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Angel In The Mirror By: Anon Allsop I tipped my book slightly; the glare from the reflecting sun upon the glossy pages was blinding me. I slowly rubbed the spots from my eyes, and lifted my head from my studies, looking away and trying to blink through the brilliant white spot that seemingly hovered in position upon my gaze. I slowly closed my textbook and sat it beside me on the leaves, deep into my fourth year of college, I had done enough heavy reading to last me a lifetime. I was perched up on a high hill, the land gently sloped downward where it leveled off in the distance; meeting the suburban sidewalk of the addition where I lived with my father. Pulling my knees into my chest, I rest my chin upon my folded arms. A gentle breeze drifted against my skin, cool but still comfortable against my exposed legs on this late fall afternoon. Several dried leaves tumbled along as they skipped across my feet until they became caught up in the withered blades of grass. My eyes caught a slight movement; a young deer was noiselessly picking its way along a trail that ran about half-way up the slope. The path it was on, would take it several hundred yards to my left where it opened up on the back-side of a local farmer's field. The doe would walk a few steps and lift her head, sniff the air and look around. At one point, she looked directly at me, I could swear that she knew I was there. Her head lowered, ears twitched forward, studying the strange lump at the base of the tree that was me for several long seconds. I sat frozen in time, scarcely breathing, in awe of being so close to this creature of nature. The doe looked down the hill, towards children that were riding their bikes along the sidewalk. She nervously watched them, her tail twitching rapidly as she contemplated her next move. She blew a soft blast of air out of her nose, tamping her hoof against the ground in warning, then quickly, albeit noiselessly raced toward the field and safety. I smiled as I watched her disappear into the distance, her white flag the last thing I could see. The sun was dappling the ground, here or there, only to be broken by the shadows from the canopy of dying leaves that had grown profusely during the warmer spring and summer. I inhaled deeply, the moist earthy then smells of fall, soon to be covered with the crisp, clean air of winter snows. Somewhere below me I heard a gleeful child's laughter, my eyes sought out from where the happy sounds came. A young girl was riding circles at the end of a cul-de-sac; her handlebar streamers reflecting back silver in the bright sun. I smiled at her childlike innocence; here was someone so comfortable in her youthful form. I felt the smile slowly fade, as though I was but a robot that has had its power removed. My eyes lowered, my gaze locking onto the leaves on the woodland floor, a myriad of color that reminded me of the paint on an artist's pallet. I could feel the muscles of my jaw tighten, only slightly though before the bitter memories of my early youth washed into my mind. The forest floor I had been staring at moments before, began to subtly change, I could feel the anger I once had, slowly wash from my system. The sunny spots, the mottled and drying leaves, small clusters of green grass my gaze had once been fixed to, all blurred and formed a pattern in my eyes as tears welled. I had hated her so, I recalled; but I had a right to for what she had done to me. Locking me in a form that seemed impossible, and yet it was much like a lifelong prison. I can still hear my father whisper to me as I glared at her lifeless form as it lay in the coffin, 'Mama was sick in her head darling, she didn't know what she was doing.' I remembered looking up at him, my eyes cold and unfeeling, responding in a voice that was bitter with resentment. 'She knew exactly what she was doing, Papa.' He said nothing in reply, his gaze slowly dropping toward the floor, perhaps in sorrow at the part he played in my changing...or perhaps didn't play in preventing it from happening in the first place. Those days so long ago, shrouded in the past, were like trying to recall the dialogue of a movie. You can remember the plot and the eventual outcome, but gone was the little nuances that made up bits of the story. I was so young when she used that damnable medallion on me, its properties twisting and reshaping my form into that of a little girl my own age. Then she added insult to injury, placing the little necklace in a garage sale, forcing me to watch it leave with a young couple. Seeing them walk off with my only way to return to normal was akin to pushing a dagger into my back, slowly twisting it again and again. I honestly felt that I died on that day, losing all hope of ever returning to what I once was. In my mind, I plotted a bitter end to her, to my own mother. I wanted to take her life as she had mine, plotting her eventual demise each time I closed my eyes for bed. I did love my mother, but there was an evil side of me that wanted retribution for her action. Having to wake each morning, still locked like a prisoner in my feminine vault, reminded of her sentence of me each time I looked at that..that girl in the mirror. Over that first year, my parents fought constantly. Each day the waning love my father once had for her, washed away like waves against the shore, a constant ebb and flow that eroded whatever had once been 'theirs'. No longer were they talking, it seemed our little family had broken into two camps...my father and I on one side...and my mother and helpless baby sister Leah, on the other. By the following spring, my father and I had moved out, and mother was living alone with Leah. The time that elapsed did help in my bitterness, days that once were full of night crawlers and frogs had been transformed, like me, into barbies and princesses. It seemed that each day I was trapped as that little girl became easier, even answering to 'her' name as it was my own. The humiliation of returning to school as a girl caused me great anxiety, so fearful that my classmates would see through my disguise and recognize me as whom I once was. *** Sitting up, I wiped my eyes and leaned the back of my head against the tree. The softly blowing breeze was carrying the scent of fall in its tender embrace. I inhaled deeply, wanting to remember this moment for the rest of my life...for the decision I needed to make was...forever. If someone would ask you, 'Do you remember what you were doing on September 11, 2001? Unless you had been living under a rock, you could relate exactly everything about that horrible day. It was a memory emblazoned in our minds that it would take generations to forget. Today for me was somewhat like that, only on a much smaller scale. Behind me I could hear a tractor as it pulled a plow through the field, the turned soil had a musty, earthy smell. I craned my neck to watch, it was a life I could easily lead, tilling the soil and preparing to make life from a single seed once winter released her icy grip. I slowly pulled myself up and sat my book on a log, eventually taking