Carlie has sissy predispositions, but overcomes difficulties with love, courage and increasing self-awareness. In this chapter: disaster and turmoil.

II. A Sudden Change

Liz was 3 and a joy to be with. We played dolls all morning and I was about to cook lunch when a large explosion shook the house. Liz cried and wet herself. I held, comforted and changed her. Meanwhile I could hear sirens rushing to the disaster, whatever it might be. When things quieted down after lunch, I put Liz in her crib for a nap. Sandy came home about 5:00 and we all got in her car to take me home. When I got there, instead of a home I had a smoking hole surrounded by splinters of wood and debris. A fire marshal and a policemen were poking around, trying to determine the cause. To me it was obvious: dad had tried to replace the hot water heater by himself and forgot to turn off the gas. I ran out of the car, shocked and numb, hysterically looking for my dad. Finally, the fireman grabbed me and I blacked out. I remember crying as Sandy held me, and then being in the shower.

The next morning I woke in Sandy’s queen sized bed dressed in lavender satin PJs and a wet diaper. It was almost noon. Embarrassed, I took off the diaper, put it in the trash and showered. When I came out, I found a pair of plain white panties on the bed. Seeing nothing else, I put them on and got back into the PJs. I walked into the kitchen. Liz hugged me and told me she was sorry about my daddy, which started me crying again. I wasn’t hungry, but ate a bit of bacon and eggs. Sandy told me a social worker would come at 1:00 to decide what to do.

“To do?” I asked.

“Yes, to find you a place to live.”

“Can’t I say here with you and Liz?”

“I'd love to have you, but I don’t think social services would like the idea of a teen boy sleeping in my bed every night, and I don’t have another other place to put you.”

“In Liz’s room? No, I guess not.”

After I finished picking at my food, Sandy said I better hurry and get dressed before the social worker arrived. I asked where my clothes were. She told me I'd ripped them in the rubble running around like a crazy person. Also I'd lost control when I fainted and messed them. So, she'd thrown them out. I started to recall Sandy cleaning me with baby wipes on the bathroom floor and diapering me. I was very embarrassed. She said not to worry about it, but I still needed something to wear for the social worker's visit. Of course, all my other clothes were gone in the explosion.

Sandy said, “I have some shorts that fit before I got pregnant. I saved them, but they'll never fit me again. You could wear them if you like. They aren’t very feminine — not compared to lavender satin anyway. They're roomier in the hips and a tighter waist than your pants, but yours always looked tight on your rear and too big around your waist anyway.”

“I know, I have big hips like my mom. Pants that fit my rear are loose at the waist. So, I get the smallest ones I can and wear my belt tight.”

“Since my old PJs you fit you, the shorts should too. Would you like them?”

“If they fit and aren't pink, sure.”

They did fit, and were a lot more comfortable than my jeans, so she gave me the lot. She also had some sleeveless tops that didn’t fit her maternal breasts, but fit me loosely. She said sleeveless wasn't just a girls' style, guys called them “muscle shirts.” I wound up in white cotton panties, white shorts and a violet “muscle shirt.” My tennis shoes were sooty, so I wore Sandy's pink flip flops.

Once I was dressed, I sat with Sandy waiting for the social worker. Liz sat next to me and gave me Nancy to hold so I'd feel better. I took her so Liz would think she was helping, but, frankly, I did feel better with my old friend and reminder of my mommy.

Promptly at 1:00 the doorbell rang, and a rather harried woman in her mid forties announced that she was Mrs. Sanchez, a county social worker, come to talk about “the Robinson child." Sandy introduced me as Carlie Robinson. I stood up to shake her hand when I realized I was holding Nancy with my right arm. As I was fumbled to switch Nancy to my left hand, Mrs. Sanchez told me to sit and relax as she knew I'd been though a lot.

She asked Sandy what relation she had to me. Sandy said that I'd been her nanny for almost three years and and she planned to file Monday to be my attorney ad litem pro bono — whatever that meant. Then the social worker turned to me and, instead of getting down to business, asked me if the dolly was mine and what her name was. I told her that my mom had given her to me, that Nancy was Liz's now, but she was mine when Liz and I played dolls. She smiled and made a note. Then she asked if I was the only child of Edward Robinson, what my birthday was, if I knew of any other living relatives, where I went to school, when I would graduate and if I had any plans for after graduation. I said I didn't know of any relatives and that I'd been accepted for the fall term at State in town.

She told me that I was a ward of the state until I was 18, but that might change when Sandy became my attorney and filed whatever motions she had in mind. In the meanwhile, regulations required that I have medical and dental exams and be given whatever treatments I might need. She would also find me a place to stay as soon as possible. She asked Sandy if I could stay with her for a day or two until she lined up a foster home. Otherwise, I'd be put in a county facility — which she did not recommend “for a child like Carlie.” Sandy said I could stay, was given some papers and told to make appointments with the county-appointed doctor and dentist. The whole interview took maybe eight minutes.

