The Sentencing free porn video

The idea for this story came from a short, inspirational email that was shared with me a few years ago. I thought the message behind it, was quite lovely and wanted to somehow turn it into a story to share with everyone. It took almost two years for a story to develop where I could use it in a way to honor the beauty it was written in. If I knew of the original author, I would like to include them...but as with much that is passed around in cyberspace, they are unknown. All I can do is say, thank you for the inspiration...I only hope my 60th story on Fictionmania does justice to your beautiful, and uplifting message. The Sentencing By Anon Allsop The officer jerked me forward and pushed me into a lone chair in the middle of the darkened chamber, above me sat the 6 members that made up the Guardian Court. The center figure leaned forward until only his chin was in the dim light. "Anderson Kemplar, how do you plead?" "What the hell?" I spat, "why am I trussed up here, like some Thanksgiving turkey?" "You are being detained," he replied, showing no dynamic in his voice. "For what?" I shouted, my voice echoing loudly. "Silence!" his voice boomed, sounding much like a clap of thunder. "The time for questioning is over!" "Screw you!" I hissed. "You've got nothing that you can hold me on." "We don't intend to hold you...we intend on rehabilitating you," came the quick response. "You have spent so much of your life crawling upon the back of your fellow man, taking everything and giving back absolutely nothing. Tell me boy, what do you know of faith, trust or love?" The voice came from all around me, yet somehow I knew which of the Guardian's were speaking. I sneered, "Those are for the weak. I have no use for any of them!" Suddenly, another of the judges leaned forward. "And that is why you are here," she scolded. The first judge again leaned into the light, where only his mouth was seen. "You are sentenced to begin life anew. Only, you won't have the privileges or magic as you once possessed. Your life will be much simpler, your struggles will be real, and the time will be of our choosing!" "Like hell I will! You can't make me do anything I don't want to do...we have laws against that!" "True," the fourth judge spoke as he leaned into the light, "and it seems that you have ignored each and every one of them!" "I won't go. You can't make me!" I hissed. Another judge leaned closer to the light; I could only see the outline of his head as she spoke. "Your sentence is to be carried out immediately. Our judgment will be final!" "Some day you may look back on this hour as the beginning of a new life, a transformation of your very soul perhaps..." The voice paused then a shadow leaned forward until I could just see his scowling mouth. "...However, I doubt it!" "Yeah, and screw you!" I shouted loudly, my voice echoing within the empty chamber. The very first judge smiled and leaned into the light, "Since you are so interested in screwing others, and have some strange likeness to throwing the word around, you have helped us find the perfect punishment for you." Another leaned forward, as yet this one had not spoken. "Yes. In that form you will remain until you can show us that you can do all three. Trust, Love and have Faith! Now be gone and leave our sight, accept your fate like a man." *** 1 *** I raised my head and rubbed at my temples, somewhere behind me a radio played ancient music that was from the mid twentieth century. The room was stifling hot, a fan sat on a chair and oscillated back and forth, pushing the air before it in a futile attempt to cool the room. As I was attempting to take all of this in, a hand suddenly shot out and held out two white pills. "Here take these, they should help that headache of yours." In shock, I shifted away from the elderly man, my movement almost causing him to spill the glass of water in his other hand. "It's this damn heat, I swear," he said as he ran a red kerchief across his forehead, wiping the perspiration away. "Spooked you...didn't I?" he finally said with a laugh. "Did you doze off?" "I...I don't think so," I stammered. I could feel my heart racing within my chest. He still stood beside me and held the pills in one hand and the glass in the other. "You going to take these, or am I supposed to be your pill caddy for the duration of my life?" I hesitantly reached out and took the pills from him and tossed them into the back of my mouth. He held the drink higher and moved it closer to my hand, I took it and drank down the cool liquid. He took the glass from me and started walking away. He paused momentarily at a photo on the wall of a young man in a uniform. "Don't need to worry boy, I'll see to her." "Her who?" I asked, slowly falling in behind him. He paused and glanced over his shoulder, "Her? Her...you! This damnable heat must be cookin' your brain!" I quickly looked down, "Oh shit!" I hissed as my eyes took in my feminine form. "They made me a girl!" The elderly man laughed, "I guess so...well, at least enough of one to have kept my Blaine, interested in you!" He rounded the corner and out of my view snickering to himself. I could just make out my reflection in the glass of the picture, "Damn, they made me into a freaking girl!" I groused softly to myself. I leaned against the archway that separated the two rooms, my head resting upon my forearm, light brown hair spilling down into view. I glanced back behind me quickly, through another archway I could just make out a sink. I stumbled into the bathroom and pressed the little button at the bottom of the light mounted on the wall. "Where the hell did they put me?" I wondered aloud as I closed the door behind me, a full-length mirror with beveled glass was mounted to the back of the thick door. I was stunned by the reflection I cast back in the mirror, I appeared to be no older than perhaps twenty-three. This girl they had trapped me into was attractive with large blue eyes and full deep red lips. My eyes traveled down, she wasn't huge in the bust area but some would classify her as pleasantly endowed. She had a tapered waist with a very well put together figure. Her arms were slender with deep red polish adorning her oval fingernails. Her hair was set in a practical style, though something you might have seen during the 1940's. My eyes were drawn toward my ears, where large blue earrings weighted down each of this reflection's lovely lobes. The hot breeze shifted the flimsy curtain behind me and I could see that the window was open. I moved closer to it, momentarily forgetting my inspection. Looking through the rusty screen was like watching an ancient black and white film right out of the late 30's or early 40's...only for me, it was in color. Not far away, beside a barn stood an antique Farmall tractor, behind it was hooked up a strange looking apparatus that resembled a great fork with curved tines. In a lot beyond it was parked a large car. Great round headlights sat upon each fender. An old white Shepard dog lazily licked the water that was held suspended from the well pump's spigot. "Bear...No!" I heard a young voice sharply say. I craned my neck until I could almost make out the voice's owner through the rusty screen. Slowly a young boy approached the dog, and with all the strength he could muster, pulled him away from the spigot by his collar. The youth could have been no older than four or five. "Grandpa says you gotta get your drinks from the creek, just like all the other livestock. Come on, I'll walk you down there." He and the dog crossed more into my view and headed down the dusty lane toward a very dry and sun scorched pasture. The boy looked much like the image of the man in the picture, yet there were subtle differences that I couldn't place my finger upon. I had no choice to assume that the man I had met earlier was his grandfather, but the differences in the boy's appearance became clearer as I