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SRU: Time & Place By Ingrid Halb 16 Feb 2007, Tarzana, CA Trevor Brinson was upset at the musical proficiency of his friends Jeffrey and David. Together, the three of them formed a garage band of sorts and, as far as Trevor was concerned, his band was not playing up to the potential he saw in himself. In his estimation, they were probably holding him back. "You guys suck!" he said, angrily letting his annoyance show. "Lighten up, dog," Jeffrey Parker, the bass player said. "I thought we rocked that one." "Yeah, Trev," David Weiderman said, adding several drum riffs to his short comment. Trevor scowled as David's extemporaneous drum solo temporarily stopped further conversation. The three high school juniors had been in the middle of an after school practice in David's parents' garage when Trevor's outburst sucked the enthusiasm out of the room. "Damn it! We have to take this seriously!" Trevor shouted loudly. The lanky teenager wiped his brow against the short sleeve of his t- shirt, his black sweat soaked hair clung at odd angles to his forehead. It was warmer than usual that day, and even with the garage door open, the boys had worked up a sweat with their playing. Trevor pulled his guitar roughly from around his shoulders, bumping the microphone in the process. Feedback hummed briefly before he unplugged his guitar with a small pop. Jeffrey and David looked at each other and shrugged. This was typical behavior for Trevor and they knew it was best to let him rant and rave, and then sulk for a while. Trevor was grossly unfair in his evaluation of the band. They were actually good. The boys had some talent, but differed greatly in their motivations, which only fuelled Trevor's temper and occasional outbursts. Jeffrey was a good-looking boy with longish sandy colored hair and green eyes. He saw the guitar as a means to impress girls and had a good measure of success doing so. David was a chubby kid with curly black hair who did not socialize well. He saw music as a way to have friends. Trevor was the driven one. You could see it in his dark flashing eyes and clenched jaw line. The others were wistful dreamers about musical stardom, but Trevor lived and breathed it. The fact that fame had eluded him all of his sixteen and a half years left him choking with frustration. "I don't need this bullshit. I'm out of here!" he said, angrily slamming the latches on his guitar case closed as he put his guitar away and stormed out of the garage. "Are we playing tomorrow?" David called, but Trevor did not answer. "You want to play some more now?" David asked Jeffrey, as he tapped out a backbeat on his snare. Jeffrey shrugged. "Sure," he said and began slapping out a boogie baseline. Trevor was still fuming hours later as he sulked through the local mall. He had the vague notion of finding the music store and buying some new strings. It would give him the opportunity to drool over and maybe handle some of the more high-end guitars and amps. It was sad really. Equipment was just one more thing he felt was holding him back. He was not really paying attention to where he was going and so it was not surprising that he found himself in a dead end corner of the mall by one of the side doors. There, in a corner suite, seemingly all by itself was a small shop that he had never seen before - "Spells 'R Us." Trevor's first impulse was to turn around, but the store was so odd looking and obviously out of place that he had to check it out. The tinkle of bells announced his entry into the store. From the back room came a little old man wearing what looked like a bathrobe. "Well, Trevor Brinson. I was beginning to wonder when you'd drop by," the old man said. Trevor started to ask how the old man knew his name, but rationalized that they must have met before. He wracked his brain trying to remember where. "Hey, you..." he said, looking around with a growing sense of confusion. "Nice... store." The old man stifled a smirk. This was almost too easy. "Thanks, I got to admit it, Trevor," the old man said. "Your band shows a lot of promise. They complement your style nicely." "Thanks... you," Trevor said, still confused but bristling slightly at the old man mentioning the band. It reminded him of the tantrum he had thrown in the garage but instead of embarrassing him, it rekindled his temper. "Jeffrey and David aren't holding you back," the old man said shaking his head with a chuckle. "If anything, they're keeping you going. Nobody else would have put up with that hissy fit you threw earlier." "How did you know about that?" Trevor asked. "Because I'm a wizard," the old man said nonchalantly, "and I've got just the thing to help you get to the top of the music charts." Trevor looked skeptically at the old man. His claim to have the key to musical success was bad enough, but the claim to being a wizard was just crazy. He was probably some kind of lunatic stalker; either that or this was an elaborate scam. "This is no scam. And I'm not any kind of stalker," the old man said with another chuckle. Trevor stood there, his mouth agape. Something about the old man seemed credible. The way he seemed to know things and the confident tone as he talked made Trevor start to consider the old man's preposterous claim. Could he really be a wizard? Could he make him a star? "Okay, what's in it for you? What's this going to cost me?" Trevor asked with preemptive aggression. "Nothing initially," the old man said smiling. "In the long run, let's say five percent of gross future earnings." Trevor thought about it. What did he have to lose? "Three percent of net earnings," he said. "And only if this works." "You drive a hard bargain," the old man said, his smile broadening, "but you have an agreement. Wait here, I'll be right back." With that the old man disappeared into the back room. He emerged still smiling and carrying a small object. "Here you go, Trevor," the wizard said. "Just slip this on and I'll explain how to get started." Trevor looked at the object. It was a ring, a plain silver ring composed of two bands welded together. The bands ran parallel except at the front where they crossed and fused forming an X pattern. Right at the center of the intersection was a tiny black stone that reflected no light. "You got me a ring?" he asked. "Put it on," the wizard urged. Trevor did so warily, keeping his eye on the old man. "Now, what you have on is a Time & Place ring," the wizard said almost proudly. "Just tell it what you want and it puts you in a time and place where you get it." Trevor was beginning to think that it was the old man having him on. A magic ring? Come on. "This is going to make me rich and famous?" Trevor asked with obvious disbelief. "That or anything else you ask it," the wizard replied calmly. "Just remember to keep it short or make it quick. The ring starts working right away and you'll get cut off if you make it too long." "Look, old man," Trevor said, reaching to take the ring off. "The only time and place I want to be is where I can best appreciate my music and keep away from you!" Trevor promptly disappeared from the store. The wizard chuckled again and went back to cataloging a recent shipment of potions. As far as he was concerned, this never got old. 8 Sept 2007, Tarzana, CA Trevor was surprised to find himself suddenly back in David's garage