarships available for students like you.” She almost regretted pointing out the obvious but nearly shameful until he laughed.

“I know… American Geek Society…. Goth N’Proud… Too Old for Hogwarts!” But his laughter trailed off and his frown filled in the rest of his words.

“Terry? It’s okay to be different. I guess the next step is to figure out just how different you are and what your needs will be.” Life was continuing to grow both more wonderful and confusing and horrible and scary for Terrence Nathaniel Callahan, erstwhile Goth boy-turned-girl and multi-disciplined devotee to Harry Potter and other fantastic people via fan fiction and semi-cosplay, as his girlfriend Callie Mahoney would put it.

“I don’t even know what I want, Ms. Martinetti, but I know what I don’t want, and that’s to be like this the rest of my life. He looked down at the clothes he wore. Any other student in school might have considered his outfit outlandish, but he saw it so differently, since a coat-like cape draped over a torso covered with shirt and jacket might be fairly acceptable. But wearing pants just didn’t cut it when a skirt would do.

The Callahan home, Summit, New Jersey, later that afternoon...

“You don’t look like a Goth, Terry. I think you look good.” Libbie paused for a moment before her expression took on a quizzical look.

“What’s a Goth?” His sister Libbie was his biggest fan; perhaps Terri’s biggest fan as well.

“Would you be my big sister, Terry?” She had asked, even to the point of offering Terry her baby doll.

“I’m too old for this,” she said to him, which made little sense to the seventeen year old sibling before her until she continued,

“Daddy told Danny and Dale to be nice to you. He said you probably are a girl and that you have to make up….” She paused and actually put her left hand to her chin while tapping her right temple with her index finger just like Terry might do.

“Oh….yeah….Daddy sez you gotta make up for lost time. Can I have her back after you’re through with her?” She pointed to the doll. Terry had nodded almost enthusiastically while yet growing a very dark crimson as the thought of his father talking with his brothers about his gender issues became embarrassing. Libbie noticed and grabbed his hand.

“It’s okay, Terry….really. You don’t hafta be my sister.” Funny how small things become important amidst the dearth of support. Terry might be the oldest child in the family, but he was just like his mother; she was a crier, too, until she left to find her way in the world. Terry followed his mother’s example and turned away so Libbie wouldn’t notice the tears in his eyes.

“Terry?” Libbie tugged at his sleeve and he turned; reluctantly but slowly facing his sister. She smiled even as her own tears mirrored his.

“I love you. I think Daddy and Danny and Dale love you too. They just don’t do so good telling you.” Recently turned eight-going-on-thirty, the girl nevertheless seemed to be the wisest in the Callahan family. Terry nodded before leaning close to kiss Libbie on the cheek, evoking a hug.

“I love you, too, Libbie. I’m just not so sure I love me at this point. Thank you.” He squeezed her shoulders before running up the stairs to his attic bedroom.

The following evening...

“Daddy?” Libbie walked into the living room and sat down on the couch next to Terrence Sr.

“Libbie?” He tilted his head in an amused expression. She slapped his wrist playfully.

“Does Terry have a problem?” She looked up the stairwell as if he might be coming down any second. Terrence Sr.’s eyes followed her gaze upward in similar fashion.

“Whadya mean, kiddo? Problem? I suppose no more than anybody else.” He laughed softly. She stared at him for a minute; the two-headed father stare that we all display from time to time.

“You got problems? I thought only us kids had problems.” She actually sounded serious until his grin caused her sober look to disappear in a fit of giggles.

“Terry wants to be a girl. Like me?” She looked downward at her waist and shook her head.

“That’s what he tells me….no, scratch that.” Libbie looked at Terrence Sr. before using her hand in a scratching gesture in the air.

“I guess that's what she tells me...You know…we all are born a certain way. You were born a girl, right? And Dale and Danny were born boys. You all feel good and it feels right that way, you know?” Libbie nodded, pretending to understand. Terrence Sr. paused for a moment and smiled, waiting for her real answer.

“No, Daddy, I don’t understand. I’m a girl. Terry wants to be one, too?” She looked at her right hand and admired the nail polish Terry had helped her apply only an hour before. She tilted her head and recalled their time together before her eyes widened in something akin to an ‘aha’ moment.

“Boys don’t wear nail polish, do they?” She looked at her father’s hands.

“Mostly, Lib… mostly, but some boys wear it for fun and some like to wear it to say something about themselves.”

