Chapter 8

Wednesday, we finished early, and then went home. Mom had organized a doctor visit, so she and I drove to the clinic. The lady she had booked me to see was very nice after getting over the shock of me not looking much like an Edward George.

I explained how I ended up coming to see her in a dress.

She said that she had seen the TV thing last Wednesday and was already a fan. I then had to undress and get examined. My stuck-on breasts and glued penis caused some consternation.

She asked if it hurt when I got excited.

I told her, truthfully, that I had climaxed a few times like this, and it had not grown by much at all. She got some solvent and freed my penis so she could check my testicles and also used the solvent to remove my breasts. She took blood samples and some readings and got me to redress. She called Mom in to hear her preliminary thoughts.

“Edie is a healthy person, girl, or boy. I couldn’t detect any lung or heart problems. What does worry me – if we talk about Eddy - is the fact that his testicles seem a little undeveloped and his penis is unresponsive.”

“What’s better– if we now talk about Edie – are the same things, plus what looks like perfectly formed female hips. She also has good legs, a minimal Adam’s apple, and very pretty facial features. ‘She,’ and I use ‘she’ on purpose, is starting to develop breast buds under those forms and I expect that I will find a decreased level of testosterone when we get the blood results back in a week, or so.”

“We can set up another appointment next Friday, but I expect you to come back with a gender decision then.”

When we got home, we had dinner and told Josie and Dad what we had been told. Josie and I did some work with our books, and I had an early night. After I had cleansed my face and put on my nightie, I had a good look at my wardrobe and took notes on what range I had. If I was to become the ‘Red Pixie” I would need to do a little shopping for red outfits.

I was starting to think that I needed more girly dresses, maybe gauzy and light as well as a few short, pleated, skater skirts. So far, the winter had been kind but, eventually, I would have to get some cold weather dresses and, “horror,” slacks.

Thursday evening, I made sure the studio was tidy and that there would be enough room. As the girls arrived, we talked about how things were going. Janet and Flora arrived in the van and then Allan turned up in a car with two passengers, both of them had a song in the Billboard top ten during the year, with one being a finalist on the national talent show on TV.

Introductions were made and Allan said he was sorry that he was upsetting our usual session but that we needed to get some ideas down for the two TV shows. One of his stars was slated to be our Santa and, indeed, already had the body for it.

The other would do two or three songs during the show and had two of them that he wanted to do with us as backing singers and the band. We already knew one which we ran through.
The Santa would be closing the show and we finalized our vision on Jingle Bells as the finale with the credits. We just had to choose another for before that. We worked around a few old favorites and then decided on Silent Night where we could do the chorus and he could do a couple of the verses.

Allan had gone off to talk to my dad and before he came back, we had gone through all of the songs for both stars, and they were happy. Allan said that he would book Harry’s hall where we could do a proper rehearsal or two next week. The Christmas show was the night before Christmas, so it gave us a week without school to rehearse the New Year show, seeing that we would be mainly hosting it.

He then told us that we had an appointment on Saturday morning at the dress shop, followed by lunch with him and then the salon had been set aside for us in the afternoon. He said that this was something we needed to get used to in the future.

After the three of them had left we got on with finalizing the set list for Saturday and then discussed the color thing. We could either go with different colors or different styles. But, with six of us we might have to do it as pairs.

If Josie was black and I was red, it was okay whatever we wore. But if we were both in black one could always wear long skirts or slacks while the other was in a short skirt or shorts. The Spice Girls had set an example here, one always well-dressed while a couple of the others got away with jeans.

Friday meant school and then some study, and then, much too soon, Saturday had arrived. When Josie and I got to the dress shop the others were already there looking through racks. The manager got us together, with her main saleswoman. She graded us by skin hue and body shape, and then brought us dresses to try.

They knew their stuff. When we assembled again and looked at our reflections in a big mirror, we were amazed at how different we looked from our usual outfits and also how different we looked from each other. Instead of being the red one I had ended up as the pink one, while Josie looked fabulous in lilac. Donna sparkled in red, Janet dark blue, Emily yellow, and Pet in white.

