“— I might have been like that guy who Twisted into a giant cockroach in his sleep.”

 

“That’s an urban legend,” I said. “There’s a book where that happened, but it was way pre-Antarctic Flu, pure fantasy.”

Twisted Throwback

part 23 of 25

by Trismegistus Shandy

This story is set, with Morpheus' permission, in his Twisted universe. It's set about a generation later than "Twisted", "Twisted Pink", etc. A somewhat different version was serialized on the morpheuscabinet2 mailing list in January-April 2014.

Thanks to Morpheus, Maggie Finson, D.A.W., Johanna, and JM for beta-reading earlier drafts. Thanks to Grover, Paps Paw, and others who commented on the earlier serial.

I took off my helmet to hear Lionel’s natural voice babbling “— that was awesome you guys and now I’m going to go pee and leave you alone for a bit okay?” He tossed his helmet and gloves onto the sofa and was gone down the hall before I had my left glove off. Vic removed his helmet and my eyes met his for a moment before we both looked away.

After a few moments' embarrassed silence Vic said: “That was a good game.”

“Yeah,” I added.

“Good problem-solving, and good roleplaying... I loved how you got Tomas to confess to the killing where your wire could pick it up.”

“Thanks. And thanks for having my back on that — he’d have killed me too if you hadn’t gotten there in time.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s what I was there for.”

What neither of us were ready to talk about yet was how Kiera had jumped into Oscar’s arms after he’d taken down Tomas a moment before he would have put a hole in her skull with his laser-drill, or how the VR-mediated kiss we’d shared then had felt. I was wondering how much better his actual lips would taste, and I hoped he was wondering the same about mine... We still hadn’t said anything to the point when Lionel came back from the restroom. That sort of snapped us out of the contemplative silence we’d fallen into after Vic’s last remark, and I said I needed to go as well, and went down the hall.

When I got back, Lionel and Vic were snacking and not saying much. Lionel looked back and forth between us, expectantly, but we didn’t satisfy his curiosity. I saw the blinking light on my tablet and checked my messages; there was one from Mom a few minutes ago:

Uncle Jack and Mildred just got here with Tim. Come on home.

“I need to go,” I said. “Vic, can you give me a ride?”

“Sure,” he said.

I told him about Tim as we walked out to the car and got in.

“So you haven’t seen him since he was a toddler?”

“No — his mom hasn’t had anything to do with the rest of us since she divorced Uncle Jack, though she still sees him when he comes to Austin to see Tim.”

“Then... I guess he won’t be surprised to see you’re a girl.”

“Probably not. I expect Uncle Jack’s told him some about his cousins, but it probably all runs together for him... it used to be like that for me, when I was his age, all the stuff I’d hear about kinfolks who don’t live in Trittsville that I don’t see often. I’ve got cousins in Nashville who I didn’t sort out which side of the family they were on until I was twelve.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He didn’t say anything for a minute, and I didn’t either, until I noticed he’d missed a turn. I was just about to speak up when he said in rush:

“Emily, I didn’t want to say this until I was sure, and I hope you’re not going to be mad or upset, but I feel like I need to be up front about all of this or else — you might feel even worse if I held back and didn’t tell you some of it until later, maybe.”

I looked at him and nodded encouragingly. He went on, turning at the next street to circle the block.

“I think you’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever met, and the more time goes by, the more time I spend with you the way you are now, the harder it is to remember you used to be a boy. And the worse I feel when something does remind me of it... I can’t imagine how much worse it feels for you. And when you were going out with Rob — I was worried about you, I really didn’t think he was good for you, but even more than that, I was worried that I’d lost my chance to be with you. You’d get involved with Rob and he’d cut you off from your old friends a little at a time, the way he did with Charles.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” I said. “He was kind of upset when he heard I’d had lunch with you at Delhi Deli last Saturday, and that... well, it’s one of the reasons I decided not to keep going out with him.”

“I’m glad.” He was silent for another long moment before he said: “Please, please, please don’t get mad at me, but I need to say this all at once. I’m attracted to you — most of me is, probably the most important part. But part of me still insists that you’re a boy. When you told me you’d broken up with Rob, a big part of me wanted to ask you out right then and there — but this other part stopped me. I’ve gotten that part to quiet down, but I can’t be sure it won’t be louder again tomorrow. Maybe it won’t shut up entirely until you get your body fixed. Or maybe I can wrestle it into submission by the end of the month... I just don’t know. But I’ll keep trying.”

