Irish Eyes – Chapter Five

 

Welcome.

Cael stared at the blue and green swirls on her monitor, waiting for her computer to finish booting up. The PC was top of the line and way more than she ever needed, but her father had surprised her with it for getting a Scholar Athlete award the previous semester. All it was to her was something to do homework on, talk to friends and look at pictures of LOLCats. Really, she could have gotten by with a much cheaper model. None of this was currently at the forefront of her thoughts, however. It had only been two days since her father died and left her stuck in a body that was entirely alien to her. As a man in the prime of his youth, she of course had been fascinated to no ends by the female form just a week ago, but now that one stared back at her in the mirror everything was different. She was a frightened virgin again, nervous about what she would see underneath the thin layers of fabric. There were, of course, parts of her body that were constant reminders of what she would find, but she preferred to not think about it. Her body disgusted her, thus she still wore the same t-shirt and shorts that she had put on days earlier to talk with her mother. That conversation was still fresh in her memory and was the reason why she had started isolating herself.

Curiosity and a lack of human contact, however, drove her online. She wondered if there were other suffering like she was, trapped in the wrong body and tortured by the fact that there was nothing they could do to change it. She might have had a solution to her own problem in mind, but with an ocean between her and that answer, she might as well not have had one at all.

The screen finished loading and her instant messaging program popped up. She had it set up to sign on as soon as she turned her computer on, as normally she was more than willing to have a back and forth with one of her friends. Today was a little different. Even through the impersonality of the internet, she was not ready to talk to them. She thought maybe in the weeks to come, she could use this as a source to stay in touch without them having to see her, but she knew it was impractical to avoid them forever. Apparently, they were already quite aware of her absence, as indicated by her offline messages.

 

Y! Offline Messages _ □ X

Name Message

BrookeLynnBabe Where are you? Please Call.

JLawCenterField We still going out this weekend, bro?

BrookeLynnBabe I’m so sorry about your dad. Please let…

BrookeLynnBabe You’re worrying me, Cael.

WickedTripoftheWestin Call Brooke. She is worried about you.

 

She quickly hit the X and sighed after reading the first couple. She had a feeling that her phone would be the same way, full of missed voice mails and text messages from her friends. It had not been on since day one of her feminine fiasco. Research did not go much better. Most of the results were medical or psychiatric websites talking about transgendered people and the process of their transition. Such real world examples were not much help to Cael. She no longer belonged to the same world as the rest of them where magic was just something you found in Harry Potter. What little kinship she found did not make her feel any better though. She understood the desire to be the opposite gender completely now, but the options left open to the community were not anything she would ever consider. Surgery was incomplete, the same as getting any other elective procedure. Sure, she might have been physically changed, but deep down she would know that she was not really a man. Her tiny bit of compassion was mixed with feelings that the people that decided on surgery were lost causes. The search was going nowhere, leading her to refine it and add the word magic to her search string.

More results, more disappointment—it seemed as if she was the only one in the world that had ever literally swapped genders. The idiots on these message boards certainly had no idea what it would be like. The most common response as to what they would do if they woke up as the opposite gender was that they would spend all day in bed exploring their new bodies. Some even took the idea a step further and included camera work in their ideas. She wished they could experience the sense of loss and the feeling that the world was out to get them like she was. She could not imagine anybody wanting to do anything other than cry, or perhaps something even more irrational. Cael could definitely see how such irrational responses would be possible if she did not have the support of her mother, or if she did not know how she had come to be this way. She had hope, but there was only a glimmer of it.

She yawned and gazed back toward the crumpled sheets of her bed. Sleep was something that was hard to come by these days. No matter what position she lay in, there was the distraction of extra weight on her chest. The two mounds of flesh were not big by any measure of the definition. She would say they were slightly below average size even, if asked about it. Still, they seemed to get in the way of everything she did, making her toss and turn all night long. Bed remained an inviting destination, however. After coming up empty handed and slightly pissed off from her forays into the web, curling up under her sheets sounded like the perfect way to spend the day.

A knock on her bedroom door put a halt to her retreat under the covers. It was time for her mother’s daily visit to make sure she was feeling all right. To say that she had been treating her mother coldly would be an understatement. She was downright frigid on a level that would have brought on another Ice Age. Her mother did not understand the concept of needing time to one’s self and thus was met with a mixture of the silent treatment and one word noncommittal answers. Today’s exchange would not be much different. Her mom would come in and ask her how she was doing, if there was anything that she could get for her, what she wanted for supper, and any number of other similar mom questions and Cael would just blow her off and fend for herself like she had to this point.

The door slowly opened and her mother stepped in, looking as put together as she always was. It was a testament to her mother’s resolve that she managed to get made up even during the heart of such a serious matter. Few women were as womanly as the one that raised her. Her look was one of disappointment at seeing her daughter in the same condition for a third day in a row. Cael’s hair was a mess of tangles, there was a hint of stubble on her legs and her skin had lost its lustre, now looking pasty. She was not a pretty sight, but Gwen knew that she could be.

“Cael, I know you’re having a hard time with being a girl, but you have to take a shower and change your clothes on occasion.” Gwen said sadly. “Look at your hair, it needs to be washed and have a brush run through it. Oh, and let’s not forget that you’re starting to stink. We might not sweat as much as men do, but we still need to maintain basic hygiene.”