“Like Terry and the Goth stuff?”

“Sort of, but with Terry, it’s even more than that. When he was born, he had a boy’s body.”

“Geez, Daddy. He still does!” Libbie dragged out her ‘get with the program’ look and displayed it proudly.

“I know. But inside…like here?” Terrence Sr. pointed at her heart.

“Right there he doesn’t have the things that make a boy who he is. He was born with girl stuff in his heart and in his head, you understand?”

“Like me and math and the clarinet?” She put her chin down a bit to steal a glance at her heart.

“Exactly. Math is a part of you…the clarinet and soccer…what makes you who you are. Terry has a boy’s body but inside Terry is all about being a girl. It’s hard to explain, but it’s really how some of us have outsides that don’t quite match our insides. It’s not just that he wants to be a girl… No matter what we see, he’s a girl already. Why Terry goes to a special doctor. I hope that helps.”

“I let him have my dolly.” She said it, but her face seemed to be much less proud than her voice. She continued.

“I don’t think it helped.” She sighed as if she had just failed her math test the day before; you already must have guessed that she aced it, but she felt sad until Terrence Sr. spoke up. He patted her on the back.

“You know how Terry cries sometimes when he’s happy? He was crying last night when I talked to him after dinner. He showed me the doll. Libbie…I think that helped him more than anything any of us could ever say, because you told him by giving him the doll that you believed in him.”

“Good…I’d hate to give away my favorite doll for nothing!” Terrence Sr. began to frown until Libbie’s expression turned to a broad grin. Her ‘just fooling’ smile.

“The thing for you and me and Danny and Dale to do is to just see how much we can do to help Terry feel good about himself, okay.”

“Nope…I can’t.” She folded her arms and looked quite cross.

“And why is that…I thought we just agreed that Terry is a girl….at least on the inside for now and maybe on the outside later, right?” Libbie shook her head no. Terrence Sr. was about to speak when Libbie actually leaned closer to her father and put her index finger against his lips to ‘shush’ him. His eyes grew wide in surprise as she shook her head once again.

“Not himself, silly! Herself. Terry’s a girl, Daddy. Right?” Libbie’s proud tone was matched by the broad smile on her face.

“Right you are, Dr. Callahan.” Coming from anyone else, the title might have sounded condescending, but from her father, it was a compliment of the finest order. She nodded and shook his hand.

“You think Mommy is ever coming back?” Libbie’s expression turned serious. Terrence thought for a moment.

“I don’t know, Lib. You know it’s up to her, right? That you didn’t do anything to make her go away…we’ve talked about this?” He sighed, feeling helpless. While a huge part of Terrence Callahan Senior wanted his estranged wife to return, much of him wanted more to protect the growth and healing that had occurred in the family at her absence. He might hate sleeping alone, but he loved the kids too much to see them hurt should Nadia Callahan halt her self-discovery tour and bring her chaos back into what had become a fairly ordered household.

That is by fairly ordered it meant two reasonably normal hyperactive boys, a very, very precious eight year old girl, a father who had learned he was completely a person all by himself, and a troubled first born-child who had discovered in many ways both good and bad that he was just like his mother.

In a cold, dimly lit stone-paved hallway somewhere else...

“We can get into a great deal of trouble for this,” Hermione said as she peered around the corner of the stone pillar down the hall. Her hand reached back blindly in the dark and waved until it was grasped tightly.

“I don’t care. Bugger the rules. I’m tired of hiding.” Ginny spoke softly from the shadows; her feet the only part of her illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window above and to their right.

“I know, but it’s only until school lets out. We have the whole summer to take whatever adventure comes to us!” Hermione paused and tilted her head, wondering from where in the recesses of her literature-loving psyche that turn of phrase had emerged. From the same recesses, she seemed to hear the soft purr of a large cat.

“It’s not fair.” Ginny protested. She had retreated further into the shadows and was contemplating running backward until she bumped into…

“Oh….sorry, Mr. Dellacourte.” Callie shrugged sheepishly and went to continue. He held his hand up.

“No excuses, okay? I know it’s the last couple of weeks, but if I let you slide on this, what credibility would I have.” The assistant principal pointed to his office and shook his head.

“Really, Mister Callahan. Aren’t you a bit old for Ms. Rowling…? Really?” Archie Dellacourte was as fair an administrator as they came. He grinned and literally turned his head and put his hand over his eyes.

“You two run along….” He paused and opened his fingers, uncovering his eyes.