“It’s okay,” I said, though what he’d said hurt more than any of Tracy or her friends' snarky remarks — just moments after making me feel better than anything Rob had ever said to me. “What Kiera and Oscar did was between Kiera and Oscar. Emily and Vic are different people.”

“Yeah. So... I just thought I should tell you. I was wondering if, the way you were in the game and all... but I guess I read too much into it.”

He hadn’t, but now wasn’t the time to tell him that.

“I wouldn’t say no if you did ask me out,” I said, “but I’m happy just hanging out with you, with or without Lionel or somebody else around... We’ve known each other since grade school, we don’t need an excuse to hang out.”

“Right,” he said, smiling a little awkwardly. “Anyway... I should take you home now.”

“Yes... they’re expecting me by now.”

He stopped circling around the block and turned toward my house. We didn’t say anything more until he parked on the street in front of my house. Not only my parents' cars and Uncle Jack’s were in the driveway, but also Grandpa’s. I opened my door and stepped out, and turned to lean into the car again. “Probably all the kinfolks will be gone by Sunday,” I said. “We could hang out then you want.”

“That’d be good. See you then?”

He drove away as I walked up the porch steps.

The living room was crowded with Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, Dad, Uncle Jack, Mildred, and a little boy who looked vaguely familiar — undoubtedly Tim. Indeed, the moment I walked in Mildred said to him: “Tim, this is Emily, my big sister — your cousin.”

“Hi, Tim,” I said. He nodded and looked at Uncle Jack, who said:

“Tim, do you want to show your cousins your bug collection?”

“Insect collection,” Tim insisted. “Sure.”

“You brought it with you?” I asked. “Cool. Lead on.”

“Not all of it,” he said, leading us down the hall to the guest bedroom, “but some of the coolest specimens, and holos of the rest...” He opened up a small blue suitcase that was sitting on the bed, and dug through the clothes piled on top to reveal a plastic case containing a praying mantis, two unfamiliar kinds of butterfly, and something — I wasn’t sure what, maybe an exotic beetle? He explained all about them as Mildred and I nodded and asked occasional questions.

He’d just finished explaining the insects in the case, and had started showing us holos of the ones he’d left at home, when Renee came in.

“Hey — Uncle Jack said I’d find you here. You must be Tim; I’m your cousin Renee. My mom and dad are in yonder.”

“Tim’s showing us his insect collection,” I said. “Take a look.”

“Neat,” Renee said, though I thought I could detect a twinge of squeamishness when she looked at the display case, and she didn’t move much closer while Tim showed us a couple dozen more oversize holos.

“Maybe we could go to Terrell Park and look for more specimens Friday or Saturday,” Mildred said, “if the weather’s warm enough.”

“That would be cool,” Tim said. “This time of year a lot of insects have died out and their eggs won’t hatch until spring, but it wouldn’t hurt to look. I brought my killing jar and mounting supplies just in case.”

About then, Mom called us to supper, and we went into the living room. Grandpa said the blessing, and we all sat down to eat. The grown-ups used the dining room table, and Renee, Mildred, Tim and I sat around the kitchen table.

“You feeling kind of overwhelmed?” Renee asked Tim, who hadn’t said much since he’d finished showing us his insect holos. “So many new people...”

“I guess so... Mildred showed me pictures of everybody while we were driving up here, so I’d know who everyone was. But I’m still getting people mixed up.”

“Do you have a lot of cousins on your mom’s side?” I asked.

He shook his head. “There’s just me and my cousin Lacey. She’s my Aunt Cindy’s daughter.”

“Poor guy,” Renee said with a laugh; “you’re the only boy surrounded by girl cousins on both sides. If only you’d come to visit a few weeks ago!” She glanced meaningfully at me, and I don’t think she meant to make me uncomfortable, but she did. I hastily changed the subject:

“You’ve got several boy second cousins, though. You’ll see several of them tomorrow and on Thanksgiving — there’s Jerry and Carson, and Todd.”

“Jerry and Carson are the ones closest to your age,” Mildred said; “remember I showed you their pictures?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Tim looked at me and said: “Mildred said you used to be a boy, too?”

“Yes, until my Twist.”

Tim put his knife down and fiddled nervously with his cornbread. “I’m kind of scared of being Twisted,” he said. “I hope I take after my mom.”

Mildred said: “It can be kind of scary. But once you get used to it, it’s usually not as bad as it looks.”

“I’m kind of nervous too,” Renee said. “I might Twist any time now. I mean, if I’d Twisted while I was looking at your bug collection —”

“(Insect collection),” Tim interrupted quietly.