Sandy had planned to buy me some boy's clothes Sunday after the appointment, but I was too emotionally exhausted and teary to go shopping. Mostly I answered Judy's and Jason's concerned texts, watched a Disney princess video with Liz, and slept. Judy came over in the afternoon and hugged me. Shortly after, Jason came too. I was lousy company, so after an hour Judy gave me a kiss with tears in her eyes, and left. When she was gone, Jason told me he loved me, but knew I was “not like that.” Then he gave me a tender embrace and kiss, and left too. I was touched.

That night Sandy suggested that I wear a Depends to bed, since I'd had an “accident” the night before. I did, but I hardly slept and got up several times to pee just in case. I woke dry.

Monday, Sandy filed a petition to be my attorney, and it was granted. Other than that, she stayed home working the phone and computer — making appointments and starting to look into my dad's estate. Mrs. Sanchez called to say she'd found me a place within walking distance of State with a couple that usually hosted exchange students. The girl they were expecting had canceled, so they had an opening. Since I was almost 17 and graduating, the judge had granted a waiver for me to stay with them even though they weren't certified foster parents. Mrs. Sanchez said I'd find them “very accepting” of my “situation.” Also, they were near the bus line, and the county would provide bus vouchers for me to finish at my current school.

When my Nikes were washed, we found holes burned in them. Sandy gave me a plain pair of black flats to wear. While I sat with Liz, she packed a gym bag for me. Finally, it was time to go. She took me out for a delicious Mexican dinner, then drove me to my new home.

The couple I was to stay with, Katherine and Shannon, was lesbian and usually only hosted girls. They were making an exception for me. Their home was a modest three bedroom Cape Cod. They seemed very nice, but, like many lesbian couples, lived on a tight budget. They shared the master bedroom. The second bedroom belonged to Shannon's daughter, Kelly, who was at college. The third they occasionally rented as a B & B in the summer and used for exchange students the rest of the year. After a brief conversation, Sandy promised to keep in touch, said I could call her any time, and left me to settle in.

Shane (as she liked to be called) and Kate lead me to my room. Kate had refinished a mismatched bed, dresser, desk and makeup table in white with antique gold trim so they looked like a set. She'd also made the drapes flanking the window and a gorgeous quilt in a spring flower theme. Goddesses and faerie queens printed off the Internet adorned the walls. A small bath echoed the floral theme in its towels and rugs. Fragrant soaps, shampoos, and lotions stood on a pink counter top. I cried at how lovely it all was and told them it was stunning. They were both genuinely happy that I liked it, and Kate beamed proudly.

Kate stayed to help me unpack. She was concerned that I had only one small bag. I said all my things were lost in the explosion. I was not to worry — the county had given them a budget to buy me “some lovely new things.”

She found Nancy on top and handed her to me. I placed her on the dresser as a reminder of my mom. I wished I had pictures, but alas, they were gone with the rest of my life in the explosion. Next came the shorts, “muscle shirts” and panties that no longer fit Sandy. There were three pairs of slacks I hung in the closet. Near the bottom Kate found “my” lavender PJs. If they weren't enough to make me blush, under them were a couple dozen Depends. Kate saw them as she handed me the PJs, but said nothing. She left me to put them in the dresser. It was only 8:30, but I was drained from stress and lack of sleep. I put on my PJs and went to the kitchen say good night.

They could see that I was exhausted, but needed to tell me the house rules. Shane said I must tell them where I went, be home by 10:00 PM if I didn't clear a later time, help with the housework (we'd divide up tasks later) and not pee standing up, because they couldn't abide males “making the floor pissy.” (I never liked cleaning pee off the floor myself.) All the rules seemed reasonable. So, I readily agreed.

I turned to go to bed when Kate said she had an idea to help me relax. She invited me to sit by her and slowly brushed my hair, telling me that 100 stokes every night would make it lustrous. Her mother had brushed hers every night, and, if I didn't mind, she'd like to do mine. It would also give us a chance to talk when I needed to. It was very relaxing, but I was tired and sad, and didn't say much. When she was done brushing my hair, she asked if she could trim it, “just a little.” Too tired to give it much thought, I nodded. She put a towel over my shoulders, trimmed the sides and back, and then cut my (previously non-existent) bangs above my eyebrows. When she was done, she patted me on the bottom and said, “Off to bed.” I started to leave, but she held my hand and whispered, “Be sure to wear your protection. The mattress is new.”