After that we needed to get shoes and accessories. A nearby shoe store took our sizes and came back with the shoes for us to try. We did try on a variation of dresses, skirts, and tops -- but all with the same basic color premise, so matching shoes was easy. Then Allan turned up to take us to lunch. He paid for everything.

As we ate, he told us that things were moving forward at a good pace. The recording studio wanted us to finalize the album on Monday evening so that they could edit it and put out a digital version before Christmas, with a CD in the New Year. That meant we needed another three tracks. He said he was mindful of our exams and that we should skip our sessions or anything else, until we got together on the following Saturday.

He then told us that the management at the Dude would not be too bothered if we did a normal show that night. They understood our need to pass our exams. The week after that, he said, would be a bit different as he had the rehearsal hall ready, and the costume shop now had our color list.

That afternoon we were all pampered at the salon. Emily and Janet worked on Josie and me, while the salon girls looked after Pet and Donna. The manager looked on with a smile on her face. Then the salon girls worked on Emily and Janet. They were finishing their course next week with their final exams. They had been officially offered permanent places in the salon. They were both over the moon with getting jobs so quickly.

Allan came in as we were finishing and told the other girls to head home and then head to the Dude later. He asked me and Josie to hold on as he wanted to speak to us. We found out that my father had copied another CD of our little relaxation session. He wanted us to sign a separate contract with him to record a CD of our duets in the New Year.

He asked us what we would like to be called. I was too surprised to think but Josie said, “How about the ‘Stable Sisters’. We don’t want to cut across the Pixie music.” He then asked if we had a name to call it and I said “Genesis.”

I was quiet as I drove us home and Josie asked if we were doing something wrong.

“No, Josie, we’ll be all right. What we do together is nothing like the music we play as a group. If anything, the Pixies will be playing to bigger venues and I see us in smaller, intimate places, if we do a public appearance. We’ll have to let the others into the loop, though. Maybe we can cut copies of our CD for each of them to listen to. Now that I think about it, we do duets at a lot of our shows, but not so often lately unless we’re asked to do extra time on stage.”

At home my mother looked at us and declared that we looked beautiful.

I spoke sternly to Dad about passing our CD out but did forgive him in the end. We had a light meal, made sure we looked good, and then went off to the Dude.

We had now been there often enough to be comfortable with the set-up. When we got on stage in our new outfits we were greeted with a bit of whistling from the men. Our show was good. No, our show was great! We felt great and the audience was great. When the Devil finally left Georgia, we were in the mood to mingle for a while. But the three of us taking exams explained that we needed to be up early so left earlier than usual.

Sunday became book day and Monday was the day of our first exam. Thankfully we only had one that day, so we were home in the afternoon, reviewing our notes for Tuesday.

Monday night we put down three acceptable tracks and the producer told us that he would give Allan the master as soon as he had produced it. Allan could organize a CD. It would need photos and liner notes. That would take a couple of weeks to get into production. The rest of the week included exam, study, and sleep each day until our last test on Friday morning.

Friday afternoon, I went back to the clinic for the results. They turned out as we had expected. My body seemed more girl than boy. The doctor gave me a prescription for “blockers” to hold up any further male development. My doctor had been at the Dude on Saturday evening and told me that there was no way I could pass for anything but a girl after she had seen me on stage.

Friday evening, we got a message to meet at the dress shop again after lunch. We were scheduled in the salon before we went to the Dude for the Saturday night show.

Looking fabulous seemed lovely but it was taking up a hell of a lot of time.

In a new pink outfit, I did my thing that night and Allan told us that we then had all day Sunday and Monday for rehearsal for the Christmas Show.

Our friends from the costume shop would outfit us and the other singers would join us.

He expected that we would have it pretty much in the can by the end of Tuesday because the TV station now wanted to record it Wednesday instead of going live on the Christmas Eve. That was good with us.

Sunday morning, we were headed for the venue when Josie said, “Do you realize that we only have a couple of semesters to go and then we’ll have to find a job?”

I laughed and told her we already had three jobs. The chicken business or whatever else we do with the spare land, the Pixies, and now the Stable Sisters.

