Pigtails Are For Girls — Part 17
Chapter 37-38 
 
By Katherine Day
 
Jane finds great joy now as a lovely teen girl; she’s popular and successful, but is missing what she needs the most —
the love and affection of the love of her life. It’s an impossible love, yet she strives anyway.

With great thanks to Julie for her careful editing and ideas
Copyright 2009
Chapter 37: Lovesickness

“I don’t know what’s going on with Jane,” Nancy Marcineau (nee Pinkerton) said to her husband one Sunday morning in early December as they looked out upon the dull grey morning. “She’s still in bed, and that’s not like her.”

Jacques looked up from the business news section of the Sunday paper where his concentration had been focused on the recent downturn in retail sales, a reality that may doom the success of the JANE / USA clothing line campaign in spring.

“What?” he said, his mind still focusing on worries over his considerable investment in the clothing factory.

“Darling,” Nancy persisted. “Jane. She’s been so moody.”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry,” he said, sipping his coffee, which he let cool off due to his deep study of the business section. “Yes, I noticed that, too. She seems depressed.”

“This past week particularly, Jacques. What do you think? Is it the hormones?”

Jacques pondered the question. “Perhaps. You women do seem to have those periods of the month.”

“But she’s not a woman yet,” Nancy protested.

“But the hormones could still be affecting her. What does her doctor say?”

Nancy nodded, getting up to refill their cups and looking out the kitchen window onto the back lot that bordered woods; they regularly saw squirrels frolicking from tree branch to tree branch and sometimes were likely to see a deer or possum roaming. The family had moved over the Labor Day weekend to a log cabin home in a secluded forested area along the Douglas River, just inside the city limits.

“Maybe it’s just the weather, Jacques,” Nancy said. “It’s been so grey.”

“I’m scheduled to take her to Dr. Braunschweiger on Tuesday,” Jacques said. “We’ll have to have her look into it.”

*****
Jane awoke that morning and drew herself into the fetal position, cuddling under the blankets and began sobbing. She lay on her left side, her right hand caressing her left upper arm, content to feel its thin softness. It comforted her, she realized, that she was so fragile and slender.

Yet, she was crying, and she couldn’t understand it. She had found acceptance, for the most part, at school, where her grades continued to soar and her leadership in the literary magazine and with PAR was accepted. She nestled deeper into the bed clothes, and reflected: Was it the move to this more rural area, away from Wanda and now needing a ride from her mother or father to get to and from school? No, she didn’t think that was it: she found she liked walking back into the woods, particularly in the autumn, and, besides, she was now taking driving lessons and Jacques had promised her a car once she passed the driving test.

Was it the fact that she still had a penis, though it wasn’t big, compared to the boys she knew, but still it was there. No, she didn’t think that was what bothered her; she knew this would happen and felt she was prepared for what had to be done to complete her transition to being female.

Was it the fact that Marquise had never called her, contacted her, or even emailed her? Most every night in those few moments before sleep and again in the morning as she lay half asleep after the alarm sounded she imagined she was in his arms, her soft, smooth body next to his wiry muscular torso. She imagined, too, his kisses and wondered if they would be as magical in reality as they were in her dreams. She was a girl without experience in these matters, but as a voracious reader of teen girl novels and romance stories she had developed an idyllic picture of young love.

“Oh my dearest Marquise,” she repeated over and over. “I love you, I want you my darling.”

Her memory of the times they worked together on the Odyssey, sitting close to each other, viewing the veins that pronounced the strength of his bronzed forearms, contrasting with her own slender, soft, white skin; she wanted to cuddle up to him then, to receive his kisses, but that would have been impossible at the time, since he was still Jarod. Her memory had changed the picture a bit: in her memory now, she was not Jarod, but a teen girl named Jane.

Of course, at the time, in her own mind, she was a girl, always a girl, never the boy she outwardly portrayed.

She conjured up a picture of attending the prom in April with Marquise, she in a peach colored, gauzy strapless gown and hair piled stylishly atop her head, and Marquise in a purple tux with a crá¨me colored sash. The picture stilled her tears for a while.

“But that’ll never happen,” she said aloud. “Never happen.”

And the crying began anew. She was hopelessly in love, an unrequited love, a cruel love. Her sobbing grew louder, more persistent until there was a knock on her bedroom door and her mother asking: “Are you OK honey?”

Her “yes” came out between sobs.

“Can I come in dear?” her mother persisted.

Her sobbing subsided, and she said a tentative “yes,” and her mother entered. Jane looked up through her teary eyes to see her mother approaching with a concerned look and Jacques standing poised at the door.

“Oh mother,” Jane said, accepting the hugs of her mother, and bursting into a full-blown crying jag.

Jacques, too, entered the room, pulling the vanity bench next to the bed and taking Jane’s hand into both of his as her mother hugged her tightly. The sobs continued as her mother said: “Just let the tears come, dear.”

It seemed an eternity, but Jane stopped crying in a few minutes, and wiped her eyes with tissues produced by Jacques. She sat up in the bed, looking fragile and tiny in a light blue nighty with tiny straps, and looked at her mother and stepfather, realizing how lucky she was to have such caring, sympathetic parents.

“Tell us what’s wrong, Jane,” Jacques said. “We’ll understand.”

“It’s OK, I’m done crying now,” Jane said, reluctant to share her feelings about Marquise, which she now realized where foolish and the stuff of dreams.

Jacques got up and as he left the room said that he was going back to his coffee and the newspaper and suggesting it might be time for a mother-daughter talk.

*****
After some prodding Jane finally told her mother everything, including her long-standing love for Marquise, even before her life as Jane.

“I’ve always wanted to be in his arms, in his protection, mommy,” Jane said finally.

“Oh my darling,” her mother said, hugging her tightly.

“It must just be an infatuation, mommy, but why can’t I get over it? He doesn’t want me, probably thinks I’m a weirdo, which I guess I am to him.”

Nancy let go of her hug, and separated herself from Jane, grabbing both of the girl’s hands in hers and looked directly into her daughter’s bright, but teary blue eyes. “Oh my dear, dear Jane,” she said. “You are really just like any other 17-year-old girl, I can see that. You’re in love, and to you it’s real. Enjoy it honey, every girl should feel that.”

“Oh mommy, really? Is that how you felt toward my father?”

Nancy blushed a bit: “Yes, I was a starry-eyed girl then, only 17, and I was in love, I thought. I dreamed of him every night, just like you are doing, but he’s not half the young man as your Marquise.”