turned to face the mirror. I could see traces of me as well in the boy's features, "I must be related..." I surmised as I began reaching for the door. As my left hand fell onto the porcelain knob, I noticed the golden band adorning my ring finger. "Oh damn..." I sighed, "I must be the little boy's mother." It was bad enough to know that the Guardians had transformed me into a woman and dropped me somewhere during the late 1930's or 1940's, but for them to saddle me with marriage and a child was almost too much. I fell against the tiny sink, which was attached at the back, but the front rested upon long steel legs. Turning back toward the vanity I let the water trickle in my hands and splashed some against my flushed cheeks. My knees felt close to buckling. To prevent falling, I pushed the lid down on the stool and sat until I could gather my bearings. After several long seconds, I heard a soft knock against the bathroom door. "Do you know where Ben is? I asked him to do a chore for me and when I went to check on him...he was gone." My mind worked feverously, "He took...the dog...down to the creek for a drink of water." I only hoped that was the boy's name, and it was a gamble. "All right...if you see him back up here, just tell the boy I'm looking for him." I heard him shuffle off and not long after, I heard the screen bang closed. My immediate situation swallowed me whole, as I just realized the voice I had been using wasn't even my own. "Oh...God!" I gasped; the soft feminine voice coming to my ears was much too breathy. What made the ordeal I found myself in almost unimaginable was that unless I really thought about it, the voice came as natural from me as my own breath. "How could I have not noticed?" I wondered, panic filtering in, making breathing even more difficult in the heat. I wiped my perspiration from my face, fingers trembling along my upper lip. I began to concentrate harder, where other strangeness' inserted itself. I felt myself growing lightheaded, for the first time I realized that my penis was no longer there, replaced by the female equivalent. "Dear God..." I cried as I hesitantly pushed my hand along the front of my lap. "It's gone!" My mind whirled as I could feel the breasts I now had, pressing into the soft cups of a bra. I no longer could help the tears as they burst forth from my eyes. "I've been doomed...." I fell forward, and bawled into the hand towel. After several minutes of desperate crying, I pushed myself up and leaned on the sink. Once again I splashed water onto my face, the small droplets clung to my long eyelashes as I returned my gaze into the mirror. Once again the crying jag begun, I staggered against the door and held myself from falling. "Get hold of yourself man..." I whispered softly, which only caused me to start up crying again as I realized how much I was the opposite of my comment. I sobbed until I was able to steel myself, resigning my fate to what was due me. They had made me in the image of a woman; of course I'd have the intimate parts of one! I raised my head, straightened my shoulders and...cried once again as I saw how pronounced my breasts seemed to be reflecting back in the mirror. Finally able to fight against the sobbing of the woman's body I was captive to, I straightened up once again and clenched my jaw defiantly. "I'll not give in to this...those bastards can't win!" I glanced toward the window; outside I could hear the old man talking to the child...my anger softened. It sounded so vulgar for the words to escape my lips. "If I've got to try to portray this...this woman... I've got to try my best to get back my body as soon as I can...and to do that, I have to play along." I sighed, finally understanding that, like it or not, I would have to live like this woman. Only my hope, was that it wouldn't be for too long of a duration. I stood and dried my face, re-hung the towel and opened the door. With the house momentarily empty, I quickly examined the lower floor. There were two bedrooms downstairs; one I assumed was the uniformed man in the photo and mine...the other must belong to the elderly man. On a desk near the end of his bed was an 8x10 photo of a woman, I assumed that this was, or had been his wife. She and the man in the uniform had a very similar smile, yet the older man and the image in the uniform could be none other than father and son. With the woman in the portrait being...my mother-in law. In the other rooms that I found downstairs was the living room with a huge ornate Zenith radio possessing a great face and dial, beneath the large circular dial were two smaller knobs. I peered through a shade in the living room, lowered to prevent the hot afternoon sun from warming the interior of the house yet high enough to allow air from outside, to seep into the open window. What I saw appeared to be a working farm. Cows lowed behind a white painted fence that ran parallel to the driveway. From another open window out of the direct sunlight I could see beyond, a gravel road, withered corn not much taller than I, as yet to tassel. It didn't take much of a brain to figure that I was dropped into the life of a farm wife...smack into the middle of a dry spell. "But when?" I whispered as I folded my arms and turned toward the kitchen, once again pausing at the image of the man in uniform. As I stood quietly pulling a drifting lock of my light brown hair aside and tucking it once again behind my ear, I heard a noise just outside the kitchen door. I strolled on through the kitchen and mildly took in what I saw as I passed. A long table with great elephant feet stood in the center, several wooden chairs lined the sides with one on each end. Not far away stood an old rounded refrigerator, the silver Kelvinator logo sparkled on its face. Huge counters spanned along each side of a white sink, the backsplash made of the same material, almost as if it were created from the same mold. A window was directly above the sink; just outside I could make out the sparkling roof of an old box style sedan. At the end of the counter stood a white stove, it's black burners suggesting years of use. Once again I heard a strange tinkling outside, I turned my head back to the kitchen door. As I began heading toward the doorway, I spied a calendar on the wall, "August, 1944...okay, that would explain the era and the heat." Above the calendar was a little blue speckled clock in the shape of a teapot, "11:35...in the morning." I pushed the door open slightly; the heat blasted my face as it entered the sun. Just off the porch a grey tabby cat lay in the shady grass beneath a huge flowerpot, overflowing with gigantic marigold flowers. The tinkling I heard was of a tiny group of tubes, suspended upon silvery strings. They danced in the overly warm summer breeze, each tube was of a different length and as they bumped against each other a strange and wonderful music emitted. I felt myself smile as I returned back inside the much cooler house. Just inside of the kitchen, behind the outside door, was hidden another door. Thinking it might be nothing more than a pantry...I opened it. A step down led to a landing; from there I could see a stairway leading to a basement. Dusty boots lined the edge of the landing, obviously not needed due to the lack of rain. Nothing seemed of importance to me down there so I slowly pulled the door closed and returned to the kitchen. I folded my arms and looked onto my new domain, the Guardian's had thrown me here to learn a lesson. My fate was to be a female in a household of males. I looked down, my folded arms just below my breasts. The simply feminine way I was standing created in me such an uneasy feeling that I quickly dropped my arms to my side and placed my hands on my hips. That position didn't last long either as it only emphasized how wide my jutting hips had become, obviously molded that way by, and for childbearing. I frowned and continued out of the kitchen