once again holding his guitar. David and Jeffrey were also there with him. They had apparently just finished a song. "Whoo! Awesome!" David yelled. "That's what I'm talking about!" Jeffrey yelled. "Aw, man. I need a break. Toss me another beer." "Me too!" David chimed in. Trevor looked down to see a cooler near his feet and upon opening it saw it held at least a half dozen cans. He tossed a couple to his band mates and took one for himself. Jeffrey collapsed onto the old couch David's parents kept in the garage while David stayed behind his drum set. Trevor put his guitar down, then closed the lid on the cooler before sitting on it to contemplate the unexpected familiar surroundings. "Awesome!" David said again. "Man, this is the life. I can't believe school starts again next week." "Ugh! Don't mention school," Jeffrey said. Trevor was not following the conversation. Why would school not start next week? They were in the middle of the winter semester. This conversation felt odd. The room seemed off too. Little things were different. Like where had this cooler come from? It took him a moment to realize another oddity. The clothes he and his friends had on were very familiar, but were not the clothes they had been wearing earlier. "You know, it doesn't get any better than this," David said after a loud belch. "Amen to that," Jeffrey said with a belch of his own. "This may be the last summer we got to just goof around." "Yeah, we'll be leaving for college this time next year," David said, nodding his head solemnly. Trevor was starting to feel that something was definitely wrong here and he had a crazy thought that he knew what that was. Time. Or rather Time & Place. He tried to make it look natural as he reached for his cell phone. The guys would rag on him mercilessly if they thought he was checking for time travel. The date on the phone hit him like a physical blow. He nearly dropped the phone in his shock. "You okay, Trev?" David asked. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," He said, finishing his beer in one gulp. "Listen, I got to go. I'll see you guys Saturday." "Dude, today is Saturday," Jeffrey said with a puzzled look on his face. "You sure you're okay? You look kind of pale," David said. "I told you I'm fine," Trevor said, his hands shaking as he hurriedly put his guitar away. "I just have to go. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Thanks for the beer." "Uh... you brought the beer," Jeffrey said, the same puzzled look on his face. "Right... I meant, thanks for drinking it... with me," Trevor said, his eyes darting between Jeffrey and David. "I got to go!" With that David rushed out of the garage in a near panic. "Hey, do you mind if we drink the rest of your beer?" David called out to the fleeing Trevor. Jeffrey and David watched as Trevor walked briskly out of sight then looked at each other and shrugged. "He didn't say no," Jeffrey said. The walk home seemed surreal to Trevor. There were a few blatant and occasionally startling differences, but for the most part things just looked slightly off. Not much changes substantively over seven months and Trevor was having a hard time trusting his memory. The feeling continued with his home, parents, and even his room. Everything was familiar yet slightly off. A check on the internet confirmed it; the date was September 8. Trevor sat back on his bed with thoughts spinning through his head. This was real, the ring, the wizard, all of it. He had a magic ring! So where was it? It was not on his hand and not in his pockets. It was not on his desk or in his drawers. Thinking about it for a moment, he realized where he would have hidden something that he wanted kept secret. With a smile he pried up the floor air vent and pulled out a small box where he kept his stash. There, lying aside his rolling papers and two joints he did not know he had, was the familiar ring with the crossed double silver bands and small black stone. The Time & Place ring! A laugh escaped his lips as he slipped it on his finger and held it up to admire. He had the ring! He could have anything he wanted! He thought hard, trying to remember exactly what it was that the old man had told him about the ring. What 'the wizard' had told him about the ring, he thought, mentally correcting himself. The old man had said it would put him in a time and place where anything he wished for would be true. He could have anything he wanted. So what was it that he really wanted? How powerful was this ring? He smiled as he thought of something. "I want my band playing on stage in front of half a million people," he said, then promptly vanished. 17 August 1969, Bethel, NY In spite of the wish, Trevor was greatly surprised to find himself holding a guitar on an outdoor stage facing a sea of people. The sun was bright and shining and it was breezy out. The breeze made him realize that he was not wearing a shirt, just a leather vest with fringes. His jeans were tighter than he was used to and had obviously seen better days. Surprising as all that was, Trevor was most disturbed by the fact that the guitar he was holding was not his familiar axe, but rather was a twelve-string Gibson with feathers tied around the neck. Trevor looked up with a slight feeling of panic and was startled by the feeling of long hair on his neck and shoulders. He reached his left hand up to pull a strand of long dark and slightly dirty hair into view. Letting that go, he rubbed his chin only to feel way more beard than he had ever been able to grow. Where was he? Who was he? A few notes from an amplified base line made him look up to see he was not alone on the stage. His first impression was that his companion was a vagrant. Then he realized that this was a hippie. His shoulder length sandy colored hair hung matted and he had a long mustache with about five days worth of beard growth. He was wearing a tie-dyed t- shirt and dirty jeans. The baseline this hippie was laying down seemed to get Trevor going and he began playing into an oversized microphone. He found himself fingering an overly florid and marginally coherent rhythm on the familiar feeling twelve-string. 'Trippy' was the word that came to his mind. The two played off each other for a while in a polyrhythm that the audience seemed to appreciate. He heard the tambourine join in before he saw the girl spin and dance in on the stage. She was a bare-foot pleasantly curved girl with long black curly hair. She was wearing a multicolored dress that was probably too short for her. There was a ring of flowers in her hair and she had the word 'Love' written on her forehead in some sort of body paint. Trevor was getting slightly aroused watching her twirl as she shook her tambourine. She was not bad and actually kept a good rhythm. Trevor began grooving to the sound they had going and let his mind drift. He could not believe it. He was playing in front of a huge audience. Sure, it was not the music he normally played, and frankly, he was not sure it really was music. But the audience seemed to dig it and he was enjoying himself. It suddenly dawned on him that the ring had granted his wish. He was playing in front of half a million people. It took only another moment for him to remember that he had asked for his band to play in front of a half million people, not just him alone. Therefore, if he was here, then that dirty hippie with the sandy colored hair, playing the bass must be... Jeffrey? Trevor continued playing but concentrated on the bass player. There was little to connect him with the boy Trevor remembered beyond hair color and choice of musical instrument, but somehow though, Trevor knew that this was Jeffrey. The ring had changed Jeffrey and him into slightly older, hippie versions of themselves and had them playing in front of a huge crowd. So if Jeffrey was here, then where was David? Trevor's eyes widened with revelation as he looked on the tambourine girl. Dark curly hair, playing percussion... David? No, it was obscene. But if not, then who? The girl continued to dance and twirl on stage as she kept beat. Trevor actually stumbled musically, but recovered quickly. 