Memories Revisited Closing Up Shop
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Memories Revisited: Teach Your Children Well free porn video
Memories Revisited: Teach Your Children Well
By Heather St. Claire
It was Saturday, and the city was still waking up. Although the stores
at the Twin Pines Mall were not yet open, their employees, delivery
people, mall walkers and others already had the structure pulsing with
life. Inside one of those stores, a clothing shop for plus-sized and
tall women, the owner was having tea in her break room with a customer
who required special considerations?because he was a man.
Eric Madsen was a cross-dresser. He had discovered, thanks to an
internet chat room, that the store's owner, Gwen Moore, was very
accommodating to CDs; she was glad to allow them private shopping time
before or after the store was open to the public. (Gwen had been a man
herself once, until an encounter with the SRU Wizard, and understood
Eric's longing quite well.)
She had met up with Eric almost two hours earlier, letting him in a
service entrance, and "Erica" had treated herself to a real shopping
spree. "I'm going to be turning 52 soon," Eric told Gwen. "This is my
birthday present to myself."
Eric had tried on more than a dozen outfits and was taking home almost
half of them. Gwen seemed to have a special touch for finding clothing
that could create the illusion that he really was a woman (the clothes,
a body shaper, padding, a wig and a lot of makeup, especially beard
concealer, did the trick). Eric was in heaven while dressed. But now,
back in male garb and sipping tea with Gwen, he seemed depressed.
"It's too bad I'm the only one who ever gets to see you dressed," Gwen
said as she nibbled on a scone. "You really do make a nice looking
woman."
Eric forced a smile. "Thanks, but one, I don't think going out in public
in drag would do much for my teaching career, and two, I think you're
being too kind." Gwen let the subject drop.
Their discussion turned to how things were going at school. Eric smiled.
"I've been a teacher for 30 years. But switching to second grade a few
years ago has really, really, been wonderful." He had spent almost a
quarter-century working at the middle and high school levels, and the
school superintendent had been surprised at the transfer request. "I
want a chance at them before the world's spoiled them," he said at the
time.
There was only one thing bothering Eric, he said; he seemed to be
running out of ideas for craft projects for his classes. That was when
Gwen steered him to Memories Revisited, the scrapbooking store in the
mall.
"Diane is sooo creative," Gwen cooed. "She offers so many projects and
classes, I'm sure she can help you out."
"But isn't a scrapbooking store for women?"
"I suppose most of her customers are women, but I do see a man in there
every now and then...sometimes alone. Besides, it's a chance for some
vicarious girl talk, right?" Eric agreed to pay a visit to the store
before heading home.
Diane McMasters, the owner of Memories Revisited, had also arrived at
the mall early that morning. She had made another stop beforehand, at
the local cemetery, where she repeated what had become a daily ritual.
She laid a single rose on a headstone and said, "I love you, Danielle.
This is all for you sweetie."
Once she was at the store, she turned her attention to the task of
orienting her new employee, 16-year-old Jessica Stone. Jessica had been
born male, but her gender and personal history were changed when her
mother asked Diane to put together a scrapbook telling her life story.
Both mother and son had wished that he had born to the female gender;
this made it easy for Diane's magic to accomplish their wish.
Diane had met Jessica after her transformation, and was immediately
charmed by her vivacity. She offered the girl an afternoon and weekend
job at the store, and she happily accepted. For now, Diane would
concentrate on teaching Jessica the basics of retailing. But who knows
what the future might bring?
The friendship between Diane and Eric blossomed immediately. He soon
became a regular at the store's events. He brought many of the projects
from the store?sun catchers, cornucopias, paper clocks?into his
classroom. Even when he had more than enough ideas to take him through
the year, he continued to return to the shop every chance he had. He
reveled in the kindness, warmth and good humor of the women he
encountered.
One fateful evening, Diane asked Erica to join her after closing for a
cup of coffee.
"Eric, please tell me if I'm just being a nosy female, but there's
something I want to ask you."
He smiled warily and said, "Go ahead and ask. I might not answer, but go
ahead and ask."
"How come a great guy like you has never married? There, I said it! Now
tell me to shut up."
Eric stared off into the distance for a time before answering. "Oh, I
don't know, Diane. I've dated a few women, but nothing's ever clicked."
"Do you have any idea why?"
"I'm not sure, but I can guess. I think it's because I've held something
back." He paused and swallowed hard. "Oh God, I don't know why I'm
telling you this, I usually don't tell people this, but....I really feel
like I should have been born a woman. Like I am a woman, somehow trapped
in this six foot tall, 200 pound male body by some kind of cruel cosmic
joke."
Diane placed a tender hand atop Eric's. "It's okay, dear," she said
softly. "Sometimes it's necessary to tell. It's a release valve. It can
be the beginning of addressing things that need to be addressed."
He was fighting back tears now. "I don't think there's anything I can do
about this. What is, is. I've got to live with it...just like I have all
my life."
She smiled, squeezed his hand, and said, "We'll see."
That evening, Diane wondered how she could get the opportunity to make a
special book for Eric. She couldn't just ask him for a bunch of photos
and personal effects, but she knew this was someone who desperately
needed her help. Before she could think of a solution, the answer
presented itself at the shop a few days later. It was the principal of
the local elementary school.
"One of our teachers is coming up on his 30th anniversary in the
profession," she said. "We're going to hold a surprise party for him.
