Chapter 4 – Much to do about Something

My time at the nursing home was productive in the drug department too. Not one worker or resident at the nursing home caught on to what I was doing. The medicines I pilfered were in such small and strategic amounts it wasn’t even noticed. Most of the time, they attributed it to someone dropping a pill if they did notice. I would still go once a week. And to be frank, I really enjoyed getting to know the people there. It was rewarding. I stayed longer and longer. I got to know everybody by name and they loved having me stop by. The would tell me stories about themselves. And I loved hearing their stories. I realized after my conversation with Doug, that had I been born in the right body, I would have come here anyway just to listen to these wonderful people who are forgotten ... and that is when what Doug was teaching sank in … they are just like me. I was forgotten, and so are they. Doug didn’t send me here for the drugs. He sent me here to learn. “That little skunk.” I thought. “That wonderful, understanding, and faithful little skunk.”

Jane even started coming on some of the days I wasn’t there so the residents got more time with my family. At the dinner table one night, Jane said that Mrs. Fredericks called her ‘Sam’ and said that “You have grown into a fine young woman, Sam.” Jane asked if I was offended.

“Don’t worry, Sis. Mrs. Fredericks suffers from something they call ‘D men sha.’ I don’t know what it means. But I know it causes the resident to get confused easily. The staff tells me to just accept it and not to argue with the resident. Still, I am surprised she even remembered my name. She is a sweet lady who was a nurse during the Korean war. I like listening to her stories of being a nurse. I am just glad you visited and made her happy too. But, thank you for telling me. If she calls me a girl, I won’t correct her. I will know why she is confused. And it will be,” I switched to a phony high pitched voice and said it in a silly way,” between us girrrlsss!” Jane giggled. Mom pretended to shocked. Dad howled with laughter. Robert asked when the game was starting.

Soon, my ability to play guitar got so good, I even started playing guitar at the nursing home. The staff kept a guitar on hand for me there during the nursing home’s afternoon tea. I played mostly Broadway tunes for the residents. I requested the chance to switch from guitar for the moment to piano at the dinner table. My folks agreed and now I was learning piano after school one day a week and playing guitar too for the residents. Plus, during Samantha time, I would play guitar for fun. I was growing to love the songs of Justin Hayward. My guitar teach was disappointed because I was a naturally gifted student, but I pointed out to him that I planned to return to it after learning to play the piano competently. I wanted to take piano because reading music was a talent I needed to develop and it was easier on the piano than on the guitar. And reading music didn’t come as easily to me as strumming a guitar.

As, I moved on to the end of fourth grade, most boys were eleven and about to turn twelve. I noticed most boys and some girls were getting bigger than I was because my growth had slowed down to a crawl. I was four foot four. Average height for a girl. But about four to seven inches shorter than the average boy in my class. Doug said that the drugs stopped a small growth spurt and I was on my grandfather’s growth track now.

Doug had become a regular in the house by that time too. My parents enjoyed talking to him. He listened to their opinions and asked them advice because his parents were hardly around. He even came over and spent a lot of time in the house on days I was off at the nursing home, or a piano lesson, or whatever I was doing outside the home. Inevitably, my sister Jane awoke to the fact that Doug really wasn’t so bad to have around and could help her with her tough subjects. He made himself available and tutored Robert in math, science, and English so he could stay on the football or baseball team’s roster. Doug was really becoming family. However, when I was around, we were still as thick as thieves because I was his pet project.

As I was coming in from a visit to the nursing home one day, I watched Doug at work. He was looking at my photo and my grandfather’s photo on the wall and talking with my parents. He asked my Mom and Dad how big their parents were because he was doing a study on genetics for extra credit. Doug explained to them that my genes were likely the same as my grandfathers and that I may end up being his size too.