“You think so mommy?” Jane asked, using “mommy” as she often did in such moments.

“Yes, darling. I think your Marquise is a good young man. He’s smart and he doesn’t really know Jane yet. Give him time, but maybe he has another girl, but don’t worry, when this is all done, you’ll be the prettiest girl in town. There’ll always be another Marquise.”

The minute Nancy said that, she was mad at herself, and Jane was quick to protest.

“No mother, there will not be another Marquise. He’s special.”

“OK then honey,” Nancy said, changing her tone. “Make sure you get word to Marquise that you’d like to see him again. Tell your friend Latoya to suggest it.”

“He should be home next week from college,” Jane said, a smile coursing her face, still red and puffy from crying.

“Don’t be shy, dear, but don’t be too disappointed if he doesn’t take the bait, dear.”

“I won’t I promise,” Jane said, not really sure she could keep such a promise.

“Now get yourself cleaned up, take a nice bath and we’ll fix your hair into pigtails.”

“OK mommy,” Jane said. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Yes, honey, Jacques wants to take us for brunch at the Lakeview. You should wear your new winter outfit.”

“Oh mommy, I love that outfit,” Jane said. It was a colorful red and green skirt and white-layered blouse, especially designed for the holiday season. “I’ll look so Christmassy.”

*****
“You know Jacques, her only problem is that she’s truly a 17-year-old girl,” Nancy said as she returned to the kitchen table.

“I know. She’s always been a girl, honey.”

“Yes, and I never realized it, Jacques,” Nancy said. “I wished I had and we could have begun her transition before all these male things were happening to her body.”

“Is that what’s bothering her?”

“No, she knew that would happen. She’s in love, Jacques. Just a girl in love.”

Jacques smiled: “This, too, shall pass, but not without more tears, I’m sure.”

“Don’t belittle that, Jacques,” she scolded. “To a girl this love is real. I know. If I hadn’t been so blind and in love at her age, I’d never have gotten pregnant and given birth to her.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I know how she feels. I cried like that, too, when that bastard left me pregnant. I thought I was in love. These are real feelings for a girl, something I guess you men will never understand.”

“So you don’t think it’s the hormones?” he asked.

“No, but we better ask the doctor anyway. But, I think she’s just a girl in love.”

*****
“The ‘Bad Girls’ are getting together for a reunion,” Aniesha told Jane on the last day of school before Christmas vacation.

“Cool,” she replied. “That was back when we were sophomores and freshmen, Aniesha. We had quite a noontime club then.”

Aniesha laughed. “Yeh, we were pretty pathetic and so innocent then.”

“We were the original geeks, I think, and I was pathetic Jarod then,” Jane laughed.

“Yes you were, but I thought I was in love with you, and wanted you for my boy friend. What a sad case I was.”

“Yeah, to want me. That was pretty sad. I was not much then.”

Aniesha shook her head. “You’re wrong Jane. You were hot; I wasn’t the only girl who thought you were something special. But you paid no attention to any of us.”

“I did. I was with you girls all the time. I loved being with you.”

Aniesha changed the subject. “Well, you going to join us? We’re meeting on Saturday after Christmas about 1 p.m. at Hooters.”

“At Hooters?” Jane asked. “I’ll be jealous with my tiny tits.”

“Don’t worry, you’re still the prettiest girl among us. Come on join us. Tiffany will be there with her boy friend, and Latoya and Demetrius, and I’ll be there with Maxwell.”

“How about Marquise? Will he come?” Jane asked, almost too eagerly, she thought.

But Aniesha didn’t seem to pick up the anxiousness in her voice, replying only that Latoya had asked him to come.

Aniesha had filled out most attractively; as she always had in the past, she dressed conservatively, but in a classy style. She had never had a boy friend until just recently when Maxwell Livingston, who was headed to become valedictorian of the senior class, asked her to the homecoming dance. Aniesha had carefully groomed cornrolls and wore stylish glasses and Jane thought had become both beautiful and intelligent. She had a scholarship for Howard.

Jane told Aniesha she’d come to the get-together and asked whether she should ask Sam to join her.

“I wouldn’t, Jane,” Aniesha said. “He’s not really your boy friend, is he?”

“No, just a friend, but he’s always been sweet,” Jane said.

“I still wouldn’t, honey. He really was never part of the group,” she said.

Jane thought Aniesha’s response to Sam was strange; she’d always liked Sam, even though he was not the most handsome of boys; in fact, he was somewhat of a loner, always a bit awkward. Yet, he was exactly the kind of boy who would fit in with the geeky group that made up the “Bad Girls.”

Perhaps, Jane thought, Aneisha felt Sam’s presence might indicate to Marquise that Jane had a boy friend, and further stifle his interest in Jane. Maybe that was why he shouldn’t be invited.

That night, Jane’s dreams of Marquise heightened over the expectation that the boy would be at the Hooters get-together. She had been tempted earlier that night to call Latoya and ask about him, and whether he still was with his old girl friend, Janita. She had heard they had broken up, largely because Marquise was out of town in school and Janita always seemed to be a girl in need of constant attention. She decided against making the call, out of fear Latoya would tell Marquise of her interest and that might scare him away.

Several times during the fall, she had told Latoya she felt bad about deceiving Marquise, and wondered whether she should write him and apologize.

“No, Jane, just let it rest. Marquise will come to you when he’s ready. I think he always liked you.”

It was a dilemma; Jane trusted Latoya and welcomed her advice, but couldn’t help thinking she might be wrong about Marquise and that it might be better to contact him personally.

“No darling, I wouldn’t call him, really,” her mother said after she disclosed her feelings about Marquise as the reason for her morose demeanor. “Latoya’s right.”

Jane took their advice, content for the time being to fantasize each night and each morning about the tall, slender, heavenly Marquise. She was in love! But would he be?

*****
Jane thought of nothing else but Marquise in the days before Christmas and the expected get-together at Hooters; would he show up? Should she call and invite him? What should she wear? How should she act? What if he brought a girl friend? She tormented herself over and over with these questions, never finding a satisfactory answer.

Her mother noticed the distraction that featured her daughter, and guessed correctly it had to do with Marquise. She got Jane to help her bake Christmas cookies and decorate the house for Christmas, which the girl did, but without the old enthusiasm that she had shown in previous years.