“It’s we now, is it? Just like that, I’m a girl in your mind. Do you understand what a traumatic experience it was the first time I had to urinate?” Cael’s tone was harsh as she sat on the bed with her royal blue covers pulled back. “There’s a good chance I’ll have a mental break if I have to see myself fully again.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. You know that’s not what I meant.” Gwen replied in a frustrated way. “Listen, sometimes we have to do hard things in life. My guess is that being comfortable enough in your body so you can function like a regular human being is going to be one of those things. However, it’s something that I need you to attempt before your father’s funeral. The wake is only two days from now and we are going to have a ton of people here in the house. I need you to look presentable.”

“I don’t have a father, so why should I care about his funeral?” Cael shot back.

“Cael…”

Two days had given Cael a lot of time to think about her father. The small part of her that still respected the man and held him up on a pedestal was swallowed whole by loathing hatred for putting her through this horror. His death being responsible for her change was one thing, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized what a selfish bastard he was. She might not have wanted to be a girl her whole life, but she should have been. His behavior twenty-one years ago was the direct cause of her suffering now. Even if she was willing to accept his mistakes, she was beginning to doubt that he cared for her at all. The thought entered her mind that he was not proud of her accomplishments because she had achieved them, rather he was proud of himself for creating a son that was able to reach such heights. Her father’s hubris grated her enough that she pulled him down off his pedestal and was starting to examine every fond memory she ever had of the man. Was any of that even real?

“Can we please not talk about him? I’m sure that’s not the only reason you came in here.”

“No, I guess not.” Gwen stared at Cael, ashamed of herself for letting her memory of her father become tainted. The topic would need to come up again, but she could handle changing the subject for now. “I’m not sure if you want to talk about this either, but… Brooke stopped by today.”

“What did she want?” Cael asked, showing little emotion.

“She wanted to see you, what do you think she wanted? She’s really worried about you. I told her that you were asleep and not ready for visitors, but I think she could sense that I was lying. She probably thinks that I’m trying to keep you two apart now.” Gwen relayed. “She’s going to be at the wake, Cael. I think that Jimmy and Trip are too. We both knew that this would be something we would have to deal with early on, so I think we need to be prepared. This really sucks, because of all your girlfriends, Brooke was my favorite. She’s a nice girl that doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. I just don’t see any other way right now.”

“Do you think I know what to do? I want to see them, I really do, but how can I like this? Either I tell them and sound crazy, or I don’t and they think I disappeared. Nothing good is going to come from either scenario.”

“We are going to have to tell people something though, dear. There are going to be a lot of people wondering where you are. We have to come up with an excuse for your whereabouts as well as explain who the new girl living in your room is.”

“Well, it’s not like we can tell them that I’m my cousin visiting from out of town or something. Face it, there is no explanation that anybody is going to buy. Just tell them that I ran away and hope that nobody thinks that you murdered your family.” Cael said with a straight face, despite how morbid the comment was.

“We can do better than that. Please, just think about it, okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Is that all you wanted?”

“Yes, well…” Gwen paused for a moment. “No, but you said that you didn’t want to talk about it, so…”

Cael grimaced. There was more talk about the funeral coming. She wanted nothing to do with it, but from her mother’s tone, she suspected that she would just come back later to disturb her again. Dread filled her heart at the thought of a swarm of problems all culminating at the wake, but as much as she wanted to, she could not avoid it. She could only survive it, and if she was going to do so she was going to need as much time to mentally prepare as possible. Repeated annoyances from her mother were not an option.

“Just tell me what it is.”

Sheepishly, Gwen produced a cloth measuring tape that she had wadded up in her palm during their talk. Cael was immediately wary of it and gave Gwen an incredulous look. Gwen knew that it was something that needed to be done. She knew her daughter could not go through life wearing her old clothes, not with the way they fit her. An excuse and an opportunity was there and Gwen needed to cease it.

“Please hear me out. We need to take your measurements. I know you’re adamant about not going to the funeral, but we’re holding the wake at our house. You need something nice to wear. Before you object, I’m not suggesting a dress or anything like that.” She took a deep breath. “I think a nice shirt and some slacks will do fine, along with a new pair of shoes. I would love if you would come shopping with me to pick everything out, but I doubt you’re ready for a mother/daughter shopping trip.”

“You’ve got that right.” Cael asserted while thinking that she would have to be dragged out of the door screaming to ever participate in such an event.

“Well, then I need your sizes. I promise that it will be painless.” Gwen looked at Cael hopefully, waiting to get an answer from her child.

Cael’s breath came out heavy, sounding as if she had just agreed to the most disagreeable thing one could imagine.

“Get it over with.”

“Really? You’re going to let me?” Gwen seemed legitimately shocked.

“Yes, but hurry up before I change my mind.”

Gwen quickly went to work, prompting her daughter to stand and stretch her arms out in a T-shape, which the girl surprisingly did with little complaint. She stretched the thin piece of fabric out and took all the measurements she needed. She was impressed to see that Cael came in just under five-foot nine when she checked her height. She wanted to take the most harmless measures first to ease her into the process. She took a foot measure next, hoping that she could find a pair of shoes that would fit Cael without her having to try them on. Gwen manipulated Cael’s body to make sure she got what she needed. Hips and waist soon followed, still without much squirming from her daughter. Cael did not start to look uncomfortable until the tape was wrapped around her bust. Gwen had suspicions that Cael was on to her when she took more than one measurement in the area. Neither one of them said anything, but there was a lot of uncomfortable silence and glaring from Cael’s end that led Gwen to believe she knew what the additional numbers were needed for. When it was all over, Cael adjusted her shirt, making sure that it covered her like a blanket once more.