and back through the little hallway, turning right, I found myself once again facing the bathroom. To my immediate right a door was ajar; through the opening I could see a stairs leading up to the second floor. I slowly pushed the door open and climbed the steps upward. Once at the top of the stairs, a tall banister wound around the stairs, directly in front was another open window. Warm summer breezes filtered through the screen. A lazy fly drunkenly walked upon the windowsill. The area was large and open; a second door was visible at the end of the room. I walked down the side of the room, the banister upon my left. A single bed was placed behind the banister, the light covers in disarray. A strange wave of tidiness washed over me ad I found myself straightening the single, thin cover. Once done, I slowly turned and headed toward the open doorway. The room beyond was painted a pale yellow, a small dresser stood near another open window directly opposite the one in the other room. A white crib stood off to one side, its mobile swayed in the hot breeze that wafted through the window. Neatly folded cloth diapers were stacked on a shelf; pins filled a glass jar on a table. It was obvious that this was a nursery. I moved closer to the crib, it was empty; a little quilt was folded neatly in place. I ran my fingers along the rail, reaching out; I touched the mobile sending it swinging from my caress. "Where was the child that had occupied the crib? Could it have belonged to the boy and he just outgrew it?" I wondered. I moved to the dresser and opened a drawer; tiny socks of various colors were paired and folded. Several had crocheted lace sewn to the edging, not something that you would think of a boy wearing. Behind me a board on the wood flooring squeaked. "I'm surprised to see you up here...It's been a long time." My heart jumped, I let out a shriek and wheeled around, startled beyond measure. Thoroughly shocked to my core, I stood panting and clutching my chest, still holding the lacy sock in my hand. "I..I'm..." I stammered, trying to rein back my frightened and overtly feminine response to being startled. The old man moved further into the room, "It's good to see you in here, it means you've finally accepted...it." "It?" I asked as I returned the little sock to the drawer where I found it. "Ashley...the baby's death." He inhaled deeply and caressed the end of the crib. "It's never easy, hell, Agnes and I lost two before we had Blaine." My mind grew silent, how sad for this woman that I've become to be dealt such a rough hand. From what I could glean from the little time I've been here, she had a son, lost a daughter and I wasn't exactly sure about her husband's whereabouts, other than he was somewhere in the military. Mulling her plight pushed tears into my eyes, the room blurred as I looked through them. "Hey...hey, now Nicole...it'll be okay," he comforted as he embraced me, "You're young, and times will be better." I nodded, unsure on how I should respond as he stroked my long hair in a fatherly fashion, and spoke softly, his voice full of emotion. "Tell you what, I'll go downstairs and start on lunch...you collect yourself and come down when you're ready." A sob broke free from my throat; I quickly covered my mouth with my hand. "Where did that come from?" I wondered, my mind continued to race. "Is this woman's life starting to invade my own? Why would I care that she lost her second child somehow?" The old man gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then left me alone. As he was walking away, he pulled his kerchief from his back pocked and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Was this the type of love the Guardians spoke of?" I wondered, "Would I ever be able to feel it, without it being forced upon me?" As he disappeared from view, a great wave of pent up emotion washed over me. I found myself crying uncontrollably, which left me sinking down into a heap on the floor. "What's the matter with me?" My perplexed mind wondered. "It was as if everything this woman was feeling, suddenly rose to the surface in me." After several minutes, the seemingly endless tears began to subside and I was able to finally stand. Finding a lace kerchief in my dress pocket, I dried my face and began to walk back toward the stairs. I left that room, but it seemed as though I had left something behind; something that I felt I would never really understand. Slowly I climbed down, each step returning me into a reality that was as alien as the face of the moon. The closer to the bottom I neared, the better I could hear the conversation in the kitchen. "She's still real tore up about losing Ashley...best advice I could give you is not to badger her with questions." "Okay, Grandpa." A moment of silence later, then the little boy asked another question, "Is Ashley in heaven?" "Sure she is..." the older man responded. "Why did she die? I was sick too, but nothing happened to me!" I heard a heavy sigh, "That's the strange way about death, sometimes it'll get you...sometimes not." His grandpa paused for several seconds, then his voice tightened slightly with emotion. "Ben, take yourself as an example, the polio you had contracted, hardly affected you other than making you sick. When Ashley got it...I guess since she was so young, her body couldn't handle the virus and...and uh...the angels came and took her away to heaven." "Oh," came the soft reply. I swallowed hard, hearing their conversation endeared my heart to this small family. Choking back tears, I turned and headed into what I assumed was my bedroom to hide and cry, as I was about to cross the room's threshold, I heard him ask another innocent question. "Is Daddy with Ashley in heaven?" "No Ben...he's in Germany, fighting along with our other soldiers. But that means we have to pray harder for him...it isn't easy being so far away from those you love." "Will we see Daddy again?" "God willing..." I felt my throat tighten; again tears begin to well in my eyes. I quickly entered and closed the door gently behind me, crossed the room and sat at the vanity and bawled until the tears left my system. This poor family had been through so much, why couldn't life just leave them alone and let them be? When I felt I could cry no more I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes were red and swollen. I removed he smeared makeup with cold cream knowing I had to go into the kitchen sooner or later and I've never been one to hide, I reached out and picked up a tube of mascara, hesitantly I reapplied the makeup to my eyes. I realized that what I had done, probably wasn't as good as the original host of this body had been able to do, I was pleased enough in its outcome. I sought out and found the tube of lipstick that I...she must have used this morning and lightly reapplied the sticky substance to my lips. My only thought as I pressed my lips against a paper to remove the excess color, was that the taste was something I didn't think I could ever become used to. I stood up and rechecked my face in the mirror, finally satisfied that I didn't look so much like a blubbering female, I headed out the door. ** 2 ** As I walked toward the kitchen, my father-in-law was telling the boy, "...and if you help me finish up that chore, I'll take you and your mother down to see a picture show!" "Can we get popcorn? I like popcorn!" "Well, I don't see why not? If we can get it done early enough, I'll even spring for some ice cream too!" "Oh boy!" he squealed as he began stuffing his face with his sandwich. "Small bites, Benny." The words sprang from my lips as I entered the kitchen. I sat opposite my father-in-law and sat down, he raised himself up slightly as I took my seat. "I'd have had him wait if I knew you'd be along so directly." He studied my face; surely he could tell I had been crying even more. "That's okay," I replied softly as I sat down. I folded my hands in my lap and stared