'Jeffrey' glanced at him on the stumble but otherwise kept playing. The song petered off to an inconclusive ending, and the audience responded with scattered applause. Trevor and 'Jeffrey' nodded at each other and smiled. The girl curtsied to the audience, then flashed a peace sign. "All right, man," said a voice from behind them. "Cocker's here, we're ready to start." "Cool," Jeffrey said. It did not take Trevor long to realize that he was at Woodstock. It also did not take him long to realize that his band was not officially part of the concert, just a group of musicians they threw on stage to cover while they waited for the real act. He was not famous. He was just one out of a half million hippies that happened to have a guitar and was willing to play on stage to fill time. Bummer. Trevor walked the love fest in a foul mood. This sucks, he thought. He and his band were supposed to be rock stars, not penniless hippies living out of a Volkswagen van in the backstage parking lot. He was supposed to be famous. Now he was just some nobody called Jay, although he got the impression that that was not his name so much as a nickname or maybe a drug reference. His friends did not even seem to notice anything had changed. Jeffrey, or Sky as he was called now, still acted much like the old Jeffrey had. In other words, he wasted little time before seeking out feminine company. Trevor could deal with Jeffrey as Sky. He had a lot harder time dealing with David. Trevor had little doubt that the girl going by the name of Rainbow was in fact his old friend David and it freaked him out. Worse still, it seemed that Rainbow and he were now a couple and Rainbow had no problem showing public affection. As a sixteen-year old, Trevor had had only minimal sexual experience. He was no virgin but was definitely not used to having a woman show him easy affection. The fact that that woman used to be his friend David only made it worse. If only she wasn't so pretty, he thought as he ransacked the van looking for the ring. It had to be here. It was not on his hand, or in his pocket, or his guitar, or anywhere. He did not have it on him. It had to be in the van somewhere. An hour of fruitless searching and he was ready to admit defeat. The ring was not in the van. Dejectedly, he stepped out of the van, almost running over Jeffrey in the process. "Oh, wow. Hey man," Sky said. "You done with the van?" Trevor looked at the two girls on either side of Sky. "Yeah, man," he said. "It's all yours." "Right on," Sky said. "Hey, are things cool with you and Rainbow?" "Sure, why?" Trevor said warily. "Dunno," Sky said shrugging. "She's been your old lady for a long time and you seem kind of uptight around her." "Look, it's cool alright," Trevor said. "I'm just going through some heavy shit right now." "Groovy, man," Sky said. "I'm there for you. Just not right now, you know. Peace." Trevor watched as Sky entered the van with the two girls. This free love era had a lot going for it. Only problem was, he was hooked up with a girl who used to be his very male drummer. That was a little more 'free' than he was prepared to accept. The sudden downpour that drenched everything as walked back to the concert area did not brighten his mood. He stole a blanket from someone's backpack to cover himself and began to mutter curses at the rain, the mud welling up over his sandals, the way his clothes itched, the people around him, the music, and the rest of the universe in general. He saved some of his choicest invectives for the wizard and his magical disappearing ring. He stopped mid curse and his jaw hung open as he rounded the corner and came upon Rainbow dancing naked in the rain with her eyes closed. The sight of the nubile young woman with rain dripping off her wondrous exposed curves was riveting. She's beautiful, he thought as his eyes wandered over her smooth skin, long legs, and shapely ass. He forced himself to remember that this was David but began to feel a familiar stirring in his jeans anyway. The girl slowly danced around to give him a frontal view. Rain was dripping off her pert breasts, sending rivulets of body paint down a smoothly curved belly that seemed to lead the eye to the gap between her legs. Trevor forced his eyes away from that but could not turn them entirely away. It was then that he saw it. There, on a cord around Rainbow's neck and bouncing between those fabulous breasts, was a familiar glint of silver. The ring! Rainbow had it! In this time and place he must have given it to his girlfriend. Why on earth would he have done something like that? The rain continued as Rainbow danced, grinning at the downpour. After a while she opened her eyes and seeing Trevor, smiled even more broadly. "Jay!" she said. "Isn't it beautiful?" "Yeah," Trevor agreed, shifting his feet in the mud while trying to give his jeans more room. "So much peace and love," Rainbow said as she twirled. "I wish the whole world could be like this always!" Trevor flinched at her words and was greatly relieved when nothing happened. He reasoned the ring had its limits, or more likely, the ring had to be on a finger to work. He shuddered to think what could happen if Rainbow did slip the ring on her finger. He needed to get that ring off from around her neck. "Hey, babe," he said. "You want to go back to the van, maybe put on some dry clothes?" "I know why you want to go to the van," she said, moving her naked body up against him and giving him a short but passionate kiss. "But first I want to groove on this scene some more. We'll get it on later." "But, you'll get cold..." Trevor started to say but Rainbow was already flitting off into the crowd. "At least put some clothes on!" he called out as he chased after her. Trevor was successful in talking Rainbow into putting her dress back on, but if anything that only made his discomfort worse. The wet dress clung tightly to Rainbow's form, making Trevor imagine the body underneath with every lithe turn she made. The fact that this was David was still hammering in his head but the honest open sexuality of the girl was having a very different reaction on his body. Above all else, Trevor was desperate to get that ring back and kept cajoling Rainbow to come back to the van where he could slip it off from around her neck and make a quick wish. Eventually, she relented but not without some serious wooing from Trevor and not before an extended kissing session. Trevor's libido was colliding head on with his mental state and libido was winning. He needed that ring back fast. He rushed Rainbow to the van, urging her to hurry the whole way. Rainbow