“Are you done? Can I take my nap now?”

“Yes, we’re done sweetie. Thank you for being such a good sport.” Gwen kissed Cael on the cheek, despite the girl’s attempts to avoid it and then left the room quietly, knowing that Cael still needed time. She just hoped that there would be enough improvement in a couple of days so that her child could properly say goodbye to her father.

 

***

They arrived innocently enough, dropped off by her mother while Cael was engrossed in an afternoon of Around the Horn and PTI, but there was still something intimidating about the new clothing that was so neatly folded and left on her bed. Black, all black—it was a color that looked good on everybody and the staple of all funeral wear. So, it was not the color that Cael took issue with, nor was it what was bought for her. By all accounts, there was a perfectly ordinary black dress shirt, black slacks and loafers sitting in front of her. There was also a package of boxer shorts in the proper size. If there was one thing to be thankful for it was that her mother did not elect to buy her female undergarments. The only thing that she could even slightly complain about was that the loafers had a square rubber heel that was about an inch high, though it was difficult to tell if they were really more raised up than anything she had worn as a man. All that remained was their size, which was perfectly tailored for her new body. It made her feel small, even when she was nowhere close to being that. She was still taller than her mother after all, but the label on the shirt still had S/M written on it. As a guy, she had never been small or medium, she was always large or extra large with a bit of tall thrown in for good measure.

She held the shirt up against her chest, wondering if it was a shirt or a blouse. It certainly looked like her usual dress shirts, but the fact that she was a girl now could have meant it was a blouse. She was unsure what the difference was. She took note that the shirt at least looked to be the right size. She was resolved to check with each item though, slipping one of the shoes on her daintier foot. Now that she was a girl, did that mean that she would need to have forty pairs of shoes? She stared long and hard at the way it rested on her foot and then kicked it across the room in frustration when she noticed how shapely her legs looked. Her whirlwind of trying everything on without actually trying them on ended with the new clothes strewn across the room. Her mother had done a good job finding the right sizes, but after looking at the label on her shirt, she did not want to know what size the other items were. It was better to keep that a mystery. If she really needed clothing, she was sure that her mom would go buy them for her.

She collapsed back on her bed and gazed up at her grey ceiling. It seemed like even the color of the paint in her room was mocking her these days. Grey was the perfect color to describe her life, which had slipped into the grayest area of them all. Idle time was starting to kill her. None of the thoughts she had during alone time comforted her. They usually made things worse. Quickly, she tried to find something else to occupy her mind before she had another surge of unwanted emotion. All she could replace it with though were thoughts about how drab her room was. It looked practically unlived in, like a room that was set up in a display home. Her bed sheets were as grey as the walls; the comforter was a mix of the same grey with navy blue thrown into the mix. She did not have the posters of half naked women that you would expect from a room that she had slept in as a teenage boy.

In fact, the only bits of flair were the many ribbons and trophies that she had won over the years. Those, of course, were displayed proudly for everybody to see. How could this militaristic room be hers? She was more than her accomplishments, so why had she never decorated her room to show off her personality? She was not bland and boring and this was not her bedroom at all. It was a trophy case, more precisely, her father’s trophy case, and she was the centerpiece of it. Her blood boiled as she lifted the golden cup trophy she had received for being MVP of her league when she was thirteen. She vividly remembered bringing it home and showing it to her father. What she could not remember though was receiving any sort of congratulations for winning it. There was no hug, no pat on the back, no ruffling of her hair or a “good job son”. He had plucked it from her hand, admired it and then told her to make sure she put it in a place of prominence so that everybody could see.

Her knuckles turned white as her fist tightened around the narrow base and then she erupted. The trophy smashed against the far wall, showing just how cheaply it was actually made as it broke into several pieces. Rage took over and Cael took it out on every award she had ever won. Little golden men holding baseball bats or gloves went flying into the air, freed from their base by the girl’s tantrum. Blue ribbons were torn in half and then tossed to the ground. Soon there was little left on her shelves and debris scattered across her carpet. One of the last things on the shelves was a baseball, held in a plastic case as if it was a trophy, but it was the single item she had on display that was not. It was a foul ball that she caught at a game her father had taken her to. It represented one of the best memories of her life, so when it soared into the full length mirror behind her door, her fond memories of the man shattered along with the glass.

It was a cathartic release that brought Gwen running to her aid. Cael was down on her knees in the middle of the room with the casualties of her outburst spread out around her. Vast streams of tears poured down her cheeks as she cried silently. Gwen immediately rushed to her daughter’s side and pulled the girl into a tight hug, which broke Cael’s silence.

“I hate him! I hate him so much! Why did he do this to me, Mom? Why did he have to ruin my life?”

Gwen squeezed Cael tighter and her sobbing child appreciatively hugged back. Gwen kept her voice low and soothing as she rubbed her baby girl’s back.

“I know you do, sweetie. Just let it all out. Cry as much as you need to.”

Cael did just as her mother instructed. She shed her tears long into the night until she felt numb and could muster them no more and Gwen stayed by her side the whole time, cradling her in her arms, allowing her the release she needed. She had known this was coming since the moment she told her daughter of her father’s past crimes and then his death. This was something that Cael needed more than anything else right now. Cael’s sobbing ceased with a sniffle. One moment she had stopped and the next she was looking into her mother’s warm eyes, searching for an answer.

