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County Fair By The Professor Most of the year, I envy guys my age, growing up in cities like Omaha or Lincoln. They've got it made with concerts and big movie theaters - not little ones like the Rivoli here in Leeds - and all sorts of amusements. But every fall as the end of September rolls around, I start to feel a little sorry for them. That's because late September is when we celebrate the Carver County Fair. "Mr. Hall?" "Huh?" I looked up at Mr. Jackson, our American History teacher. There was a little smile under his bushy mustache. It was a smile of triumph, for he knew he had caught me daydreaming. "Would you like to tell the class what Fremont called Nebraska when he first visited?" "The Great American Desert," I replied, proud of my recovery. "Explain why," he commanded, a little nonplussed that I had been able to answer his question. I knew why. He was new to the school and thought just because I was the starting quarterback on the Leeds High School football team, I was just a dumb jock. Well, he was about to find out that although I had a penchant for daydreaming, I was a very smart jock. I went on to describe Fremont's early travels in what was now Nebraska and how the term he had coined referred more to the western part of the state where a treeless prairie had once existed. The forests of the eastern United States gave way to the plains not far to the west of Leeds where the rivers became more sparse, fed by more infrequent rains and the melting snows of the distant Rockies. And I watched with amusement as Mr. Jackson's disdain turned slowly to begrudging respect. "Very good, Mr. Hall," he allowed at last to the amusement of my classmates. They had seen the same little play acted out more than once in other classrooms - and not just with me as the hero. There were several of us in the class who were both talented athletes and top students. As Mr. Jackson moved on to a more promising victim, I was free to go back to my thoughts about the County Fair. As I was saying, guys in the city don't have county fairs - or if they do, they're no big thing. It's only in small towns like Leeds, Nebraska, that we get a couple of days off from school in late September just to attend the fair. For city kids, summer ends with the Labor Day weekend. There's not another significant long weekend until Thanksgiving, and in Nebraska that means mostly cold, dreary weather. But for kids in towns like Leeds, summer goes on all through September until after the County Fair. And this was going to be the best County Fair of all, I thought to myself. First, it was unusually warm for late September, so it would be like summer even at night and all the girls would be strolling around in shorts and tee-tops. And the other reason it would be the best County Fair was that this year, we were seniors! This would be the last great high school blast before the weather turned cold. Safe for the moment from Mr. Jackson's scrutiny, I though about how great the whole week would be. It was already Tuesday, and the rides were already being set up down at the new Carver County Fairgrounds. By the next day, they would be operating. Ron Cook, Kevin Foster, Andy O'Connor and I had all agreed to hang out together Wednesday night and take in the rides. We were all on the football team together and had grown up together. It would be a wild night. Then, Thursday night, we'd all take in the judging. That was the night all the art projects got judged for award ribbons. It wasn't that we were into amateur art, but several of the girls in our class had projects being judged, and it was a good idea to show up to stay on their good side. The hardest part was to pretend to be interested in their projects when we'd rather be on the rides. Friday night would be a big group date. Oh sure, some of the guys had steady girls, but most of us were a little more casual about that sort of thing. I had been dating Jennifer Doyle, a junior and a cheerleader over the summer, but it just hadn't worked out. We had split up three weeks before school. She wasn't real happy about it, but I wasn't ready to get serious about any girl just yet, with college and all just around the corner. The other guys I chummed around with were the same way, as were a number of the girls in our class. But Saturday night for the dance that marked the end of the County Fair, we'd all manage to pair off. Judy Castle wasn't exactly the girl next door - she lived about two blocks away and a couple of houses away from Ron. But she and I had been friends since the first grade, and we'd be going together. Judy and I dated every now and then when we were between steadies. We'd even do a little innocent necking whenever we did, but we both knew we'd always just be friends. That was by mutual agreement, I might add. So there it was, I thought as the class bell rang ending the period and announcing lunchtime. The next few days were all planned out - or so I thought. I had no way of knowing it, but the wheels were about to come off my plans as well as the plans of several of my friends. Unbeknownst to any of us, this would really be a County Fair we would never forget - but not for the reasons we thought. It was cool to be me. When I thought about it, I realized I had it all. I was one of the top athletes and one of the top students in my class. I was tall - about six-two - and well built, and the girls seemed to think I was reasonably good looking with my fair skin and well-trimmed brown hair and friendly blue eyes. And it didn't hurt that I was from good stock, too. My parents were comfortably well off. My father was a respected attorney and on the Leeds City Council and my mother was well-liked and came from a family that had settled in Leeds so long ago that one of the streets in town was named for them. She was involved in so many civic groups I couldn't keep count of them all. All I knew is that she was president of two of them. As I walked through the cafeteria, it was to a chorus of "Hi, Steve!" I smiled and acknowledged each of them. Yeah, I was popular, but I'm happy to say I didn't take advantage of it. I was just one of the guys. I've read stuff and watched TV shows where the jocks are real weenies who seem to split their time between ripping off girls' clothes and beating up on the shrimpy guys, but that's a real crock - at least from my experience. Maybe it's because schools in the cities are a little more stratified, with rich kids in one school and poor ones in another. Little towns like Leeds, where the population barely reaches seven thousand, aren't like that, though. We had rich kids, poor kids, and everything in between all attending the town's one high school. And for the most part, we all got along with each other -with a few exceptions. I plopped down with my heavily-laden lunch tray right next to Ron and across from Kevin and Andy. We greeted each other with the usual "heys" and gentle punches on the shoulder and slaps of the hands. "I hear you really steamed Mr. Jackson this morning," Andy chuckled. "What?" I said with a grin as I opened my milk carton. "I just answered his question." "I'll probably get the same treatment this afternoon in his class," Kevin commented while stuffing another French fry into his mouth. "He just doesn't like jocks." And he'd get the same response he got from me, I thought watching Kevin's intelligent face. He was our starting tailback although with his unruly blonde hair, he looked more like a surfer. But he was the only guy in the class who had a chance of catching Becky Marshall for valedictorian. Well, I guess I had a chance, but Kevin was a little above me in grade point. "I would have loved to have seen that," Andy said wistfully, pushing a shock of unruly red hair out of his face. Andy was the "dumb" one of our group. He only carried an A minus grade point. "Yeah," Ron agreed as he opened a third carton of milk next to me. "Steve got