at the sandwich he had prepared for me, waiting as if I were supposed to be doing something. "Uh, Benny boy...don't you think we forgot something?" He reached across and pulled the sandwich from the boy's hand and placed it back on the plate. "Oh shoot." He closed his eyes and folded his hands. "God...help me be a better boy. If you don't have the time to do that...it's okay, I'm enjoying myself pretty much as I am." I felt the words suddenly rise into my throat, even before I could stop myself I scolded him. "Benny!" I gasped in shock. "Is that the way we taught you to pray at the supper table?" He laid his sandwich back down and sighed. "God is great. God is good. Let us thank him for our food." In unison, we all said, "Amen." "That's better," I replied, glaring accusingly at his grandfather who was trying his best to keep from laughing. I felt a strange pang of unfamiliarity, mostly because I had never really prayed at a meal before...not to mention, the way the scolding of the child came from my own mouth, as if I had always responded maternally in this way to this boy. Coupled with that, the old man was still smiling at Benny and deep down, I was surprised at the strange motherly way it had played out...including the glare I had given his grandpa. To a casual observer on that scene, I would have assumed, that I truly was the mother and was none too please with how my son's own grandfather encouraged the child's behavior. The whole conversation unnerved me and made me feel ill. To push the alien thoughts from my mind, I hurriedly entered my way into their previous conversation in an attempt of having to ponder upon this odd scenario any longer. "What movie did you want to see? I asked the elderly man sitting opposite me. "Movie...oh, yeah. There's a western with Tex Ritter that I'd like to see...but I know how you feel about Westerns." I fondly remember watching those old pictures on the disks back in my time...but this might be different, I could actually see one when it was new! "Oh...that's okay," I began, actually excited as the boy to see a movie. "What is its name?" "No...No, I won't hear of it. The boy and I dragged you to see the last Tex Ritter picture and I told you then that we'd see whatever you wanted." He looked down at the little boy still packing his sandwich into his mouth. "The last time you said it'd be a comedy and only one is playing...we'll see that one. I can go with the boy next week to see Oklahoma Raiders." "Are comedy's funny? Do I like them?" "Yes Benny, they're funny, and yes you like them. Now slow down and quit packing your food into your mouth like a chipmunk." I patted his tiny hand and pulled the sandwich down, sitting it back onto his plate. I turned toward my father-in-law. "So what is the movie?" "Mowrfff?" Glancing toward my son, "Manners?" He sheepishly looked down and picked up his glass of milk. "It's called the Canterville Ghost. It has Charles Laughton and Robert Young in it and a fairly new actress named Margaret O'Brian." The movie sounded familiar to me, I vaguely remembered reading a story with the same title. "Is that based on a short story by Oscar Wilde?" He looked at me with a blank expression, "I have no idea...but I heard it's pretty funny." He reached across and jostled the boy's hair, "I got me two dollars this morning and it's burning a hole in my pocket!" "Wow...gee two whole dollars?" Ben looked up, wiping the milk mustache from his mouth with his sleeve. He smiled and gave me a quick fatherly wink, "The widow Hargrove paid me to stand her outhouse back up...seems it fell over during the night." "Was it windy last night?" I asked, absentmindedly wondering what it would have been like to be inside when it tipped over. "I think this wind was caused by two brothers down the road..," he said with a laugh. "I'll be talking to their father sometime later this week about it." "Outhouse tipping?" I asked, to which his response was to point toward me and give a nod. It seemed that, within ten minutes of my sitting down at the table, Ben had finished eating and downed the last of his milk. The door soon followed, slamming behind him as he headed outside was the exclamation point to his exit. "Sure Benny boy, you may be excused!" the old man called out after his grandson. I smiled and took another small bite of my sandwich. "He gets that from his father, you know." I smiled as there was a shadow falling across the tabletop; the boy was back at the door. "May I be excused from the table?" "Yes you may Benny," I replied, "But next time, it would be better to ask before you actually leave!" "Sorry, Mom." He leaned toward the screen and cupped his hands around his eyes so he could see inside. "You coming Grandpa? We still got that chore to do!" The old man placed his napkin on the table, "Nicole, may I be excused?" "Sure, Grandpa," I replied, not really knowing what his name was or if I called him Dad. He gave me a sideways glance and raised an eyebrow, "Now the boy can call me Grandpa...but you don't have to rub it in. I feel old enough as it is, John or Dad will be just fine, thank you!" I laughed aloud and nodded as he headed toward the door, "I guess while you men are taking care of that little chore of yours, I'll see to cleaning up in here." As I cleared the table, I began to fill the sink with warm, soapy water for dish washing. I stood at the sink and began scrubbing at the surface of the dirty dishes while stared out the little window in front of me. I could see John and Ben carrying buckets of water out to several goats that were penned up near the barn. If I was quiet enough, I could hear John complaining about the dog licking the water that dripped from the pump again. I smiled at this rural setting with its seemingly mundane lifestyle. I pushed a dishrag into a cup causing water to be squirted out and toward my dress, backing away rather quickly, I did my best to try and avoid the most of it. Hanging on the wall, not far from where I was standing, was an apron. Without much thought, I quickly tied it on. I smoothed out the front and went back to my own chore, all the while watching my son and father-in-law working together outside. My idle studying of them veiled what was actually going on inside my head though, as thoughts of who I've become drifted slowly into mind. "Who was this woman my body possessed? Where did she go when I came here? How did the Guardian's choose this body? Is she now inhabiting my former self?" Still I wondered, "How do I seem to know what to do, even though I have never done something like this before?" I looked down at myself in the dress and wondered just why I didn't feel like exploring my body, as I would have assumed a man suddenly transformed into a woman would do! It was true; I had absolutely no desire to examine myself, than I might have at getting ready to do some grocery shopping. When I looked at myself, there was no arousal...nothing at all. I knew back when I was in my former body that I had been pushing the envelope, using my powers for personal gain. I think the last straw was when I used my magic to enact revenge on a total stranger. For that...for everything, I was stripped of my abilities and deposited here. I again looked down, my bosom gently pushing the top of my dress out, more than likely, making it the focal point to many wavering eyes. Yet, no arousal in seeing this woman I've become...nothing. It was as though I felt as I was raised this way, feeling nothing different. Normalcy was first and foremost, changing from a man to this woman, was as if changing from a blue blouse to a green. I shook my head, even in mundane thought, I was still thinking like a woman. Why would the word "blouse" come into my mind before something like "shirt"? I sighed at the complexity of this change to my body. Part of me felt slightly cheated, I wanted to feel the turmoil of the transformation. Feeling that erotic surge, of being suddenly