“He’s really gone, isn’t he?” Cael asked in a hushed tone.

“Yes, he really is.” Gwen responded, giving her daughter one more comforting hug.

Nothing more needed to be said between the two women. Cael cleaned the remaining tears from her face and the two of them quietly picked up all the broken shards of glass and plastic left from the rampage. Cael’s own mind was for once blank as well, save for one thought. Her father’s wake was tomorrow.

 

***

 

Cael slumped over on the lid of the toilet seat, trying to wake up. After the toll the night before took on her body, she had managed a good night’s sleep for once, but it had been interrupted early that morning by her mother insisting that she get ready before guests started to arrive. It was eight in the morning. With the event scheduled for noon, there was no reason why she should need to get up so early. Well, that was not true. Cael’s stubbornness to adapt was the reason why her mother made sure to get her up bright and early. The woman would not take no for an answer either and had used Cael’s groggy state to her advantage so she could usher her into the bathroom. She vowed to sit outside of the room too until Cael took a shower. Cael knew that she could use one too. She could feel the layer of filth that covered her skin and would have loved to remove it, but it went against her vow to not allow herself to see herself naked again. The pitter patter of the water against the bathtub beat in a steady hum, which nearly drowned out her mother’s frequent calls from outside the door telling her that it was like ripping off a Band-Aid, or that she was wasting hot water. She was right on both accounts, but the initial pull was what had Cael worried.

Cael weighed her options. She could try to make a break for it, lock her bedroom door and hope that she could avoid everyone all day or she could act like a man for once and just do it. She thought deeply on the second option, trying to figure out a way that she could shower without seeing or touching too much. Closing her eyes solved one half of the equation, and with the bathroom mirror quickly fogging up, she would not have to see herself even after it was over. The touching was another thing. Would a washrag or the bar of soap be enough of a barrier between her hand and her new body? She cursed herself for making this all more difficult than it needed to be. It was all just skin, was it not? That was the way she needed to look at it. If she went fast, it would just feel like any other skin on her body.

“Fuck it.” She muttered and stood from her throne.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and then tossed her oversized Cardinals t-shirt to the floor. She removed her shorts next and made sure not to spend any time dwelling on the fact that she was naked before she stepped into the shower. “Don’t think about it,” became her mantra as the warm water splattered against her chest and face. It had already started to get cold, prompting her to reach for the faucet and turn the heat up as far as it would go. The scalding feeling of the hot water relaxed her enough that she stuck her head under the shower head and let it careen through her long locks. Muscle memory reminded her where her two-in-one was located. She took a healthy dollop and lathered it into her hair, her mantra saving her from thinking about how much of it there was. Rinsing it out took a little longer as she had to manipulate her hair to get it all out. She slid a few strands between her fingers and got the satisfying squeak that let her know that it was clean.

There was no hesitation as she grabbed the bar of soap from the ledge and as long as she went fast, there would be no reason to be disturbed by what she was about to do. When she started, she quickly realized that there was nothing glorious about it. She was able to wash her chest without incident and other than finding the tuft of hair between her legs a bit unruly, the entire process was completely painless. The shower was not the grand event she had been dreading. It was just a shower, something she did every day of her life. It was definitely no life changing experience. The only thing she took away from it was that she did not like the feel of stubble on her legs and underneath her arms for the same reasons that she did not like it on her face. She was not quite resolved to do anything about it, but she was aware of it.

Still, she dried off in as rapid a fashion as she could manage, not sure that the towel did a particularly good job on her hair, which unlike her legs, she did resolve to do something about. It was only long enough to go a little past her shoulders, but it was still more than she wanted to take care of, which meant that a haircut was in order as soon as she was ready to go out again.

Gwen was waiting for her when she exited, just like she promised she would be. She had a broad smile on her face, proud of Cael for overcoming this hurdle.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it? I can help you brush and dry your hair if you like.”

Cael shrugged. Her revelations about how mundane taking a shower really was left her finding her mother’s desire to give her a medal for doing it rather silly. She walked right by and headed for her bedroom, her clothing clinging to her in a few places that were still damp.

“It was just a shower, and if you want to help, feel free. I’m going to cut most of it off anyway.”

Gwen pouted a little, though not so Cael could see it. Her daughter had lovely hair and she had hoped that she would keep it long, but then again she was projecting her own longing for a typical mother-daughter relationship on to Cael. She had to take a step back and allow the girl room to breathe, even if she had a tough time doing so. She sincerely hoped that Cael would not freak out when she saw the little present she left for her with her clothes.

Next to her once again folded dress clothes waiting for her on her bed was a bag—the paper kind that they usually give you at clothing stores in the mall. She turned and questioned her mother about the waiting present before she even attempted to look inside.

“I didn’t want to give you this until you had a shower and I was sure that you were planning on making an appearance at the funeral because I was worried about how you might react.” Gwen stated. “Now, what’s inside is merely an option, but I really want you to consider it.”

Cael looked inside and the first thought that came to mind was that her mother had gone insane. She lifted out the article with one finger, holding it in front of her like it was a snake ready to strike. A black bra dangled from the finger by one of its straps. Rather than explode at her mother’s temerity, she just glared at her.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not. There’s a reason why we wear those things and it’s not to look more appealing to men like some feminists would like you to believe. It covers and supports and once you get over the stigma of wearing it, I think you’ll find yourself to be a lot more comfortable wearing one.” She explained. “Like I said though, it is just an option. I also bought you an undershirt if you don’t want to wear it. You do need something to wear underneath your top though.”