my place beside it but not before brushing the dead leaves and dirt from my denim shorts. I was purposefully delaying my answer, prolonging what could prove to be my destiny for just a while longer, afraid to make a decision that I might regret. My mind returned to that fateful day, seemingly so long ago; the day my father broke the news of the accident that took my mother and little sister. I placed my forearms onto my thighs, allowing my hands to relax between my parted knees. *** There was a knock on the bedroom door, "There's been an accident, Jen...please, open the door!" Something about the emotion in his voice compelled me to push my self pity aside and scramble to unlock the door. It swung open and my father fell to his knees, drawing me into a bear- like hug and sobbing in my ear. "Daddy?" I asked softly. "Daddy, what is it?" He looked up and into my face, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Your mother...Leah.." he stammered. "What about them?" I frantically asked. "What's happened?" I began to cry myself without even knowing what I was crying about, his voice cracked as he attempted once again to say. Slowly he moved toward the bed and pulled me along with him, drawing me close and crying even louder. "They're gone...it was an automobile accident." He sobbed into the palms of his hands. Now it was my turn to hold onto him as I began to cry as well. He began to try to explain, talking and crying at the same time. "Leah must have been crying, witnesses in the car behind them told the police that your mama turned to look into the back of the seat and her car drifted off the road. Your Mama over-corrected and rolled her car...several times." He stared into my face, tears clinging to his cheeks. Tears welled in my vision as I stood staring at the floor, my bottom lip quivered with raw emotion. "I'm sorry mama..." I cried as I felt my legs buckle and I fell to the floor. *** In a dazed stupor, I sat unmoving as I watched the two long white hearse's turn into the cemetery. Papa and I were in the third car, being driven by a kind employee of the funeral home. My eyes burned from crying over the past two days...week, in reality. Papa sat quietly beside me with his arm gently holding me close. Guilt from all the evil things that raced through my mind and wished on my mother..they all ate at me, consuming my soul in a dark evil despair that I could never hope to escape from. I knew that I had been sealed in this prison of mine for a lifetime, I had no real hope of ever returning to the boy I had been. But...I no longer had that one tangible villain that I could focus my anger upon...she had been ripped from me as my gender had been. As the car stopped and our driver opened the door for me, I looked up at father. His red eyes still held tears, I felt sorry for him in a way, even though he had argued with mama, he did still love her. I stopped being angry at him long ago. Sure, he could have stopped her in some way, but papa was weak and mama always took advantage of that. In the quiet rain I stood and watched as the water dripped from a preacher's umbrella. He spoke of the good things that my mother did during her life...I would have been alright had I not heard the man speak of the two beautiful little girls that she brought into the world. Those words stung at my very core, I shook my hand loose from my fathers and headed back to the car. I crawled back into the long 'family car' and closed the door behind me. Sitting at the window, watching the rain roll down the glass, I began sobbing. I wasn't crying for her or Leah, I was selfish and crying for me. She was gone, Leah was gone, but I was still here, trapped in this hell she put me into. *** I slowly stood and picked my book from the log, making my way higher, I stood by the field and watched the tractor as it pulled the plow and turned the soil behind it. I leaned against the fencing and put my foot through one of the squares, my vision preoccupied by a tiny butterfly as it danced around a wildflower. Even this lone straggler didn't know what to do, leaving would be prudent but knowing better wasn't part of the plan. Again my mind drifted back all of those years, back to a time when decisions were oh so much simpler. I still remember it was only a few weeks after we had buried mama and Leah, that everything seemed to change for me. Papa and I had moved back to the house we had once lived, abandoning the apartment in an attempt to save a bit of money. I had returned to my old school but few really remembered me...well, they didn't know the 'girl' me and it bothered me greatly. Friends that I had long ago, no longer knew who I was; best friend that I had just before my change seemed to be bent on name calling and treating me so badly...just because I was a girl. After school, the bus dropped me off in front of the house, instead of going inside like I was supposed to; I made a beeline to the park across the street from our home. I walked to the park in a funk, bitter and feeling sorry for myself, I unceremoniously deposited my book bag on the ground near the fountain. Slowly heading toward the swing, I began to feel the need to cry. It is such a silly thing that I seem to do without thinking sometimes...such a girl thing to do. "Jeffrey?" I heard a male voice call out softly. I continued to walk, buried deeply with my own sorrowful thoughts, again the voice called out. "Jeffrey?" I paused and looked around; it had been so long since I heard that name that it sounded almost alien to me. I nodded. "I...used to be called Jeffery," then looked back toward 'her' house, "but that was long ago, before she..." The man held out the baggie, my eyes grew wide as I realized what he held. I looked from the bag he held and then to him, "The medallion!" I looked upward toward the man, his face so familiar. "I...I remember you!" I recalled, "You two bought this from our garage sale, didn't you!" The man nodded as his young wife pulled their child from the infant swing. "Take it, do whatever you need to with it." He looked at his wife for reassurance, "We don't need it anymore." Tears streamed down my cheeks. "Thank you! How... how can I ever repay you for..." I fingered the baggie and its contents, tiny droplets of tears falling upon its clear surface. The pretty woman pulled me close and hugged me tenderly. "It'll be okay, you'll see." She said in a motherly whisper. "It can be a hurtful thing...but it can also be a blessing, I can attest to that for myself!" I felt as though I would burst with happiness, quickly hugged them tightly and ran home, as fast as my legs could carry me. I stormed into the house with the little baggie, cradling it in my small hands like a priceless object. It was true; to me that little cherub hanging at the end of the chain was THE key to release me from my prison. I raced to the side of my father, seated in his chair and silently going over the day's mail. He glanced at me and lowered his reading glasses. "I can see by the way you are breathing that something has you excited." I swallowed hard as he was speaking, still trying to gather what had just