dropped into a beautiful feminine body. Yet, I felt nothing more than if I had been born this way. "Why?" I sighed. Then too was my name, not the former name of myself, but rather the name of Nicole. It rolled from my tongue as if it were the only one I had ever had. For the first thirty years of my life, Anderson Kemplar was the only name attached to my being. Now when I think of my former name, it's more like an acquaintance than a name intimately familiar to me. I've found myself answering to Nicole without even a second thought, and then too I've begun thinking of myself as Nicole...on top of constantly referring to myself as female. I sighed while letting down the water, picked up a dry towel and started wiping dry the dishes of their water. It was bad enough to become a woman, but to suddenly find yourself one and not even the wherewithal to partake in intercourse as one. I sighed, Any other family and I might feel the fear of a man taking me and making me into a true woman, but here...he was away, fighting in Germany, and I was left to mother a young son and her elderly father-in- law...and no sexual release even if I wanted one. ** 3 ** Outside I heard them returning, Dad was speaking to Benny. "...I don't want to see you messing around with the water, not until this drought has busted. We don't need to be wasting any because we'll probably need it ourselves before long. If that dog of yours wants any, he's going to have to stop licking the spigot!" He began up the steps and paused, turning back toward the boy, "If I have to, I'll shut the dang thing off and only turn it on when we need it!" I turned toward them as they entered, "You all done?" "Everything's been watered...including the boy." He took his kerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "The boy seems hell-bent on wasting what little water we have in our cistern!" After several seconds of scowling at Benny he sighed and ruffled his grandson's hair, then turned to me. "Are you about done?" "Just finishing the last of the dishes. I'll put them away and we can go whenever you're ready," I said as I picked the last plate out of the sink and began to dry it. "Now Nicole, if you'll excuse me, I'll clean myself up and put on something decent." He pushed one suspender off his shoulder as he was leaving the kitchen. "I think you should be taking his example and getting that dirt washed off...clean clothes would be a real good idea," I replied, making a quick examination of my son. The thought seemed strange to claim this boy as my own, yet, he could be no other and it would seem this was the life I'd been saddled with by the Guardians. "Aw Mom," he grumbled and headed out of the kitchen as if he were on his way to the gallows. I smiled, "Don't you...Aw Mom me little one! I'm still the boss around here with your father away!" As I put the dishes into the cupboard, I couldn't help but reflect on our most recent exchange. It was almost as though I had been in this body forever, in the way I responded to him. It got me to wondering if, when I found the Guardian's blasted faith, love and whatever...would they return me to my old form? "God I hope so!" I said softly. By the time I had readied myself...my gentlemen were already waiting. Ben was wearing lightweight shorts and a nice button down cotton shirt; his recently cut hair was parted to the side. John also had a short sleeve shirt, however he was also wearing long pants and suspenders with no tie. I had a feeling that with John, this was about as dressed up as he got. As for myself, I wore a simple blue summer dress that ended just below the knee, and the blue earrings I was wearing when I first arrived into this body. My feet were perched upon stylish black pumps, while a beautiful wide brimmed hat protected my delicate feminine skin from the sun. "Well, well Nicole!" John said smiling, "It's been quite awhile since I've been seen around the town next to a pretty girl." "Thank you," I replied, "so, do I need my purse for anything?" "I've got it covered. Besides, I thought we agreed it'd be my treat?" He gave a wink to Benny and smiled. "My lady, the chariot awaits." Then he motioned to Benny, "Good sir, can you catch the door?" "Why you talkin' so funny, Grandpa?" "Just grab the door kid," John said with a laugh. As Benny swung the door open, John led me through like I was a regal princess. Down the steps and toward the drive we headed, finally pausing before our "chariot". When I had been a man, one of my favorite pastimes was spent in our local transportation museum, drooling over the antique cars. While I still appreciated them since being transported into this body, the luster that I once held for them had dimmed slightly. My mind told me that this was a late twenty's Studebaker...though the woman in me cared little what it was, her only desire was that it got us from point A to point B. What was left of the old me still admired what I could see, the tan paint still had a shine, the deep black fenders and running boards set off the light color of the car's body. It had four doors, the back two opening in the opposite direction of the front. Somehow the words "suicide doors" popped into my head, but I couldn't actually place why. "Am I driving?" I asked my escort as Benny opened the back door and vaulted inside from the running board. John laughed as he herded me toward the passenger side, "Maybe IF and WHEN I show you how." "It's nothing, I can do it," I replied as he waited for me to seat myself inside. The oldest car had driven was a 2005 Mustang, that particular car had been an automatic...this however should prove to be no problem, especially since my former self was very proficient with shifting manual transmissions as well. "Next time," he said as he closed the door. Absent mindedly, I reached back over my right shoulder and realized that it was still some residue of my former self searching for a life belt device, there were very few cars, equipped with life saving straps during the 1940's. So to cover, awkwardly looked over my right shoulder and spoke to Benny as he was hanging half in, half out of the window. I reminded him that a good passenger would remain seated and not be sticking his hands out the window. "Aw, Mom," he grumbled, pulling his hand inside and sitting down on the huge rear seat. I waited as John walked along the long hood, past the wheel mounted on the fender, then finally made his way to his door. "Just so you know, I CAN drive this car," I said as he scooted behind the large wheel. "You can't even steer the Farmall, what makes you think I'm going to let you drive my car!" he said with a laugh that made me frown back my response. "Besides, you've already told me that you can't shift the gears." "I did?" I asked, not really sure what our previous conversations had been prior to me becoming Nicole. "Of course you did!" He shook his head and pushed the starter button, the big eight cylinder roared to life. As he drove, I sat quietly fuming for being treated like some helpless female...even though I may resemble one; I hated being treated like one. As we rolled through the countryside, I took notice of the withered fields as we passed. The beans and corn seemed to be either dead or dying where they stood, great gaping dried cracks, lined between each row. "Sure is hot..," I said softly, "...and dry!" "That's for sure," he said, leaving the dusty trail behind us as he guided us onto a paved road. Ahead, was a sign pointing toward the town. "I haven't seen it this dry since when Agnes and I moved out here in the early thirties. That was a hellishly dry period too." "Grandpa cussed!" came the young voice from the back seat, I glanced back and nodded, agreeing with the tot. Not really knowing what else to say, I continued with our topic of the weather. "Do you think if it rained, it'd be too late for the crops?" "Six of one, half dozen of the other..," he said with a sigh. "Lord knows