Cael groaned and let the garment slip from her finger and onto her bed. Since her mother was kind enough to give her a more sensible option, she decided not to make an issue of it. The woman’s insistence to help her with every little thing was getting on her nerves, but for the most part she was still treating her fairly.

“Go get the shirt.”

 

***

 

“Who do you really think that girl is?” Cael’s Aunt Stephanie asked Cynthia Westin.

Stephanie looked a lot like her sister, Gwen, but did not have the same youthful figure. Her frame was reminiscent of a plus-sized model in that it carried a little bit extra weight, but still managed to look good. Other than being a few dress sizes larger though, she could have been the spitting image of her sister. Her curled hair was just as dark as both Gwen and Cael’s and her slate colored eyes were somewhere between Cael’s blues and Gwen’s deep browns. She was a few years younger than Gwen, but the two had a sisterly bond that still survived today. Cynthia, of course, was Trip’s mother and had been Gwen’s best friend since Trip and Cael were in kindergarten. She was short like her son and had the same thin dirty blonde hair. Both women were dressed in black dresses, but then they were at a wake.

“I don’t know, Gwen said that she was a friend of Cael’s, but I’ve never seen her before.” Cynthia replied.

“Yeah, she told me the same thing, but I felt like she was brushing me off when she told me. I mean, I was here early and that girl was already here when I arrived. I’ve seen her walking around all day and yet I haven’t seen Cael once.”

Stephanie took a drink from the wine glass in her hand as her and Cynthia stared across the room. Cael, who was the girl in question, sat on a couch next to a little girl with red hair that looked to be about ten or eleven years old. From the look on Cael’s face, it was clear that the girl was peppering her with questions. Stephanie and Cynthia both turned their heads away with a hint of embarrassment when the little girl pointed in their direction. Neither one wanted to get caught staring or have Gwen find out that they had been gossiping. Cynthia cleared her throat, peering out of the corner of her eye to see if Cael and the little girl were looking away again.

“You know, I haven’t seen Cael at all either. Trip said that he’s been ignoring his calls and e-mails all week too. Gwen said that he wasn’t feeling up to company, but I can’t believe that he would just sit in his room all day at his own father’s wake.”

“I thought the same thing. I even went and knocked on his door and nothing. The door was locked, but this girl is what really gets me. You know, I wouldn’t think anything of it if it weren’t for the way she looks.” Stephanie commented. “I’m sure you can see it. She looks like a younger version of Gwen and apparently her name is Caitlin. That’s the name that Gwen had picked out for Cael if he was born a girl. There’s something going on and I don’t like it.”

“She does. Other than the blue eyes, she definitely looks a lot like Gwen did when I first met her. Have you talked to this girl yet?” Cynthia asked.

“No, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it until I talk to a few more people. I’d like to see what Gwen’s telling everybody else and I’d like to talk to Cael’s friends first too. I would think they would know her if she’s really Cael’s friend.”

“When Trip gets here, I’ll make sure to ask.”

Cynthia and Stephanie could not help but watch Cael as they sipped their wine. They knew that there was more to the girl bearing a family resemblance than they were told, but they did not want to take the next step as to speculate what. All that mattered was that they suspected Gwen of lying to both her sister and her best friend, which meant that whatever the secret was, it was big. Their leery glances did not go unnoticed either. Cael could feel their eyes on her and was already second guessing her decision to actually attend the wake. She knew that everything would only get worse from here, especially since her father’s side of the family seemed to be a little more in the loop than her mother’s. At the moment, she was stuck entertaining Emma, who was Michael’s cousin’s daughter. The little girl was dressed in a black dress with white polka dots on it, white footed tights and a pair of Mary Janes.

“See! I told you they were staring at you!” Emma declared.

“Yes, thank you, Emma. You were right. Can we please talk about something else now?” Cael pleaded.

“We can talk about you being a girl again. You totally blew me off before! I don’t know why I have to call you Caitlin instead of Cael. That’s so stupid.”

“You have to because my mom says you do.” Cael insisted. “Listen, you’re not even supposed to know about me in the first place. I don’t know who’s been going around telling everyone about what happened, but it’s just going to cause problems. So if anybody else asks, don’t tell them who I really am, okay?”

“Fine, but only if you tell me what being a girl is like.” Emma demanded.

“You know what being a girl is like. You are one.”

“Duh, I’m not stupid. I meant, what’s it feel like since you haven’t always been one?”

Cael grunted, not wanting to share with the girl as it just reminded far too much of her new reality, but talking to Emma seemed like a far better prospect than talking to any of the other people at the wake. It was awkward trying to talk to somebody that she had known for years and having to pretend like it was the first time that she met them. On top of that, she did not like that her mother was making her introduce herself as Caitlin. Each and every time she had to pretend to be somebody that she was not, it killed her inside. It was not just like acting as her mom had asserted. It was a mild form of personality death. If it was not for the fact that she saw most of these people only once or twice a year, she would have had a much harder time lying to them. She was already dreading the prospect of talking to anybody that knew her far better whilst telling them that she was some girl named Caitlin. Thus, Emma became the perfect choice for someone to talk to, as long as the girl did not go blabbing to everybody within ear shot.