“You do know how to run along?” Callie smiled and Terry shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. Archie stepped closer to the two and put his hands on Terry’s and Callie’s shoulders.

“Just do me a favor….I really don’t want to get stuck with bus lineup for the rest of the year, so if anyone asks you we never had this conversation.” The two nodded and went to back away until he shook his head slightly in question.

“Terry? Let me know how things work out this afternoon with your shrink, okay? And Terry?” Archie’s look was entirely conciliatory, causing the boy to tilt his head in question.

“I’m sorry about the ‘mister’ comment. I noticed your expression; I was out of line. Pax?” The boy squinted, looking confused.

“From now on? It’s ‘In the hallway with no pass? That’ll be one week detention, Ms Callahan.’” He smiled and Callie looked up and smiled back, tugging at Terry’s sleeve to gain attention. The man winked at the two of them before silently walking back to his office.

A few minutes later in the Administration/Guidance office suite...

“Was that that Callahan kid…geez, Arch… why do you let him get away with that?” Don Penatare stared at Archie and frowned.

“What, Don? Get away with walking in the hall two weeks before graduation? Or is it something much more evil?”

“You know what I meant, Arch. It isn’t right. It isn’t ….natural. And with that ….that girl.”

“Well, at least you’re fair minded, Don. You seem to be turned off by everyonewho doesn’t fit your idea of the right kind of kid.” Archie scowled; he hadn’t meant to be angry, but Don could just be so frustrating at times. He loved the man like a brother; they’d practically lived in each other’s houses growing up. He just couldn’t figure out what made him so set against Terry and Callie. There were other kids who were decidedly different than the couple; Don never seemed any-phobic before, so it had to be something else.

“She’s a good kid deep down, and I suppose he is, too, but the whole idea of ….well that trans thing seems so contrary.”

“I’ll grant you it’s not something you see every day, Don, but come on…Nothing we see now is really all that ‘out there,’ is it? You’re a science teacher, for god’s sake.”

“I just don’t know.” Don shook his head and looked out the office window into the hallway as if Callie and Terry were still standing there.

“I guess it’s really not an issue any more, since like you said, it’s almost the end of the school year and we won’t have to deal with that any more.” He shook his head, almost in relief.

“Well, Don…since this is a High School, and we do have students here, I suppose you’ll be re-thinking your assessment very soon.” Archie smiled to himself; Don was so distracted that he didn’t notice Angelo Contaldi walking past the office window, resplendant in a nice purple tunic over black tights. ‘His’ look was brought together by a pretty lavender belt and matching hairband.

It was a dark and stormy night...

The three had come down to the kitchen for a midnight snack when they were upset by the arrival of a most disturbing stranger. A knock came at the kitchen door. Odd for a visitor at that time of night; the knob began to twist of its own accord. In a moment the door opened and a stranger stood before them…

"Wild nights are my glory," the unearthly stranger told them. "I just got caught in a downdraft and blown off course. Let me sit down for a moment, and then I'll be on my way. Speaking of ways, by the way, there is such a thing as a tesseract…..”

The voice would have spoken eerily had it really been a stranger. But instead of some weird apparition from another dimension or time, a frail looking woman stood at the doorway, drenched from the cold rain. She took off her hat and long red hair streaked with gold and grey fell, framing a familiar face. Terrence Sr. displayed what almost looked like a half-frown combined with a half-grin. Libbie just beamed; the face was vaguely familiar, but enough so to hearten the little girl.

Terry gasped a deep throaty sigh and bit his lip. Confusion seemed to reign supreme in the boyish girl/girlish boy’s life from moment to moment. That night was no exception as his worst fears and her greatest hopes met together at the doorway as Nadia Callahan opened her arms for a hug.

Next: A Tearfully Acceptable Time

all excerpts from A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle

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Comments

Thank you ,'Drea,

Acceptance and love,we can't ask for much more.Beautiful!!

ALISON

God, Andrea Lena, that was wonderful!!!

Ole Ulfson's picture

I always felt there was more of Terry and Callie's story to tell. It always felt like an unfinished symphony, magnificent as it stood, but leaving one to wonder what it might have been.

Thank you so much for revisiting these lives!

Ole

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!

Oops! Mother!

joannebarbarella's picture

Let's hope that dis-harmony didn't just come in the door, as things seemed to be going pretty well.

Nice one 'Drea. Libbie is just like my grand-daughter,

Joanne