we need the moisture." He stared at the creek as we passed over it. The once wide banks had become nothing more than a trickle of water. From the look on his face, I could tell he was in deep thought. "That leaky pump of ours is bleeding the cistern dry of water, I think I'll be turning off the water going to the outside pump until after the drought is broken." "What about our animals?" Benny asked from the backseat. "I can turn it on long enough to do our chores, but it'll be turned off for the rest of the time...that is, until I can fix that leak." I glanced back to watch my son; he nodded innocently, and then continued to stare out the window. We drove on for several quiet miles where nothing was said. I studied my father-in-law as he shifted gears, slowing down, going into a sharp turn. "I can do that..." I mumbled to myself. He heard me and laughed. I gave him a sideways glance and frowned. It was so strange to me as we passed other vehicles leaving the sprawling little town, each one either close to the vintage of the one we were in, some even newer. I saw Plymouth's, Chevrolet's and even a couple of trucks...all between the late twenties and some brand new...up to around 1940 or 1941. There was even one model-T driven by an ancient couple which John beeped at, then roared past, only giving a nod to as we motored on into town. We parked along the street and I opened my door, a passing man tipped his hat at me. The very act, made me feel utterly foolish. He even paused long enough to open my door and offer me his hand, under the circumstances; I was hesitant on what I should do. Eventually, I took it and climbed out, thanked him and waited beside Benny. The man tipped his hat, turned then continued along his way. Without really noticing, I realized that Benny was holding onto my hand while we waited for his grandpa to come join us on the sidewalk. John motioned toward the front of the theater, pausing and opening the door for our entry into their grand lobby. "Two adults and one for the boy. We're seeing The Canterville Ghost." John said, purchasing our tickets. The attendant pushed the tickets through the hole in the bottom of the glass. "Thank you," John said to the fellow behind the glass, as he then directed me toward a second set of theater doors. Together we entered the lobby, as we did, I have to admit that I felt excited to be in a place that during my time I could only have dreamed being in. Bright colorful lights strobed gleefully around each coming attraction. There was a hint of popcorn smell in the air. Straight to the candy counter we headed, Benny drug me along, until he could press his face against the glass. "I want that one...and that one...one of those...and..." "Just how much money do you think I have?" his grandfather joked. "Just one item Benny," I said softly into his ear. "And popcorn?" He asked, pointing to a Milky Way bar, then looking from me to his grandfather. "And popcorn," his grandfather said to the young man behind the counter. I carried the popcorn for Benny as we walked down the sloped aisle to find a seat. It wasn't long after we arrived, the house lights dimmed and the room became bathed in darkness. On the great screen before us, a newsreel of war footage flickered to life. I found that for some strange reason, I couldn't watch, preferring to look away as they began showing a great sea battle on the large screen. "These war reels don't last long..." John whispered over Benny, his eyes showed concern for me. "I'm fine..." I whispered back. I tried to stay, but a strange dread enveloped me, my hands shook and after only five minutes of the newsreel. I quickly stood. "Nicole? You okay?" John glanced up at me quickly. "I need some air...I'll be okay." I stepped into the aisle and made my way back into the lobby. "You leaving, ma'am?" the usher asked as he shined his flashlight toward the door. "Just until the newsreel is over." I pushed aside the door and stood in the lobby, leaning against a wall trying to collect myself. "You too?" an elderly woman asked aloud, her soft voice caused me to look up. I nodded. "My husband is somewhere in Germany. The pain I feel for all of the young men...makes it hard to watch the newsreels." I spoke those words, felt her fear...yet really knew nothing about Nicole's husband. The words just spilled out of this beautiful mouth of mine...hers. "I know what you mean." The woman looked sadly away. "I lost my eldest at Pearl, my youngest, his brother...is somewhere in Africa." "I'm truly sorry for your loss." I felt a pang of pain, my eyes stung with tears. She saw my torment and came and stood beside me. She gave me a motherly hug, "Thank you, it does mean a lot." How could a woman who had lost one of her own, a child that she brought life to, take his death so peacefully? I thought of Benny, even thrust into this life...I knew she would die were she to lose him. "You...you seem to accept your son's death so easily?" She smiled, "It wasn't always that way." She gently comforted me with a caress of my back. "I shrank back into a shell for almost a year. I knew Keith had wanted to be in the Navy more than anything...he knew that there was always a chance for bad things to happen, when you're in the military." She grew quiet for a moment. "He was on the deck of his ship when the attack came." I stood looking eye to eye with the young man's mother, she seemed so strong to me. "I don't think I could have handled what you went through." "...But I did. And you will too." She patted my hand and smiled, "Your young man will come home someday. You'll be doing something and look up...and there he'll be." "I wish I could be as sure as you are," I replied, unbelieving those words came so effortlessly from my lips. As if I actually had been born into the life of the woman I've become...and with such little effort, was seemingly hoping to meet my husband once again. "It's never an easy life as a soldier, but deep down I feel that it'll all work out for you!" She gave my hand a squeeze. "He's missing you as badly as you are him...take solace in that." I found myself nodding in agreement. I was thankful that I had been able to talk to her; she gave me a completely new outlook on my own situation. Because of her, I was able to look at things much differently...if she could summon her inner strength, so could I. Confidently, I stood, raising myself up mentally as she did. Vowing that, if I was to be stuck as this woman...I'd be a strong woman. At the very moment of my personal epiphany, the door swung open and the usher stuck his head out, "Newsreel's over." She placed her arm around my slender shoulder, and gave me a gentle squeeze. "Lets go back inside and try to forget this war for an hour or two." I nodded and even though I smiled, I was wiping tears as we returned to the darkened theater. Trying to forget the war and watch The Canterville Ghost would be like going to the beach and sit facing away from the ocean. You still hear the surf, the seagulls...even though you can't see it; you know that it's there. The entire movie seemed based around the war. True, it was funny and I did really enjoy myself, laughing demurely at all the right moments. Even though I appeared to enjoy the movie, I was actually thankful when Benny needed to use the facilities somewhere during the climax of the movie, and I heartily volunteered to take him. Being in this body was driven home when he stopped me outside the "Men's" restroom door, which almost absentmindedly, I was about to enter. "You can't come in here, Mom. Girls aren't allowed." Embarrassed, I stayed at the entrance doorway and studied several movie posters hanging on the wall as I waited for him to finish up. It was an odd feeling no longer being welcome in a restroom, which I had actively participated in for almost thirty years! Finally, he walked out and took my hand; his touch startled me as I had been intently studying one poster. "All