“Yes, the spare land,” Josie said. “A few good size sheds would fit there, and we could run hydroponic crops. Maybe we can grow tomatoes. I don’t think your dad would be happy if we grew hemp.”

I chuckled at that one because I could remember one evening when I was very young, and my mom and dad were acting very strangely and giggling a lot. I found out a week or so later that they had tried weed as an experiment -- but had decided that it wasn’t for them.

“I wonder what herbs and spices are hard to source. We may be able to grow something that our contact at the distributor finds hard to buy. I’ll ask Dad.”

When we got to the hall we parked, picked up our instruments, and then went in. The place was already jumping with most of the Pixies already there; just Janet, the van and her mom hadn’t come yet. I was staggered by the line-up of talent that Allan had put together and hoped that someone had some idea of the overall structure of the show because I sure didn’t.

In the end, when Janet arrived, we found that we really didn’t need all of our gear. The hall had amps and a sound system and a small band that the TV channel used. Everybody except us was hardened professionals, and we just had to follow orders. We even had a script that had been written for us to use as we introduced the various acts.

I had thought that the show would be an hour -- but the powers that be, spurred on by Allan, no doubt, had decided that it would last two hours with about twenty-eight minutes off for advertising.

Sunday morning, we pulled together a semblance of order out of a mess of chaos. The Pixies were to open the show and then we took turns introducing other acts.

At about the twenty-minute point the Pixies played a song after a break. We sort of repeated the format until we opened up again on the hour. Then, towards the end, we did our singing with the top ten guy and finally sang Silent Night with Santa arriving, Jingle Bells ran with the credits. Once it was explained, it all sounded easy, and that’s how we found it.

By the time we packed up on Sunday we had run through the whole show with stopwatches to ensure the timing. The producer announced that we would run through the whole thing on Monday -- in costume and make-up, and with the cameras rolling, to get the best settings and sightlines. “Wednesday,” he said. “We’ll record it with the audience and special effects, mostly consisting of artificial snow and big fans.”

On Monday morning, we found ourselves dressed in what can only be described as fairy dresses in our own colors, complete with dramatic make-up and head-dresses. With the cameras came the lights, and with the lights came the heat.

It was one of the hardest days at work I’d ever done. Everyone was sweating by the time we finished. The producer said that it would be easier the next day with the fans going. We would stop for breaks so that make-up could reduce the sheen.

On Wednesday, there was enough of a crowd of paid extras to make it look like a party. They obviously had done similar shows, because when we took breaks between segments they sat around talking about other shows.

When we wrapped, the TV executives said that we all deserved a meal and that a room had been reserved for all of us at one of the good hotels. We all took turns at the showers in the changing room and our dress shop had delivered another batch of dresses for us. This time elegant gowns.

The pecking order became obvious when we got to the hotel. “All of us” only included the stars, us, and the house band. We enjoyed a lovely meal and the finishing of one half of the big projects. During our meal we were joined by Harry, some of the TV people, Hal, and Shirley -- with their partners, as well as a couple of their news reporters with an attached camera crew.

After we had our cheese and coffee in front of us the TV executive stood and said that a decision had been made. We would be back in the hall again Friday and the weekend because they had now decided to record the New Year show as well. No doubt it would be cheaper to do without paying union rates on New Year’s Eve.

Pretty much the same crowd would be involved. We wouldn’t have to wear a costume, just elegant gowns for the girls and suits for the guys. He said that he would get a song list out to us before Friday, so that we could see what we needed to practice.

The Pixies would meet at the stable on Thursday afternoon. Allan said he would have the list for us by then.

At least we would be over and done in time for us to get some Christmas shopping in on the following Monday and Tuesday, Christmas being on Wednesday.

We still had our Dude show on Saturday evening. Allan said that we should do it in our fairy dresses and promote the TV show during the evening. The TV people would appreciate the gesture. The dressers were told to have them available with the accessories to go with them.

It would be good, after all the rush, to have the period between Christmas and New Year as a genuine holiday. Our next semester started in the middle of January so we would be back in the saddle then.