would giggle and deliberately stop until he kissed her again. Finally, they reached the van and after a quick check to make sure Sky was not still inside, Trevor pulled Rainbow into the back and closed the door. Trevor may have had the idea of quickly grabbing the ring and moving on, but he had forgotten to consider that Rainbow was a willing and eager participant. She was on him as soon as the door closed. Trevor's resistance held up for only a moment as Rainbow's hands ran up and down his chest before pulling at his pants. All the while, her mouth roamed hungrily across his face, neck, and chest. Trevor never had a chance. They made love several times in a variety of positions over the next couple of hours. All the time, Trevor had that same strangely familiar feeling he had with the twelve-string. That this was a pattern he had followed many times before. And, like the twelve-string, he found himself responding with rhythms he did not remember learning. Eventually the two bodies tired each other out and Trevor fell asleep holding Rainbow close to his side. Trevor awoke much later with Rainbow still asleep at his side. It was dark out with only the lights from the concert stage casting indirect illumination through the windows of the Volkswagen. The band on stage was playing a song he recognized. Something about what goes up must come down and spinning wheels got to be round. He kind of liked that song. Looking down at the girl beside him, he could just make out that she was still asleep with a smile on her face. For a brief moment he thought about his future starting from this point on, then his eyes fell on the cord around her neck. He was gentle as he lifted the ring from around Rainbow's neck. Untying the cord, he slipped it on his finger and held it up in the dim light. "I want to be a star," he said, "the center of attention." 22 May 1974, Berlin, West Germany Once again, Trevor was startled by the sudden transition. He found himself in a sitting room on a leather couch. There was the muffled noise of music and the roar of a crowd off in the distance. His fingers were strumming an unplugged electric guitar. They were thinner than he remembered and now had nail polish on them. He watched his silver nails flash through several complicated riffs he had not previously known. A bare-chested emaciated man with nipple rings interrupted him by leaning forward to snort a line of white powder off the glass coffee table in front of him. This man had short curly black hair and wore little else other than a pair of tight fitting gold pants. There was something about the man's earrings and the fact that he was wearing lipstick and mascara that reminded Trevor of someone. It finally struck home when the man picked up a pair of drumsticks and began tapping out a manic rhythm on the arm of his chair. Rainbow? I mean, David? Trevor thought, and immediately knew he was right. His erstwhile teenaged friend and band mate, was sitting beside him as a pushing 30's shirtless man, dressed strangely and snorting coke. Most disturbing to Trevor was that the makeup and jewelry were bringing out an echo of Rainbow, the girl he had sex with just before making his last wish. Boy, she really let herself go, was his second thought, but he found himself reacting to the memory of the night's lovemaking anyway. Trevor shook his head to rid himself of where those amorous thoughts were leading him and bent down to expertly take a line off the table himself. Leaning back and letting the comfortable rush settle in, he noticed the third person in the room. At first, he thought it was just some girl with long frosted blonde hair. Viewed from behind, the black wide-mesh shirt over a crop top complete with high-cut black neoprene shorts gave little to indicate otherwise. Something about her was familiar and the feeling grew in him that this must be Jeffrey. He became convinced of this when he saw her bend over and pick up an electric bass. So Jeffrey is a girl now, he thought, curiously unconcerned by the gender switch. He idly wondered if he would get the chance to have sex with her as he admired her bent over ass. He let his eyes trail along the backs of her fishnet stocking covered legs and knee-high platform boots and found himself getting warmly aroused at the thought. He wondered if Jeffrey would make a better girl than David had and if there was some way that he could use the ring to get them both in bed together to compare. Just then, Jeffrey turned around and it was immediately apparent from the square jaw, flat chest, and noticeable package in those tight shorts, that Jeffrey was still very much a man. Trevor was once again curiously unconcerned and found himself still wondering whether girl David or Jeffrey would be better in bed. His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Fifteen minutes, guys," someone shouted through the door. His friends got up and started making final adjustments to costumes and instruments. Trevor was admiring the way they moved, surprised to find himself wondering if their boy versions or girl versions would be better. A disturbing idea was beginning to creep into his thoughts. If both his band mates were male, and he was still having erotic feelings about them, then what did that make him? Using his guitar as a shield, he surreptitiously slipped a slender hand to his crotch. It was with great relief that he found exactly what he had hoped he still had. I am not a girl, he thought happily. Though he would not have guessed his gender by looking at his reflection. There were several mirrors in the room and Trevor had time to consider his appearance in one of them. His hair swept back and up, well coiffed and held up with hairspray. It had obvious red highlights colored in. His eyes were heavily outlined in mascara and were covered in sparkle eye shadow, silver in color. The sparkles extended onto his cheekbones where the silver color gave way to a flamboyant purple pink. His lips were bright red, accentuated by the pale even makeup that smoothed his complexion. Feather earrings dangled from each ear. What have I become? He wondered as he looked down at the white frilly blouse and pale blue spandex pants he wore. His spike-heeled boots did little to reassure his masculinity. He was small-framed and thin. The best that you could say about him was that he was androgynous and currently dressed to play up his femininity. "Can't stop admiring the view, Michael?" Jeffrey said, walking up and giving him a gently squeeze on the butt. "Blow me, Alex," he said automatically calling Jeffrey by that name. "Later love, first we have a show to put on," Jeffrey said, adjusting a few strands of his own hair in the mirror Trevor had been using. "You two fags almost ready?" David said. "Ryan's a little impatient," Jeffrey said, gesturing towards the drummer. "He must be eager to pound out a rhythm tonight. But like I said, first we have a show to put on." Trevor sighed before replying. "Alex, do you always have to be such a bitch about things," Trevor said, Jeffrey's new name sounding very familiar to him. Jeffrey feigned an expression of hurt before making a kissy face in reply. The entrance of a husky man with over-sized earphones and carrying a clipboard interrupted further conversation. "Michael, Alex, Ryan, you're on," he said. "Show time!" Jeffrey sang as he almost pranced