done?" I asked. "Yep." "Did you wash?" I asked, studying his face. His eyes, which had been looking at me, quickly darted away. For some strange reason; call it motherly intuition; I knew that he was fibbing to me. "Back inside and wash!" I scolded, then found my own way into the "Woman's room to wash my own hand after he had held it." It was a very strange experience for me, being in a restroom created only for women. In fact, there was one other young girl in the room reapplying her lipstick. I ignored her as best as I could, washed and dried my hands. As I was leaving, I met Benny coming out of the restroom at the same time. "Can I get a soda?" he asked softly. "I don't have any money," I replied. "If you think you need one so bad, you could ask your Grandpa." He thought for a few seconds, "No thanks." I smiled inwardly; I knew that he was afraid of what his grandfather would tell him. Nothing else was said as we returned to our seats. I sat with my legs crossed, my dress slid up slightly with the movement. The soft glow from the screen illuminated the litheness of my slender thighs. Even the reflection of the polish upon my fingernails, screamed that I was now a female. I nervously adjusted the hem of my dress, pulling it over my knee then found myself checking on Benny. His gaze held fixed upon the screen, totally immersed in the picture, the soft glow illuminating his face. Again my mind returned to the sentence of the Guardians. Did the woman whose body I am in, find herself locked inside of my form? Is she also wrestling with the formatting of my life? Would I ever realize what they meant about Faith, Love and Trust? Suddenly, a very loud explosion brought me back to the movie. On the screen, Robert Young was facing The Canterville Ghost. The movie was about to end and I couldn't really recall paying much attention to it. As it thankfully came to a close and the credits began rolling, we stood up. "We going back home?" Benny asked. "How about that ice cream?" John asked, the question was asked of Benny, but he was looking directly toward me. "My treat." "ICE CREAM!!" Benny squealed. I nodded, "Something cold before we return home would be nice." "There's a little place just down the street we can go to," he said as he ushered me on up the aisle and through the doors, out into the lobby. As we stepped outside, the sun was lower in the sky...but it was still quite hot. We walked down the street and turned inside of a pharmacy. At the end of the room lined a row of tall chairs before a long table that faced a window. "Mount up boy," John said as he hoisted Benny to the tall seat. "What will it be?" "Chocolate cone!" he said in a singsong voice. He spoke to the youth behind the counter, A Chocolate for the boy..." He looked at me. "I'm fine," I said. "The lady will have a Vanilla cone with sprinkles." He smiled at me, "Thought I'd have forgotten, didn't you?" "Can I have sprinkles?" Benny asked his grandpa. "Both with sprinkles...and I'll have a plain bowl of Vanilla." He pulled out his wallet and placed two dollars on the counter. I went ahead and took a seat next to my son while Dad picked up his change from the counter and brought Benny and I our cones. He returned and carried his back to the table by the window, placing his on the other side of his grandson. The cone was very good...and extremely cold. Almost as soon as I began eating it, my arms were washed with goose bumps. But that paled in comparison with the strange stiffness of my nipples, secured in place behind my brazier. They felt as though they were growing, erecting themselves into tiny little towers upon my chest. I carefully placed my arm against my bust, trying to warm both as I hurriedly finished my cone. It was a strange, and totally unexpected experience, and one that I did not welcome! I ate what I could, what I couldn't...Benny ate. Thankfully, we returned to the warmth of the car and Benny and I climbed inside. "Goose-bumps?" John laughed climbing inside, watching me try to warm my arms as he closed his door. "Figures, only a woman could have gooseflesh on one of the hottest days of the year!" "It was cold," I whined pathetically. "That's probably where it got the "ICE" part of ice cream!" he said with a laugh as he pushed in the starter button. We exited the town and turned back onto our little dirt road. After a few minutes, we rolled to a stop and he shut off the car. "What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly becoming aware that we had stopped. "So you think you can drive my Studebaker?" He smiled. "It's time to find out what you're made of." "Okay...okay then." I nodded. "I'll show you that I know what I'm doing." He stepped out and closed the driver's door, leaning into the window he smiled. "Scoot across...it's pretty hard to drive from the passenger side." "I know that!" I grumbled and gently slid across the seat as he laughed, coming back around to the passenger side." As he was closing his door, Benny realized that I was seated behind the wheel. "Grandpa, is mommy going to crash us?" I squinted over my shoulder angrily at him and he scooted to the back of the seat. All of this only made John laugh harder. "Okay, since you know what to do...how about you showing me?" I pressed the starter only to have the car lurch forward. "Forgot something?" he said with a smirk. "This pedal..." I pressed the clutch down but was unable to go all the way to the floor since I seemed to have lost several inches during the transformation. I scooted forward and pushed it to the floor, then pressed the starter. The engine cranked over, then roared to life. Coupled with being shorter, my leg no longer had the strength in it to hold the clutch in for any great length of time. I began to tremble, a strange fearfulness washed over me. Doubt percolated toward the surface...was I sure I could drive? How much did I actually remember of my old life had been replaced. How much of Nicole's had taken over? Inwardly, I wanted to scream! "How could I have forgotten how to drive? I couldn't seem to remember to work both my feet in unison to make a simple car like this go...was it impossible to absorb so much of the real Nicole that it outweighed my male mind?" My thoughts raced as much as the engine did. "Back off the gas some, let out the clutch...no, NO...The left pedal!" John directed, pointing to my feet. "I'm trying!" I snapped back in confusion, but still the engine raced. "Well then, do it..." He suggested smugly. More so for my transformed mind I asked him once again, "I...I let this out and press this thing at the same time." Even though I thought I knew...I still came across sounding like a naive schoolgirl, during her first driving lesson. "That thing is called the gas pedal..let it up some! You're racing the engine too much." He pointed to the far right pedal again. During the melee, a soft voice came from the back seat, "Are we going to die, Grandpa?" The engine began to race as the car jerked forward, I thought I knew what I was doing, but something had been lost since the transformation of me to Nicole! I no longer could recall how to shift, let alone hold the heavy car on the road with my much weaker muscles. We began sputtering down the gravel road, the car swaying from side to side. "You got to shift into second!" he barked, "push in the clutch!" I pressed in the clutch, which brought the car to a sliding stop, killing the engine during the process. He covered his face with his hands, sat and laughed for a few seconds, "Not as easy as you thought...is it? By the way Nicole, that was the break you pushed," he said amid his breaks of snickering and outright laughter. I threw open my door and stormed around the car, standing outside of the passenger window, in near tears I stammered. "M...move back over...you're driving!" "Nope. You said you could drive...get yourself back over there and drive us home!" He folded his arms on the window body