happened...really did happen. "Was it the boys from school teasing you again?" I vigorously shook my head 'no', the action sending my long hair swinging. I couldn't even speak, I just held out the baggie so he could look at it. I knew I had his attention when he sat up straighter and gently took it from my grasp. "I'll be damned Jennifer, where did you find it?" "Those people, the ones that mama sold the necklace to...I was in the park and they just...just gave it to me." I felt the pull of a smile drawing up the corners of my mouth. "Are you sure that's the real thing?" he asked as he examined it through the protective baggie. "There's only one way to find out, Papa," I chirped, sounding hopeful. He looked at me for several long moments, the silence was deafening. "We don't have any more of your old clothes, Jennifer." I frowned and looked back at the baggie lying where he had placed it, still on the table. "Can we do like mama did, and just buy new clothes... I mean, for a boy my age?" He screwed up his mouth as if deep in thought. "I suppose we could, if you really wanted to go back to being a boy." I gave him a shocked look. "Of course I want to go back to being a boy..." He interrupted me before I could finish. "You have been Jennifer for almost three years, and there is no trace of the boy you used to be still left in you!" I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. "I can't stay like this any longer, papa...I just can't!" He reached out and lifted my head, his palm at my cheek, and his thumb gently pushed away my tears. "All...all right, Jen...we'll change you back." *** Hearing a sound down by the cul-de-sac I looked over my shoulder, far below I could hear the children giggling as they rode in circles with their bikes. I reached over the fence, and plucked a dying 'Queen Ann's Lace' from its stem. I chuckled to myself as I thought back about my return to Jeffery, perhaps papa had been right, three years of being Jennifer had left an undeniable imprint on my mind. Early on, I had to remind myself to 'act male', and yet often my body seemed to revert back to its old way. Sighing I tossed the flower onto the ground, then promptly stepped on it as I scooped up my book bag and slung it on my shoulder. Pushing my hand deep into my pocket I began to pick my way down the incline toward the cul-de-sac, all the while my thoughts kept returning back to those early days of once again being Jeffery. *** I couldn't understand what was wrong with me. I would see my father, a big guy with manly features and then look at my reflection in the mirror; narrow shoulders, smaller stature, skinny...almost effeminate. At sixteen, you would have thought that I would be bursting with the same manly traits that my father possessed...but no. Papa's theory was that I had spent too much time as a girl. Oh, I knew that I could have used that damnable thing to alter parts of me, but the sheer terror of what I had lived through for those years was enough to keep it at bay. It was true, I still had it, safely hidden in the back of my closet... and I swore to myself that I would never again use it...EVER! Just the chance of accidentally locking myself in another form, scared the living hell right out of me! Often, when I felt as though I would crumble under the lure of the medallion, I forced myself from such close proximity and retreated to the higher confines of a little wooded area near my home. From my lofty perch, I could see all that transpired within my block whether I cared to or not. I recall watching a young teenage girl riding her bicycle without hands, arms spread out to the side like she was imitating an airplane. She had her face in the warm sun and she was just coasting along, made a loop through our cul-de-sac and road back out the way she came. I was mesmerized by the fact that the whole time she rode the circle around the cul-de-sac, not one time did she touch the handlebars. I watched a small bag flutter along her handlebars and then fall onto the ground as she had her face turned toward the sun...not once noticing that she had dropped her parcel. I knew what it was like to lose something, since she didn't stop for it..I'd guess I would. I started down from my place of solitude, hands pushed deep into the pockets of my jeans. About half way between the hill and the home, where I was leaving the sidewalk and entering the street, I spied the bag still lying near the edge of the curb. In one casual move, I gathered it up and continued my way to our front door. It felt as though something was inside, perhaps taking up enough room to become a worthwhile find, although it felt soft like it may be clothing of some sort. I kept scanning the street, looking for the girl to return to look for her package but to no avail, she never appeared to claim her bag. Unlocking the door to the house, I flopped onto the couch and carefully opened up the little plastic bag. I promptly upended it onto the couch, the contents rolling from it. Carefully unfolding the article of clothing, I was slightly shocked and embarrassed to realize what I held in my hand., "A bra?" I whispered aloud. The stretchy cups were folded so one was inside the other, between them was a receipt. "Someone isn't going to be happy when they get home and see that they lost their purchase," I said softly to myself. Carefully refolding it, I tossed it down on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen to get myself a soda. Mentally, I was trying to recall the girls who lived in the area that this item might actually belong to. Walking back into the room, I sat down the soda and reluctantly gathered it up again. Gently holding it by its straps, I allowed it to turn until I could make out the size. "32 B". I sat the can down and tossed the bra onto the table once again. As I sat staring, I realized that had the kindly couple not returned the necklace when they had, I more than likely would have possessed a very real need for one of these contraptions! I put a hand to my chest. "Flat. Just the way nature intended!" I said with a laugh to myself, refolding the undergarment and tossing it back into the bag. *** Evening eventually rolled around and found me lounging on my bed with my feet propped on the headboard. I was perusing through a magazine and kept being drawn back to an ad for custom t-shirts, modeled by a buxom young woman. The caption on the front was stretched between her feminine charms. I rolled onto my stomach and studied the photo with a fascination of a junkie in search of his fix. I looked at my clock, it was 8:57pm...for all intents purposes, I was in for the night and since it was Friday evening, I wouldn't be expected up by my father until noon. My eyes darted to the door of the closet. "No, dammit!" "What would it hurt?" I argued softly with myself. "I have enough time, no one will know." I reached out for the bag and stilled my hand. "This is stupid!" I said as I slowly retreated it away. I kicked the magazine from the bed and as it fell to the floor, it again opened to the ad that I had been studying. I swung my feet to the floor and pushed it with a toe, it