Yet, Christmas this year was to be special; Jacques son, Peter would be joining them, winning a reprieve from his mother’s household, telling his mother he wished to be with his sister, Jane, since the two had hit it off so well. Peter also had found a girl friend in Douglas, and she would be joining them for Christmas dinner.

Since he entered college, Peter had blossomed, lost weight and found Colleen, an “Irish lass” in the words of Jacques. She was an English major at college, and Jane and she became friendly, though Jane, to her own shame, felt some jealousy because she and Peter had always been so close.

“Peter, I’m so happy for you,” Jane told him at Thanksgiving after Colleen joined them for pumpkin pie dessert that day. Jane really meant it; she was happy for Peter, but lamented that her close relationships with her half-brother were changing. They had shared so much together, once they had become comfortable, and she realized they had indeed become brother-sister.

And, Jane realized she now had a new friend in her life with whom she could share feminine enjoyments. In fact, for a while following the pumpkin pie dessert, the two girls snuck off to Jane’s bedroom, where they lay on their stomachs, examining several designs of dresses Jane had been designing.

“I love your designs, Jane,” Colleen said, her blue eyes sparkling in her round freckled face. “They’re so free and flowing and, truly, so darling.”

“I try to design my dresses so that the girls can have some fun in them. Do you know what I mean, Colleen?”

“I think so, and I like that. Nothing too serious for me. I’ve never been able to wear much in fashion anyway like you, Jane.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You have the loveliest figure, Jane. Really you do. I can’t believe you ever were a boy.”

“Thank you, Colleen,” Jane said. “I know Peter told you all about me, and I’m glad that doesn’t bother you.”

“You’ve been very important for Peter,” Colleen began, her voice hesitating. “He told me how he felt like a loser until his father married your mom, and he met you. He said you really encouraged him, and he loves you so much, just like a little sister.”

“Colleen, I never thought of Peter as a ‘loser,’” Jane said. “He’s a kind, considerate and really very smart and creative guy.”

Colleen blushed a bit at the words, finally blurting out, “Maybe that’s why I love him so.”

Colleen grabbed Jane, hugging her tightly, their lips meeting in a sisterly kiss.

“And I love you like a sister, too, Jane. Even though I am so envious of you. You’re so pretty, Jane.”

They both laughed. Colleen did not have the classic figure of a model; she was a bit heavy in the waist and did not have much of a bosom; yet, she had fresh, milky complexion, mottled with freckles that exuded a winning charm. Her smile, Jane concluded, was infectious and Peter was indeed fortunate to have found such a lovely young woman as a friend.

“Don’t be envious, Colleen,” Jane said. “You really are very warm and lovely. Someday, I’d love to create a dress for you.”

“Really? Would you?”

“Yes, but for now, do you know what?”

“What?”

“I’d like to fix your hair in pigtails,” Jane said.

“Oh that would be cool,” Colleen said. “Then we can skip out and show the others we’re pigtail sisters.”

They both laughed and giggled.

*****
For Christmas, Jane found a nice simple dress off the rack at Claudine’s; it was a blushing pink in light taffeta, with a layered skirt bottom, tied with a dark red sash and trim. The neck was high, with long sleeves that tightened at the wrists, giving the sleeves a ballooned look. She wore simple dark red pumps, with 3-inch heels and sheer, coffee-colored hose. She tied her hair in pigtails, but her mother objected, convincing her to put her hair up to expose her neck. “You have a lovely neck, darling,” she told Jane. “Show it off.”

The family’s first Christmas Day in their new home was indeed a festive affair; there had been a fresh snowfall on Christmas Eve, with some 6 inches of fluffy snow falling, turning the wooded yard into a winter wonderland. Christmas Day was sunny and clear, but bitterly cold, making the warmth of the Marcineau home so much more welcoming.

There were few gifts, since Jacques and Nancy had agreed there should be only one major gift for each person; Jane’s gift was a fake set of car keys for a new Chevrolet Malibu, which she would get once she has taken her driver’s test and gained her license.

*****
In the two days after Christmas before the Saturday afternoon get-together at Hooters, Jane’s stomach tensed up and her nervousness became apparent to all in the family. She called Latoya repeatedly, wondering to find out if Marquise would really show up on Saturday.

For one full day, despite leaving messages on Latoya’s cell phone, the girl didn’t return the calls, causing Jane to go into a deep funk. She worked both days at the store, and it was busy with post-Christmas returns, and Jane seemed only to be going through the motions, not greeting customers with her normal cheerfulness.

The following morning, Latoya finally called Jane, who fortunately was on her morning break and was able to talk.

“Sorry I didn’t call you yesterday, but we were at my grandma’s in Chicago, Jane.”

“Oh that’s OK,” Jane said, trying to hide the breathless excitement in her voice. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“You must have left a dozen messages, Jane. And, yes, Marquise is coming.”

“Wheeeeeee,” Jane let out a girlish squeal.

“Cool your jets, girl,” Latoya said. “He’s still not sure about you.”

Jane was alone in her sewing room at the back of the store, and she sat down on the chair, reaching her legs out in front of her, seeing the hosed toes in her sandals, and fighting back tears.

“Oh, I want him so much to like me, ‘toya.”

“You’re asking a lot of him, Jane. He’s never seen you as Jane.”

“I know, and I’m so worried, he won’t like me. Is he still with Janita?”

“No, I think that’s all over, Jane. Right now, he has no girl friend.” Latoya’s words brought a smile to Jane.

“Maybe . . .” Jane began.

“Don’t hold out hope, honey. Remember he still knows you only as Jarod.”

“I know, ‘toya, but how should I dress tomorrow.”

“Simply, honey. Don’t overdo it. I’m just wearing jeans and a blouse and sweater, Jane. Just dress like you’re shopping with us girls.”

Latoya offered that she and her boy friend, Demetrius, would pick her up about 12:30 Saturday. Jane thanked her, her mind set at ease for the moment, but then her heart began beating with excitement. How would her first meeting with Marquise go? The thought never left her that day.

*****
Nancy and Jacques lay together, savoring their recently completed love-making. Jacques was breathing slowly, calmly in the early moments of sleep, content with the ejaculation that left him exhausted. Nancy was more awake, still on her back, the scent of her mild cologne mixed with the odor of the sweat and juices of their passion. She was still fingering her vagina where Jacques sperm a few moments earlier had spurted into her, as she squealed in an orgasm.