My dad was clearly bothered by this news but thanked the boy genius for telling him that. “Somehow,” my dad said, “that explains a lot about why he is so small compared to his brother at the same age.” As I got some milk from the frig to drink, I heard Doug tell my Dad that if that was the case that I was like my grandfather, I shouldn’t be pushed to go out for sports or I would get slaughtered. He told my dad that I should find something for which my height and size would be an asset. He suggested either gymnastics or figure skating. Dad perked up and said that I enjoyed watching the men figure skating competitions. And that my favorite skater was someone named Weir. My dad could recite Joe Montana’s stats and probably his middle name. But bring up the “Battle of the Brian’s” and he would think it was two school boys fighting. To Dad, figure skating wasn’t a real sport. As for me, the only reason I know about Montana is from watching his sock commercials and hearing my brother talk about him incessantly.

What Doug said next really sold my Dad on my learning to ice skate. He pointed out that ice skating was a special elective and the school district has special P.E. exception rules. He said that in certain cases in junior high and high school, a student could fulfill their P.E. requirement by taking ice skating classes at the local rink. Dad could get me out of a regular P.E. class at school where I would be in a locker room and might be called a weak sissy boy only to be picked on and beaten up by bullies. However, I had to get district approval which was easy. Doug could get a note from his doctor dad or mom excusing me when the time came. So, after Doug told my Dad whom to call when I hit Junior High, I found myself learning to ice skate anyway. I went to ice skating classes about once a week after school on Tuesday afternoon. I loved it. The shocker was that on the first day I took the class I was joined by Doug. He needed P.E. credits, but being so young in his grade level, he was too small also. The skating instructor signed the district forms for him and he didn’t have to take regular P.E. class. Thanks to Doug, I also found that ice skating taught me poise and balance. All of which made me a more graceful girl. It might not have been ballet, but it was close enough. And Doug’s genius was awesome. Spending time with him too was nice.

Doug began to give me small amounts of female hormones I acquired from my nursing home visits to prod my body into being more like a girl’s body. He made sure that I wasn’t bumped into puberty by testing my hormone levels frequently and kept asking me if I had my groin and armpits had grown any hair. Doug’s stated goal was to lower my hormones during puberty and give me a more natural hormonal curve that was consistent with my family’s traits. He felt it was important to give me strong bones.

When I was about to finish fifth grade, even the average boys were as much as five to seven inches taller than me now. I was just about four foot five having grown barely an inch the whole year. Secretly, I was pleased with my small stature. I know I am supposed to want to be bigger. But, I don’t like to get into fights. I couldn’t run faster than any of the boys. But, being small, I could outmaneuver them. I wasn’t very strong either. And being the smallest meant that a few of the larger girls liked to mother me which was nice. During recess, I tended to hang out in a Ramada where a volunteer parent had board games and puzzles. I liked going there and playing.

The best thing about being small was that I didn’t have the pressure of joining the boys in sports. Most times, I would just pull out a book to read when I was playing with a team. Most often I wasn’t called up to play. So I could get lost in reading about the Boxcar children, Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, and Sherlock Holmes while everyone played the game.

One day, we were outside playing baseball. The teacher felt sorry for me. I hadn’t been up at all. He finally said to the team I was on that they had to let me get up and bat at least.

“Oh please, Sam’s no good. Do we have to Mr. Harrison?” Our team captain, Jimmy Holmes was miffed. Our team needed to get a run to tie and another to win that period’s game.

“I don’t need to play Mr. Harrison. I am fine. There are really much better players who can do this.”

“No son, you need to play at least once this year. You are up to bat.”

I could barely find a helmet that wasn’t too big for me and a bat that didn’t feel like a lead weight. I ambled up to the batter’s box and got ready to look bad.

The first ball was a strike. Jimmy shouted, “Just swing Miller. End our pain. Get it over with!”

The next ball I swung hard and twirled myself into a heap of flesh on the ground.

Mr. Harrison said, “You can take your base son.”

“Why?”

“The ball hit you didn’t it?”

“No sir, I am just a klutz.”

I could hear Jimmy Holmes saying “Why us? Why did we have to get the loser?”

It hurt to hear him say that. But I couldn’t take a base because of something that didn’t happen.