flipped shut. I gave a short nervous laugh and got out of bed and shut off the overhead light. Now the room was bathed only in a soft light of the lamp on my desk, reaching out, I shut it off bathing the room in instant darkness. I threw my shorts off onto the floor, promptly followed them with my shirt. Kicking my fan on only for the noise, I stretched out on the bed and rolled to my side and studied a shaft of moonlight as it pierced into my room. The light struck the magazine and illuminated the glossy sheen that was on the cover. As the fan oscillated back into the center of the room, I watched as two or three pages were pushed by the breeze it caused once again revealing the girl with her t-shirt stretched to its limits. Again I felt like the proverbial junkie, my eyes darting between the package where it lay and the closed closet door. I felt as though I was drawn to that closet, pulled along like a speck of dust toward the sun. Before I realized what I was doing, I was standing in the middle of my room with the bra in one hand and the medallion spinning dangerously from my other. The hesitation was only a second or two; I realized that I had acted without thinking when I felt the tingle spread across my chest. The feeling startled me at first, but quickly I remembered that same feel so long ago. I was just a youngster then, barely in school. Now though, the changes would be more dramatic, and that truly scared the hell out of me. My mind flashed back quickly, deep recessed memories began bubbling forward into my consciousness, a reminder of the personal hell that my mother had served upon me. Back then though, I hardly noticed the changes until it pulled my male essence directly into my body..this change, could not be hidden so well. In abject fascination I watched my dime sized areola's slowly began to expand...penny sized, nickel, quarter, half dollar it continued until it stopped somewhere slightly larger than a half dollar. Then as if on cue, my nipple slowly began to grow outward. Pencil sized, at first only stopping until it reached a pinky size. I gently manipulated the skin, wonderment at seeing such a strange alien change to my body. Then each began to grow slightly, a tiny miniscule mound at first. As it grew outward, they started to take on a conical shape which slowly morphed into a bell like swell. I put down the medallion and the bra, holding my hand under the swell, it had passed an inch and was now approaching an inch and a half in distance out of my chest. As I stood in complete awe of what I was seeing, each continued to grow outward past two and approaching three inches away from my body. On my skinny frame, they could be nothing other than female breasts. I thought back to my mother, what child would remember his deceased mother's breast size...not I. I had never really thought of it before, now it was a little too late as they had begun to reach the size to draw and pull with mass, I could now definitely feel their weight. At this point, I realized that this was probably a stupid thing to do, and swallowed hard as a marked cleavage began to deepen, slowly the distance between them grew together. "Shit.." I sighed as I turned toward the mirror. "There is no way that these can be a 32 B!" I whispered softly as I looked into the mirror. "They must have been miss- marked...shit!" I knew enough that most likely they were going to be in the 34 range. My eyes were pulled toward my waist; somehow the medallion had worked slightly beyond my chest and also given me a very feminine, tapered waist. As this macabre morphing began to subside, I definitely had the upper profile of a very buxom girl. I picked up the bra and attempted to put it on, I felt that it would be more like sticking ten pounds of potatoes into a five pound bag. As I contemplated my situation, the cell phone on my dresser began to lighten up and buzz. I reached to answer it, the strange sway from these new unfettered appendages left much to be desired. I stood with the bra hanging from my hand as I tried to hide my stupidity, knowing that I have probably done the dumbest thing of my entire life. As I answered my phone, I found myself attempting to cover up so the person calling wouldn't be able to see...even though they couldn't possibly. "Hey, what's up?" I said, quickly gathering up and holding my t-shirt against my chest. "This sucks man, my sister has a sleep over and I'm stuck here with all these stupid girls!" the voice on the other end groused. "Girls in nighties..." I replied back, as I attempted pulling my t-shirt over my head and cover these new assets. "My sister is eight, you dork!" he shot back. "Hey, how about I come over and spend the night?" I looked down at the impossible vision I was seeing, the swelling of my chest beneath my shirt."Uh..nah, I can't have anyone over tonight." "Yeah, I guess...probably because of your cold?" "Cold?" I replied. "Yeah, your voice sounds funny. Sounds like you have a cold." He yawned in my ear as he was speaking. I looked down, the deep cleavage visible through the stretched neck hole, each side the creamy flesh tapered inward, lost in the deep recesses of the void between. "Oh, yes..I have a cold," I spoke, realizing that he gave me an excuse not to have a visitor. He sighed heavily. "Well...crap, I guess I'll just hole up in my bedroom, fire up the computer and play a few rounds of zombie hunter." "You do that buddy!" I replied as I accidentally ran my finger across the swollen nipple that stood out like a tiny sentential from my chest, the move caused me to shudder. "I'll talk at you later dude, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" As the phone went dead on his end I sat it back onto the dresser. "Too late..." I sighed, hefting the new weight of my breasts. *** I caught myself smiling as stopped and sat down on a stump, I was only half way down the hill...procrastinating on returning home too quickly. Inwardly, I was recalling the steps I took to experiment with once again being that girl that my mother tried so hard to trap me as. I recalled how hard I tried to enact those changes that would allow me to see what type of female I would have become. I took money that I had earned mowing grass and after a change or two, slipped into stores to make purchases that would push me further and further into that feminine world without changing me into a copy of some stranger. No, the changes I was after, would only be those as if I had been born that way. A few hours a week slowly morphed into full days when I was able to time the changes while my father was absent from the house. I got brave too, able to escape into town from time to time and make a few feminine purchases here or there, each one dedicated to making my ruse even more believable. I remember vividly when I took that final plunge and made that 'ultimate' change to make me 100% female...I had to have been dancing around that final stage for almost a full three months into it. I lay my book-bag on my lap and leaned over my elbows, remembering how fast the muscle memories came back to me...muscle memories that I had worked so hard to