The Greener Mile - Part 5 (conclusion from Part 4 1/2)

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The Greener Mile - Part 5 Conclusion

Chapter 28

The next few days were spent going around to stores and picking out new furniture for the new house. I was getting exhausted by the time the week was over. My stomach was starting to grow exponentially and it was starting to inhibit my movements. Fortunately, Frank had everything delivered to the new house after each purchase. At least I wouldn’t have that much to do other than organize the house for my future husband.

That’s right, I am going to be getting married again. After Frank announced the purchase of the new house, he got down on his knee and proposed to me. I was left speechless for the second time in a matter of moments. With tears streaming down my face, I accepted reluctantly. I say reluctant because I was still feeling John’s loss strongly.

JaNeece cheered loudly the whole time. I blushed at her cheering.

Frank made sure that we had enough bedrooms in the house to provide personal areas for as many as seven people. The babies would be sharing the same room for a while after they are born. They would have rooms next to each other as they grow older so that they wouldn’t be far apart. I refused to segregate my children just because they may be a boy and a girl.

I worked on setting up an office so that I could have a location that I could have some sort of privacy. I took a moment to check up on the stocks I had been playing with. I hadn’t had a chance to look at them for a while and I was pleasantly surprised to see one of my long shot penny stocks had shot through the roof. I had bought 15,000,000 shares of the stock for 50 shares for a penny or 0.0002 per share. The company was one that was designing motors that would revolutionize life away from fossil fuels.

This stock was meant as a high risk stock and I had only invested $3000 into the purchase. I was absolutely shocked to see that the stock had gone up to $2.50 a share. My stock was now worth over $37,000,000. I immediately sold half of the stock and put the rest into holding position with stop limits so that if it went down that I wouldn’t lose too much money. Even if it dropped down twenty-five cents, I would still make millions off of it. If the stock continued upwards, then I would make more money.

Then I wondered what I was going to do with the extra money. I had never had so much money in my life and now, I was rolling in the dough. I had some thinking to do about it.

I knew one thing that I was going to do was set up two separate accounts, one for each of my children for the future. Education and living expenses were first and foremost on my mind for them. I knew that the more money they had for later in life, the better off they would be. I felt that 2/3 of what I just made was going to be put into their accounts with half going into each. By the time they needed the money, the funds would have been built up even more. John’s children would never have a need for anything in their lives. As I was thinking, there was another person in my life who should benefit from this windfall: JaNeece. I don’t know how long she would be with me, but she deserves everything that I have to give to her. I cannot begrudge anything like it for her.

As I was sitting in my chair, I felt a twinge in my stomach. I reached up and placed a hand over the area where my children were growing. I was rewarded with another kick, followed by several others. I now knew my children would live and that they were real. I smiled to myself a smile of contentment. I had always wanted to have a child or children and now, I would do so.

My previous life had been so bereft of any familial support that this whole situation seemed to be so bizarre to me. I was settling down to a life that I could have only in my best dreams. I had been married as a man but only because of peer pressure. After my SRS, I never married. But now, I will be married again but as a genetic woman. Frank and I have to set a date as yet but it is hard to tell as when that might be. I know that I would like to be married before the babies are born so that they would have a person who will be able to be a father to them. Not that Frank would turn away from them.

I was so content with my musings and so relaxed that I fell asleep sitting in my office recliner.

#*#*#*#*#*#

Next thing I knew, I was lying in a warm soft bed with arms wrapped around me. It was a position that I could luxuriate in forever but I was feeling a bit of pressure in my bladder. I wriggled as best as I could without waking Frank up. I was a failure at that task since he opened his eyes and told me good morning.

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and excused myself to do an urgent task. Once finished, I went back to his warm arms and lost myself in them again. Before I could whistle “Yankee Doodle’, we were deeply in the throes of built-up passions. It had been so long since either of us had sex with our partners that we were starved for loving. I think we were at it for at least a couple of hours.

Once both of us were sated to the point of near exhaustion, Frank asked me, “When we get married, would you like a big wedding or a little one?”