Jacques was a super lover, she felt, particularly in the long foreplay he used, his gentle caresses and light kisses, both of which grew in passion and intensity, allowing Nancy to experience her orgasm almost always as he hit his peak of excitement. Yet, as he collapsed afterward, she wanted more, but Jacques was done, at least for a few hours. Maybe she’d be awake when his passion reignited in the morning, but then she really only wanted her sleep to continue, uninterrupted by love-making. It was the eternal mystery between lovers: why couldn’t the passion of each person be reached jointly and maintained in togetherness?

Before meeting Jacques, Nancy had been with only one man: Jane’s father, the itinerant musician whom she slept with only three times as a 17 year old girl and became pregnant. Still, from what she had heard from her girl friends and read in women’s magazines, Jacques compared to most men was a superb lover. She realized she was smiling in contentment as she reflected on her marriage to Jacques. What a marvelous man and so very good for her daughter, too!

She heard a door open, and some gentle padding of footsteps in the hallway and a creak of boards so constant in the aging house.

“Jane’s having trouble getting to sleep,” she whispered to Jacques. “She’s so excited about meeting Marquise tomorrow.”

Jacques grunted something that sounded like “yes.”

“I’ve never seen her so out of herself, Jacques. She always seems so in charge of things, but this business with Marquise has her all out of sorts.”

“Can’t understand that,” Jacques said, finally. “She hasn’t seen him in over a year, I think.”

“He’s really such a nice boy, Jacques. So considerate, and so smart too.”

“I know, Nancy,” her husband said, now fully awake, as he listened to the toilet flush as Jane obviously completed her business.

“I wonder if she’ll ever experience love like I just did with you, Jacques. You’re so marvelous.” She leaned over to kiss his forehead, lightly, and brush is hair, still thick and slightly graying.

Jacques pulled his wife next to him and held her tightly, saying tentatively: “I don’t know honey. Will she ever experience love like a real woman? I don’t know, dear.”

“I read some about this and it seems that if she gets the surgery, she’ll have a vagina very much like a real woman’s and should get orgasms just as strong and sometimes stronger than the lovely one I just had, thanks to you.”

Jacques kissed his wife and held her lightly. “Jane’s such a good girl. She deserves the best.”

The bathroom door opened and closed, the creaking boards in the hallway sounded, and Jane’s bedroom door closed.

“I should go in and comfort her, Jacques,” Nancy said. “Maybe get her some milk and cookies or something.”

“Can she really love this boy?” Jacques asked.

“I don’t know,” Nancy said. “They were very close when she was still Jarod and we hid any sign of Jane from the boy, even to the point of keeping his room empty of outwardly girl stuff.”

“Do you think they ever made gay love, dear?”

“No, Jacques, definitely not. I think I would have known. No, they were just very compatible.”

Nancy slipped out of bed, found her robe and slippers and turned to leave the room. “I think she needs a mother-daughter hug, darling. Sleep tight, dear.”

*****
“Am I being ridiculous, mom,” Jane asked as her mother sat on the side of her bed.

“No honey, but you know you haven’t seen him in over a year, and he’s never known you as Jane. So don’t expect too much.”

“Oh mom, I love him so much,” the girl said, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her mother.

“He’s a nice boy, Jane. You know how fond I’ve been of him, but he’s older now and been to college.”

“Isn’t he so handsome, mom?” Jane question ended, sobs entering her voice.

“Oh darling he is. So handsome, just like that Obama guy running for president, only a little darker and without the big ears.”

“Mother,” Jane scolded. “I think Obama’s really cool and handsome, too. You shouldn’t make fun of his ears.”

“But, honey I’m right. Marquise is really handsome like Obama.”

“Yes, mother he is, and he deserves a pretty girl friend.”

“Which you are!”

“But I’m still not a girl, really, not a girl. Not yet.”

“Jane,” Nancy said firmly. “You are a girl. You always have been, even though I didn’t always know it. Just a few simple changes and you’ll soon be a girl for real.”

“Oh mommy.”

“And I think Marquise will find you very pretty when he sees you tomorrow.”

*****
Jane finally got to sleep, thanks to her mother’s late night visit, as well as the cookies and milk she provided.

“See you are hungry,” her mother said. “You hardly ate anything tonight, honey, and you know the doctor said you should gain weight.”

“I can’t get fat, mom. You know that.”

“Fat! You were down to 125 pounds last time we checked and I think you’ve lost weight since then. And with your height that’s too thin, even for a girl.”

“I need to be thin, mom, to be pretty.”

“Not like this.” Nancy grabbed Jane’s wrist, easily encircling it with her fingers. She ran her hand up Jane’s arm, feeling its slender softness. “You should get better nutrition and follow the doctor’s orders.”

“Mom,” Jane pleaded. “I’ll be OK.”

Nancy found Jane’s obsession with weight to be troubling. Even with the girl’s strong fashion consciousness, she had not succumbed to the vanity that comes to many girls her age. It was only now, with this passion for Marquise, that she seemed worrying so intensely about how she looks.

Nancy worried too about what would happen if Marquise rejected Jane, or perhaps even mocked her in some way for the girl’s incessant approaches. How could she tell Jane how often girls in the throes of infatuation have those feelings dumped upon cruelly, leaving the girls in deep dark depression?

Well, Jane’s a smart girl and has lots in her future, Nancy felt. Besides Jane couldn’t get pregnant.

*****
“Does this look OK?” Jane asked Latoya when she arrived, along with Demetrius, to pick her up for the lunch at Hooters.

“You’re fine, Jane,” Latoya said, hardly looking at Jane.

“You didn’t even look much, ‘toya. Tell me how I look, please.”

Latoya stood in the living room in the winter coat she was wearing against the cold, below zero weather of the day. She looked more intensively at Jane, and said: “You’re fine. You look good in anything you wear, honey. Come on now, Demetrius gets impatient easily.”

Jane had tried on at least six different outfits that morning, before finally settling on a flowing, layered skirt and a peasant blouse with a multicolored vest. She had boots with a short heel that went to just below the knee.

“You don’t think I overdressed, do you?” she pressed her friend.

“No, you’re fine. I’m not wearing a skirt, just slacks here,” Latoya said.

“Should I change?” Jane asked.

“No, no, no, Jane. Just let’s go.” Latoya’s voice was insistent and firm.

“Bye, honey, have fun,” her mother said as the two left the house into the subzero Wisconsin cold.

*****
Jacques had heard the exchange between the two girls from the kitchen. As his wife returned, he said:

“Well, I don’t doubt any more that she’s a girl,” he said, laughing. “No boy would go through that clothes thing like she did this morning.”