him good. I just wish he'd called on me." I was a little surprised he hadn't. If anybody in our group looked like the ultimate jock, it was Ron. Well muscled and six-four, with his light brown hair cut very short, Ron looked exactly like the wide receiver he was. But Ron was bright, too, just like Andy, Kevin and I. I think that - and a love of sports - was what initially attracted the four of us to each other. All of us planned on going to college together at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln. And all of us wanted to be good enough to play for the Cornhuskers, but I suspected only Ron would be good enough to get very far. He was easily the best athlete of our group, and probably the best one in the school. Suddenly Andy's eyes got wide as he looked behind me. "Don't look Now Steve, but here comes Lucas." "Oh shit!" I mumbled. Into each life a little rain must fall. Lucas was my brother. More to the point, he was my asshole brother. Oh, Lucas was bright enough and personable enough - for a freshman - but he had a bit of a reckless streak in him. When he was in eighth grade, he managed to get thrown off the basketball team for painting the windows on the coach's car black. He nearly got thrown out of school entirely when he tried to hack into the school computer and wipe out everyone's grades. If my father hadn't promised to remove the modem from Lucas's computer, I think he would have been kicked out of school. But he did well in school and always made sure his pranks didn't hurt anyone, so nobody came down on him too hard - most of the time. It had been okay when we were in separate schools. The junior high was four blocks away from the high school, so I didn't have to associate with Lucas when he was in eighth grade. Now though, he was in the same school with me, and there's such a thing as guilt by association. Now every time Lucas pulled one of his stunts, everyone would be looking at me with suspicion - especially since Lucas depended upon me for mobility. I had worked the past two summers saving up enough money to have a clunker - a ten year old Ford Tempo - to drive around in. Now Lucas wanted me to be his wheels whenever he wanted to pull a stunt. Even though I always refused, I was quickly becoming an implied accomplice. "Hey, big brother!" he greeted me. At least he didn't have a food tray or he'd probably have wanted to sit with us. That just wouldn't have been cool. After all, he was a freshman. "Uh, this is the senior table," Ron said with mock seriousness. "The freshman table is over there by the garbage cans." "Don't worry," Lucas said with one of his patented disarming grins. "I'm not staying." "That's for sure," Ron said laconically. Ignoring him, Lucas looked at me. "Dave Payne and I need a ride over to the fairgrounds tonight. How about it?" "The fair doesn't open until tomorrow," I pointed out. I wasn't sure what Lucas and Dave had planned, but I was sure they were up to no good. Dave followed Lucas's lead and was about as much of a prankster as Lucas. I really didn't want to be a part of it, whatever it was. "But you said you might be going by there tonight," he pointed out. "Yeah," I admitted, "but that was to earn some money - not to get into trouble." Ron and I had talked about picking up a little folding money helping the carnies set up the rides. The shows were often a few men short, so they didn't mind hiring the older kids - those of us who at least looked eighteen - to help out. "Maybe Dave and I can get hired on, too," Lucas ventured. "You're too young," I replied with the smugness only an older brother can muster. "No ride." "Shit!" Lucas went storming off. "Talk about an asshole!" The guys chuckled, as did I. It was fun to yank Lucas's chain every now and then. Besides, like I said, I didn't want people to think I had anything to do with his stunts. Well, Dave Payne had an older brother, too - a junior. Walt Payne was just stupid enough to give them the ride they wanted. I only hoped nobody with the carnival ever found out Lucas was my brother. Andy and Kevin slipped off to hang out with a couple of the cheerleaders while Ron and I firmed up plans to go to the fairgrounds and get hired on. While we were talking, Judy Castle slipped into the seat across from me. Her motley collection of fruit from the serving line and her bottle of mineral water from home were signs that she was back on a diet again. I could never understand women like Judy. She had a dynamite figure - yet she spent half her life on a diet. I pointed that out to her as she sat down. "Men!" she sighed with mock seriousness as she rolled her eyes. "How do you think I keep this dynamite figure?" "Hey, whatever makes you happy," I laughed. That was the sort of relationship Judy and I had enjoyed since we were little kids. "We still on for Saturday?" She shrugged, causing her long red hair to shake. "I suppose. Unless someone better comes along." I had to smile to myself at that. Judy never seemed to be particularly serious about any guy, although she dated regularly. Judy was another one of my classmates with good grades and high ambitions. She had her sights set on being a doctor like her father, and no romantic entanglements were about to slow her down. Matt Dillon could fly into town and ask for her hand and she'd probably laugh in his face. I was pretty much the same way. I had plans to eventually be a lawyer like my father. I didn't have time for a serious relationship either. That was what made Judy and I just right for each other - in a platonic sort of way naturally. "Hey, I'm better!" Ron said. "Yeah, and you didn't ask me out," Judy returned. Not that it would have done either of them any good. Judy wasn't Ron's type any more than Ron was Judy's type. Judy didn't care to date jocks -except me - and Ron had never been too fond of redheads like Judy. But they were friends nonetheless. "Say, who are you taking to the dance?" she asked Ron. Ron shrugged. "Nobody. I'm not going." I looked at my friend in surprise. "I thought you were going to take April Mathers." "She already had a date," he replied laconically. It never ceased to amaze me that Ron could bully a two hundred plus pound linebacker into getting out of his way on the field but was so shy around girls. I knew several girls who would have gladly gone out with Ron. In a way, it was a shame Ron and Judy weren't attracted to each other. She was one of the few girls Ron accepted as just one of the guys. I guess it was because Judy, Ron and I had played together when we were young children and what sex you were didn't matter much. "Oops!" Judy said, gathering up her mostly uneaten lunch. "I forgot. I've got to see Mr. Simpson about a referral letter." "Referral for what?" I asked. "College, dummy. I've got to get my applications together." And with that she was gone. "College?" I hadn't even started working on mine yet. Besides, I was planning on going to NU. With my grades, it would be no problem. But I guessed Judy was probably applying to a lot of out of state schools, so maybe she needed to get her stuff together sooner. Well, Judy was nothing if not organized. Classes drug by that afternoon. Outside the windows, it looked like a warm summer day and I wanted to be out in it. The thought of going out to the fairgrounds and working that evening appealed to me. It was like a grand adventure in a new locale. The old fairgrounds were at the foot of Main Street, just this side of the railroad tracks. They had been there for as long as there had been county fairs, but economics had changed all of that. Wheeler Foods was the largest company in Leeds. It's a small company that private brands vegetables and meat products liked canned stew, but as far as the City Fathers of Leeds were concerned, it might as well be General Motors. Very few people have heard of it, but nearly everyone in the country used one of their products without knowing it. Anyhow, Wheeler Foods was situated next