out the door, followed by David still hammering out a silent rhythm in the air. Trevor was next and he found himself trailing his fingers across the husky man's chest as he exited. "Thanks Bennie," he said. What followed was a blur. Trevor found himself following his band mates through a gauntlet of well-wishers and stagehands that hurried him through dimly lit corridors and short staircases. He was expertly turned around props, electrical cables, and even a squealing group of teenage girls with backstage passes. All the while, the background rumble of a crowd chanting grew louder and louder. Finally, the band made its way onto the semi-lit stage and the chanting broke down into a ragged cheer that grew louder when the spotlight lit onto Trevor. Trevor walked up to the microphone and said, "Allo Berlin. Wie geht's?" The crowd erupted and the full stage lights came on, which was the band's cue to start on their first song. The concert was awesome, everything that Trevor could have wished for. Here he was, the center of attention, playing with his band in front of tens of thousands of screaming fans. He should have been enjoying himself, instead he found himself growing increasingly uncomfortable with the lyrics he was singing. For the most part the songs were just good rockers, heavy on guitar with normal enough lyrics tending toward esoteric references. Every now and then though, gender confusion would slip into the song. Sometimes it was subtle but other times it would be obvious. Since he was hearing these songs for the first time as he was singing them, it tended to catch Trevor very much by surprise. One song in particular started as a sultry love song that Trevor assumed was over some girl, but at the very end, it became apparent he was singing over some guy. No one else noticed his discomfort and the concert was a huge success. This sucks, Trevor thought, coming off stage after the third encore. Trevor's mood only worsened during the limo ride back to the hotel and the reception afterwards where two drag queens doted on him. "I'm going to my room," he shouted, throwing his glass to the floor and pushing the drag queens away. His band mates just shrugged. This was typical behavior for their temperamental leader and they knew that it was best to let him rant and rave, and then sulk for a while. Trevor stormed into his room and chased the lone security guard into the hall. He then threw a few pillows around dramatically before flopping in front of his dresser with his head down on his folded arms. He looked up at himself in the mirror. I look like a girl, he thought, then tore his earrings off angrily and threw them to the dresser top with a limp toss. What if he was stuck like this? Could he get used to it? What would sex be like now? He had a brief mental vision of kneeling in front of one of his band mates while another grabbed his hips from behind. That was enough to spur him to action and he tore through the drawers of his dresser looking for the ring. It had to be here! The problem was that he had a lot of jewelry now and most of it filled the drawers in a jumble. He stopped to gather his thoughts, also to stop from crying. Where would this version of him keep something as precious as the ring? There were pictures of him all around the dresser in a variety of hair and makeup styles. They all seemed to mock him as the ring was easily visible in each photo. In fact, he seemed to be showing it off. His eyes fell to a small ornate jewelry box sitting by itself prominently in front of the mirror. I would show it off, he thought reaching for the box. Opening it, he found the familiar ring with the crossed double silver bands and small black stone sitting neatly displayed on a pink satin insert. The Time & Place ring! Thank god, he thought, slipping it on his finger. He had a brief moment of doubt. So far the ring had given him nothing but trouble. If he used it again, who knew what he would end up doing. At least now he was a big star leading a life of sex, drugs, and rock and roll, even if it was not sex in quite the way he had envisioned. He almost took the ring off. Instead, he held the ring to his lips and spoke softly. "I want to be in a more masculine band," he whispered. "Nothing gay." And promptly vanished. 16 October 1993, Milwaukee, Wisconsin Trevor once again found himself on stage holding a guitar. This time he recovered rapidly and quickly scanned himself. He was wearing a loose fitting black t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. His hair was shaggy enough to cover his ears and a little bit in his eyes but not long enough to touch his shoulders. His nails were neatly trimmed and unpolished. So far so good, he thought. The audience was a disappointment on first glance. Instead of tens of thousands of people, he was looking at a couple of hundred at most. Everyone sat at tables if they were not mingling and waitresses were bringing drinks, mostly beer, around to the patrons. I'm in a bar, Trevor thought, looking at the small cleared dance area in front of the band and the collection of pinball machines and video games tucked in the far corner of the room. We are a bar band, he realized. He turned nervously to look at his band and was very relieved to find them both looking nothing like the glam rock band they had been just prior to his last wish. David looked particularly manly. Trevor could not help but notice the broad shoulders and strong biceps of the drummer dressed as he was in a simple wife-beater t-shirt. It made Trevor feel small looking down at the skinny little arms he had. Trevor was beginning to think that he had not physically changed much at all from this last wish. He was still very small-framed and thin. Even Jeffrey seemed to have gained almost foot in height on him and considerable bulk. The bass player was also simply dressed in a red t-shirt and blue jeans and definitely filled out his t-shirt more that Trevor did his. There was little time for further examination as Jeffrey and David kicked off a solid R&B beat that just begged Trevor's lead to join in. Trevor obliged and the three of them belted out an instrumental rock number that was well received by the bar patrons. Their next song was also well received, as was the next and the one after that. All of their songs were well received and the bar room was raucous before very long. Trevor was having a blast. He danced around stage playing his heart out and singing with as much gusto as he could manage. His voice was not particularly bass, more of a throaty alto but with a higher range than he had in any of his previous incarnations. It played well off Jeffrey's deeper voice. Overall, the evening was a complete success. Trevor was on a euphoric high after last call and the band's final encore as he followed Jeffrey and David off stage where a man in a suit met them. "Great show, guys," the man said. "Now get yourselves back on the bus and get some rest. We start a new week in Chicago Monday night and you need to be sharp. Gerry will get the roadies to load your stuff. You guys get cleaned up and get some sleep. We want an early start." There were general groans and complaints as well as one sarcastic 'yes Karl' from David, so Trevor figured out this was Karl and that he was apparently the band's manager. That was cool. He never had a manager before. "Oh, Chris," Karl