What the Pixies would be doing next year was all up in the air at the moment. Our time at the Dude Ranch would be over. Allan had not yet given us any idea of where we would be playing next. With two TV shows under our belt and an album in the marketplace, it was likely that we would be playing somewhere, perhaps in other cities.

Thursday, we rested in the morning and got the studio tidy. All the girls turned up after lunch, along with Flora, Allan, and the TV producer. They had the list which had blocks of songs for each of the acts, with the Pixies doing four before we would have a mass group all singing Auld Lang Syne and then the biggest star (our Santa) would count down to midnight and it would be over.

Once again it seemed easy. We were able to go through the tunes they had requested before we packed up for the day. Friday, we went back to the hall with the whole crowd. By the time the day ended we had worked through the show and ironed out any kinks.

The show was meant to last three hours with advertising taken off, without special effects. At the finish we were told to meet at another venue in the morning, one of the up-market hotels with a magnificent lobby. We would be recording there using their fantastic decorations as backdrops. They wanted us there at ten so that we didn’t upset the breakfast routine.

Saturday proved to be not your ordinary day. The vast hotel lobby had been decorated magnificently. The TV people had already worked out where the small band would be placed and where the rest of us would perform our segments. The midnight count-down would take place in front of a large pool fed by a waterfall coming out of the wall. They had placed a clock next to it. Someone would reset it to the time that each segment would start just in case it came into shot.

I looked longingly at the baby grand. We had already worked out our music. Every one of the Pixies, except for Janet, would have their instruments fitted with remote senders used by the sound guys for the recording and relayed to us via ears.

First time jitters seemed to be the rule of the day, but one of the other singers told us not to worry. If we took our ears out, we would find it odd to hear just the natural portions of the small band as someone sang in an otherwise silent room. With the ears in it sounded as if we were all amplified.

Janet’s drums had been silenced and she would be singing along with us. When we did our bit, we would sound like an acoustic group. The reduction in our orchestration helped the hotel carry on with its business without too much disruption.

Because we had a limited time, whenever an act was set to perform, the producer had his cameramen move around and get the best sight line. As per rehearsal we still wore casual clothing. Tomorrow there would be colored lights, strobes, and an audience who would make it look like a New Year’s party.

Our songs took place with us on six different steps of the main staircase. We would look good. It took most of the day to go through the show and be certain that nobody felt unsure. The hotel had provided us with lunch. Tomorrow we would record. I, for one, opted to get out and go home with Josie for a light dinner. When we got to the Dude it felt like going back into a normal world; except that we would do this show in our fairy outfits.

Once our gear was on stage we were changed and made up by the TV dressers and a couple of ladies from the salon. It caused quite a cheer when we went on and Donna explained our fairy dresses. She begged them to watch the Christmas show on TV.

One of our other singers was in the audience. We got him on stage to perform one of his songs. It went down so well he had to do a second one, an old standard that we could fudge.
Actually, the show was a blast as we let loose with our usual things and ended with a group of songs that we would be seen playing on the TV show. Of course, the Devil needed to be driven out of Georgia, again, but we were getting so that we could do that one in our sleep.

Once we had changed, Allan knocked on the door, and then came in with an envelope for each of us. They each contained a wad of cash, which was our Christmas bonus. Donna had been putting a couple of hundred into our accounts each week, but this was special and would give us money to shop for Christmas. The TV specials paid well, and I looked forward to seeing the spreadsheet at the end of the month. We didn’t mingle as we needed to be back on set the next morning to be gowned and beautified after much needed sleep. The next day we went back to the hotel where a room had been set aside for our dressing. Attired in gorgeous gowns we went out to the lobby where extras in party outfits waited to be the crowd.

We got the first segment in the can. During a short break, Allan and the producer came over to us. “Edie and Josie,” the producer explained. “We have a problem. The singer for the next segment got drunk last night and is in a cell, waiting for his appearance in court tomorrow. We’re stuck a whole twenty minutes’ empty. Allan tells me that you two have something different that could fill the void. We can’t come back here again tomorrow. I’m desperate. Can you help?”

Marianne Gregory © 2022