to the railroad tracks, and they wanted to expand. The problem was that the best direction to expand was right into the fairgrounds. So Dan Wheeler's dad, the current president of the company, bought the last tract of land from the old Carver farm and traded it to the county in return for the old fairgrounds. He even offered to build a new exhibit hall and set up a monument commemorating the Carver Homestead. The Carvers had been the first family to settle in the county that now bore their name. We all learned about it in Nebraska History back in junior high. Jebediah Carver, his wife, son and daughter, made the trek from Ohio just before the Civil War and set up a farm that eventually grew into a large agricultural operation. But like many families, the Carvers eventually left the farm and the county. Parcel by parcel, the farm was sold off by the heirs until only a few acres remained in family control. For some reason, the Carvers had always held onto the last few acres. Word was that when Amelia Carver, Jebediah's daughter, had eventually inherited the entire farm, she had always insisted that the few acres around a thick grove of trees near town be held by the family. And strangely enough, she demanded the land remain fallow. No crops were ever raised on the land, in spite of the presence of a gentle stream on the property. She didn't even allow hunting, often calling in the sheriff in her later years to shoo off would-be hunters. Her heirs always honored her request. But now the last of the Carvers were gone, and the land had passed on to some distant cousins back in Ohio. They had been anxious to sell the land, so Mr. Wheeler made an offer on the land that was quickly accepted. Then he proposed a land swap, offering the town the new land for the county fair while he expanded onto the old fairgrounds. It was a good deal for everyone. Since eighty percent of the people in the county lived in Leeds, the County Commissioners quickly followed the City Council's lead in approving the move, and the result of it all was a new venue for the county fair. I hadn't been out to the fairgrounds since the formal dedication just before Labor Day. That was when they dedicated the monument to the Carvers down near the grove of trees on Red Willow Creek. We had all enjoyed a fine celebration that day, with all the city and county officials and their families in attendance. Dan Wheeler's dad spoke and told everybody about the two hundred new jobs down at the plant that would be possible because of the land swap. And in general, a good time was had by all. So after school and football practice, I hurried home to grab a quick bite to eat so I could join Ron and try to get hired on setting up the rides and all. Usually, we ate as a family, but Mom was going to be busy with some of the fair exhibits put up by her various civic groups and wasn't going to be home until late. Lucas was eating at Dave Payne's house, so that just left Dad and me. Dad had a late meeting with a client, so he had come home early to eat. "I warmed up some extra meatloaf," he told me after I had changed into some work clothes for the evening. "If you want anything else, you're on your own." "Meatloaf is great," I told him, piling a couple of slabs on my plate. That, a couple of slices of bread, and a glass or two of milk were just enough to hold me. Maybe Ron and I would stop off for a burger after work - assuming we got work. Dad was just finishing up. "I know you're trying to get work tonight, so just leave the dishes in the sink. I'll get them when I get home." "Going to be late?" I asked, diving into my dinner. "Not too late," he replied. "I need to meet with Gus Travis about that work injury of his, but he doesn't get off until seven." "It's only six now," I noted. "What's the hurry?" "I've got to run by Doc Winter's clinic. She took some pictures of the monument out at the fairgrounds. I thought I'd see how they came out. See you later." I was going to have to get my ears checked, I thought to myself. I knew Doc Winter had taken a few pictures out at the monument for the official records. Photography was Doc's second love, next to the veterinary clinic. The problem was I could have sworn Dad had said "she" had the pictures. Dr. Samuel J. Winter was many things, but definitely not a "she." I must have just heard him wrong, I told myself. I picked up Ron and headed out to the fairgrounds. There was still plenty of light in the warm early evening, so the carnival should be pretty well set up before it got too dark. We could see the truck trailers emblazoned with "Midwest Rides and Attractions" emblazoned in bright red on the side. Most of them looked as if they had already been unloaded. We reported in at the small trailer that served as an office for the show. One look at our size and the manager hired us on the spot. We'd be paid in cash at the end of the night, so there'd be no annoying payroll taxes withheld. Hey, we were not quite eighteen. Why should we want Social Security tax and all that stuff taken out of our pay? Ron and I were assigned setting up the Tilt-a-Whirl. That's the ride where roundish carts open to the front twirl along on a wavy pathway. It's a fairly tame ride, but sometimes you can get them spinning fast enough to get a thrill. It's particularly fun when the mild g-forces spin you into a nice looking girl sitting next to you. It's a way to cop a feel and make it look like the spin of the cart made you do it. Marty James was working with us, and he was hurting. Marty was a big guy - nearly my size - but he was a little out of shape. What had probably appeared to the foreman to be muscle was really fat. He huffed and puffed, partially for effect, so Ron and I gave him a hand. "Thanks, guys," he said when we were given a short break before helping to set up the merry-go-round. "Man, I gotta get in shape!" "You've been saying that for years, Marty," I pointed out as I handed him a cold drink from the cooler provided for the crew. And it was true. Like most of the guys in my class, I had known Marty since I was a toddler. Our fathers were on City Council together, and we attended the same church. As long as I had known Marty, he had a tendency to be a little chubby. Like I said, he didn't appear fat - just a little on the pudgy side. He was the kind of guy who would be a wheezing fat man by the time he reached forty. "Damn!" he muttered, sniffing at one of his pits. "I'm gonna pit out this shirt." "So what's the big deal?" Ron laughed. "You have a hot date?" "As a matter of fact I do." "What?" Ron and I chorused. Marty was one of those guys who didn't date much. It wasn't that he was ugly or anything. He really wasn't a bad looking guy in spite of his weight, and I would have pegged him about average in intelligence and personality. But he was always reaching a little too high. He couldn't understand why the cheerleaders and the other hot girls in the school preferred more toned, personable guys. "So who's the unlucky girl?" I asked. He nodded. "Her." It was getting dark, so we didn't get a good look at who he was nodding at. Whoever she was, she must have had a dark complexion, for I couldn't make out her features in the evening shade of a nearby refreshment stand that was being built. I could make out her figure though - small, slim and well-shaped, framed by coils of dark hair. "Jeez, Marty, you hit the jackpot," Ron commented. "She looks okay." "She looks more than okay," I said, noting the gleam of white teeth as she smiled in the dim light. "Who is she?" "She works for the carnival," Marty explained. "I met her over by the manager's trailer. She's hot for me too, guys. She's a fortuneteller." "So did she look in her crystal ball and tell you you were going to get lucky tonight?" Ron quipped. "Something like that," Marty replied. "We just started talking and she asked me back to her trailer after work. Of course I said yes." "Of course," we agreed. With that we started