Has Jill seen the last of that ghost from her past? As she tries to find her way she encounters another hiccup. Thanks to Karen J and Angharad for their invaluable assistance.

Changing Keys, Part 8
By Jillian

Tommy had me pinned against the wall off in a corner beside the restrooms. “Where you think you’re going, faggot?”

“Sorry Tommy, I’m late for class.”

“You ain’t gettin’ away that easy. In there,” he pushed me into the boy’s room as he said it, following behind me.

As I was led into the big handicapped stall I pleaded, “Please? If I get another tardy I’ll have to do an in school suspension.”

“So? That’ll give ya time to do my homework for me, won’t it?” He undid his fly and pushed me to my knees in front of him.

I tried to allow my mind to wander anywhere but here as I did as he bade…

I woke up from my nightmare needing to visit the little girl’s room, so I carefully disentangled myself from Sarah trying not to wake her in the process, then stumbled my way toward the facilities. On my return trip I noticed Jen sitting up in the living room reading. I joined her on the sofa and said, “I think I owe you an apology.”

She looked up from her book, removing her reading glasses and saying, “I’m sure you do for something, but would you care to enlighten me as to what you’re apologizing for? Just so I can keep track.”

“I probably should have asked you before inviting Sarah to live here. I’m sorry.”

She closed her book and said, “Oh, that. No biggie. I mean, it’s as much your house as it is mine.”

“Only because you gave it to me.”

“Is it your fault mom was a pig? I don’t think so.”

“Still, I guess I should have let you know beforehand.”

“That’s not what’s really bothering you, is it?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Okay then, spill time. What’s wrong?”

I closed my eyes for a moment before I spoke again. “Running into Tommy Robinson really shook me up.” I then opened my eyes again to look at Jen before I continued, “It dredged up a lot of feelings I had thought I’d buried a long time ago. And now I’m feeling like I need to constantly look over my shoulder to make sure another ghost from the past doesn’t rear its head.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s perfectly understandable.”

“But that doesn’t make it acceptable, does it? How can I get on with my life if I keep running into people and things that make me relive awful moments I’d much rather forget?”

“But you can’t forget them. And for that matter, you shouldn’t. Those things, as bad as the memories are, helped shape you. They made you the person you are now, and they will continue to influence your life, helping you make decisions,” she paused for a second before adding, “Those things are a big part of you. You don’t want to lose them.”

“What if I said I did? What if I wanted to start over with an absolute clean slate? No baggage, no preconceptions, nothing. Like I was born yesterday.”

“Sorry sis, but it can’t be done. And it shouldn’t.”

As I sat there I saw a tear roll out of Jen’s eye, then another and another. I then realized that I too was crying again.

Jen was first to get her eyes back under control, and said, “You are such a chick!” She then started to giggle.

I looked at her and my tears began to dry up, replaced by a soft chuckle that grew into a giggle, until my ribcage reminded me that it still wasn’t better yet. Once I was back under control, I said, “Thanks sis.”

She began to look more seriously at me and asked, “So what are you going to do about this little problem with officer jerk off?”

“What’s to do? I’m not really in a position to be able to press the issue, am I? If I make a fuss, he probably won’t be the only one treating me like that. Hopefully, if I let the whole mess drop, it’ll go away. I just have to avoid running into one Tommy Robertson is all.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you’d be well within your rights to file a complaint against him.”

“I just can’t imagine any good coming from something like that. If it becomes a more frequent occurrence, that would be a different story, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose I see where you’re coming from with that. But if it happens again and you try to let it slide, I’ll kick your butt myself, understand?”

“Yes,” I allowed resignedly. Then I brightened a bit and added, “Thanks again.”

She slipped her glasses back on and as she was opening her book back up, she said, “Any time.”

I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then left her to her date with Ann Rice and returned to bed.

I must have fallen back asleep straight away because the next thing I remember is Sarah nibbling my earlobe in an attempt to wake me. I moaned, part in pleasure and part in frustration, as she continued her ministrations until I finally stirred.

“About time you woke up. Much longer and you would’ve had a little hicky on your ear,” she teased.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I responded as I rolled out of bed and ran for the bathroom in search of a hot shower.