Back in my room, I saw a girlish bob with bangs in the mirror. I dreaded the teasing I'd get at school. Maybe I could say it was Beatles style. But right then, in lavender PJs and bangs I looked like a sissy or maybe a flat-chested girl. I decided it really didn't matter. Compared with loosing my father and home, how I looked wasn't worth thinking about.

I cradled Nancy and started getting into bed when I remembered Kate's reminder. I'd never wet the bed. Well, not until Saturday night. Still, I was a guest and shouldn't take chances. Reluctantly, I pulled down my PJs and replaced my panties with a diaper. I'd expected to feel embarrassed, but strangely, the diaper, my diaper, felt comforting. I hugged Nancy and cried. I didn't think I'd miss my dad so much, but I really hurt — and it brought back the pain of loosing mommy. As exhaustion and sadness overtook me, my thumb found its way into my mouth.

I had strange dreams. Mommy was holding me, then nursing me. Then Sandy was giving me her breast. Sandy turned into Kate brushing my hair, and tying a bow at the back of a blue play dress she'd put on me. Later, I asked her to change my diaper. I woke up. It was 2:00 and I realized my diaper did need changing! I'd forgotten to use the bathroom before going to bed. I got up and took off my diaper. Someone, probably Kate, had put white plastic bags on the bathroom counter. I put my wet diaper in one and cleaned myself with a washcloth. I sat and drained my almost empty bladder. Taking no chances, I put on dry diaper. It made me feel warm inside and safe, almost as if someone were holding me.

I woke about 9:00, wondering if I'd wet again. Happily, I was dry. I showered, and shampooed and conditioned my hair. It had a sheen and body reminiscent of shampoo commercials. I put on fresh panties, shaved my virtually non-existent beard, and wondered how to style my hair. It would be rude to change the style Kate had given me without trying it a few days, so I parted my hair in the middle and brushed my bangs forward. It was a cute style, and I liked it. I took a cell picture and sent it to Judy and Jason. Judy texted back “Fab gf!” Jason said “For me?” I blushed.

It was a cold morning, so I opted for slacks. I choose a black pair with a fly. They were a cotton-poly blend that flowed like water, but dragged on the floor. The other two pair had elastic waists, were flyless and the same length anyway. Maybe Shane or Kate could shorten them. I put on a royal blue “muscle shirt” and the flats Sandy'd given me. I was cold, so I put my PJ top over my shirt.

Shane was already at work. (She was an elementary school principal.) Kate was the home ­maker and worked as a substitute teacher until she could be hired full time. She saw that I was cold and loaned me a periwinkle cardigan. After a breakfast of fruit, unsugared cereal and skim milk, I asked if she could shorten my slacks. She said they were meant to be worn with heels, not flats. Also, I had doctor's appointment in an hour, so there was no time for alterations. Shane had some sensible black boots that might fit. I could borrow them.

The boots were “sensible,” but still had a 2” heel. Still, they were less feminine than the flats Sandy'd given me. Kate loaned me cranberry boot socks that came almost to my knees. Although a bit narrow in the foot, the boots fit well enough. Once they were on, the slacks were a perfect length, but the heels made my butt more prominent. Oh well.

Kate told me the plan for the day was to go to the county medical center for my exam, and then to the mall for clothes shopping. Kate hated being late for anything, so as soon as I got the boots on, we left.

We got there 15 minutes early. Even so, I had to wait an hour before “Carlie Robinson” was called. The nurse gave me a urine container. When I returned it, she took my height, weight, BP and three vials of blood. I sat a long while, maybe waiting for the lab, then the doctor saw me. She had me pull up my top and drop my pants. She said nothing about my black nylon panties or cranberry socks, but I still felt like a complete sissy. I was healthy except for my acne, and she promised to prescribe something for it.

My panties were still on display when a nurse poked her head in. Luckily, I had my back to her. The doctor said, “Carlie Robinson, standard regimen — acne.” The nurse made a note and the doctor left me to pull my pants up. Total time: 3:45 minutes by my watch. I was given an appointment for a follow up blood test in a month, and sent to the dispensary. After another long wait, the pharmacist gave me my meds and asked if I'd taken BC pills before. I'd never had a prescription before, so I said no. She said, “Don't worry, everyone in the system gets them. They should help the tetracycline clear up your acne. They might make you a little nauseous at first, but that should pass in a week or so. If not, call the doctor. Any questions?” I was tired and had to pee, so I said no.

As I waked out to meet Kate I looked in the bag and found a three month supply of birth control pills and tetracycline, each with three renewals. I'm not the brightest bulb in the box, but I knew what birth control pills were for. I just didn't know they gave them to boys. The pharmacist said everyone in the system got them. Maybe they stopped boys from getting girls preggers. I remembered Judy saying they cleared up her acne. The doctor had promised something for my acne, and the pharmacist said they'd help. I decided that's why I got them.