back to work, but as I dropped the Cola can into the trash, I couldn't help but think she was staring at me from the shadows. I could almost feel her dark eyes looking all the way into my soul, and I could swear I saw the flash of white teeth. I shook my head. I had to be imagining it. Marty called it quits about an hour later, collecting his pay and heading off to meet the friendly fortuneteller. I hoped he wouldn't have a heart attack when he got to her. As out of shape as he was, he was still huffing when he left with his money. Ron and I were kept on for a little longer, but by nine, everything was pretty well set up. Both of us felt good. It had been physical work and the money we now shoved in our wallets would come in handy. We were about to leave, our money collected, when I heard a small, high voice call from the shadows, "S...Steve?" I looked around and saw the outline of a girl. She was young - no more than thirteen or fourteen - but I didn't recognize her. It was funny, because as she tentatively stepped from the shadows, I could see she was really cute and looked just a little bit familiar. She was probably a freshman, I thought, and I was under the impression that I had already taken note of all the cute freshman girls, but somehow I had missed her. Still, as I said, she looked a little familiar, with her blue eyes that sparkled once she moved out into the light and her long, light brown hair. She was dressed in a feminine pink tee with a neckline low enough to display growing breasts, and her legs were well displayed in a very short khaki mini. As she nervously approached me, she seemed to wobble a little bit, perched on those wedge sandals that are like a casual high heel. Her makeup and jewelry were as sophisticated as their equivalents on girls in my class, giving her a more mature look. Along with the mature appearance, there was a shadow of something else - confusion, I thought. It was as if she knew something was wrong. I began to realize the sparkle in her eye was light reflecting tears. "Steve?" she said again, a quaver in her voice. "Yeah," I replied, a little alarmed by the look of fear and disorientation on her face. "I'm sorry, but I don't know your name..." "Oh Steve!" she exclaimed, her voice wavering. "It's me... Lucas!" With that, she broke into a sob and threw herself against me. It was probably the last thing in the world I expected to hear - and the most incredible. While the girl did look faintly like my brother, I didn't believe for an instant what she had just said. Still, I instinctively put an arm around me. What guy wouldn't when a hot looking girl wrapped herself around his body? But I knew there was no way this attractive creature could be my brother. I sensed one of Lucas's devilish pranks coming up, and I was determined not to fall for it. Ron sensed the same thing. As I stood there holding the sobbing girl, he calmly said, "Gee, Steve, I didn't know your brother was a transvestite." That brought a grin to my face, but the girl had her head buried too far in my chest to see it. Now from past experience, I knew that when Lucas plans a stunt, the best thing to do is pretend to go along with it until I could figure out where he was going with it - although this particular prank seemed almost too much to use that tactic. Surely Lucas had to know that there was no way in the world that I would believe this girl's assertion that she was somehow my brother. I supposed I was expected to believe that my brother had been made up to look like a girl. If that was his expectation, I thought, he would soon be disappointed, because while he had undoubtedly chosen her because of a faint resemblance to him, there was no way that the person in my arms could have been a boy made up to look like a girl. The curves and swells of her small body -smaller than Lucas's I might add - were very obviously feminine, and I was a little embarrassed to note that she was making me hard. "You want to tell me what this is all about?" I asked softly. The sobbing stopped for a moment. She looked up at me, hope emerging from her tear-filled eyes. "You mean... you mean you believe me?" I gently pushed her away from me, careful not to appear to reject her or overbalance her on her wedges. "I didn't say I believed you yet," I clarified. "Tell me what this is all about first and then I'll decide if I believe you or not." She closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she nodded and said, "I guess that's fair. Look, Steve, I've seen that look in your eyes before. I know you're just stringing me along. But let me tell you what happened. Then maybe you'll believe me." "I doubt it," I told her, "but you can try." "You know Dave and I were going to be here tonight," she began. "We got here a couple of hours ago. Dave's older brother dropped us off. Mostly we just wanted to look around. You know - figure out if there were any good rides this year and look over the booths and figure out which games we had a chance of beating." That was innocent enough. I had often done the same thing with my friends when I was too young to work setting up the show. I nodded. "Then we spotted the fortuneteller's booth. It was already set up just in front of the trailers." Again I nodded. I had noticed it myself earlier and figured that was where Marty was now - trying his best to get laid. Now her face reddened a little. "We suddenly thought it would be neat to snag her crystal ball. You know those things are neat." I had an uncomfortable little twinge. Lucas actually did think they were neat. He had a couple of crystal balls - paperweights actually - in his room and often liked to hold them up to the light to watch the colors shift along the surface. "There was nobody in the booth," she went on. "Or at least I didn't think there was. Dave was pretty nervous about the whole thing. He stood lookout while I scooped the ball up off a table in the back of the booth. Some lookout he was. She got in from the other side. I didn't even see an entrance there. But you should have seen her. She's Indian - American Indian, I mean. Long dark hair. Good looking." Again I felt a little uncomfortable. I had seen the fortuneteller and she did indeed look like the girl's description. Still, the best lies are laced with elements of the truth. Ask any politician. "She grabbed me. Then she accused me of trying to take her crystal ball. The next thing I know she's chanting something. It sounded like what the Indians are saying to each other in those ceremonies in the movies. You know what I mean. It's almost like a song. The next thing I know my body feels weird. It didn't exactly hurt, but it was like the feeling you get when you have a muscle spasm and things start moving around without any conscious control. It's like your arm last spring..." I nodded. The previous spring I had pinched a nerve in my throwing arm. For a few days, I seemed to lack complete control over my arm. It was curious that Lucas would tell the girl that particular story to make her identity sound more credible. "So my body started changing while she held on. God, you should have seen the grin on her face. It was like an animal. What's the word I'm looking for?" "Feral," I told her. She thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, that's the word. It was a feral grin. I tried to break free, but I couldn't. She wasn't that big and I should have been able to break away, but I couldn't. It was as if she was sapping my strength as she held me. I could feel everything shifting inside me - bones, organs, skin hair, everything." "Where was Dave in all of this?" Ron asked. I looked at him strangely, realizing he was actually getting caught up in the story. "The pussy ran off," she muttered. Then, surprisingly, she gave a little laugh. "That's good. Who am I calling a pussy? Look at me." I had to admit, she even talked a little like Lucas. The inflections were similar for one thing. And Lucas had a habit of