She chased after me saying, “What do you mean, ‘wouldn’t be the first time’?” I swear for a moment she sounded rather jealous. Part of me really liked that.

I was in the shower with the water running already before I replied, “When I was younger I had this little kitten that wasn’t completely weaned when I got her. She was very clingy, and in fact sometimes as I slept she’d climb up onto my shoulder and suckle on my earlobe. Other than the hicky, I thought it was adorable, except for the times she got her teeth caught in my earring hole,” I couldn’t help myself and started giggling as I remembered the incident.

“Oh, that’s cute. Whatever happened to her?”

“She ran off a few years ago when I was out on the road for the first time. Jen looked for her and so did I once I got back in town, but we never found her again. I cried like a baby for days after, much to my mother’s ire. She was always giving me a hard time because I wasn’t exactly a manly man.” I turned off the shower and opened the curtain while reaching for a towel. “Jen says she just thinks the cat couldn’t stand living with our mother.”

Sarah handed me one and said, “Poor baby, though from what I’ve heard about the woman, your sister might be right. Have you thought about getting another kitten now that you’re not going to be traveling so much?”

As I dried myself off I thought for a moment before replying, “I don’t know. Roxy was such a special kitty to me, I don’t think I could ever just replace her like that.”

“So it’s not just guitars you get all possessive about, huh?”

“Nope. You’d best get used to it,” I said as I tried to steal a kiss. It didn’t matter to me that her mouth was full of toothpaste. She allowed a quick smooch before returning to the task of getting herself ready for the day. She climbed in the shower while I brushed my teeth, then we both found our way back to the bedroom to get dressed.

When we joined Jen in the kitchen for breakfast I found out that today we were going to go check out the new Guitar Center that had just opened in our area. “Great,” I said when she informed me, “I need some new strings anyway.”

Just then, Shelly came in toting her little box of horrors and I wound up getting zapped for about an hour before we could get ready to leave for the music store. As she was putting her toy away, Jen asked, “You coming with us?”

Shelly looked at Jen and asked, “Where?”

“Guitar Center!” Jen and I answered in unison, then started giggling.

“Cool,” she replied.

We came to the conclusion that it might be fun to get a little more dressed up before we went, just to sort of play with the store’s sales staff. After all, they would all be younger guys, mostly single, and susceptible to influence at the hands of a pretty girl. So while Jen and Shelly got ready, Sarah and I returned to the bedroom so we could change into something a little more task appropriate.

Once everyone was ready, we all piled into Shelly’s van and made the trek to Musician’s Mecca.

I should probably point out that for musicians, and in particular guitar players, Guitar Center is the biggest and most powerful store chain in the industry, sort of like Macy’s, but instead of clothes they sell instruments and accessories.

In my previous life I probably would have made this journey in whatever I happened to pull out of the closet…probably just jeans and a t-shirt…but since I began my transition I had started to understand a bit more about the power women have in the marketplace. That’s why we all dressed up a bit more than was probably necessary. Short skirts, nice tops, heels and just the right touch of makeup was in evidence all around as we walked into their huge showroom.

As we dispersed, sales staff were on us like vultures on fresh road kill, and who could blame them? A bunch of young guys standing around a music store might be used to seeing other young…and not so young…guys coming in to ogle the merchandise, but they certainly wouldn’t be used to seeing many girls, especially dressed up like we were. This meant we had everyone’s attention in a big way.

The fact that none of us were here to buy anything more than some guitar strings or drumsticks didn’t matter; the rarity of a bunch of girls who not only knew what they were doing, but also dressed up was enough to ensure the finest service ever rendered in that fine establishment, and we knew that would be the case. That’s why we did it.

I’ve never deluded myself with thoughts that I was anything more than just a passable woman. Jen on the other hand had maintained the striking good looks we had inherited from mom, and on more than a few occasions she had been said to look like a young Elizabeth Taylor. Ah, if only…

As my sister and I made our way to the guitar wall, we were practically assaulted by this kid barely out of high school wearing a nametag that declared him to be ‘Mark’. He was obviously new…it was a newly opened store after all…and was still a bit lost amongst the myriad of toys about which he was expected to have expert knowledge.