Chapter 38: Lunch at Hooters

Latoya, Demetrius and Jane were the last to arrive, and, as luck would have it, Jane was forced into the only free seat at the other end of the table from Marquise, who was sitting next Aniesha. The two had arrived together, along with Maxwell, Aniesha’s boy friend.

“Here’s the pretty Jane,” announced Aniesha from the other side of the table.

Jane acknowledged the greeting with a dainty flick of her hand, saluting the group in a very feminine manner. Demetrius assisted her in taking off her winter coat and scarf, proving to be the perfect gentleman as he then assisted Latoya in doing the same. There were an even dozen at the table that had been set up at the back of the restaurant.

“We’re sorry we’re late,” Demetrius said. “But then I had to wait while these two girls tried to decide what to wear.”

The group laughed, most eyes still focused on Jane, who decidedly had dressed more formally than any of the others.

“That was Jane, not me,” Latoya protested, laughing.

As she took her seat, she realized that nearly all eyes at the table had been upon her; she still drew lots of attention, even from among her friends who continue to marvel at how lovely this onetime boy had become. Everyone at the table knew of her background, but as Jane looked about the room, she noticed other eyes followed her, obviously taken by her natural beauty and femininity.

Her beloved Marquise, she noticed, had not looked at her, keeping his head down, staring at the empty plate in front of him. She saw Aneisha poke Marquise, and state: “Jane’s here, Marquise. Say hi.”

“Hi,” muttered Marquise, hardly looking up as he said it.

“Hi Marquise,” Jane said, trying to hide her anxiety at seeing the young man for the first time in a year.

He was more handsome than ever, Jane thought, noticing he continued to have close-cropped hair and a clean-shaven face. Her mind wandered as she stared blankly, unseeingly at the menu in front of her, feeling herself in his arms, looking up to him expecting to feel his lips upon hers.

“What do you think of Obama now?” Jane’s magical musings were interrupted by the question coming from Tiffany Stankowski, her longtime friend, who was seated to her left.

“Oh? Ah. Yes, Obama,” Jane stammered.

“Yes, silly, Obama. You know him?” Tiffany had taken to wearing glasses again, a true necessity given her awful eyes; the girl chose granny type frames, helping to create a bookish appearance. Jane felt the look was most becoming for her friend.

The “Bad Girls” group and their friends amounted to an even dozen, eight girls and four boys, counting Marquise, Demetrius and two others who accompanied their girl friends. The table was soon abuzz with laughter and conversation; Tiffany talked with great excitement over her volunteering as an “Obama girl” in the primary campaign. She urged Jane to join the group, something Jane wanted to do, but found she had little time for. Every time she saw Obama’s picture, her mind immediately jumped to picture Marquise. The two looked so alike, she felt, except that Marquise didn’t have the Senator’s big ears.

The lunch was great fun, except for one thing: Marquise never said one more word to Jane, leaving with Aniesha and Maxwell before any of the others, saying he had to get to church with his mother that afternoon.

“Church on a Saturday afternoon?” one of the girls questioned.

“Yes. I’m preparing for Sunday service. I gotta go,” Marquise said, addressing the group in general, but careful not to look in Jane’s direction.

Jane wanted to leap up and run after him, drawing the lovely, handsome, scrumptious young man tightly into a passionate hug. Instead, she had all she could do to sit quietly in her seat and hold back tears.

*****
“We should have warned you,” Demetrius said, as he walked with Jane and Latoya after the lunch. “I noticed you almost cried in there, Jane.”

“Come let’s sit here,” Latoya motioned to a lounge pit in the mall with several empty couches and chairs.

The three sat together on a long upholstered bench seat, Latoya taking Jane’s hands in hers, and patting them gently.

“You’re in love with him, Jane, aren’t you?” Demetrius asked.

Jane nodded her head, still fighting back tears, not wishing to make a scene in the mall.

“I told you that, Demetrius,” Latoya scolded. “You didn’t believe me when I said Jane was in love with Marquise.”

“Well, Jane, it seems Marquise has gotten real religious at that college he attends,” Demetrius began.

“Yeah, he’s joined that same evangelical group that demonstrated at our school about you,” Latoya said.

“That group?” Jane was shocked. How could he? Those people hated her, called her an abomination for being a boy in girl’s clothes, quoting all sorts of obscure Bible lines to call her the agent of the devil.

“Yes, that group, Jane,” Demetrius continued. “There’s a church of that denomination in Reynoldsville where he goes to college, and it seems he’s gotten in tight with the minister there. He’s even quit playing basketball so that he could devote more time to his ministry.”

“Yes, and he’s after Demetrius to join that church, too,” Latoya said.

“I won’t, that’s for sure,” Demetrius said. “Those people are nuts. I don’t what got into Marquise, but I think that minister in Reynoldsville has a spell over him or something.”

A million thoughts went through Jane’s head that evening, and she hardly slept. She still loved Marquise, she knew; yet, it seemed to be an impossible love.

*****
Wanda was home from college only for two days during the Christmas holiday, mainly due to the fact that she was playing varsity basketball for the State University women’s team. Like most top college teams, men’s and women’s, the teams were busy during the holidays with practice sessions and scheduled games.

She had grown to nearly six feet tall, and developed a solid body, with toned arms and rock hard legs. In spite of maintaining a boyish cut to her hair, she retained a unique beauty and drew lots of attention from men and boys. She had ended her friendship with Troy when they both graduated the year before with Troy finding a new love in a girl he met at a summer camp where both were counselors.

“Don’t you miss Troy,” Jane had asked the previous summer, shortly after the breakup.

“A little,” Wanda said. “He really was so sweet and nice.”

“And a hunk, too.”

Wanda laughed. “I guess so. I just wasn’t turned on.”

The person who truly excited Wanda was Heather, the girl who worked with Jane at Claudine’s, the former model who was nearly as tall at Wanda, but who had grown somewhat fleshy as she left her teen years. They were inseparable when Wanda was home, and Heather had driven several times during the school year to Madison to watch her friend play basketball and then visit with her. As the school year went on, Wanda began communicating by email and text-messaging and cell phone to Heather almost nightly. Jane actually realized she had grown jealous of Heather, who would periodically relate some of the topics of their messaging.

Jane remembered all those years when Wanda and she expressed love for each other, a warm love between two girls, although Jane at that time had still be in her outwardly boy mode.