calling people pussies and worse. But I knew that she was just playing along with Lucas. She had to be. After all, it was completely impossible for a person's sex to be changed that way. It had to be. "Okay, great story," I said loudly so that Lucas could hear me if he was hiding in the shadows. "You've had your fun, Lucas, but we aren't buying it." I was talking loudly enough to be heard all over the place, sure that Lucas was lurking behind a tree or a parked car. "Damn it, Steve, weren't you listening?" she practically wailed. "It's me! I'm your brother." "So okay," I laughed, "you're a great actress, whoever you are. Now run along." Her look of anger and frustration turned to one of fear. "You... you aren't going to leave me out here, are you?" I wanted to leave her there, but it wasn't a good idea. Leeds was a quiet little town, but bad things could happen in quiet little towns, too. That might be especially true if one of the rougher carnival workers spotted her cute little body and decided to see what he could get away with. "All right," I sighed. "I'll give you a ride back into town." The fairgrounds were just on the edge of town, so we didn't have far to go. In spite of my insistence that she tell me where she lived, she just wanted to be dropped off at my house. I supposed she was going to meet Lucas there later. Dave's older brother was probably picking them up. The girl rode silently in the back seat. I thought I heard her whimpering every now and then, but I wasn't sure, and I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of asking her what was wrong. I looked over at Ron who was examining something. "What's that?" "It's a purse," Ron said. "She must have dropped it while getting in the car. I thought I'd find out who she was. It must be hers. But it's funny she didn't ask about it. It was just lying on the ground over by where we first saw her." "Give me that!" she demanded when she heard what we were talking about. "Not just yet," Ron told her as he rummaged around in her purse. "I want to know who you really are." He extracted an ID, looked at it in the light of the street lamps on Main Street, and began to frown. "What's wrong?" I asked him. Silently, he passed the ID to me. We were stopped at a traffic light, so I had a moment to study the ID. It was a standard ID issued by Leeds High School to all students. The picture on it was certainly the girl in the back seat. I froze as I looked at the name on the card: Lisa Ann Hall. I handed the ID back to Ron. "It's a fake." "Are you sure?" Ron asked. "What's wrong with you? You don't really think someone changed my brother into a girl, do you? I'll tell you what's happened. Lucas and Dave probably got into the office and made up this ID for their little girlfriend." I looked back at the sullen girl in the back seat. "It isn't going to work, sweetheart." "Fuck you!" she said, dabbing her eyes with her hand, causing her makeup to run. "No time," I told her. "We're home - my home that is." Ron said goodnight and headed off for his house a couple of blocks away. He had said he wanted to walk or he would be stiff in the morning from our workout at the carnival. When he was gone, I looked at the girl. "This is where we part company," I told her. "It's not too late though. If you'll just tell me where you live, I'll drop you off." "Fuck you." "You already said that." "Then bite my ass." Before I could think of a snappy comeback, she turned and headed for the house. The front door was unlocked, and before I could stop her, she was inside. I was right behind her though. The next few moments changed my entire view of reality. Up until then, I was convinced that my brother was playing an elaborate prank with the help of a willing and talented young actress. I had shown my determination to not fall for the stunt. But there are two people in the world I knew who hated Lucas's pranks more than I did - our parents. And the two of them were waiting for us when I rushed in the door after the strange girl. By chance, my mother was in the entryway when we walked in. She had just gotten back home herself, and my father was standing there talking to her. "Lisa, what's wrong?" my mother asked with concern upon seeing the girl's makeup-streaked face. I don't know who was more shocked - me or the girl. She skidded to a stop in front of Mother and asked, "What did you just call me?" Mother laughed. "Why Lisa, of course. What else should I call you?" Lucas, I thought. She should call him - her - Lucas. No, that wasn't right. There was no way on Earth that my mother would have played along with a prank like the one I thought Lucas was pulling. My eyes tracked over to the family portrait hanging on the entryway wall. There were Mom and Dad, smiling in acknowledgement of their bountiful lives. There I was, trying to look older than the fifteen years I had achieved at the time the picture was taken, and there was...Lucas? No, there was Lisa in the picture. There was a girl, ten or eleven at the time, her long hair looking almost more blonde than brown, a smile on her face as she stood there in her pale blue dress... Oh shit. "Yes, what's wrong, sweetheart?" my father asked with a slight glance in my direction to see if she had been crying because of something I had said or done. "I...I..." she began. I didn't know what was going on, but enough had happened to convince me that the unhappy girl before me was what had become of my brother. Yet for some reason, our parents noticed nothing strange. I had to come up with an answer for them before "Lisa" said something wrong. "She had an argument with her boyfriend," I explained quickly. The girl who had been Lucas turned on me in a heartbeat, and I thought I was going to be subjected to another of her foul-mouthed tirades. But then she saw the desperate look in my eyes and realized that while she and I might remember a person named Lucas, our parents knew only of Lisa. "Yes, that's it," she said in a small voice as I gave a quiet sigh of relief. "Oh, Lisa," our mother said, putting a comforting arm around the girl. I couldn't help but note that when Lucas had left for the fairgrounds, he was a good three inches taller than Mom. Now he was shorter by at least that same amount. "Don't worry. I'm sure you and Dave will work it out. He's such a nice boy." I saw the fear in the girl's eyes as she realized that my parents thought her friend Dave was now her boyfriend. The obvious question in her mind was how many other people thought that - and did Dave now think he was her boyfriend? "Uh...yeah, Mom," she said, gently moving away from Mom's comforting arm. "I need to go to bed now. I'll be fine; don't worry." I realized she just needed to get up to her room and away from our parents. They apparently had no way of knowing that they were freaking both of us out. Neither of us had expected what we saw and heard when we walked in the door. "I'll check up on her," I volunteered, following the girl who had been my brother up the stairs. I'm sure our parents thought we were both acting a little weird. If only they knew, but apparently they had no idea what had happened. As far as they were concerned, they had always had a daughter named Lisa. There was no Lucas - never had been. I found my new sister sitting in a nearly catatonic state on the bed in her room. I suppose I should have expected the room that had been Lucas's to be changed, but it just hadn't crossed my mind. I was too worried about my brother to think about that. It must have been mind- blowing for her to throw open the door of her room and find that everything she remembered - every trophy or memento - had been changed or removed. "Holy shit!" I said softly. Everything was feminine. Every corner of the room announced that a girl lived there. An open closet door showed a rack of girl's clothing, with pair after pair of girl's shoes spread across the floor. Instead of a tall chest of drawers, there was a lower set now supplemented by a vanity. The colors were soft pastels - the walls a cream color and the drapes a slightly lemon shade. I suppose it could have been worse. Everything could have been pink. "So now you believe me," the girl on the bed mumbled, her lower lip trembling as if she were about to cry again. "I believe you, Lucas," I replied, sitting next to her on the bed. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you before, but this is... well, it's pretty unbelievable." "I guess I can't blame you," she said softly. "If somebody else told me this had happened to them, I wouldn't believe them either. I really don't believe it myself." "Maybe it will wear off," I offered lamely. She looked at me with sad eyes. "I don't think so." She fell back on the bed, hair spilling over the covers and her small breasts shifting beneath her tee. I couldn't help myself - I was staring at her. Her smooth legs wrapped in fine nylon, her widening hips, her slim waist, her small but pronounced breasts, and her attractive face and hair were worth looking at. Even if she had been my brother, it was hard to think of her as my new sister. "Steve, what am I going to do?" "Tell me again what happened." This time as she told me about the Indian fortuneteller and the transformation, I listened more closely. After all, this time I believed her. There was one important addition to the story though, but I had to ask her about it first. "Did she say anything - anything at all when she changed you?" She thought for a moment. She was sitting up Now closing her eyes to try to remember the details. "Yeah, she did. When she caught me, she said something. It sounded like 'walking talking.' Then she grabbed me even tighter. She just laughed and chanted while I...I...changed. Then, when it was over, she left. I was too stunned to stop her. The... change didn't exactly hurt, but it takes a lot out of you. But just before she left, she said something like 'tell your father to let me go.' I don't know what she meant. It didn't seem to make any sense." It didn't make any sense to me either. Walking, talking? What could that mean? And as for the part about our father, that meant nothing to me. It was crazy. Everything was crazy. An Indian fortuneteller changes my brother into a girl - then babbles something about walking and talking and demands that my father let her go. It didn't make any sense at all. "S...Steve?" "Yeah, Lucas." "What am I gonna do? I don't want to be a girl." How was I to respond to that? There were still tears in her eyes and her lower lip was trembling. She looked as if she was about to curl up into a little ball and die. I hadn't seen Lucas even cry since I accidentally hit him in the head with a baseball when he was ten. But this slip of a girl he had become looked ready to burst into tears if I said the wrong thing. "We'll have to find a way to get you changed back," I told... her. It was hard to think of Lucas as a guy any more. All the pronouns were changing in my head. I supposed if we couldn't find a way to change her back that I would have to start calling her Lisa. I must have said the right thing, I thought. There was actually a little look of hope in her eyes. "Do... do you think she would change me back?" "Sure," I said confidently, although I didn't feel confident. "We'll go over there in the morning before school and demand that she change you back. Remember, Dad's on the City Council. We've got some leverage." "Let's go now," Lucas suggested brightly. "I think I know which trailer is hers. It's the one that says 'Madame Laura' on the side." In a frighteningly feminine gesture, she swept the long hair out of her face and grabbed her purse. "We can't tonight," I told her, grimacing as the sad, tortured look returned to her face and her shoulders slumped. "Why not?" "It's almost eleven," I pointed out. "I don't think Mom and Dad would let me out of the house this late on a school night. They're certainly not going to let my little sister out that late." I regretted calling her that as I did it, but I had to say it. If it were possible for her to look more abject, I don't know how she would have accomplished it. By calling her my little sister, I had driven home her new status. She knew in that moment - maybe for the first time - that the freedom she had enjoyed as a male had just been seriously curtailed. If she remained female, she'd be subjected to earlier curfews and expected to conform to the usual female norms. "I don't think I can stand to wait until tomorrow," she said, barely above a whisper. "If I do, I'll have to get ready for bed and..." I knew where she was going with that. She'd have to see herself naked. She'd have to acknowledge her growing breasts and the void between her legs. If she had to go to the bathroom, it would involve sitting to pee. She'd have to dress herself in something soft and feminine and go to bed with the knowledge of who and what she was. "You can do it," I assured her. "But what if she won't change me back?" "Then you'll just have to be a girl. At least our parents think you've always been a girl. Maybe Ron and I are the only ones who know you used to be a guy. Maybe it's because we were fairly close to you when you transformed. Maybe everybody in your class remembers you as a girl." I knew that was an unsettling thought to her, but it was probably even more unsettling to think about going to school and having all her classmates realize she had been changed. I had no way of knowing who would remember Lucas and who would not, but at least my theory sounded more palatable to her than being made fun of by her friends. "If you're right, then Dave will know," she pointed out. "He was there tonight." "Dave's your best friend," I reminded her. "If anybody is sympathetic to your...situation, it should be Dave." "Maybe you're right," she finally sighed. "I'll just go to bed and try to get some rest." "Good idea," I agreed, getting up from the bed. "I'll see you in the morning. Get up about an hour early and we'll go down to the fairgrounds." As I started for the door, she called after me, "Steve?" I stopped and turned, surprised by the quickness of her small form as she leaped from the bed and threw her arms around me. "Thanks, Steve." Uncomfortably I put my arm around her. She seemed so small and frail compared to the broad, developing shoulders I remembered on Lucas. "That's what brothers are for." I got ready for bed myself, avoiding the bathroom I shared with Lucas so that she would have the time to examine herself without interference. I knew that would be what she would do. I didn't know if Lucas had ever seen a naked girl before, and she wouldn't miss what was hopefully her only opportunity to do so. I was almost ready to turn out the lights when I remembered something I should have remembered earlier, but the furor surrounding my brother's transformation had pushed all other thoughts from my mind. Marty had a date with the fortuneteller. Of course there was no reason to assume that she would change him into a girl. After all, she had caught Lucas trying to steal her crystal ball and punished him. Marty was a whole different situation, wasn't he? It was very late. Our parents had already gone to bed, and I had heard the door to Lucas's room close as well. I imagined the same scenario was in play at Marty's house. I couldn't call him without pissing off his parents. Besides, like me, he was a senior. His parents might have cut him a little slack about what time to be home. He might still be out with the fortuneteller. Well, I thought as I drifted off to sleep, like Lucas's situation, it would just have to wait until morning. I was awakened the next morning by a feminine yelp - or scream. I wasn't sure which. I jumped out of bed, thinking at first it was my mother. Then as I reached the door, I remembered what had happened to Lucas. I threw open the door to her room and was greeted by another scream. She was standing there with