It might have been a bit evil, but we monopolized that poor kid’s time for nearly an hour just trying out guitars, amps, and effects before finally heading over to the accessory counter to pick out a few sets of strings. I liked Mark. He made an effort to actually be of help, which frankly set him apart from most music store staff I’d dealt with over the years. In a way I felt rather guilty for not buying a big ticket item, but at least we bought enough strings for them to add up to a little bit of a commission.

After we retrieved Shelly from the drum room where she was playing with the electronic kits we all went in search of Sarah, who we found in the keyboard room playing with a Korg Triton 88 key workstation. When she saw us she bid farewell to the keyboard salesman and joined us on our way out the door, looking back wistfully at that big silver machine. At least I knew for certain she understood about my attachment to guitars.

We decided that a bit of clothes shopping was in order, and even though none of us had the money to really buy much, we spent a ridiculous amount of time browsing and trying things on. Following a quick bite of early dinner, we all went back to the house for an evening in with DVD’s and popcorn.

At bedtime, as Sarah and I were getting changed she blurted out, “How can you let him get away with treating you like that?”

I stood there a moment before responding, “If you didn’t know me and you heard that I was filing a complaint against a police officer, who would you be inclined to believe more, the cop or the tranny who’s never held a real job?”

“I guess when you put it that way…” she let the thought drift away unfinished as we crawled into bed. Within seconds her arms were wrapped around me, and for the first time since we got up that morning I felt completely safe.

Thursday morning meant another appointment with Janet. This time Sarah volunteered to do the driving, for which I was extremely grateful as I was terrified of a repeat performance of Tuesday. We sat there in the waiting room flipping through the painfully outdated magazines until I was led back for my appointment. I sort of felt sorry for Sarah, leaving her there in the waiting room with nothing by those ancient Redbooks and Cosmos. Ah well, I suppose she would have to make do.

Janet was already in her office when I was led in, and before I could even take a seat she had come around from behind her desk and taken a seat in one of the big armchairs. For the briefest of moments I toyed with the idea of sitting down behind the desk, but then sanity once again took control of my mind and I sat down in the armchair opposite the doctor.

“How have you been?” she began immediately.

“I’ve been worse,” I replied. “I’ve been better as well, but…”

“Anything you’d like to start with?”

“Well, on my way home from here on Tuesday I was a bit spaced out as I was driving and the next thing I knew I was being pulled over for speeding.”

“I imagine that was fairly traumatic given your legal identity.”

“You can say that again. It was only made worse by the fact that the officer involved knew me back in school. Very well.”

“As in…?”

“As in he had been abusive toward me both verbally and physically on a semi regular basis all through high school.”

“So what happened?”

“He made a slew of derogatory comments along the lines of ‘queer’ and ‘faggot’, wrote me a ticket and left. By that time I was in tears, and it was quite a while before I was able to get myself back under control enough to drive the rest of the way home.”

“Did you file a complaint against him? That would be well within your rights.”

“I know that in the eyes of the law we’re all equal and all that. But in the real world it doesn’t always work that way. If I do anything like that it won’t only be him giving me a hard time. I’ll have the entire police force out gunning for me. I just can’t do that. I can’t put my friends and family through that.”

She sat there writing a note to herself before she continued, “I can see your point, but I want your assurance that if you have any more problems with this particular officer you’ll file a complaint against him.”

“My sister already made me promise,” I said, smiling as I did so.

The remainder of the session was spent talking about how I reached the conclusion that this was the right path for me. When my hour was up, I was ushered back out to the waiting room where I rejoined Sarah and we left hand in hand for our return trip home.

The rest of the day was devoted to band rehearsal, which was uneventful other than for the fact that I found I had to sit through much of it because of my ribs hurting when I stood up holding my guitar. I knew it would definitely be a while before my Les Paul saw a stage again.

Friday started much like many other of my days had of late because I was once again at the mercy of Marquis Shelly de Sade and her special toy box. I swore afterward that if she tried to tell me this project was almost finished one more time I might have to use her machine on her in an area that would be at least as sensitive as the face. For once she heeded my warning and didn’t say it.