“Okay, think of it like everything in the world being backwards. There are the obvious things like the buttons being on the other side of your shirt. I didn’t learn that myself until this morning. Then there are not so obvious things like being more careful when you’re getting dressed.” Cael explained. “For instance, as a guy, I would have just thrown this shirt on without thinking, but as a girl, you have to worry about making sure that nothing is exposed. Even just walking around feels a lot different. I’m sure you’ll notice the difference when you go through puberty. I imagine that’s sort of what this is all like.”

“I’ve already started puberty.” Emma divulged.

“Yeah, I did not need to know that.” Cael seemed a little disturbed at the little girl’s lack of hesitation in telling her something like that. Is that how girls talked with one another, or did this particular girl just have no tact? She seriously hoped it was the latter, because she did not want to know the intimate details of others’ lives.

“You shouldn’t be so sad, Cael.” Emma said after a long pause. “You’re very pretty as a girl. You could have it much worse. The fairies could have turned you into a newt or something. I hope that I’m as pretty as you are when I grow up.”

“Um, thanks.” Cael mumbled, surprised that her cheeks felt a bit warm from the compliment. “I’m sure that you’ll be much prettier than I am when you’re older. I am a guy, after all.” She asserted. “Besides, if they turned me into a newt, I would have gotten better.”

Cael tried to crack a smile, but it still seemed forced and she should not have expected an eleven-year old girl to catch a Monty Python reference. She scanned the room silently for a moment as they reached another pause in their talk. Cael did not break the silence until she had a request for the little girl.

“Say, can you do a favor for me? Can you go ask your mom and dad who told them about me changing into a girl? I’d really like to know where this rumor started.”

Emma nodded, accepting the quest and then rushed off into the crowd. Cael suspected that after today, she would never see the girl again. There were few members of her father’s family that she knew well, so she could not see herself going to any family functions on that side of the family without her father around. Left alone once again, Cael thought about retreating to her bedroom. She was wasting her time at a family get together where almost nobody knew who she was. Her mother wanted her there and that was the only reason she had not ducked into the darkest corner of the house by now. She splayed her legs out and slumped down on the couch, sitting in the most unladylike way possible, but she did not know any better and there was nobody there to correct her. She was still sitting in that position when she heard pounding coming from the back of the house as well as Brooke’s voice.

“Cael, this is getting ridiculous!” Brooke shouted at the door, knocking repeatedly on it with the palm of her hand. “I get that you’re sad and all, but I’m your girlfriend. You’re supposed to let me be there for you at times like this.”

The dead silence she got in response frustrated Brooke. Cael should have at least been polite enough to tell them to go away, but the silent treatment he had been giving her and everybody else for a week was fraying away Brooke’s patience. She wanted a reply—any at all would do. The slightest hint that Cael was there and that he just wanted to be alone would be fine, but she needed to be told by him. Cael’s mother had tried to tell her that very thing a few days earlier and again when she showed up today, but it felt like Mrs. Foley was trying to get rid of her rather than protect her son. Why was he doing this to her? It was so unlike Cael and did not fit their relationship at all to that point. There were times when she was accused of seeing too much of him, so it was odd for him to completely drop off the face of the Earth.

“Please, just say something! Grunt, make a noise, tell me to go away, I don’t care. I can’t stand the silence, though.” She pleaded, not aware that she was talking to an empty room.

Trip squeezed Brooke’s shoulder.

“Forget it, Brooke. It doesn’t look like he’s going to answer.”

“I just don’t get it, Trip. He’s never shut me out like this before. Sure, he’s never been the most open about his feelings, but I’ve always been able to tell when something was bothering him because he always let me stay by his side.” Brooke slumped against the locked door. “I mean, even after the accident he was talking to me. He was upset then and he didn’t shut me out. Mr. Foley dying shouldn’t have changed things that much.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t get what a good thing he has with you. We’ll try again tomorrow at the funeral. There’s no place for him to hide there.” Trip suggested, putting an arm around Brooke and leading her away from Cael’s door. “Come on, we can go as soon as we say hi to my mom and collect Jimmy.”

Cynthia Westin was waiting for Trip at the end of the hall. She and about everybody else in the house heard Brooke’s rather loud pleas for Cael to come out of his room. All eyes were on the distraught girl as she was whisked away by Cynthia. Brooke and Trip stood, cornered by Trip’s mother, looking as if they had seen better days. Brooke was on the verge of tears and would have broken down if she had not spent most of them the week prior in the privacy of her bedroom.

“Are you all right, dear?” Cynthia questioned Brooke, though she was only doing so to be polite.

“Not really, but Trip’s been there for me this week. Do you know that he spent three hours with me on the phone the other night after I came to visit Cael and Mrs. Foley wouldn’t let me past the front door?” She asked. “You’ve raised a great son, Mrs. Westin.”

“Oh, is that so?” Cynthia gave Trip an inquisitive look, which was met with a shrug of his shoulders. “Well, it’s good to know that he’s so loyal to his friends. I’m sorry that you couldn’t get Cael to listen to you. His Aunt Stephanie tried earlier too and got the same result. Speaking of which, I need to ask you two something.”

“Okay.” Brooke replied.

“Did you two see a girl about your age with long dark brown hair when you walked in? She was wearing black pants and a long-sleeved black shirt and looked like she was perpetually self-conscious. I’d point her out, but I can’t seem to find her at the moment.”