I got up again and swung hard. I don’t know how, but I connected. The entire outfield was way in and so was the infield. I hit a ball out to right field along the foul line that went over the first baseman’s head. The right fielder was in so close that he had to go running for the ball. I ran with all my might and got to second. Anyone else might have turned it into a home run.

I was very happy. I knew I wasn’t going to get beat up by Jimmy Holmes any time soon. The short stop, or is it the second base man, said he liked that I was honest and didn’t take the base.

So, for me, that lone time at bat was like a home run. The next batter, Tom Hinks, actually did hit a home run and we won the game.

Of course, when I stepped on home plate, Jimmy said “You still should have taken the free base. You could have cost us the game by being honest.”

My parents were talking about summer camp for me. Doug came to the rescue and told us about a Shakespeare summer school pass/fail class for the school district middle school students. I qualified going into sixth grade to take the class. It stopped summer camp talk.

It was organized and run by a teacher from my middle school by the name of Mrs. Duncan. My brother hated her. Boys, it seemed, never got an A in Mrs. Duncan’s course. And, I was going to be in her middle school English class in the fall and spring.

Mrs. Duncan was a stickler for doing Shakespeare right and if I joined, I would likely be, because of my age and size, asked to do a female role. Mrs. Duncan had a bad reputation. That is why some boys from our school often avoided her summer course because they were afraid of her using her influence to force them into playing a girl’s part. Boys from other schools could say no to playing a girl’s part since it wouldn’t hurt their pass/fail grade and she couldn’t do anything about it during the school year. So, she never had a boy play a female role.

Doug wanted to do directing and volunteered as a soon to be sophomore in High School to assist Mrs. Duncan. He had gotten to know her when he was in middle school and had asked her all about the summer class. Mrs. Duncan understood he couldn’t take it for school credit and was delighted to let him help assist anyway. Mrs. Duncan almost fainted when Doug told her with his being there, that his close friend, Sam, would surely join and allow her the chance to have a boy play a woman’s part for once. He said I was open minded and loved Shakespeare enough that I wanted to experience it.

We had a family discussion about it at the dinner table. Surprisingly, Doug was present. My Dad and Mom were worried I would get teased. But, I said to them, “Look, Doug here told me a lot of good can come from this and he has been a really good friend and this was something we could do together. And if I can help him out, I would like to join the middle school acting troop during the summer.” Then I pulled out the ace card that Doug said would sell my folks. “Plus, if I do play a female role, all the better because from what I gather, getting an A in her class would put me into the gifted and talented program in High School which means that many of my classes would count for college credit too.”

They liked that idea. After I joined, I asked Mrs. Duncan if we could perform for the nursing home too. Mrs. Duncan loved the idea and was pleased to find out that I volunteered there. So, I told my parents I will have good references for College from another teacher. That made my parents’ day. My parents were so thrilled with my contributions and Doug’s positive influence; they hardly knew what Doug had really done, which was for everyone’s good.

At the dinner table again (yes, Doug started to join us for dinner a lot), Doug warned my folks on the days I appeared at the nursing home, I may have to stay in character all day or some of the people there would get terribly confused because many of them were suffering from dementia. (I finally learned how to spell it and what it really meant) They talked about the trouble with Mrs. Fredericks, who passed away during Easter. I played guitar at her funeral too being too new at the piano. Doug said those that were of a sound mind would love to hear how I learned the role and prepared for it. To them, I would be a Shakespearian reenactor. So, if I was Portia in a skit, I had to spend the rest of the day at the nursing home as Portia. The staff understood why. Doug even joined me on those days and talked to many of the residents about Shakespeare too.

My Mom and Dad were thrilled. On our next sleep over, Doug performed a little surgery on me with a local anesthetic. I was amazed at his skill. He placed an implant in my left arm. It would guarantee that I wouldn’t grow over the next few years. He said that his parents were supposed to install one in a patient, but had to abort its installation. It couldn’t be used again, but was still good. He was told to dispose of it, but palmed it and decided to use it on me. So, for the next year, I won’t grow. I will still have to take boy hormone blockers, but it makes my life easier at the nursing home.