said, reaching out to grab Trevor by the arm. "Can I have a word with you? In private." "Sure," Trevor said, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "You guys go ahead. I'm just going to talk to um... Karl, for a second." David and Jeffrey just shrugged and left Trevor alone with Karl. "Listen, kid," Karl said, lighting himself a cigar as he spoke. "You really showed a lot of talent there tonight." "Thanks," Trevor said, still unsure what this man wanted. Karl was a lot bigger than Trevor and while not overtly threatening, he did pose an intimidating presence. "Don't thank me," Karl said, exhaling a small cloud of blue smoke. "Talent don't mean shit if you don't get noticed. You have to package yourself and make people notice you. Jeans and t-shirts ain't gonna cut it." "I'll... try harder," Trevor replied, still not sure what Karl was getting at. "That's the spirit!" Karl said, "Show yourself off some. The band will appreciate it." "I'll try, I mean I will," Trevor said, nodding. He was desperate to please or at least not disappoint his manager. He was willing to agree to almost anything. "Great," Karl said, rolling the cigar in his mouth. "Oh, and uh, have you given any thought to that thing I asked you about?" "Thing?" Trevor said. "You know, the procedure?" Karl said, prompting Trevor with a nod. "Oh, the procedure," Trevor said, nodding in return. He had no idea. "I hadn't given it much thought." "You should. Think about it, I mean," Karl said. "It would do wonders for your stage act. Might be enough to get your whole band noticed. That would be nice, wouldn't it? You, Kevin, and Andrew, all making it big. You want that don't you?" "Sure," Trevor replied, nodding enthusiastically. He decided that Kevin and Andrew must be David and Jeffrey, although he was not sure which was which. "Hey, a lot of stars got a little cosmetic work done," Karl said. "No shame in that. Hell, it's probably even tax deductable. Promise me you'll think about it." "I promise I'll think about it," Trevor said, still no real idea what Karl was talking about. "That's all I ask," Karl said, smiling. "Now go get some rest." Trevor was still mystified as he got on the bus. The bus, it turned out, was nothing more than a small RV. It had a kitchenette with a small table and several seating benches that were currently folded down for beds complete with screening curtains. Home sweet home, Trevor thought. Just then, Jeffrey came out of the bathroom in the back of the bus. "Uh, nobody go in there for a few minutes," he said, making his way to the front of the bus. "Jesus, Kev," David said sitting at the table and wrinkling his nose. "Couldn't you have taken care of that in the bar?" "Are you kidding?" he said. "Do you know how dirty those places are? Toss me a beer." Trevor sat down at the table opposite David as David tossed a beer to Jeffrey. David kept one for himself and opened another for Trevor before handing it to him. Trevor took a big swallow and thought things over. His name was now Chris, that part he understood and it seemed natural enough to him. It felt like it fit. And David had just called Jeffrey 'Kev', which meant that Jeffrey's name was now Kevin. That meant David's name was now Andrew. The names rolled around familiarly in his head. He could get used to this. The three band mates continued drinking and joking, and enjoying the afterglow of a successful show. "So what did Karl want?" Andrew asked him after a while. "Not much," Trevor said. "He just wanted me to dress better. I said I would." "Really?" Kevin said. "I mean, that's great!" "You'd do that?" Andrew asked. "Yeah, well, sure, why not?" Trevor asked, taking another sip of beer. "Won't hurt to dress a little flashier, do some advertising." "Absolutely! After all, no one's coming to look at our ugly mugs," Kevin said indicating he was talking about Andrew and himself. "Amen to that," Andrew said. Trevor was not sure what the boys were talking about. Both of them seemed to be very tall and well muscled to him. As far as Trevor could tell Andrew and Kevin were both good looking guys in their mid-twenties. Probably a lot of women would have found them attractive. That train of thought was making Trevor a little uncomfortable so he sought for some way to change the topic of conversation. "Karl also wanted me to think about getting that procedure he's been talking about," Trevor said. "I said I'd think about it." Kevin and Andrew nearly choked on their beers. "You said what?!?" Kevin managed to blurt out after regaining his breath. "What Kevin's trying to say," Andrew said in a calmer more collected voice. "Is that if this is something you want to pursue, then both of us are one hundred percent behind you." "Totally," Kevin nodded in agreement. "You would look awesome with more... you know... assets... up front." Trevor still had no idea what the guys were talking about, but he was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. "Yeah, um... I'm just going to get cleaned up and maybe hit the sack," he said, getting up slowly from the table. "Yeah, sure, whatever you want," Andrew said. "Just keep thinking about it." "Yeah, yeah. Think about it," Kevin added. Both men were grinning like idiots. Trevor wanted to ask them what was going on but had no idea how to phrase the question. Instead he shook his head and made his way back to the bathroom. "Good night," he called out as he turned. "Good night!" both Andrew and Kevin said in unison. Trevor was still shaking his head as he closed the door on the bathroom and turned to face the mirror for his first real look at his new body. His first impression gave him a disconnect between what he saw and what he understood. For a moment, he thought he had been transformed into a young boy, maybe twelve; smooth skin, small chin and nose, high cheekbones, no Adam's apple. Then he noticed the tiny silver ball earrings, one in each of his ear lobes. That disturbed him, but not as much as his t-shirt did. The shirt was still damp with sweat from the concert. That is, it was soaked through and looked darker everywhere except for narrow strips over each shoulder and a wider strip across his chest. That bad feeling Trevor had was beginning to get worse. He pulled his t-shirt off rapidly over his head and stared with incomprehension at his reflection. He was wearing some sort of sleeveless undershirt that did not even reach the bottom of his ribs. It was a pastel green with a wide lacy bottom edge and seemed to have a slight padded puffiness centered on his pectorals. Something about it screamed for recognition but he was too distracted by the changes he noticed in his body to pay much attention to his clothes. He was thinner than he had imagined, with a narrow chest and sloping shoulders leading to a collarbone that framed a graceful looking neck. Narrow as his chest was, his waist was even narrower, except where it flared out again to meet his hips. His hips may have been the widest part of his body. His jeans hung low and clung tight, almost at the widest part, well below his belly button. There was something odd about the way his smooth flat belly curved down and inward without interruption. Trevor undid the skinny belt he wore and unzipped his fly before lowering his pants to mid-thigh. He was wearing panties, very lacy, and very skimpy, and barely covering a low mound. Trevor could