“Heavens, Frank! Why on earth would I want a big wedding? I have no family, well, except JaNeece anyway, and what family I did have before would think of me as being dead anyway. A small one would be fine with me. We certainly don’t have to go out and rent the Taj Majal for us to get married in.” I told him.

“Hmm, I hadn’t thought about that. Great idea! I’ll call the Prime Minister of India to make the arrangements to rent the Taj. Better yet, I think I’ll just buy it… Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked as he saw the look of disgust on my face. Before I could say another word, he burst out laughing. “I’m sorry honey, but the whole thing is rather ludicrous but I just had to respond appropriately to that one.” He continued to laugh for a moment.

Finally, I joined in with him. It was rather funny how I had said it and the way he replied. Once we wound down, we just lay there and snuggled for a bit longer.

In my mind, I couldn’t help but compare the two men that I had shared my body with. John had been a very big man and his cock had been huge. I had gotten a lot of satisfaction out of our sessions. Frank on the other hand, is quite a bit smaller than John was. But what he lacked in size, he made up for in technique. Either way, I had been sexually satisfied with both of my men.

Chapter 29

Time seemed to drag for me as the months passed towards the birth of my children. I had started gaining weight exponentially by the time I hit five months of being pregnant. By the time I was eight months, I was as big as a house, or at least the house Frank used to own. I could hardly move around, I was so big.

My ass and hips had been getting absolutely huge and my boobs were gigantic. I looked and felt like a beached whale at times. JaNeece sometimes made fun of me but I knew it was in light of the fact that I had once been a man. She was always happy and had a gay twinkle in her eyes no matter the time of day.

I sometimes felt that I should make my bedroom sitting on the toilet. I felt like I had to pee every three minutes and it was hard on me. Ever since Frank and I got married a month ago, things couldn’t have been better. Well, except for the rapid ballooning of my body because of the babies growing inside of me.

Frank has been a real angel to me. He watches out to make sure that I need nothing. If I need to go to the doctor, he is there with me the whole time. I know he was a good father to his son and I know he will be a great substitute for John when these babies decide to show their faces to the world. I know that he knows they aren’t his by blood but they will be his by marriage. He doesn’t even seem to care that they aren’t his either. I am so happy that I met him and that I married him. (I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. As time grows closer to the birth, I have been getting really emotional and I don’t know why.)

One thing that I have been doing in addition to seeing a regular doctor for the babies, I have been going to see a psychiatrist because of the problems I had after I was kidnapped and killed. I have had many sleepless nights because of the dreams I had about that time. Dr. Strout hasn't been kind to me but he doesn’t really believe that I was a man not so long ago. I had laid it on the line during the first few visits to him but he really had a hard time with trying to understand how this all came about. Frank even came to one of my sessions with him and let him know about the name change and stuff that was associated during that time. Although Frank didn’t know me before that time, he was able to verify the fact that I had been involved with the murderer of the children and that I had had to have a name change to hide me.

Dr. Strout had done his research thoroughly. He finally got to the point where he had used his credentials to talk to the psychiatrist who had given me my letter years ago to have my SRS. He followed up with other research and came to the conclusion that I might be slightly delusional since no one regresses in age nearly thirty years because someone does something to them. He tried tripping me up by using the information he had obtained from my previous shrink but I was able to answer or refute everything that he put me to task over.

He did prove to be one of the most bull headed men that I had ever met. I had been rather bull headed myself when I was trying to get my letter for the surgery but he was out bulling me. I had found the calming effects of estrogen long ago gave me an inner peace that made my former male self look like a raving maniac. And to boot, I wasn’t that bad.

But the testosterone level in Dr. Strout was higher than any man I had ever met. He refused outright to even accept that I had ever been anything but a woman. He accused me of falsifying records, forging documents, bribing a medical professional into lying on my behalf. For the most part, I sat there and took his tirades with a smile. That set him off even more.