forget. I remember consciously making effort to not sit so feminine...not to gesture like a female...not to act like a girl. Sighing I pushed my hand through my hair and rubbed at my temples, it took only a matter of weeks to undo all of the sensory mapping that I had tried so desperately to hide. When I was Jeffery, everyone thought I was gay, when I was in my Jennifer mode, those I met thought I was sweet. But like that proverbial junkie, I kept going back to that damn necklace time and time again; and each time I did, I would sink further and further into my mother's trap. The summer of my junior year of high school, my father left for China on three weeks for business. I convinced him that I could stay at home and be alright. With a slight bit of trepidation, he relented and left for his trip. Determined to play the feminine role, I concocted a story with my friends about going with him...and my 'cousin' Jennifer was going to watch our house and collect our mail for us. My second night there, one of my 'Jeffrey' friends, Blaine stopped by for a visit, and invited me as 'Jennifer' to a party. Reluctantly, I agreed to go along. After drinking way too much there, Blane helped me into his car and drove me home...that evening, well into the night our kissing and cuddling got the best of me...and I...I lost my virginity. In a panic, for three days straight I tried to reverse the changes using the medallion, but to no such luck. Deep down from the research I had done, I knew it could only be one of two things, that I was beginning my period or that I was pregnant. I cried as each attempt to change failed. Blaine kept calling me on the house phone but I refused to answer, profusely embarrassed at what I might have done to myself. Not to mention that I had done the act with one of my best friends. The fourth morning I began to cramp and felt sick to my stomach, I thanked my lucky stars that it was the start of my first period and not a pregnancy that was preventing the changes. Thankfully, I had prepared for the possibility and had made the necessary purchases long ago to cover this very issue. By the time my father returned home, I had changed back, Jeffery was once again the prince of his castle. Papa was none the wiser, although if he had suspected something, he never let on. I had been so frightened from the 'pregnancy' possibility that I swore off using the necklace for almost six full months. But as summer turned into fall, I found myself once again becoming Jennifer. *** "This seat taken?" the deep voice asked, causing me to look up. "No." I replied and continued to read my book. I had found my way into the library; it was one place where they didn't ask me a lot of questions when I applied for my card. It felt exhilarating to have something with my 'other' identity on it. I glanced up quickly; the boy pulling the seat out beside me was huge. I imagined he was well over 6'5", and probably close to 260lbs. "The name is Tig, Tig Stonebreaker." He held out his hand. I looked from his hand back to him, carefully reaching out and grasped it. Some part of me felt that I could trust him...even though he dwarfed me in size; his grasp was firm but not too 'aggressive'. "Jennifer Taylor," I responded as I let his huge hand go and returned to turn a page of my book. "You new around here?" he asked, tipping his head so he could look at my face. "No, I'm not from here..I'm just visiting relatives," I replied without looking up, pushing my long hair over my shoulder. My father did not approve of me letting my hair grow out, eventually he relented because he thought I was just going through a rebellious stage. "So, you going to college here?" He asked as he began to thumb through a book he brought with him. "I'm still in high school. I'm a senior." I sighed and placed my bookmark back into the spine of my book. "And you?" "I'm a defensive tackle for the Manchester Spartans." He smiled broadly. Apparently he was proud of his accomplishment. "I'm a sophomore" "Congratulations on being a sophomore...but, I'm not a fan of football," I lied, hoping that he would just go away. He frowned and shrugged. "That's okay, my own mother hates the sport." I fought back a smile and continued to read. "So, would you like to come and see me play Saturday night?" I allowed my eyes to rise, staring intently at him for several seconds until I was sure he could see the grey of the iris. "Why would I want to watch a game that I don't like?" He smiled broadly, his straight white teeth practically illuminating the deep tan on his face. "Well...perhaps because I'm there?" I again fought through a smile. "If I didn't know any better Tig, I would think you were attempting to flirt with me." He placed a finger on his nose and raised his eyebrows. I couldn't help but to laugh aloud at his antic, several around us looked up from their studies. "Uh-oh...Looks like we woke up the geek squad," he said with a laugh. I leaned back into my chair and worked a hair tie from my wrist and began to put my hair back into a ponytail. "Can you say that any louder?" I shook my head and laughed. "You're going to get us kicked out of here." Not far away an older man leaned over a counter and cleared his throat. "Too late." I sighed. He stood up and pushed his chair in almost like a character, making faces as it ground against the tile flooring. "Come with me Jennifer Taylor, I'll buy you a scoop of Ice Cream." "Just one?" I replied pushing my chair in with my hip not caring whether I made noise or not. "After this, you probably owe me at least two." "Scoop's or cones?" he asked as he held the door for me to walk through. "Yes," I replied with a laugh. As we walked the short way to the Ice Cream parlor, I took note of him from my peripheral vision. He was very tall and extremely well built, I came only up to his chest..and he made two of me. We made our way to the ordering window. "Two cones please." He looked over at me. "New Orleans Praline and...What kind?" "Vanilla," I replied. He frowned. "Where's your sense of adventure, Jennifer Taylor?" "What can I say, this girl just likes Vanilla Ice Cream." I said with a laugh and watched as he was fishing out his money. "So...aren't you going to get any Ice Cream?" "I ordered mine...oh, I see..." He laughed as I took both from the girl behind the window. I took a nibble of the edge of his cone where the Ice Cream was about to fall off. I handed it to him and licked the Ice Cream from my lips and fingers. "Here, hold this one for me." "You sure, I just might eat it." He laughed and removed his cone from my outstretched hand. "So...you never answered me about watching my game Saturday night" He stood intently watching me lick my cone as it was starting to melt onto my hand. It was fall, but still early and the days had been warm. I took a lick and then a bite from the side of my scoop and he laughed. "What?" I asked. "Nothing." he said as he rolled his tongue over the side of his Ice Cream. I wasn't stupid; a boy is a boy is a boy. His weak little football mind was going right into the sewer watching me lick my cone. "So, how about it?" He again fished for the