It was late afternoon when Jen asked, “Hey, anybody want to go out tonight?”

Shelly was the first to respond, “Well yeah! Where’d you want to go?”

“I’d heard about this new club I thought we could check out, maybe even sit in and then talk to the owner about bookings,” she said by way of reply.

That was my sister, always working. She called Annie to fill her in on the plans and we all set about getting ready for an evening out.

To say I was apprehensive would be an understatement. I’d never really enjoyed going to clubs. In fact, I used to joke that the only way to get me in one was to pay me to be there. Everyone would laugh when I said it, but that was really the way I felt about it. Sarah on the other hand was really excited by the prospect, so I did my level best to make sure I didn’t act as a wet rag.

As I was putting the finishing touches on my face, Annie and her husband arrived at the house so we could all ride together in the van. Apparently parking where we were going was atrocious, so ride sharing was a necessity.

Since I was the last one ready, once I emerged from the bathroom we all headed directly to the ‘Starlust-mobile’ as it was sometimes jokingly called. Shelly had even gone to the trouble of getting personalized tags that said ‘STRLST’ on them.

The drive to this new place didn’t take long, and as we pulled into a parking space, Jen spoke up, “Okay, any volunteers for designated driver?”

“I’ll do it,” I offered. I was never much of a drinker anyway, so nursing diet cokes all night was fine by me.

There was quite the line outside the club. It extended halfway around the block, in fact. Fortunately it was relatively warm out for that time of year, and the line was moving rather quickly. As we approached the door however, I began to get nervous.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked when she noticed me being a bit upset.

“I just remembered my ID,” I said by way of explanation.

“Don’t sweat it. Most of the time they don’t even check girls,” she said trying to ease my fears. To a certain extent, it worked.

She was of course right and we sailed through the door with little more than a collection of leers from the door staff. We found our way down front to a big table and everyone took seats. Before we were even completely settled, the waitress was there to take our orders. I was actually impressed. This looked like a very nice place.

Jen leaned over to me and spoke into my ear, “Look who’s playing?”

As she pointed to the stage I saw my friend Mike up there wailing away. As he ended his solo, he smiled and winked at me so I waved back. At least I knew I had one friend besides the girls.

The end of the set came and Mike made his way directly to our table where he promptly asked as he took a seat beside me, “How come you didn’t bring all these girls around when you were a guy?”

“They knew I was hanging out with you and probably didn’t want to get groped by a lecherous toad,” popped out of my mouth before I knew it. He looked at me and I turned as red as a stop sign. That broke the silence as everyone broke out in a fit of laughter.

The waitress brought over a beer for Mike, for which he thanked her. Once his attention had returned to our table he asked, “You ladies want to sit in? It’s a safe bet that the guys wouldn’t mind taking a few songs extra break.”

Jen jumped in, “Sure!”

“Okay, let me go arrange it. You can start the next set.” With that he was up and on his way to confer with his cohorts.

“What do you want to play?” asked Annie.

“Why don’t we start with ‘A Change Will Do You Good’, then something like ‘Wonder’ before Jill does ‘Lenny’? Then we can finish with ‘Politics of Love’,” suggested Shelly. By the time Mike returned to confirm that we would start off the set, everyone had agreed to the song order and all that was left was to get up and do it.

A few minutes later we were climbing on stage. When the crowd noticed the band was different…and all girls…we had their complete attention. Jen approached the mic and said, “Hi, we’re ‘Starlust’ and Mike and the rest of the guys have been kind enough to let us come up and play a few songs for you tonight.” She then turned away from the mic and said loud enough for all of us to hear, “One-two-three-four!”

We started into the song, and everything just seemed to fall right into place. The more we played this one the more I liked it, which I guess is understandable since I really like pretty much everything I’ve heard by Sheryl Crow. By the time the song was over the crowd was really into it and their applause at the end was warm and loud. If anything, the Natalie Merchant tune went over even better than Sheryl Crow had and by it’s end they were practically on their feet.