I had heard one time that most psychiatrists and psychologists needed therapy themselves and this man proved the point perfectly. I finally couldn’t take it any more and walked out of his office while he was still screaming at me. For this, I paid over $200 an hour to see him. I waddled my way out of the office reception area as quickly as I could.

“Hold it right there, bitch!” was called out behind me.

My blood ran cold. I had been spoken to like that by several different people before and the same tones and vehemence had been used before. Dr. Strout was standing over me with all the veins in his face standing out and his face red with anger.

His voice was deeper than I had ever heard it before. “If you think you’re going to live to have those bastards, you have another think coming. John Coffee was nothing. Those monsters inside you are nothing. Why won’t you die so that they won’t live?”

I was now officially scared out of my wits. What the Hell was going on… Oh my God! It finally dawned on me. The good doctor was demonically possessed!

Fearing for my safety and my children’s, I started backing up out of his reach. He reached out for my throat before I cleared his range of reach. His hand tightened over my windpipe with the pressure of an alligator’s jaws. I could hear the cartilage creaking and the fireworks were starting to go off behind my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes started to go grey on me as I flailed helplessly at the hand the clenched my throat.

As I could no longer get a breath, I made one last ditch effort to get the hand off of me. I kicked out to try to hit him in the crotch. I missed horribly and only caught his thigh. I knew no more.

#*#*#*#*#*#

Waking again was quite a pleasure since I knew I should have been dead. I was once again in a septic smelling place that could have only been a hospital. I opened my eyes to a sun lit room. As I glanced round, nothing was familiar to me.

No one was around me as expected. I was alone in the room. I looked and saw the call button next to my head. I reached for it and pushed the button.

I didn’t have long to wait.

Within seconds, I had doctors, nurses and orderlies surrounding me. Trauma carts were wheeled in and positioned next to the bed. I was being pummeled by questions that I couldn’t understand because there were so many of them coming at me.

They finally stopped asking me the questions all at once and relied on one person to ask them.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

I tried to answer but nothing came out of my throat. Not even a squeak. I put my hand to my throat to feel if there was any damage that I could feel. Nothing felt abnormal to me but I couldn’t make a sound.

The doctor realized that something was wrong with my voice and he called for some sort of scope. I didn’t know what he was talking about until he was brought a case that had what looked somewhat like a gun but instead of a barrel, it had a long tube.

He talked carefully to me, trying to explain what it was he was going to do. He took some sort of spray bottle and gave a squirt up my nose. I choked on the horrible taste and tried to cough it up. No sound came out that would have been normal. I was coughing with just a passing of air out of my mouth.

The doctor tipped my head back and inserted the tube up my nose. I could feel it entering my sinus cavity and moving its way slowly to my throat. I was trying to watch the doctor as he maneuvered the scope deeper into my throat.

As I felt the scope at the back of my mouth, I watched the doctor’s eyes grow wide. He move the scope a bit deeper and moved it around for a few more moments. Finally, he backed the scope slowly from inside me. His face had gone pale and I wondered what he had seen in my throat.

Once he had the scope out and put up, he excused himself, supposedly for a moment. He wound up being gone for more than an hour.

#*#*#*#*#*#

By the time the doctor came back, I was starting to fidget from the need to go to the bathroom. I don’t know how I had managed to stay away, since the advanced stage of my pregnancy had been causing me to need to use the bathroom nearly every ten minutes.

I guess from the look on my face, he knew what was going on. He had a nurse take me to the bathroom, where I was able to release a lot of pressure from my bladder. Once done, I went back to join with the doctor and find out what was wrong with me.

I raised one slim eyebrow in a questioning manner.

“Sharry, I think you know that something is wrong with your voice. Don’t you?” At my nod, he continued. “Somehow, this attack on you has removed all traces of your vocal cords. All there is in your throat is a clear passage into your lungs without any sign of you ever having had vocal cords.”

I was aghast at what he told me. How is it that I didn’t have vocal cords? I’m sure someone was going to find out.

“I hate being the bearer of bad news but there is no way to avoid it. No one can ever restore your vocal cords once they're gone. Unless you can come up with a direct line to God, it would take a miracle to get them back. There is nothing that can be done for you otherwise.” He finished and left me to my thoughts.