answer he wanted. I looked at him and paused from my Ice Cream. "How about what?" He purposefully crossed his eyes. "Auuuugh! Jennifer Taylor, you're killing me!" I laughed, again evading his question with another question. "Does your mother know that you, her college boy son, is talking to, and plying a high school girl with Ice Cream?" "Oh no..no..no. You have me wrong, Jennifer Taylor. The 'plying' comes much later." He made air quotes with his two fingers and what was left of his Ice Cream cone. "I did tell you that I don't like football," I reminded him. "Three times." He sighed and tipped his head to the side, opening up his big baby blues even wider. "Well, I suppose since I don't want to see a big guy cry...I'll attend your game." I smiled at him and leaned against a picnic table. "He smiled broadly and started to eat the cone, crunching it in his mouth. After several seconds he put his finger to his temple and closed his eyes tightly. "Ice Cream headache?" I asked as he nodded severely. "And they let you play an organized sport?" I said, giggling. He started laughing and mock crying at the same time. "Maybe you should eat a bit slower," I reminded him. "What's the fun in that?" He snickered as he slowly regained his composure. "So, are you what...seventeen or eighteen?" he asked, emphasizing the latter hopefully. "Does it matter?" I replied as I licked my dripping cone. "Only to my mother...and my coach," he replied with a mischievous smile. "I'm eighteen," I replied wiping my hand with a napkin. "And you?" "Twenty, almost twenty-one." He watched me toss my napkin into the trash nearest our table. "Does that scare you?" "Not really," I replied truthfully. "Soooo...you wouldn't be afraid to hang out with ahem...bigger guy?" He looked down sheepishly. I could tell that he had an issue with confidence around females. Which made it all the more funny since I was only one part of the time. "No, not really." I smiled. "I guess as long as he was good to me, I'd be just fine." He sat up straighter. "Jennifer Taylor, you never have to fear a thing when you are with me...ever." *** To say that I was mildly impressed with Tig's football prowess would be a huge understatement; I became a regular at all of his home games. We became the best of friends, always seen together; almost as though we were joined at the hip. He introduced me to his friends, but I still kept him at bay...I seemed to know much about him, and yet he knew absolutely nothing of me. Sadly, I was okay with that one sided relationship with this huge mountain of a man. Always the gentleman, not once did he try to force me into doing something I wasn't ready to do. Sure, I'd kissed him and cuddled with him on occasion, but nothing further occurred, and that is just the way I liked it. Our relationship took a uncomfortable change sometime during his Senior year of college. I had wrangled my way on campus as a commuter student the year prior, just as I had started my sophomore year. Tig's team, the Spartans were entering a bye week just after a hugely important game that they won. The next team they would face was a perennial bottom dweller, so the coach gave them the weekend off. Tig invited me to his parents home and even though my conscious told me to say 'no thank you', my heart wanted nothing more than to go. We drove for nearly twelve hours, through Chicago and on up into Wisconsin, almost thirty minutes due east of the Twin Cities we pulled down a long lane and he paused his car about half of the way between highway 'H' and a farm. "This is it, Jen." I sat up straighter and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "When you said you were a farm boy, I had always assumed that you meant corn and beans, I had no idea you were a dairy farmer." He smiled very proudly. "My family has been raising dairy herds for over a hundred years. Fresh country air is all I know, well...that and football." He smiled as I rolled my window down, allowing the crisp morning air to enter the car. Breathing deeply, I coughed, for what I was smelling, no flower could be blamed! After quickly rolling up my window, I fanned the smell from my face and buried my nose in the blanket that had been over my lap. Tig just laughed. "To some, the air around a farm smells like...well, like shit...but to my family, that's what money smells like." He snickered and continued down the lane, our tires crunching the gravel under their weight. "If that's what money smells like, I'm going to die a poor," I said from behind my blanket. "Given the right circumstances, you might change your mind." He smiled nervously as he glanced quickly toward me. Pulling into the farm, Tig stepped out and popped open the trunk. I was forced to wait until he could open up my door, since the passenger door wouldn't open from the inside. I sat quietly and looked up at the house; his mother came out drying her hands upon her apron. Tig opened my door. "My lady," he said offering me his hand; he helped me out of his dilapidated Oldsmobile. "Oh Tig, your farm is beautiful!" I said as I looked across the vast fields where the cows dotted the landscape. "There are two things that I love most about this place, and one of them is this farm," he said as he retrieved our bags and walked beside me toward the house. "And the other is?" I asked as his father came waddling toward us, well it wasn't actually a waddle but rather a limp. "Hey Tigger!" The older man laughed, then looked up toward the porch and shouted to his wife. "Come on down, Mother, Tigger has a young lady with him!" "Tigger?" I whispered with a laugh. "Watch it..Tigger's are fun you know." He smiled and as his parents approached, he sat down our bags and introduced his parents. "Jen, this is my father, Brian." I looked up at him, he was a good looking man and it left no doubt where Tig got his handsome looks and sheer size from. "Don't need to be formal, honey...just call me Papa." He shook my hand and glanced toward Tig. "She sure is powerfully tiny." "That's how they make em where she's from..." he replied as his mother finally caught up with us. "Oh it is, is it?" I replied as his mother gave me a hug. "Mother, this is Jennifer Taylor." She held me at arms distance and smiled. "Jennifer...always happy to be able and look someone in the eye around here. Seems everyone always towers over the women folk." She giggled and gave Tig a hug as well. "You can call me Mother, everyone else around here does." She took her hand and put it on her husband's arm. "The boy said her name was Jennifer, Papa." The older man smiled. "That's an excellent name." "Grandma Stonebreaker's name was Jennifer," Tig said as his parents ushered me onto their porch. "She was a wonderful woman." "Her given name was Jennifer but folks around that knew her called her Jenny." His father continued as he directed Tig and I to the porch swing. "Did you kids have breakfast yet?" "We're okay, Papa. We stopped in Menomonie for breakfast," Tig answered as he sat beside me, his arm resting along the length of the hand carved swing. The seat of the swing was almost too high; I could tell that it was set so the