Next up of course was my solo, which I started into before the applause died down. Once they realized I was playing the audience quieted down fairly quickly so they could listen. I had their complete attention by the time the rest of the band came in, and by the time I had finished with the statement of the ‘melody’ you could have heard a pin drop if we had stopped playing suddenly.

I played my heart out on that song and by it’s end felt completely exhausted. I know Jen realized just how tired I was because she took a moment to do the emcee thing, which gave me a moment to catch my breath.

“We’d like to thank Mike and the guys, the management, and of course all of you for permitting us to share with you these last few songs. We’d like to close with one from our CD. It’s called ‘Politics of Love’.” Shelly counted us in and we tore into it. She must have been channeling John Bonham or something because the drums sounded huge. The song grooved along like any good Led Zeppelin song would as we played out on an extended guitar solo once the lyrics were over.

The crowd seemed to love us, at least if the enthusiasm and volume of the applause was any indication. Mike’s band came up to replace us and we left the stage, returning to our table where the waitress had delivered a free round of drinks.

We sat through Mike’s band’s set and I don’t think it was an exaggeration to say that we got a much better response from the crowd. As they were finishing up their set, Jen and Shelly took out to try and find the owner or manager about possibly booking us. Sarah, Annie and Frank, and I remained at the table and were shortly joined once again by my buddy Mike. He complimented us profusely on our set and we chatted about this and that and nothing at all for a while until I found that I needed a visit to the little girls’ room.

I excused myself, winding my way through the throng of people until I got near the restrooms. That’s when one of my worst nightmares became reality once again.

“Hey faggot, the men’s room is that way,” slurred none other than an extremely drunk Tommy Robinson.

“Please leave me alone Tommy,” I asked him as pleasantly as I could.

He backed me into a dark corner by the restroom door and blocked me in with his body. “You know you’ll never get away with it,” he snarled, trying to sound intimidating. It worked.

“With what? What am I trying to get away with?” I had a fair idea what he was meaning, but wanted him to confirm it for me because I had just decided to file that complaint against him. I most assuredly was going to include this encounter.

“With this lie you’re livin’, that’s what,” he said. “You’re goin’ ‘round tryin’ to convince the world you’re a woman when you’re not.” The more he spoke, the more scared I became. Somehow that just deepened my resolve.

“I’m not lying to anyone. I’m not hurting anyone either,” I said, summoning every ounce of courage I could muster.

Just then someone tapped him on the shoulder, to which Tommy turned around. It was Mike. After he knew he had Tommy’s attention, he said, “You’re bothering the lady.”

“That’s no lady! That’s just a queer in a dress…”

“I know exactly who and what she is. She’s a lady and you need to leave her alone.”

“And just who’s gonna make me?”

Mike was then joined by a couple of his band mates followed up shortly by some of the door staff, who escorted Mr. Robinson from the premises.

As Tommy was being led away Mike turned back to me and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Just a little shaken, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Mike led me back to my table, asking along the way, “Who was that guy anyway?”

As I sat down at the table I said, “Just a ghost from the past.”

Jen hadn’t been aware of what had transpired just then and she stared at me trying to coax information out of me.

Mike looked at me for a moment before saying, “If you’re sure?” He then headed back up on stage for their next set.

Before the band started back in, Jen looked at everyone in our party and said, “I think it’s time for us to go.” She stood up as a sign to the others that she was serious and we should all follow, period. Surprisingly, there was very little resistance to the idea and in very little time we were all walking out the door and piling into the van.

Jen looked at me standing beside the driver’s door and said, “I don’t think you’re in any better shape to drive than the rest of us.” I don’t think I could have argued the point at that moment, not the least reason being that I was still an emotional wreck following my latest run in with our local constabulary.

“Are you okay to drive?” I asked my sister.

“Yeah. All I had was a wine cooler. I’ll be fine.”

I went around and took the front passenger seat while Jen climbed into the driver’s. “I have a stop I need to make, if that’s all right,” I said.

Jen didn’t even ask where I meant. She just drove us directly to the police station. When we got there, we all got out of the van and went inside, where I headed straight for the desk.

“Excuse me sir. Who do I see about filing a complaint against one of your officers?”