“Yeah, we saw her. She was sitting on the couch over there, talking to a little redheaded girl.” Trip answered. “Jimmy thought that she was cute and went to talk to her. Why, are you looking for her?”

“No, not really, so… you don’t know her then?”

“Nope, we just assumed she was a cousin or something. She looks like she’s from Mrs. Foley’s side of the family.” Brooke responded. “Who is she that you’re so interested?”

“It’s not important.” Mrs. Westin said dismissively and then walked away as if that was the end of the conversation.

“That was odd. Is your mother always like that?”

“No, only when she has something on her mind.” Trip answered. “Come on, let’s go find Jimmy and get out of here. This is a lot stranger and more uncomfortable than I imagined.”

 

***

 

Cael found refuge in the kitchen, slouching in a corner behind a table filled with the various dishes that people brought to the wake. An occasional person would walk through to get a drink or make themselves a plate of food, but none of them stuck around for anything other than the banal greetings one gives to people they barely know. That was the way that Cael liked it and with her trio of friends now patrolling the house, she was glad to stay out of sight. When she finally talked to them again, it would be on her terms and she would make sure there was a good chance that they would believe her story. Until then, avoidance was the best solution.

The spread before her was quite impressive and the longer she sat there, the better the food started to smell. There were dips of all kind, various casseroles and other appetizers that looked and smelled quite inviting. In particular, she saw a plate full of deviled eggs, a party favorite that she could easily gorge herself on. She knew that she no longer had the capacity to eat them Cool Hand Luke style, but one or two would not hurt. She grabbed an egg from the platter and shoved it into her mouth whole, forgoing any sense of manners. The wonderfully piquant flavor of the eggs mixed with mustard, mayo and relish filled her with momentary glee.

“That’s what I like to see, a girl with a healthy appetite.” The easily recognizable voice of Jimmy Lawson crushed Cael’s fleeting bliss.

Cael sputtered and nearly choked on the egg that she was still chewing, forcing herself to swallow the treat far sooner than she would have liked. She peered back over her shoulder slowly, only to find Jimmy’s unblemished white teeth grinning at her. Jimmy almost always scored with the ladies on the strength of his smile. His dark skin made his chompers stand out even more and just helped his case. Cael never expected to see the infamous player’s pearly whites gleaming at her.

“Oh yes, the close-up is even better than the wide frame version. Cael never told me that he had such an attractive young—what are you, his cousin?” Jimmy inquired.

“Please God, tell me that this isn’t happening.” Cael muttered, absolutely mortified that she was being flirted with by one of her best friends.

“It’s okay, I get it. We’re about to put a man in the ground; not exactly the best time to try and pick up a girl, but can you blame me? You are positively stunning, girl. I bet we get you in a dress and every woman in the room would turn green.”

Cael struggled to keep herself from strangling Jimmy, who she was sure was just being himself, but boy, he could not have picked a worse target to hit on. There was not a single bone in her body that was attracted to him, nor would there ever be. She retched at the thought that she might one day find men attractive, but at the same time doubted that it would ever be the case. Her sexual preferences were not going to change just because she was a girl now, she hoped. Then again, she was not too excited about any sort of sexual prospects at the moment. She was determined to change back into a guy before that became an issue.

“Talkative too, are we? It’s all good, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other later on, I’m sure. You and me—”

“No! That’s enough! Stop before you say something that we’ll both regret later.” Cael cut him off. “You know what? It’s already too late for that. Just don’t, okay?”

“What’s the big deal? You don’t even know me.”

“Believe me, I know you Jimmy Lawson. I know you quite well, and let me tell you something. I am not your type. Now, turn around, go find your friends and try to forget that you ever hit on me.”

Jimmy was dumbfounded. It was not often that he was turned down so vehemently. She knew his name though, so he figured that she was friends with some girl he hooked up with and then never called back—or maybe she was one of those girls. He never could remember all of their names, but then, he had never even asked for this girl’s name. He turned away like a puppy with its tail stuck between his legs and walked off, running into Trip on the way out of the kitchen.

“She shot you down, huh?” Trip asked.

“Shit no! Bitch was crazy about me, but I told her it was inappropriate for us to hook up at my friend’s dad’s funeral. She knows who I am though. They all come looking for a piece of Jimmy eventually.” He asserted, flashing a confident smile.

Cael heard the whole exchange. She knew that she dodged a bullet with Jimmy there, but it would still be really awkward when she got around to telling him who she was, assuming she got the chance to do so. She felt a tug on her shirt and looked down to find Emma staring up at her with a mischievous grin.

“That boy wanted to kiss you, didn’t he?”

“Probably, I’m just thankful that he walked away before he said anything truly embarrassing.” Cael sounded relieved. “Anyway, what do you have to report, messenger?”

“Mom said that Daddy told her about you being a girl and Daddy said that Uncle Aidan told him. I don’t like Uncle Aidan. He’s old and he smells like boiled cabbage.” Emma reported, adding her own bit of insight.

“Yeah, I’m not too fond of the man either, but it looks like we’re going to need to have a talk.”

Great Uncle Aidan—if there was one person in the world that she could take her anger out on, it was this man. Cael gleaned from her mother’s story that Aidan filled her father’s head with the nonsense that led him to make such bad decisions with her birth. It was still mostly hearsay on her part, but if nothing else, the man treated her mother like crap and now was a step away from blowing her cover with his loose lips. She gave little Emma’s hair a ruffle and then walked off, mentally preparing herself for the battle ahead.