All I could do was cry, silently.

Chapter 30

I was later visited by Frank and JaNeece. Frank was apologetic for not being there for me and JaNeece was sad-faced. She didn’t really say a word to me. I think she was terrified about what might be able to be done to anyone without a moments notice. One thing that I did notice that she was trying very hard to disguise was the tears that threatened to overflow her eyes.

I had so many questions that I needed to ask but I had no way to do so without resorting to writing things down and having to wait until they were read before they were answered. I resolved that I wasn’t going to let the whole issue handicap me for the rest of my life.

I made a sign to Frank that I wanted something to write on. I waited until he was able to round up some paper and a pen for me. When he finally came back, I wrote the first note of many to come.

‘Would you get me some books on American Sign Language? I have to communicate one way or another or I’ll go crazy trying to write things down.’

He read the note and then said, “Yes, I can do that. If you would like, I’ll hire an instructor to teach you, which might be a better idea.”

I heard a small “Eh, hem!” to get my attention. Frank and I both looked at JaNeece.

She had a small amused look on her face. “Neither of you know everything about me. One thing that I haven’t said anything about is that I had to learn ASL years ago because one of my best friends went deaf because of an explosion that happened near him. He could only converse by sign language after that. I felt that in order to be a friend who didn’t walk away from someone because they got a handicap such as hearing loss, I went the extra route and learned how to converse with him as he learned also. We spent more time together and became even better friends because of it. I would be willing to teach you if you are willing to learn.”

I was beginning to realize that there were depths to this young girl who was so much more than she seemed to be. She was so quiet for the most part and when she did talk, her voice was so high and yet soft. I loved listening to her talk when she had her rare moments of verbal effervescence.

I hurriedly wrote out another note and handed it to her.

‘I would love it if you would teach me. I can think of no one better that I would want to learn from. But, if you are going to play the part of a teacher of something as complex as ASL, then you will need to be paid for your efforts. You name your price and I will gladly pay it.’

After she read it, she grew thoughtful. She shook her head briefly as if she was reading something that didn’t agree with her.

“No, I won’t accept payment for teaching you. But, I think that one of the better things to do is donate the money to an organization that would benefit from it more than I could. There are local schools for the deaf and blind as well as the mute who could use money for their schools. Most are privately funded and are underfunded. It would help them immensely. Does that sound ok with you?” She told/asked me.

I scribbled out a message to her. It read, ‘For something like that, I would give them money regardless. I never knew about them. What is the name so that I can make the arrangements for payment to them?’

I was told to hang on for a moment. She left the room and was gone for a few minutes. When she came back, she was holding a piece of paper in her hand. With out a word, she handed it to me.

It read: Jean Massieu School of the Deaf.

I nodded my head and made out another note with the agreement. Little did she know that I planned on bequeathing them a million dollars. It would be worth it in the long run. I think I would also set up a repeating donation every year based on the need and my income. I also planned on doing a will that would give them a generous inheritance in the case I was actually killed and didn’t recover from it. I gave an inward shudder at the thought. I had been very lucky so far.

#*#*#*#*#*#

My lessons in ASL began immediately. JaNeece had an enraptured student in me. She was able to tell me the actual signs as well as demonstrating them to me. I excelled when it came to the simple letter signs but when it came to actual word signs, I flubbed up more often that I succeeded. I grew frustrated at the complexity of the words I was being taught. It began to become repetitive and boring to me. I would get words and phrases that meant little to me other than a flashing of the hands.

JaNeece started talking to me only in ASL and refused to say a word. She was a perpetual slave driver, no pun intended. She pushed me hard, gave me tests, praised me on the right things, scolded me on the wrongs.

Then, one day, a month after I started learning the sign language, I was wracked with a very sharp pain in my abdomen.

I was in labor!

End Part 5
Part 6 still to come as soon as I can get it finished. Hold On folks, things are starting to get weird for our Heroine! Er, weirder than they have been.

Goldie

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