bigger men of this family could set comfortably. I had dangled my feet but they barely touched the surface of the porch, I ended up tucking them beside me on the seat and leaned into Tig with my hand on his muscular arm. A strange groan, sounding like a rusty spring being stretched caused all of us to look up; Tig's mother was backing out of the kitchen with a tray full of lemonade in glasses. After we each took one she balanced the tray on the porch rail and smiled. "Jen, you're doing the exact same thing I have to do when I sit on that swing...one of the perils of being short." I smiled, and took a sip of the very tart drink. His father slapped Tig on the knee and startled me. "So, you going to give Jennifer the grand tour?" "I suppose so...when she's rested up a bit," he spoke, gently rocking us by straightening his legs and bending them. "I'm plenty rested," I replied. "That's all I've been doing since Chicago." He smiled and quickly downed his drink. "Well, if you insist." He sat his glass on the rail and helped me to my feet. I tried to drink it down but the lemonade was just too tart, I was about to sit it down but Tig took it from me and finished what was left. "Thirsty?" I laughed. "Only when I'm nervous," he replied softly as he set down the glass. "Give her the grand treatment, take the Green Meany," his father said snickering. "Green Meany?" I asked as I was being ushered down the steps. "Papa's restored John Deere." He and I walked through the barnyard toward a pristine white building, as Tig swung the doors aside, I could just make out the front of an antique tractor. As the sunlight bathed the inside of the building, Tig made a singing sound like an Angel's chorus. "I love the yellow wheels. They're pretty!" I said as he ushered me to the side and out of the way. "Okay, break on, out of gear." He worked the shifter. "Choke on, set to run position." I watched as he grabbed a huge wheel on its side and gave it a quick turn. The movement brought the old tractor to life, but only for a moment. "This one will do it." Again he gave the thick wheel a quick spin and it began popping at first, the little rain flap on the muffler began to bounce. He quickly climbed onto the seat and began adjusting things as it began to run smoother; I stepped out into the yard and shielded my eyes from the sun. "Here, honey...you may need these." I thanked his father as he handed me two baseball hats, one had a logo for John Deere, the other a seed company. I put the seed company on my head and as Tig pulled outside the building where I waited until he stopped. Tig patted the fender beside him and his father helped me climb up. I pushed the hat down on Tig's head and giggled because it was the first time I saw him wear a hat other than his football helmet. "How's the gas?" he shouted to his father as he stepped back, away from the tractor. He never replied verbally, just gave us a thumbs up. He smiled and looked at me. "I guess we'll take that as a yes then." "You can put your feet here and here," he said as he pointed. I did as he requested, my left hand gripping the fender I was seated upon. Tig pushed a lever and the engine began to race faster. "Excited?" *** Excited, I had been terrified! I had never expected my relationship with Tig to be much more than friends, somehow though, I sensed that it was evolving right before my eyes! I knew it could someday come to this if I kept dabbling with that damn necklace, but for once in my life I was truly having fun and actually being accepted, albeit as my female self and not as I had been born. I meandered down the trail that I had been following and as I neared a small retention pond for the addition that my father and I lived in, I stopped and sat down upon a small bench that overlooked the water. I dropped my book bag to the grass and sat there, with my elbows on my knees. "Damn you Tig for putting me in this predicament with your stupid question!" I sulked and kicked at my bag with the toe of my shoe. "You had no right to ask me what you did!" I growled, slapping the seat of the bench. *** My mind returned to that day we were riding on the tractor, he smiled handsomely as he slowly began to exit down the lane from his parents barnyard. His father watching on, and me, grinning like a fool. "Should I take that as a yes?" he said with a laugh, his voice carrying over the 'put-put' of the tractor. As I was just about to answer him, he pushed open the throttle and the ancient tractor jumped to life and began to roll quickly... well, as quickly as a mid 1940's John Deere could. I became enthralled with the farm, far out into the distance there were cows dotting the field. Beyond them lay acre after acre of Corn almost dried and ready to harvest. We rolled slowly over a little bridge and he stopped on the other side, and turned down the throttle so I could hear him talk. "That field over there, with the drying sunflowers is my field." He pointed, and as I followed his finger he continued. "My folks gave 40 acres to me to do with as I want." "Sunflowers?" I asked, looking out at the sea of yellow drying flowers. "Why Sunflowers?" He shrugged and smiled. "I like em is all, it may be hard to believe but they're a pretty good seller." He sat up and flexed his back, trying to get more comfortable in the tractor seat. Subconsciously, I began to rub the small of his back with the heel of my hand. "I think they are real pretty when the flowers bloom. Each one of them follows the sun across the sky each and every day...it's a sight you have got to see some time." "Sounds pretty cool," I replied as I caught a wayward lock of hair and pushed it behind my ear. "It's very cool." He gave the throttle a slight push, released the clutch and we began to slowly roll, but he kept it low so we could talk. "It's where I plan on building my house someday, after I get married." "First thing you have to do is find the right girl." I laughed, teasing him. He smiled and guided the tractor to a small meadow near the river's edge, there he shut it off and climbed down. His huge hands encircled my waist and he lowered me to the ground in front of him. "You know, what you said about finding the right girl..." My stomach lurched; I could feel my knees weaken. "Y..Yeah..." I stammered. "I think I may have found her." He slowly leaned his head downward, and lifting my chin, kissed me deeply on my lips. Closing my eyes to the inevitable, I could feel my knees about to go. He caught me as I felt my body began to fall, scooping me into his powerful arms he carried me as if I were nothing more than a baby, to a nearby tree and sat me in the brightly colored leaves that had already began to collect there. "You okay?" he asked with concern. "I'll be fine, I think," I replied, and struggled to set up. Tig assisted me into a sitting position against the tree, all the while he kept his eyes focused on mine, and looking for a sign that I may have been concealing the reason I almost fainted. "You just rest here until you feel okay enough to stand." He held my hand and smiled. "Thanks Tig, but I'll be alright." I smiled and drew my knees up into my