a white nightie at her feet. She was wearing nothing but a pair of white panties, her small breasts exposed. In a gesture so feminine that I think it shocked both of us, she threw her hands over her breasts. "What's the idea of barging in here?" she asked angrily. "Sorry!" I quickly turned my back. "I heard you screaming." "Oh, yeah," she said, a little chagrinned. "I just forgot what had happened when I woke up. I looked down at myself and screamed before I realized what was wrong." That was understandable. I probably would have done the same thin, I realized. "I'm sorry, Lucas. I just wasn't thinking." "It's okay," she sighed, and I heard the soft rustle of clothes. "You can turn around now." When I did, I saw she was wearing a light cotton robe. It was peach colored, and I had to admit she looked damned cute in it. If she remained a girl, she'd be a real heart-breaker someday. "And maybe you'd better call me Lisa," she suggested. "The rents might not understand if you start calling me Lucas." "Okay...Lisa." I hadn't thought about our parents. Had they heard us? No, I didn't think so. It sounded as if Dad was in the shower and Mom must already be downstairs fixing breakfast. Both of our parents were early risers. Even given that Lucas...er...Lisa and I had gotten up an hour earlier than usual, we still hadn't beaten them up. In fact, Dad was usually gone before we even rolled out of bed. "I really should take a shower," Lisa mused. "We need to get out to the fairgrounds," I pointed out. "You can shower later." "No, I'm going to take one now," she said decisively. "Well, no arguing with a woman," I reckoned. For that, she threw a pillow at me. "Rat!" I went back to my room and got dressed. I'd shower later at school. One of the advantages of being on the football team was that I had access to the locker room. I was a little unsettled, though. When I had talked with Lukas the night before, she had acted as I would have expected anyone in her position to act. She was frightened and confused, but she still sounded like Lucas. By morning, though, something about her had changed. Oh, she still remembered who she had been, but she was starting to act like a girl. First, she had covered her breasts. Well, I supposed that was natural enough. She was probably embarrassed to have them. Then she had decided to take a shower. While Lucas wasn't exactly one of the unclean, he would never have put off our mission just to take a shower. And finally, when I had insulted her, all she did was throw a pillow and call me a rat. A rat! The old Lucas would have tried to pound on me while calling me names that would make a pimp blush. Maybe there was something about her transformation that transcended the physical. I knew from my studies that the body uses sleep time to sort and file the experiences of the day in the mind. Perhaps the experience of being a girl, complete with the new balance of chemicals running through her mind, were causing her to be more like the girl she appeared to be. Or maybe it was just part of the spell. Or then again, maybe she was just flipping out. Well, whatever the reason, we needed to get out to the fairgrounds and find that fortuneteller. "You're up early," Mom said as I rushed into the kitchen. "Yeah," I agreed, grabbing a box of cereal, a bagel and some cream cheese. Mom was just finishing her coffee, but she stayed at the table to talk with me. She said it was the only time of the day she got to talk to me alone. "Did I hear you and your sister arguing?" I grimaced. It was so difficult to have her refer to her as my sister. It seemed somehow sad that she didn't even remember Lucas. "No," I replied, pouring a large orange juice for myself. "I just told her we needed to hurry this morning." After a moment's thought I added, "There's an assembly at school." That should be enough to keep her from being too curious, I thought. Otherwise she'd ask as dozen questions about where we were going so early in the morning. That was, assuming it was still early in the morning when we left. Lisa's shower looked to be a long project. Fortunately I had ducked in and out of the bathroom before she got in there. It was going to be a pain in the butt sharing a bathroom with a girl. There was another reason to get her changed back to normal as soon as possible. The doorbell rang suddenly. "Get that please, Steve," Mom said. "I'm still in my robe and I don't even have any makeup on." I shook my head. What was it with women and makeup? I'd never understand. As I opened the door, I saw a woman I had never seen before. She was fairly tall and about forty. She was attractive for an older woman, although not what I would call beautiful. Her hair was a dark but vibrant brown, pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wore a white lab coat over her dress with the words "Winter Veterinary Clinic" emblazoned on the pocket. "Hi, Steve," she said with a bright smile that made her look even more attractive. "I was going to give these pictures..." She thrust a packet into my hand. "...to your father last night, but I got called out to the Henderson farm to treat a sick horse. Just tell him these are his copies. I developed them for him. I got some great shots. I even took a couple in the evening when it was all lit up." "Uh...sure." "Hi, Doc," my mother called from the kitchen door. "Hi, Linda," the woman mother called Doc replied with a smile. Doc? She smiled again. "Well, I'd better get to work. Nice to see you again, Steve. I'll talk to you later, Linda." She wiggled her fingers in a classically feminine goodbye and turned to get back to the Ford Explorer I knew Doc Winter drove. I just stood there in the doorway, watching her go. It wasn't just that I was following the motions of an attractive woman. It was that I was following the motions of an attractive woman who shouldn't have existed. Doc Winter was a man - or should have been. He should have been a guy about six three in height, balding, and somewhat angular. Doc was divorced with no kids and considered by my mother's single friends to be something of a catch. Or at least he had been. And either this Doc Winter was a very good actress or she had no idea she had ever been anyone else except the person she now was. Was this going to happen to Lisa? Would she forget who she had been and start to act more and more like a girl? I hoped not. I had too many good memories (and a few bad ones) of my brother that I would rather not lose - or have Lisa lose. And speaking of Lisa, she came bounding down the stairs, hair bouncing as she did. To my surprise, she wore a denim skirt, sandals, and a rather revealing white top. She even had a bracelet, necklace, and a couple of rings on. And she was wearing makeup. It wasn't a lot - just a little eye shadow and lipstick, but it was makeup. She noticed my open mouth. "Look, bro, I've got to play the part, don't I? What if we don't find the fortuneteller and everyone remembers me as a girl?" "I suppose," I said with a shrug, although I suspected there was more to her appearance than that. "Are you sure you want to be changed back?" "More than anything," she replied. "Look, I can't explain why I'm thinking the way I'm thinking. I know it doesn't make any sense to my male side either. In some ways, that makes it all the worse. I feel as if there's another person inside me pulling all the switches. Up in my room I wanted to call you a... Well, let's just say I wanted to call you something worse than a rat. But it just didn't seem like a good idea." "Can you say cocksucker?" I asked seriously. "Sure," she replied. "Cocksucker. See? There's nothing magical keeping me from saying it. It just when I had the opportunity to call you something, 'rat' seemed about right and cocksucker seems not right. So are we going?" "Don't you want something to eat?" Lucas had an appetite greater than my considerable one, but Lisa shook her head. "Let's go," she said heading for the door. "I want