not believe it. It still had not dawned on him how well they fit. Panties. He was wearing panties, pastel green ones that matched his... that matched his bra, damn it. Trevor lifted the bottom of his bra as high as the material let him and exposed the only fleshy part of his chest. He had boobs. Small ones. Trevor did not know anything about cup sizes, but he could tell these were small. There were plenty of girls in his old high school that were better developed than this, probably most of them. Nonetheless, he had boobs. His nipples tightened reflexively in the cool air as he sat down on the toilet seat with a thud. It was all starting to click into place for Trevor. The earrings, the underwear, the hips, the voice, the boobs. He was not a twelve year-old boy. He was a girl, or a woman, or something. How old was he anyway? He had to be at least eighteen or he would not be touring with a bunch of guys, would he? Trevor tried to examine his body, touching himself as little as possible to see if he could determine his age. He found he had shaved armpits and that he definitely had pubic hair so he was more than twelve. It was a good thing he had been sitting on the toilet when he pulled his panties down because he definitely peed a little when he saw what his crotch looked like. He was a woman, all right. A woman with small boobs. Trevor hastily cleaned himself up and put all his clothes back in order before leaving the bathroom. "Everything all right, Chris?" Andrew asked him. "Yeah. Yeah, fine," Trevor answered, his face pale and a dazed look in his eyes. "Everything's normal. Fine. I'm just going to get some sleep." "You sure?" Kevin asked, looking concerned. "Yes, everything's fine. Well, goodnight." With that, Trevor went to one of the beds and pulled the privacy screen all the way around. He then tried to get some sleep. But not before tearing through all his belongings in a desperate but unsuccessful search for the ring. 24 January 1994, Los Angeles, CA Trevor walked into her LA apartment carrying a small personal bag and her guitar case. She sniffed as she looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. This was Christine's apartment, and even if her driver's license said he was in fact Christine Henders and that this was her address, it was still the first time she had ever been here. The place was neat and clean, with scattered feminine touches throughout. There was a dried flower arrangement and some potpourri. The curtains had ruffles and the pillows had tassels. Last year's calendar still hung on the wall, showing a picture of kittens. These and a dozen other little features left the overall impression of this being a woman's apartment. Trevor had become somewhat accustomed to being a woman, which is not to say he had come to accept his situation. It was just that three months of living the life forced one to come to terms with both the physical reality and social expectations of being a woman. Trevor sighed and put her bag and guitar down on the floor beside the couch, automatically pulling her purse back up on her shoulder from where it had slipped, and headed for the kitchen. A quick check of the fridge showed nothing but some aging condiments and a package of baking soda. There were some half-evaporated ice cubes in the freezer and an unopened bottle of gin in the cupboard. Trevor put her purse on the counter and poured out three fingers into a glass with a little ice. Being of drinking age was almost the only benefit to her transformation. Not that it did her much good. Being five foot three and having almost no breasts meant that she got carded everywhere she went no matter what she wore. It was not fair. She was twenty-six, damn it. Thinking about her boobs put her in a foul mood. Why was it always about boobs, she thought, taking her drink into the living room to retrieve her things. At first Trevor had been grateful to only have what she had found out was an A cup. Her boobies did not bounce much at all on her or get in the way of things. She did not really need a bra if not for those darn nipples popping out at inopportune times. After a while though, she began to feel a little inadequate about her chest. People treated you different when you had boobs and it seemed that every girl she met had bigger boobies than her. She could be waiting patiently in line and every girl with cleavage would waltz on in ahead of her. Kevin and Andrew were no exception. They were all idiots about any girl with big floppy tits. Being a girl sucked, she thought, taking a hefty swallow of her gin and carrying her personal bag to her bedroom. There was this constant pressure to look pretty, not just from guys but other girls too. That surprised her. It was a freaking competition with some of them to see who could get the most attention. Trevor considered her ass in the full-length mirror beside her bed. The tight fitting jeans definitely showed off her butt, her best asset, or so she had been told. Maybe too much, she thought, wondering if she looked fat. She had been dieting lately and trying to dress sexier, Karl's idea. But dressing sexier meant that she had to diet even more, so she could dress even sexier, which led to more dieting. Like some sort of vicious circle, she thought. She thought she looked fat. She was wrong, but she still felt that way. Her thighs felt enormous and she had a hard time getting rid of that little pooch of belly fat just above the bikini line. "Everywhere but where it counts," she said aloud, sighing as she posed in front of the mirror. Not for the first time, she wondered if she should go ahead and get the procedure that Karl was always urging on her. She tried to picture herself with a boob job. How big could they make them? She sat down in the living room and kicked off her shoes to rub her feet. She was up to four-inch heels now, and had not quite adjusted to the extra strain. The guys in the band kept urging her to go higher but they were not the ones who had to jump around the stage with a small skirt and high heels. She would like to see them try. She still had a hard time walking in heels and she had been wearing them for two months now. Trevor thought back to her first time. It was a photo shoot. Karl had convinced her it would look sexy and sell records. It was also the first time she had ever worn makeup. Karl convinced her about a lot of things. Trevor turned on the television only to find the cable was still off. She would have to have Karl take care of that in the morning. If she was going to live out the rest of her life as Christine Henders, she wanted cable. Trevor thought about that. The rest of her life. Could she do it? Not that she had much choice. This apartment was her last hope. If the ring was not here then she truly was Christine Henders for the rest of her life. Unless she got married, she thought, chuckling aloud. Then she would be Mrs. Christine Something-or-other. Tears started to well up in her eyes as she thought about marriage. She was getting emotional again, just like a girl, she thought. She was supposed to kiss the bride not be the bride, she thought, as a tear rolled down one cheek. Trevor brushed at the tear and got a hold of her emotions before making her way to the bathroom. She should have been looking for the ring, but decided on a bath instead. She had been a woman for three months now, she