and smiled. "Got to learn sooner or later! If this was a horse and it just threw you, I'd tell you to get back on. So...mount up!" I was fuming as I stomped my way back around the car, climbing once again behind the steering wheel. He laughed hard for almost a full minute before he pulled the gearshift back into neutral. Normally, it would have taken him about ten minutes to get home...it took me a half hour. I killed the car so many times I was afraid of ruining it. The big Studebaker was so heavy; it took about all I had to keep it on the road. By the time we pulled in to the drive, I felt as though I was doing well enough to be considered dangerous. With a prayer of thanks and a sigh of relief, I shut off the engine and rested my head against the huge steering wheel. Tears welled into my eyes. "Well, that was an adventure!" He laughed and popped open his door. "Come on Benny ol boy, we'll hurry up and change, then we can do our evening chores." I sat quietly inside the car drying my eyes as they walked toward the house, after a few steps, John turned around, "You coming?" I said nothing, slowly the door swung out and I stepped onto the running board and into the driveway. My knees felt weak, my hands were still shaking as I closed the door and began my trek into the house. At the front door I was met by one of the friendlier cats on the farm. "I'm not so sure I'll be ready to do that again all too soon!" I sighed as I bent down to scratch the little tabby's ear, and then stepped into the house to begin working on supper. I couldn't believe what I was feeling! I'd driven a stick shift hundreds of times, not once did I ever encounter the trouble I had during that one short drive. My stomach was in knots, my heart was still pounding and my hands were clammy. My residual memories should have seen me through the task without any effort at all! I pulled down a glass and removed the iced tea from the refrigerator, carefully pouring it half full and trying to avoid spilling it onto the counter because of my trembling hands. After several minutes, my nerves calmed and I no longer felt as though I would cry. I heard the screen door open and looked back over my shoulder, it was my father-in-law. "You okay?" he asked as he slowly stepped around the table. I could only nod my response. "Everybody has a rough go at it the first time around." I turned to him, the words hung in my throat. I wanted to tell him that my mind was in such a great turmoil...that I HAD driven a manual transmission many times...and not once did I have the problems I had today. But I shook it off and sighed, "I drove horribly..." "You should've seen the Missus...now that was a sight!" He laughed and stole my cup of tea, taking a sip then handing it back. "She only had two forward gears...with no clutch...you had three in the deal INCLUDING the clutch!" He began jerking his body back and forth as he imitated his ride with his late wife. His carrying on did make me laugh. I gave him a hug, "Thanks Dad..." He shrugged, "So...when you're ready again, you'll come see me?" I shrugged, "I'm not sure I'll ever be ready." "Sure you will." He chided me with a wave of his hand. "Maybe when Blaine gets back, he can trade in the Plymouth for one of those automatic transmissions. You'll learn, when it's not so complicated." He glanced out the window toward the barn. "Well...I guess I'd better be checking up on the boy, he and that dog of his are supposed to be moving the cows toward the back pasture." He started for the door and paused. "You sure you'll be okay?" "I'm sure...thanks." He gave me a quick wink and headed outside. I laughed to myself as I pulled my apron down and began to work on a quick supper. I prepared our meal, which would consist of strawberries I had frozen back in the spring, and a cake I prepared early this morning while it was still cool. Just right for a hot day like today! When the guys came in to eat, nothing more was said about my driving. I had a suspicion that Dad had said something to Benny because several times they would exchange glances. We ate the strawberry shortcake quietly and washed it down with iced tea. We had finished early and by 6:00 pm, both Dad and Benny had already retreated to the living room. I busied myself with the dishes and went to join them as soon as I had finished. ** 4 ** Our evening ended simply enough, I would imagine it wound down much like hundreds of thousands of other families across America. We settled down in the living room, with John in the big chair, me in the rocker. Benny stretched out on the floor, elbows bent, his head propped in his hands. Dad tuned the big Zenith radio on to a serial program and we enjoyed two hours of laughter and suspense, depending which of the four programs we were listening to at the time. At 8:00 I herded Benny into the bathroom for a bath, due to the drought, I only let him fill the tub with three inches of water. Three inches of water wasn't much, as far as bathwater was concerned, but at least he would be clean without much drain from our depleted cistern. As he bathed, I returned to the living room and divided my attention to him and a music program. I found myself stitching up a pocket where John had accidentally caught it on the gate latch. It was rather strange to never have picked up a needle and thread before, yet somehow know what to do and how to do it without really thinking. I wondered how much of this woman's life I would absorb, before I would be able to return to my old life? After several minutes I sat aside my sewing and returned to the bath so I could get Benny off to bed. Making sure he washed behind his ears, I examined him and gave his cleanliness my "motherly" stamp of approval. Gathering his towel up in my hands, I turned my head, held it for him and waited until he stepped out onto the rug, "Dry off and get ready for bed." "Can I listen to some more...?" he began. I cut him off, calmly reminding him, "All I want you to be doing is shuffling off to bed. Little boys need to get plenty of sleep!" He grew quiet, "Mom." "Yes Benny," I said as I dried his hair with another towel. "Do you think Daddy still remembers me?" His question came right out of the blue, I straightened myself up in surprise. "Of course he does!" I gently took hold of his chin, making him look up at me, "Your father loves you very much, he would never forget you! Why would you be asking a question like that?" He looked away; he appeared almost ashamed to say. "It's been so long since I saw Daddy...I...I can't even remember what he looked like." I scooped him up and walked into my bedroom, there on the dresser was a picture of Blaine in his uniform. It was good, but not my favorite one of his...at least the memory I was absorbing seemed to think. "You can have this photo of Daddy until he comes home. Put it beside your bed, always know that he loves you and will come home someday soon." Benny reached out and gently pulled the picture closer, "Is that what you do, Mommy?" "I...I have my memories," I replied, knowing that with each moment I was in this body, it became more and more true. "Besides, I have the photo on my nightstand to see at night." He looked toward the nightstand at it, I sat him down on the bed so he could see his father's other picture closer "I like that one better, Daddy's smiling in it." "You don't like the one I gave you?" I asked, sitting down with him on the bed. "I like it...he's in his Uni..uni..." he said thoughtfully. "Uniform," I replied softly. "Yeah. But, he's smiling in your picture," Benny said as he touched his father's mouth on the photo. "Tell you what, you take the soldier picture of Daddy...and I'll get you a copy made of my picture. That way, both of us will have one of Daddy smiling." I gave him a hug, "How's that?" "What about Grandpa?" He asked. "We'll get one for Grandpa too!" I said with a smile. "Okay. Can we surprise him?" he asked, "His birthday is com