“— I might have been like that guy who Twisted into a giant cockroach in his sleep.”

“That’s an urban legend,” I said. “There’s a book where that happened, but it was way pre-Antarctic Flu, pure fantasy. More likely you’d just get interested in collecting insects, like Tim... It’s less than one in a hundred Twisted who’s like Mildred, and there’s not that many like me either.”

“Yeah, I know. But I can’t help worrying about it.”

“I don’t want to be a girl,” Tim said.

“You probably won’t,” I said. “It’s not all that common.” But not really rare like what happened to Mildred, and I couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen to him. Anything could.

“You don’t have to start worrying about it for several years,” Mildred said. “Hardly anybody Twists before they’re twelve, and not many before they’re fourteen. But along about then you want to start being careful.”

We gave him some more advice, to reassure him and make him feel as though he had a little control of his fate, though in fact that kind of advice was nearly useless. You tend to Twist when you’re learning something new or experiencing something for the first time — but deliberately trying to trigger a Twist almost never works, probably because obsessing about how you’re going to Twist is not something you’re doing for the first time, and it’s your frame of mind more than what you’re physically doing that seems to matter. Richard and I had avoided ever dressing up as a girl, the way Medea did, and we’d Twisted into girls just by reading about them. And there’s no way Mildred could have avoided what happened to her, either. But we didn’t tell him that.

Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Rhoda’s family, went home about an hour after supper. Uncle Jack told Tim to brush his teeth and start getting ready for bed, and Dad said:

“Emily, I have news for you. I spoke with your friend’s father, Mr. William Dyer, this afternoon.”

“What did he say?”

“We spoke about the drug Dr. Park prescribed, and the response from the Medical Bureau. He told me he would try to speak with the responsible parties tomorrow, but it was unlikely he could persuade them to take any action before next week. He is quite hopeful that he can get them to approve the other drug you need soon, and that after that, they will not be so slow to approve the hormone therapy which Dr. Underwood has recommended.”

“Cool! Did he say anything about what it was he owed us a favor for? Did you talk to Grandpa about it?”

“I did allude to it in my conversation with Mr. Dyer, when I tried to pay for his services and he refused. After seeing how reticent he was on the subject, I thought it unfitting to ask my father about it as well.”

“All right. I guess it’s between them.”

“And, after having concluded those matters of business, he asked me some further questions about you — I gather, in relation to your dating his son. He mentioned that he had asked Rob to invite you over for supper, and asked my permission to host you, and asked when that might suit. I told him that we would be busy with family the remainder of this week, but that if they wished to have you over any evening next week or the week after, it would suit.”

“Oh — about that.” I realized I hadn’t told Mom or Dad, or even Mildred, about telling Rob I didn’t want to go out with him again. “Rob asked me about that yesterday, and I said I didn’t think it suited — actually, I told him I’d enjoyed our dates, but I didn’t want to go out with him again.”

Mildred and Mom, who had been working on cleaning up in the kitchen, suddenly stopped and turned toward us. I felt very self-conscious as I went on:

“I mean, he’s a nice guy, and he’s good about not pushing me to do stuff I’m not ready for, and I’m really grateful to him for talking to his dad about my medicine problem, but — I just think it would be a mistake to keep going out with him. I think —”

I’d really been so busily distracted meeting Tim and visiting with him and Renee, and Grandma and Grandpa and the rest, that I hadn’t quite assimilated everything Vic and I had said until that moment. I paused and put things together, and went on:

“I don’t think I’m going to be ready to date again until I get my body fixed. Not until the hormones starting having some effect, anyway, and maybe not until I have the surgery.”

They were all silent, and for a moment I felt like I should say something more to fill the silence, but I couldn’t think of anything. Then Mildred was hugging me, and Mom was lined up right behind her, and Dad was saying “That is a very mature decision, Emily. I am more proud of you than I can say,” and that was how Uncle Jack found us when he came back from getting Tim tucked into bed.

I recently posted a list of story ideas I'm thinking of writing next. I've just started writing a new one (#12 on that list), but I have a feeling it's not going to be very long and and I'm already half or a third of the way through. (Obviously there is room for many stories in the #12 setting, but I'm not going to write two in a row.) So more feedback will be welcome about what to write after this.

If you've enjoyed Twisted Throwback and my other free stories, you may also enjoy these others -- available from Smashwords in ePub format and from Amazon in Kindle format.