“I hate myself for being jealous,” she reprimanded herself several times while stewing over the situation.

She knew she should be grateful to Wanda for all the support she gave when they first met, for being one of the few people who overlooked his pathetic male being, and encouraged his eventual journey into femininity. And, too, she felt both Heather and Wanda were dear friends, and deserved happiness.

During the holiday period, Jane worked at Claudine’s, and, as was their usual practice, she and Heather went on lunch break together to the food court.

“You seem so quiet today,” Heather said.

“I guess,” was Jane’s muttered reply.

Heather pressed Jane, realizing the girl was sad about something, finally saying, “You looked close to tears several times this morning. What’s bothering you?”

“Marquise hates me,” Jane blurted, glad to get the information out.

“Why would he hate you? Why would anyone hate you, Jane? My oh my, but you’re just about the kindest person on earth.”

Jane remained silent for a moment and then quickly told the story that Marquise’s religion told him that for a boy to dress like a girl was an abomination before God. She burst into tears when she completed telling the story.

“He’s stupid, and that religion is goofy,” Heather said. “Marquise’s a smart boy. He’ll come to his senses.”

“He’ll never . . . ah . . . never love me, Heather.” Her crying grew more intense, and she found herself being hugged by her friend on the bench in the food court.

“You’ll find love, my dear,” Heather said.

“I hope so.”

“I’ll tell you what, Wanda’s coming home about supper time, and she’s coming to my place about 9 o’clock this evening. Why don’t you join us? Bring your jammies and we’ll have a PJ party, just like we’re 13 years old again.”

The image of the three of them giggling together cheered Jane, but she demurred: “No I don’t want to interrupt. You two need to be together.”

“Oh we’ll have time for that. I know Wanda will love having you there, we’ll just be three girl friends hanging out together.”

“You’re sure I won’t be an interloper? I know you and Wanda want to be together.”

“Jane, she’ll love having you there, and I think the three of us sleeping in my bed tonight would be fun.”

“But, it’s just . . .”

“No, Jane, don’t be an old prude. It’s not like you’re a guy.”

Jane smiled, and the smile quickly turned into a giggle and finally into uncontrolled laughter.

The evening among the three girls turned out to be a real tonic for Jane. They watched some old girly television shows, ate popcorn and drank soda; they giggled, and agreed wholeheartedly on one point: boys were no good. They even tied Jane’s hair into pigtails and found some young teen clothes for her; they laughed as they said she could pass for 13, particularly with her puny breasts.

There was lots of bodily contact, hugs and kisses; Wanda and Heather marveled at the soft remains of Jane’s penis; it was never big, and had softened due to the hormones she had been taking. The two girls giggled over how tiny it was, tweaking it with their fingers and kissing it. Yet, it remained soft.

Both of her girl friends were heavier and stronger than Jane; they both marveled at Jane’s slenderness, her more noticeable fragility and femininity.

“Jane, how I envy you,” Heather said, aware of the fact that she had gained weight since she quit modeling at age 17. “You have such a lovely body.”

“I like you just the way you are,” Wanda said, pinching a bit of her girl friend’s fleshy thigh. “But, you’re right, our Jane is truly a beauty.”

There were more giggles and soon Jane was asleep; during the evening she was vaguely aware of moving and grunting in the bed, but never really awakening to see what her two friends might be doing.

That night she forgot about Marquise. The next night, in her own bed alone, she again came to tears about the lovely boy who now hated her.

*****
Once school resumed after the holidays, Jane was constantly busy, and thoughts of Marquise became more intermittent. Yet, she cried some nights when such thoughts re-entered her head, and found it hard to get to sleep. The realization that Marquise hated her and considered her an “abomination” continued to haunt her. He wasn’t being fair. Doesn’t he know Jane had no choice in this matter?

Not only was Jane busy with maintaining her nearly straight A grades in class, but she was still editing the Odyssey and leading the PAR group. And, she was spending nights and Saturdays working at Claudine’s as the spring JANE / USA fashions were being marketed. Then, too, there was time spent searching for colleges do attend the following year.

Yet, thoughts of Marquise surged into her mind, disrupting her dedication to her school, work and life.

In February, Emil “Butch” Czaczyk of the White Knights, the gang of whites who had been one of the problem groups at Roosevelt, came to a PAR meeting with an idea. He had early on been a reluctant participant in the organization, calling it a bunch of “fairies” and “commies.” Yet, as time went on, he had become a regular participant in the weekly meetings, even though some of the steam had gone out of the group.

Strangely, Butch had begun, too, to dress more neatly, often wearing an open-collar white shirt and dark slacks, instead of the grubby sweatshirts and jeans he previously fashioned. Jane, noticed, too, that he began to sit near Tiffany in the meetings, and seemed to defer to the bespectacled girl.

“I think Butch is falling for you, Tiffany,” Jane said one day.

“I doubt it. I’m certainly no beauty,” Tiffany said.

“Well he likes to be next to you, I see. And, he’s not such a bad guy.”

Tiffany smiled. She wasn’t used to boys paying much attention to her, and it was apparent she had noticed Butch apparently had been attracted to her.

“You know what we should do,” Butch proposed at the February meeting. “We need a project to help people outside of the school.”

“What?” Jane asked. She had become the president of the group and led the meetings.

“Well, Easter is coming up,” Butch began. “And I was thinking we could sponsor some activity for the kids in the projects. Maybe an Easter egg hunt.”

“Us?” Tiffany asked.

“Yes, all of the groups here, the White Knights, the Latinos, the blacks, all of us together.”

“That sounds great,” Mr. Angleton, the teacher adviser said.

Thus began the great Roosevelt High School Easter Egg Hunt for the kids of Douglas, to be enacted at the Lakefront Park on Easter Saturday. The group was astonished that the idea stemmed from Butch, who had been one of the nastiest and most negative of the gang leaders, and certainly one who seemed to degrade anyone who was not Caucasian. Now, he was working with kids of all races at Douglas and proposing a project that basically would involve minority children.

“What’s got into Butch?” Jane wondered, but reserved judgment, realizing that Butch’s apparent interest in Tiffany and also made him consider doing something positive in the school. Love wields strange powers, she thought.

The project would blossom into a major undertaking that would involve the whole community, and, though Jane didn’t know it, would bring love back into her life.

*****
In March, Melissa came to Claudine’s to be measured for her wedding dress; Jane had agreed to work on it during her spare time at the store, and not charge Jacques for her time. She was eager to present the dress to Melissa as a wedding gift, in honor of Terri.