chest and watched a leaf float past, carried down the little creek's current. "It sure is a pretty spot, Tig." "It's my favorite place in the entire world." He grinned and knelt in the leaves beside me. "You just being here has made it all the better!" In the deafening silence that followed, I watched him slowly raise his hand up; in it he held a small box. Fear caught in my throat, I could feel my lip quivering. I turned away, knowing that I had gone too far with my ruse. I was determined to put a stop to Tig before we would both do something that we would regret. I realized once and for all that I had to return to Jeffrey and put Jennifer behind me forever! "Jennifer, will you marry me?" He smiled broadly as he opened the lid to reveal the glimmering diamond that was perched upon the golden band. I struggled to my feet, the smile he had on his face slowly disappeared. "Jen?" I stammered like a frightened child. "I...I need time to think." Tig slowly lowered the box and closed the lid; his face fell toward the carpet of leaves we were standing on. "I'll wait Jen, take all the time you need." *** I shook off that memory, upset at myself for tearing such a decent man's heart asunder. Tig kept his distance, trying to fulfill his word and give me the time he hoped I would need. I felt as though my life was confusing enough after what my own mother had done, but now...somehow I have added to the mess! I stared into the water for a long time. Angry or allowing myself to fall in love with Tig, and angry at him for making it too damn easy. I wiped my tears and slowly made my way toward the pond. Blame swept through my mind, blame for allowing this to go so far, after I had thought I had broken the hold my mother once had. I had contorted my own body into a shape that was a lie, how could I continue to hurt this kind and gentle giant of a man. That day in Wisconsin, I had determined that as soon as I had returned home, I would change back into the male I once was, and toss that damnable thing into the pond. Finally, here I stood at the water's edge, eyes filled with tears. I pulled the necklace from the pocket of my jeans, hefting the weight of it in my hand and closed my fist into a ball. With a heart-wrenching sob, I let it fly. My momentum carried me forward, until I was upon the ground. There I lay at the edge of the water upon the soft grass, my body wracked with sobs. Movement on the trail behind me caused me to raise my head. "Jeff? Are you okay?" I sat up and quickly wiped my tears. "I..I uh...rolled my ankle walking down to the pond." I quickly rubbed my ankle where I imagined pain would be, as carefully my father helped me to my feet. "Here son, set on the bench until you can put some weight on it." I sat there and slowly rotated my foot, trying to look as though I was attempting to loosen the ankle. "I'll be okay; it seems to only have been a minor sprain." "Wouldn't have thought that, by the way you were carrying on when I was coming up here to find you!" He rubbed his neck and looked at how the sun was dappling the leaves on the ground. "Care to talk about the real reason you've been carrying on?" I looked at him quickly. "Real reason?" He nodded, then tilted his head and looked me squarely in the eyes. "Since last fall, you have been acting about half nuts around the house. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure something was up." "I'm sorry." I tried to sound innocent but he was reading me like a book. "You've been using that necklace, haven't you?" He turned his face toward the sun and looked into the trees waiting for me to come clean. "How long have you been dabbling?" I slowly dropped my head and looked down. "Since October," I lied. "Sure Jeff...October of a couple of years ago." He rubbed my back with his hand. "It's okay son, I understand." "I just wanted to know how I would have looked if I would have grown up..as Jennifer," I blurted out as tears again began to cloud my vision. "I'm sure you're beautiful in your female form...but I'm guessing you might have taken it all a bit too far?" I nodded, pushing tears from my eyes. "Not the way you might be thinking. I...I fell in love." He fished his handkerchief out and handed it to me. "He or she?" "He..Tig, he asked me to marry him." I cried into his shoulder. "Did you answer him?" he asked as he hugged me a little tighter. "I can see why you are out here...it's a good place to think." He sighed and continued. "Jeff, look at me." He turned my head to face him. "Son or daughter, you are still the child I love deep down. If you're happy as a girl, so be it...be the best damn girl you can be!" I looked at him incredulously, if he had only been here ten minutes sooner. I began to cry severely, burying my face in the kerchief he gave me. "There, there child. If you want to be a girl, honey...you have my blessing! I just want to see you happy! It doesn't matter what form you have!" I cried harder, he hugged me and spoke softly. "I thought that would make you happy?" "It would have papa, but I threw the necklace into the pond!" I cried. "Maybe you have...then again, maybe you haven't," he replied and waited for me. I slowly lifted my head and gave him a curious look. He pointed upward; I followed his finger toward the branches of the tree. There in a tangle, the necklace hung, dangling just overhead. "Come on kid, lets get you taken care of." *** The day before our wedding, my father approached me and handed me an envelope. "What's this?" I asked, taking it from him. "Open it," he replied, taking a seat on the couch. "It's a birth certificate." I looked from it to him. "My old birth certificate?" "It's Jennifer's...your mother had it made long ago when you had been changed the first time." He pointed to the name listed on the front. "She had a letter notarized that said the wrong name had been on your old certificate. I don't know how she pulled it off, but..it looks as though you've been Jennifer all along." I studied the name on the front for several long seconds. "I know I should still hate her for what she had done...but if she hadn't, I never would have met Tig." "She was sick, honey...but she meant well." He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. "You all set for tomorrow?" I nodded and smiled. "Tomorrow, next week, next month..the rest of my life!" Slowly standing, I kissed my father on his cheek,? "I love you daddy!", and then set the envelope on the end table. "I love you too honey." His eyes glassed over with tears as he sat smiling, almost drinking up this day as a fleeting much cherished memory. I walked from the house and into our back yard; Tig was seated at our picnic table. He was watching me approach with a huge smile on his face. "God you're beautiful, like an angel to my eyes!" I sat down beside him and wrapped both my arms around one of his. "I'm only an angel for you, Tig...only for you!" He kissed me, our reflection was in the window of the house. Once again I thought of the girl in the mirror and realized, she was no longer alone. Not now, not ever! She smiled back at me, the sparkling diamond on her finger proved that true. The End.