to find that fortuneteller and get back to normal." I had been so intent on getting Lisa back to normal that I hadn't considered how carnival shows operated. Since their crews had worked late into the evening getting set up, not much was going on in the early morning light. A few people were moving around, but for the most part, there was no activity. On the other hand, that was probably a good thing. It meant the fortuneteller was probably in her trailer. As we approached the trailer, I began to feel my confidence draining. Usually I got what I wanted when I tried. I was smart, reasonably good looking and athletic. I came from a good family that was locally prominent and I had a predictably bright future, so most people could be convinced to see things my way. But as I knocked on the trailer door, I began to realize I just might be out of my element. The fortuneteller was capable of magic - something I hadn't realized even existed. Not only was there a danger that she wouldn't turn Lisa back into Lucas, but there was the distinct possibility that she might do something to me as well. I decided the best course of action was humility. Bluster wouldn't help in this matter. The door opened slowly and cautiously. Peering out was a woman, but not an Indian. The woman was blonde, but there were enough dark roots to indicate that she certainly wasn't a natural blonde. Her hair was brushed but not carefully, as if she had been up for a while but hadn't expected visitors. I estimated her age to be about thirty, and she wasn't unattractive, but she did have the look of a woman who had not had a particularly easy life. She was wearing a robe which she bundled more tightly around her when she saw me. "Yeah, what do you want? It's a little early to have your fortune told." Her voice was a little sultry. I could imagine that when she was fully awake and dolled up, she was probably quite attractive and looked every bit the part of a fortuneteller. "Uh...sorry to bother you," I said quickly. "We were looking for the other fortuneteller - the Indian one." She frowned. "What Indian? You kids been smoking the funny stuff? There's barely enough business in these little towns for me, let alone another fortuneteller." "But there was an Indian woman in your booth last night," Lisa insisted. "She said - " "And what the hell were you doing in my booth last night?" the fortuneteller demanded. "And what was this Indian doing there?" "Maybe we made a mistake," I said in a placating tone. "I guess everybody just assumed she was the fortuneteller. Maybe she does something else with the show. Do you know who she might be? She's a attractive woman, long dark hair, Indian ancestry..." "Look, kid, there's nobody like that with the show, and I've been here three years so I'd know if there was. You kids look like she owes you money." "Something like that," Lisa mumbled. "Are you sure you can't help us? We'd really appreciate it." That last statement came out sounding like a forlorn little girl trying to get someone to help her find her doll. Either it was a great act or Lisa was becoming more girlish than I could have ever imagined. I prayed it was just an act. "About the only thing I could do is tell your fortune," she grinned. "For whatever good that would do." "Thanks anyway," I said. "Sorry to have bothered you." "Now what?" Lisa sighed dejectedly as the trailer door closed. "Let's check with the carnival office," I suggested. "Maybe this Indian was just pretending to be the fortuneteller. The office may know who she is." But that didn't do any good either. The show manager said there was no one with the show to match the description we gave him. He also told us that Wanda - the blonde fortuneteller - had last been seen going for a walk about sundown, so anyone who saw her go could have known it was safe to be snooping around her booth. So it could have been anyone. "Steve, I'm getting scared again," Lisa said, clutching my arm as we walked back to my car. "What am I going to do? I can't go to school like... like this!" I felt very badly for her. I had promised to help her and she had depended on me. But nothing had come of it. When I got to school, I'd talk to Marty since he had a date with the supposed fortuneteller. That is, if Marty was still Marty. I had a bad feeling that he and Lisa were in the same fix. "Maybe it won't be so bad," I told Lisa. "Maybe everybody remembers you as Lisa - just like our parents." "Maybe," she admitted, but I could see that she didn't really believe it. We drove silently to school. I could see Lisa turning paler as we approached the parking lot. I think I had more respect for my sibling than I ever had before. She had agreed to tough it out and go to school as a girl. I wondered if I would have the same resolve if I were in her shoes. "Do you want me to go with you to your first class?" I asked her. She shook her head. "I gotta do this by myself." We were standing just out the school. A few of the guys and even some of the girls had looked at her strangely, although Ms Patterson, the Freshman English teacher had cheerfully greeted her with a "Good morning, Lisa" on her way into the building. I put my arm around her tiny waist and said, "Good luck, sis." "Thanks. I'll need it." I thought about Lisa all through first period. I wondered how she was getting along. But I had something else to wonder about by second period. Marty was supposed to be in that class with me, but his seat was empty. It was Mr. Rustin's math class, and he hated it whenever anyone cut class. Viewing the empty seat, he challenged the class, "Does anyone know where Ms James is this morning?" There was a soft gasp from some of the class members, and a little whispering. Most looked confused, but I knew at once what was going on. Marty James didn't exist anymore, but a quick look at Ron told me that I was the only one in the room that had any inkling of what had actually happened to him. Judy started to say, "Mr. Rustin, do you mean Mart - " "She's sick today!" I blurted out. Judy looked at me as if I had just lost my mind. Well it was too late to stop now so I continued, "I talked to her last night. It's the flu." By now everyone in the class - even Ron - was looking at me as if I was a candidate for my very own rubber room. "Well, her mother needs to call and let the office know," Mr. Rustin said sternly. "If you talk to her again, Mr. Hall, tell her that." "I will, sir." After class, several of my fellow students grouped around me. "Just what were you babbling about in there?" Judy wanted to know. "I know," Kevin chimed in. "I talked to my sister after first period. She's in class with Steve's brother, only Lucas is a girl." "What?" everyone seemed to say at once. "You mean that girl last night... that was a no-shitter?" Ron asked. I nodded. "It was a no-shitter." Between Ron and I, we filled in our friends in the few minutes between classes. Most of them, of course, didn't want to believe us, but Mr. Rustin's reference to Ms James gave them little choice. "So what are you going to do now?" Judy asked as the group broke up heading for their next classes. "I'm going to check on my... sister after the next class and go over to Marty's house." "Then I'm coming with you," Judy told me. I was in no position to argue with her. Besides, I really didn't want to face the new Marty all by myself. It turned out Lisa wanted to go, too. Her morning had gone about as well as it could have under the circumstances. As it turned out, all of her fellow students believed her, but only because Dave Payne verified her story and - more importantly - every one of her teachers remembered her as Lisa Ann Hall. They were strangely accepting of her story. Maybe it was because they had been raised on Harry Potter books and the prospect of magic didn't seem so alien to them. "So what do you think about being a girl?" Judy asked Lisa when we were in the car and on our way to Marty's house. Lisa was sitting nex