“You look marvelous, Melissa,” Jane said as the young woman entered the store.

“I’ve lost another 10 pounds since I saw you last,” she said, a broad smile on her face.

“Well, you look just smashing, but don’t lose anymore before the wedding. I think I have just the dress for you as you are now.”

Melissa laughed: “Don’t worry; I’ll never be skinny like you. You are so lovely, Jane.”

“Mom and the doctor both want me to put on some more weight before I have my surgery.”

“Oh, you planning on SRS?” Melissa asked.

“Yes, this summer,” Jane smiled. “That’s if all goes right.”

“That’s such an expensive operation,” Melissa said.

“Yes, Jacques, my stepdad has been so sweet; we’ve made lots of money on the JANE / USA fashions and he’s set aside half of it for me. There’s plenty for me to become all girl.”

Jane smiled, realizing she was nearing the completion of her long trip to womanhood.

“You are such an adorable young lady, Jane. Terri would have been proud to be your girl friend, I know.”

The mention of Terri caused both girls to pause for a moment; Jane felt a heaviness descend upon her, and her eyes moisten.

“Jane, dear,” Melissa said after the measurements were completed. “Would you consider being a bridesmaid for me?”

“Me?”

“Yes, darling. I hate to ask you, since you’ll have to get a gown and you’re working on my own,” Melissa said. “I know you don’t know me that well, Jane, but . . . well . . . I thought mother would like it, in memory of Terri.”

“Melissa, I would love to. Your wedding day is a week after my graduation and a month before my surgery, so that should work out.”

“Good,” Melissa said. “And we’ll pick out ready made gowns for you and the other bridesmaid and maid of honor. Right from Claudine’s here. You won’t have to sew any. I’ll pay for yours.”

“I’ll pay for mine, Melissa,” Jane protested.

“No way and no arguments,” Melissa said. “There, it’s settled.”

Melissa left the store, her eyes sparkling, a truly happy young woman.

*****
“Good old Sam,” Latoya said to Jane upon hearing Sam had invited Jane to be his prom date.

“Yes, good old, reliable Sam,” Jane said. “He’s really a true friend, isn’t he?”

Jane felt guilty about Sam; he really was a real friend, and he never asked anything of anyone. He was always present at the PAR meetings, and often took Jane home in his car after school. He never made any overtures toward Jane or any other girls, it appeared. Always tall and awkward, Sam made few other friends, except for Tiffany, Latoya and Jane. He blushed easily and stammered often, but there was no selling him short on brilliance. He would finish, like Jane, in the top five in the class.

Now in his senior year, Sam’s appeared surer of himself; his skinny frame had filled out a bit and his face grew strangely attractive. Jane wondered why she was beginning to think Sam was attractive: his face still had the pockmarks that plagued him all his childhood, but they now seemed to provide him with a certain unique quality, which when coupled with his always alert green eyes, gave him a rugged handsomeness.

“You like him, don’t you Jane?” Latoya asked.

“Oh yes, but I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you’re thinking?”

“I didn’t think you were, Jane, but don’t break his heart. He’s too sweet.”

“I won’t ‘toya. Don’t worry. I don’t think he cares for me that way anyway.”

“I don’t know about that, Jane. He’s been given you some googly eyes recently.”

“No he hasn’t,” Jane said.

“You could do worse, Jane,” Latoya said. “Besides, you should forget about Marquise.”

“I’m trying to. Has he got another girl friend?”

“I don’t think so, he’s just so deeply involved in that church stuff, I don’t think he has time for girls.”

“I guess.”

“Just forget him, Jane.”

It was good advice. In her mind, Jane knew her friend was right: Marquise had ignored her and may even be disgusted by her; Marquise surely would want a girl who could provide him with children; Marquise was unusually handsome, and could chose any girl he wanted and why would he want Jane, who was truly not yet a girl. Yet, she cried that night in bed, yearning to feel his arms about her and his lips upon hers.

*****
“Am I gay?” she asked Dr. Bjorn Magnusson on her next monthly visit to the Milwaukee therapist who specialized in transgendered cases.

Dr. Magnusson was not a medical doctor, but had a Ph.D. in applied psychology from the University of Minnesota. The therapist has been recommended by the clinic in Montreal where she was planning her sexual reassignment surgery; they required a year of constant monitoring by a qualified therapist before they’d agree to perform the surgery. In addition, Jane would need a statement from the therapist and her psychiatrist, Dr. Martin, attesting to the reality of her need to live as a woman before they’d let her put an “F” onto her driver’s license.

“I get that question all the time from transgendered persons like yourself Jane,” the therapist said.

He was a tall, slender man in his late 30s with a narrow face, long nose and wispy blonde hair already beginning to recede. And, Jane realized, he had the bluest and most sparkling eyes she’d ever seen, accompanied by a smile that often had an impish quality. Black and white photographs of his native Norway, the rugged walls of rocky fjords and dark water; the pictures of farmers standing on hilly pastures and the streets of Oslo, were hung on the plain white walls of his office. The furniture was spare, typical of the popular Nordic style, with thin structure, but surprisingly comfortable.

“Well, I wonder, doctor,” Jane said haltingly. “I’ve . . . ah . . . been in love with a boy since I first met him, and . . . ah . . . that was even when I was still a boy.”

“Tell me about him, Jane.”

Jane began at the beginning, when Marquise pinned her down in the park when Demetrius thought Latoya was cheating on him when Jane (then Jarod) was 11 years old. She told how they became friends, sitting together almost constantly at lunch and working on Odyssey.

“Oh doctor, even when I was Jarod I dreamed about being in Marquise’s arms and feeling him caress me,” Jane said. “I must be gay.”

The doctor merely nodded, indicating that Jane should continue. Jane was blushing now, as she recalled her feelings. She looked at her hands, slender, white and pretty hands.

“I remember I wanted him to hold my hands as we ate lunch, doctor. He had such strong hands and well-formed, and I imagined how mine would be buried into his. Oh I felt that so deeply. I wanted to be his, all his.”

Jane stopped, and the doctor finally spoke: “You were reacting as a girl, Jane, even then.”

She couldn’t explain it, but Jane felt embarrassed now as she related these feelings. Indeed, even then she had pictured herself as a girl; yet, she believed that Marquise never saw her as a girl, but as a boy who was fun to be with, even though he rarely demonstrated any masculinity.