On the first day of summer school, to Mrs. Duncan’s surprise, she found that with a little instruction, I could sew and make my own costumes using the sewing machines at the school. In fact, I was such a fast learner that I could do it in less than a day. She never knew that I had so much prior experience thanks to Doug requiring me to spend hours on his family’s sewing machine practicing stiches, installing zippers, hems, etc. She was also thrilled that I agreed to do female roles.

For our first play that summer, I made a beautiful costume in the school drama for Hero in the play for Much Ado About Nothing. It came from a Simplicity Renaissance collection pattern. I found it in a store from having done homework for one of Doug’s girl classes. So, Mrs. Duncan didn’t know that I had a chance to work out all the kinks before I took the summer course on several previous attempts. I even made a few costumes for the other boys and girls in the troop based on other patterns Doug had me do previously. My long hair meant that I could use my own hair for the role instead of a wig. I did have to wear platform shoes because I was a little too short. The girls in the troop showed me how to do up my hair and we had lots of fun going over how to use makeup. Even better, the girls put a bra on me and stuff it so I looked more like a girl too for my role. I was the first boy Mrs. Duncan ever met that didn’t mind acting Shakespeare the old fashioned way. Little did she know I wanted to be a girl. Mrs. Duncan said I made a fine woman in the play. I pretended to not enjoy the compliment.

During the summer, we did several skits from a Shakespeare play each week at the school and I used the same costume, with slight alterations, for all of them. But, best of all, I got to be a girl and act like a girl in front of everyone the whole summer, including my parents who didn’t seem to mind since they thought it was a role I was playing. Doug found a way for everyone to see me as a girl without them thinking I was doing something wrong.

And, of all things, after the final performance of the summer for the parents, Mrs. Duncan talked to my father about how proud she was of him for allowing me to play a female role and not getting all macho. Doug was standing there and piped up that my Dad was an exceptional man who didn’t expect Sam to be like Robert, the football star.

Mrs. Duncan thought for a moment and said that she remembered that Robert was in her English class in Middle School. And, my Dad said, “Yeah, Robert didn’t get that macho attitude from me. It must have been the boys at school. Because Sam here is a really good kid. And he isn’t ashamed of his size or afraid to do the extraordinary.” Dad leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and hugged me like I was his little girl. It felt so good.

“Son,” he said, “you don’t make a bad looking daughter.” We both laughed, but I saw how Doug planted the thought in my dad’s brain without him being the wiser.

Later, while still dressed up as Portia from Merchant of Venice, my mother commented that I really made a very pretty girl. “Aw Mom,” I said, “I bet you say that to all your sons.” And we laughed again.

I appreciated what Doug had done that summer. He allowed me to be seen in public as a girl, in front of my parents as a girl, and for my Dad to accept my role as a girl without it hurting his male pride. Thus far, his plan was working. The rule was that I wasn’t to push it. That was Doug’s job.

It was no surprise to me that I was almost the only boy in Mrs. Duncan’s 3rd period class to receive an A in her sixth grade English class that year. I told Mrs. Duncan that I would love to participate the following summer too. She was so happy to hear that and said that doing theatre for the nursing home was her favorite part of the previous summer and she was so impressed I volunteered there.

One of the boys in school asked how I got my A. I said, “By doing the bravest thing a boy could ever do in front of an audience.”

“What would that be?” He asked.

“By playing a girl just like child actors did in the late 1500s.” I would later learn that I shouldn’t have said that because it planted a seed that a couple of years later would harm both Mrs. Duncan and me.

Yeah, I got teased, but the teachers in the school all said the same thing. “I don’t know of any boy in this room who has the courage to do what Mr. Miller did, now get back to work.”

It didn’t work. But, since I was protected by the school, the school bus started dropping me off at the nursing home after school. So, no one could get to me.