We'd like to have you put together a scrapbook of his teaching career
for us. We've collected class photos, yearbook photos, newspaper
clippings, and a bunch of testimonials from his former students,
colleagues and parents. We even got a hold of some stuff from his days
at the University." She lifted a large box onto the counter. "Can you
help us out? Do we have the makings of a good book there?"
Diane lifted the box's lid and eagerly examined its contents. "Oh yes,"
she said with a smile. "This will be a great book."
That evening, after the store was closed, Diane extracted her special
papers, embellishments and tools from their hidden compartment in the
back of the store, and went to work.
The first photo to go into the book was of young Erica Madsen on her
student teaching assignment. That was followed by a shot of Erica in her
cap and gown, being hugged by her parents after receiving her diploma.
Then there was a newspaper clipping showing her and half-a dozen other
newly hired elementary teachers at a suburban school. Diane smiled to
herself and thought, oh, that big feathered hair and those shoulder
pads! How 80s can you get? Although Erica had worked in the same
communities Eric had, there was one dramatic difference in this careers:
Erica's had started out at the primary level, as her natural rapport
with younger children had steered her to the right destination from the
beginning.
There were class portraits, candid photos, assembly programs, drawings
and crafts, student cards, letters and more that eventually filled a
very thick scrapbook. Diane finally closed the completed book, knowing
that the transformation of present and past would be complete at that
point. Only one thing was missing from the volume.
Diane was disappointed to see no evidence that Erica Madsen had married.
Oh well, she thought, maybe there are limits to this magic. It still
looked to her as if Erica's life had been much more fulfilling than
Eric's. She couldn't wait until her friend paid her first visit to the
shop in her new form.
It was the very next day when a statuesque woman?she reminded Diane a
lot of Sigourney Weaver?came rushing into the shop. She was bubbling
over with excitement. Diane instantly knew it was the new Erica.
"Diane, oh Diane, you're never going to guess!"
"What?" she said, because she truly had no idea what the transformed
Eric was taking about.
"It's Paul. He's asked me to marry him! Can you believe it? We've only
been dating for a month, but I didn't hesitate to say yes!" As she
finished, she held up a hand with an extended finger to display a
princess-cut diamond engagement ring. She squealed like a happy teen and
threw her arms around Diane, who found that she was suddenly aware of
the details of this relationship.
"So the age difference doesn't bother you any longer?" Erica was 52; she
now knew that Paul was 43. "And you're really ready to take on being a
mother of three kids?" Diane could see the photos Erica had happily
displayed on her phone of Paul's three children, ages 3, 5 and 7; she
also realized she knew their mother had died of leukemia two years
earlier.
"Oh, no," Erica said with a kittenish smile. "He calls me his cougar.
Can you believe it? Me? A cougar?" She laughed with delight. Then,
adopting a more serious tone, she said: "And as for the children, you
know it's what I've always wanted more than anything, something I
thought could never happen." Her eyes were bright with tears.
"Of course this means I'm going to be retiring. I want to spend every
minute that I can with that darling man and his?our?beautiful children."
She wiped away more tears. "I guess miracles do happen, sometimes."
"Yes, they do honey. Yes they do. I am so happy for you. You deserve it
so much," Diane said, offering her friend another hug and wondering anew
about the possibilities presented by the magic she now controlled. She
must have looked distracted, because her friend suddenly spoke with a
raised voice:
"Diane?" Erica asked. "I hope I'm not overdoing it, but there's a lot
I'd like to ask of you over the next few weeks."
"Like what?"
"Well, of course I want you at my bridal shower, and I hope you'll say
yes to being a bridesmaid, and I promise, promise, promise that the
dresses won't be hideous! Gwen has already said yes. Won't you, please?"
Diane nodded in agreement. "And there's one more thing that would mean a
lot to me."
"What's that?"
"They were planning a surprise party for my 30th anniversary in
teaching. Now they've told me about it, and they're changing it to a
retirement party. Will you come?"
Diane squeezed Erica's hand. "I wouldn't miss it."
Two weeks later, Diane found herself in the auditorium of a local
elementary school. She watched as Erica received heartfelt verbal
tributes and presents from colleagues, students and parents, both
present and past. When she opened her career scrapbook, she gave Diane a
knowing look. Her friend nodded back. (And there were just enough funny
stories and gag gifts thrown into the mix to keep the event from getting
too maudlin.) Finally, it was Erica's turn to speak.
"I don't know if I'm going to be able to say very much," she said,
fanning herself with the program that had been put together for the
event, "except to thank each and every one of you. You have all made my
journey in this wonderful profession so remarkable." She paused,
swallowed hard, then reached into the pocket of her cardigan and
withdrew a folded piece of paper.
"There's a song by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, most of you probably
know it, it's called Teach Your Children. I think it sums up what I want
to say to you all in parting: 'Don't you ever ask them why, if they told
you, you would cry, so just look at them and sigh and know they love
you."
Diane rose her feet with the rest of those in attendance. The applause
lasted a long time; the tears flowed freely.
Two weeks later Diane found herself in a small room adjacent to the
church where Erica was to be married. She and Gwen were helping each
other make last-minute adjustments to their outfits. "I love Erica, I
really do, and I am so happy for her," Diane said. "But that woman is a
liar! She swore the bridesmaid dresses wouldn't be hideous....what does
she call this bright shade of red? It's definitely not the 'coral' she
promised."
Gwen shook her head. "You think you've got it bad? How about me? I look
like a giant blood clot!" She chuckled, and Diane couldn't help laughing
as well.
"Come on," Diane said with a smile. "Let's go get this girl married
off."
"Let's do that," Gwen agreed, and they walked into the sanctuary
together.
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