could put up with one more hour for a good hot soak. Trevor lay back in the oil-scented water with a sigh and let the heat soak out some of her tension. Her travel clothes lay strewn on the floor but she did not care. A hot bath had been a rare luxury these last few months, one she had come to enjoy greatly. It was silly to get emotional thinking about marriage. She was probably just a little hormonal because her period was coming up, that's all. Nothing wrong with being a bride, or even a mother. After all, she was a girl. She shifted her weight in the tub and felt the water lap over her breasts. They may be small, but they were still breasts, she thought, idly circling her nipples with her fingertips. Her nipples responded as they usually did. It felt good, almost electric. She kept circling a nipple with her left hand as he let her right slip under the water and reach down. She needed this. There had been precious little opportunity for self-pleasure on the bus. And being with a man was still a little too much for her. The closest she had come to that was when she had gotten drunk at Christmas, and French kissed both Kevin and Andrew. She shivered with pleasure as she touched that spot she liked. Would this be better, she wondered, having a man touch her there? Maybe while she was being kissed? She thought about that for a while, letting the feelings build, while she rubbed, before finally climaxing with a gasp and a shudder. She lay there in the afterglow until the water started to cool. Trevor climbed out of the tub and started drying herself off. She always felt a little depressed after masturbating, a feeling which was not helped by her latest bad mood. She was also starting to get a bloated feeling from her upcoming period, which only made her weight problem feel worse. "Being a girl sucks," she said, this time aloud to her blurry reflection in the steamy bathroom mirror. She had been saying that a lot lately. She continued with her self-maintenance, anyway. Legs were still good, she would not need to shave them any time soon, just some moisturizer. Toenails also good, but she might want to try a different color next time. Better wear a pad, just in case, she thought wrapping one into place and pulling up a fresh pair of panties. Armpits could use a swipe, both razor and deodorant. A deep face cleansing was next. She thought about a masque, but figured she could put it off until later. Hair, good enough for now, but she was really going to need an appointment soon. Stretchy Capri's and a soft oversized sweatshirt and she was dressed and ready to go. Makeup? No, not tonight. Tonight she was going to look for the ring. There would be plenty of opportunity for makeup later if the ring was not here. Trevor was thorough. Yet it still took her over two hours of searching the tiny apartment before she found it. It was in a locked jewelry box stashed high in the back of the closet. She had to get a chair to even look up there. There was no bothering with a key as took the box into the kitchen and popped the lock with a knife. She had the ring! She slipped it on over her thumb. Even there, it still hung loose, but she had it on. Trevor sat down on one of the kitchen stools and looked around her small apartment. Christine's apartment, she thought. And Christine's life. Long tours in a tiny bus with two jerks who could not remember to put the seat down. Where the biggest thing she had to look forward to was a boob job. Not my life, she vowed. "I want to go back home," she said, "with Jeffrey and David still playing in the garage. Before I started all this ring stuff. With no more bus, no more Karl, no more stupid talk of boob jobs and I..." Trevor vanished before she could finish the thought. 16 Feb 2007, Tarzana, CA Trevor knew right away that she had not gotten exactly what she wanted. She was still a woman for one. She was very much more of a woman judging by the cleavage she now had. I am huge, she thought grabbing at her chest. In reality she was now a healthy C cup, which definitely seemed huge compared to what she had before. These boobs had a heft to them that actually needed a bra. She could feel them tugging on the bra straps with a slight delayed reaction to her every movement. Looking down at herself, all he could see was cleavage, the top of her t-shirt, and long wavy brown hair hanging down past her shoulders. She had to bend over just to look past her own boobs. What she saw was a taught belly and belly ring exposed by the rib-tickler t-shirt she wore and a tight fitting low-slung skirt. If Trevor had thought she had hips before, she was dumbfounded by the wicked curves that now filled out her skirt. This can't be real, she thought, looking at the very sexy body she wore. It felt like a cartoon body of a woman. Trevor was now an extremely well proportioned young woman. It was only in comparison with the coltish body of the skinny guitar player she had been that made this body seem to be an exaggerated version of femininity. She was fit and sexy, but all Trevor could notice was the soft padded feel of a very girly body. She had to find out who she was, what she had become. There was a look of desperation in her eyes as she looked around her. She was in a bedroom, a very nice bedroom. It had a deep pile carpet and expensive looking furniture. A closet was open, showing more clothes than Trevor had ever owned before. There was also a dresser, bestrewn with cosmetics and jewelry. Trevor hurried to the dresser, feeling her ass and tits bounce with every step. The ring was not there. Trevor looked up at her reflection and stopped in stunned amazement. Her reflection looked back with a very shocked look on her face. Trevor giggled. It was a strained nervous kind of giggle. She recognized the face that looked back at her from the mirror. Oh, sure she was more used to seeing that face as a blonde, but there was no mistaking it. She knew who she was. She was still giggling when she left her apartment and walked over to a nearby hair salon where she asked the stylist to cut off all of her hair. When the stylist refused, Trevor grabbed the clipper and cut it all off herself anyway. She was still giggling when they came and put her into rehab for 'exhaustion'. Fortunately, her father announced that he would be taking over her affairs until such time as she was able to recover and rebuild her career. Her ex-husband was even nice enough to let her visit her children, under supervision of course. Meanwhile, at the mall, the wizard hummed a tune as he put the Time & Place ring back into stock. It always seemed to work out that whoever had the ring would eventually want to come back to where it all started. Of course, that did not solve anything. It just brought the wearer back to the time and place where the wizard owned the ring. Pity about Trevor's little meltdown at the end there. That was definitely going to put a kink in her career and the wizard's finances. But the wizard was confident she would get it together enough to put out another album. When she did, he would get three percent of the net. It made him chuckle, thinking of Trevor trying to adjust to life as a pop princess. It amused him enough to break into song. "Oops, I did it again," he sang as he straightened the display of rings. He stopped however when the tinkle of the bell announced another customer. The End