 

***

 

Out on the back porch, Aidan was enjoying a cigarette alongside his wife, Brigid, and a few more members of the Foley clan. Age had turned his red curls grey and forced the strong lumberjack of a man to hide behind spectacles. The man was still considerably built, or at least hid the flaws well in thick layers of clothing. Laughter echoed in the November air and a porch light kept their party going well after sundown. Cael peered through the sliding glass door that led out onto the porch. She was not sure which of the men was Aidan, but the way that they were carrying on enraged her even more. She turned her attention to Brigid, who was the lone woman in the group. She felt a tinge of remorse for the woman that had been so nice to her mother all those years ago. She looked just as ravaged by the years as her husband was and was huddled up under a throw to stay warm in the autumn night. They were experiencing their first real cold snap of the year after a very long summer, so the temperature was well below what would be considered cozy. Cael cracked the door open to listen in on the chatter. She wanted to pick the right moment to make her entrance.

“Tragedy aside, Michael picked the perfect time of year to die. I hear that just last week it was around twenty-three, in late bloody October.” Aidan commented, taking another drag on his cigarette.

“A shame about that boy though,” a man about his mother’s age said. “Can you imagine changing back into a girl after all these years? Well, that’s what you get for messing with Púca. Never can trust those devils.”

“There’s no shame in it, Bobby. The lass was never a boy to begin with.” Aidan returned. “I knew that girl was trouble from the moment she showed up on my door in her mother’s arms. Michael should have left that woman as soon as they found out she was having a girl.”

“Hey now, there’s nothing wrong with girls. My little Emma is an angel.”

“Yeah, but she’s also your bloody third child, Bobby. I’m sure you would have thought different if she was born first, assuming you would have survived it. It might have taken twenty odd years, but as sure as I’m proud to be Irish, that little girl is what killed Michael. Of course, he would have never had a girl to begin with if he’d married a woman of proper stock rather than some street trash American whore.” Aidan declared with a straight face.

“Aidan Foley, you know better than—” Brigid started.

“Take it back!” Cael shouted, throwing the sliding glass door wide open, standing in the opening with an infuriated look in her eyes. “I don’t care what you say about me, but you don’t have the right to talk about my mother like that. She’s a better person than my father was or you will ever be.”

Cael had heard enough of Aidan’s chauvinistic hate speech. She was in no way proud of her womanhood, but there was a limit to what one can take. The small crowd gave the girl their full attention, but remained quiet. Some kind of retort was coming. She could tell by the amused grin that shaped Aidan’s wrinkled mouth, but for some reason he was waiting. The heat of her anger was not enough to shield her from the cold either and the chill soon penetrated her thin black shirt. Obstinance alone kept her from shivering in the face of the enemy.

“Look what we have here, a little stray black cat comes walking across my path. Patricide wasn’t enough for you though, was it? You’re determined to spread your bad luck to each and every member of the Foley clan, aren’t you?” Aidan taunted. “I won’t be taking a single thing back, lass. You and your mother took away one of the finest men I’ve ever known. I won’t have you tainting his name.”

“The only thing tainting the family name around here is you, old man. If you hadn’t filled my father’s head with complete bullshit, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“No, but you’d still be a girl. Face it, for all your bravado, you’re still nothing but a girl.” Aidan slowly stood up and advanced toward Cael. At a closer distance, the man did seem imposing with his broad shoulders and his half a foot advantage over her. “There was probably never an ounce of what it takes to be a real man in that body. Look at you. You’re soft, you dress like a nancy, you’re just far too pretty to be of any use other than getting down on your hands and knees and pleasing a man.”

Aidan’s gamble that his size would intimidate the girl did not pay off. He was still an old man and Cael was still stronger than she looked. The sexual innuendo was the last straw. He had insulted her mother and her far too many times. Cael’s fist tensed, she reeled back, and then she clocked him right in his protruding jaw. The punch stung Cael’s knuckles, but when Aidan stumbled back and tripped over his feet, she had a genuine smile on her face for the first time.

Cael walked away after as the other Foley men helped Aidan back up to his feet. The man was infuriated and was resolute to make sure that everybody knew about it.

“Brigid, we’re leaving!”

“Of course, dear.” Brigid responded as they gathered their things.

Once again, the commotion that Cael caused brought a crowd. Gwen stood by her daughter’s side as the insulted Foleys marched past them. She and the few people still left inside had no clue as to what had transpired, but whatever it had been, it was enough to clear out an entire side of the family. Brigid waved to Gwen and Cael as she headed for the door. There was a smile on her face a mile wide that she hid from her husband.

“I had a lovely time. Please, come and visit anytime you like.”

As the rest of the crowd cleared out, Cael and Gwen were alone for the first time since guests had started arriving. They were left with leftovers good enough for weeks as well as quite the mess to clean up in the next few days. It was then, when they were finally alone again that Gwen questioned what had happened outside earlier in the night.

“What was that all about with Aidan earlier?”

“Oh, nothing much, he was being an ass so I punched him in the face.” Cael responded.

“Cael! How could you?” Gwen sounded appalled. “I can’t believe you’d punch that old bastard in the face and not let me in on the action. Do you know how many years I’ve wanted to do that?”

~ by Kacie Cross on November 25, 2008.