In truth, Jane’s knowledge of sex was limited; she never recalled feeling desires to kiss a girl or to “make love,” as she heard it called. She did recall enjoying the embraces and kisses she had both with Terri and Wanda. With Terri, Jane had felt so comforted by the touch of Terri’s softness and warmth; the two had embraced most passionately, hugging almost for dear life, as if the two had never before felt comfort in another’s body. With Wanda, Jane had found true protection and comfort in the arms of the other girl whose muscular body was so well formed and hard, while Jane’s body was so weak and undeveloped. Their kisses, Jane knew, were the kisses of sisters.

“Jane,” Doctor Magnusson said using slow, deliberate terms. “It’s apparent that you were born as a female with some male parts. I know you were upset sometimes with Dr. Martin for being slow to see that you indeed were a female and that to keep you in a life as a male would be torture for you. But, the doctor had to be sure, dear, that to steer you toward a female life was right for you.”

Jane had cried often during those years when she continued to live outwardly as a boy; it was so awful as she went to school everyday and yearned to wear the skirts or shorts and tank tops and girly tees that the girls wore.

“I understand, doctor, and I knew Dr. Martin and mother only wanted the best for me,” Jane said. “But I think I always knew I was a girl.”

“And, Jane, you have become a most lovely girl and now the next step is to make you complete. In the next week, I’ll dictate two letters for you: one is for the SRS clinic in Montreal in which I will attest to the fact that you have lived for over a year now as female and should be approved for surgery. The other will be for the State of Wisconsin signifying you are to be considered ‘female’ in the terms of state law for driver’s license purposes and marriage.”

Jane clapped her hands and felt like she wanted to kiss the doctor, but knew she should feel restraint.

“Oh doctor, thank you. Thank you,” she gushed. “And marriage, too.”

“Well you’re a little young for that, and it doesn’t sound like the other boy is quite ready for you. But, yes, you would be legal to marry some man after the state accepts my letter and a similar one from Dr. Martin.”

Since Jane wanted the surgery to be done early in July so that she could be healed and ready to go to college in September, Dr. Martin and Dr. Magnusson were seeking a waiver to get the surgery done before Jane turned 18 in August. Jane’s mother and her now legal guardian and stepfather, Jacques would also have to sign statements of approval.

“Now, Jane, about that young man?” Dr. Magnusson said. “I understand he hasn’t talked with you since you started dressing as a girl last year. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Jane said sheepishly, realizing that the therapist might think she was foolish to pursue Marquise.

“Jane let time pass,” he began. “I think you told me your girl friends and his friend Demetrius both support you in this. Maybe they will let him know how wrong he is to think of you as an ‘abomination.’”

“They’ve tried, doctor, but his religion is so strict.”

He rose and went to his desk, opening a drawer and drawing out a stack of brochures. He handed them to Jane. They were entitled: “What the Bible says and doesn’t say about the Transgendered.”

There were six copies. “Give these to your family and friends, and it will show that the Bible has contradictory views on the issue. In your case, Jane, we now know that you had no choice in the matter. You were born to be a girl, only part of nature made you a boy.”

“Thank you doctor.” Jane arose to leave.

“By the way, I predict Marquise will come around some day, but in the meantime, there are other boys.”

The doctor put his arm around Jane and led her gently to the door.

*****
“I don’t know if it’ll do any good, Latoya, but why don’t you give this to Marquise the next time you see him? He might find some value in it.”

Jane handed two copies of the brochure to her friend as they sat during the lunch hour on an outside bench during a surprisingly warm day in early March.

“Oh I don’t know Jane,” Latoya said. “He’s really into this God stuff and I’m sure he’ll only look at readings from his pastor.”

“Oh that’s a shame,” Jane said. “Not only about this, but everything. I think Marquise is just too smart to not keep an open mind.”

“I thought he was, too, but he’s swallowed all this, hook, line and sinker.”

Jane opened one of the copies and pointed to the section of the Bible most often quoted that says crossdressing and by implication, being transgendered, was a sin. It showed the quote from Deuteronomy 22.5 in the Old Testament that reads: "The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the Lord thy God."

“See how the pamphlet discusses it, openly and with intelligence,” Jane said.

Latoya studied the material for a few minutes, finally saying: “That puts this in a whole new light, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, such as is it an abomination for you to be wearing jeans today, a man’s outfit?” Jane asked.

“No of course not, and we never quote this against women wearing pants or doing men’s jobs like being cops and soldiers.”

“And the Bible was written in different times, too,” Jane continued.

“Oh yes, this same book of the Bible, I see, shows that many things are prescribed that we never do, such as killing both a man and woman when they commit adultery.”

“You see the point, Latoya,” she asked.

“I do, but will Marquise and he might be offended if I give it to him, Jane.”

“Try it, Latoya, please.”

Latoya said she’d try to find an appropriate time to talk to Marquise about it.

(Note to readers: A short and readable review of this Biblical issue can be found at: http://www.rachelmiller.info/edumat01.htm.)

*****
“I’ve quit the White Knights,” Butch explained at a meeting of the Peace at Roosevelt (PAR) meeting in mid-March.

“They think I’m a wimp for joining with all you, for planning this Easter egg hunt,” he said. “But I told them that they were just being stupid. Maybe they could do something good for a change. And then Billy Oleson got nasty and we exchanged a few blows.”

“Were you hurt, Butch,” Tiffany asked, her concern apparent.

“Nah, I bloodied his nose, and then left. They’ll have to do without me.”

Tiffany let out a sigh of relief, and grabbed the arm of Butch. She smiled at him, and Butch smiled back. Jane looked at the exchange, and wondered how much Butch’s renunciation of the gang had to do with his convictions as it did with his infatuation with Tiffany. Jane noticed also that both had taken to dressing more neatly than before.

“Jimmy McCoy will still be with us, so the Knights will still be a part of this, I think,” he said.

“Good Bruce,” Jane said. “I’m glad you’re out of the gang, but I don’t want them to desert our PAR group.”

“No, Jimmy is eager for the hunt to go on,” Butch said. “He ‘s eager, and I’ll help with them too.”

In fact, all of the major gang groups had agreed to participate in the Easter egg hunt, and worked hard to recruit kids from their own neighborhoods to join the hunt on the Saturday before Easter. A number of churches also agreed to participate, including St. Matthew A.M.E. Church, where Marquise’s family attended, and Jane couldn’t help but wonder if Marquise might be home for the Easter holiday and join in the event.

(To Be Continued)