Changing Keys, Part 9

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Synopsis:

Jill stands up to that ghost from her past, but is that the only source of problems facing her? Some good news eases some of her fears. Thanks to Karen J and Angharad for their assistance.

Story:

Changing Keys, Part 9
By Jillian

After being led into a large room with a number of desks spread about, most of them practically buried in piles of file folders, I was introduced to Captain Gibson.

“What can I do for you?” He asked after I took a seat opposite him.

“I need to file a complaint against one of your officers, Tom Robinson.” I replied.

“What’s he done now?” he shot back, seeming agitated that he would have to deal with this situation.

“On Tuesday morning, he stopped me to issue a ticket, and while he was writing it he made numerous derogatory remarks about me.”

“In what way?”

“He referred to me as ‘faggot’ and ‘queer’, and made comments related to our shared past.” I said as I fought to keep the tears from starting.

“Shared past?”

“Yes. We went to high school together. At the time I was known as Jack Tucker. He would regularly make abusive comments toward me, bully me, and on several occasions forced me to...” I found myself unable to even say it as I broke down. I did finally get myself back under control and was able to continue, “When I tried to report the incidents to school officials, I was ignored.” I paused to take a few deep breaths.

“I was intent to let the issue of Tuesday’s incident die until tonight when I was out with some friends to listen to a band at Windham’s, that new club that just opened up. He stopped me on my way to the restrooms, cornered me, and made threatening comments while he held me against a wall. One of my friends happened to come to check on me and saw what was happening. He intervened, and the door staff escorted Tommy from the club. We immediately left and came straight here.”

“I assume you were attired as a woman when these incidents occurred?”

“Yes. I am currently being seen by a therapist and a doctor in treating my gender issues.”

“And do you have any legal ID as a woman?”

“Not yet. I have requested that my doctors fill out the appropriate forms, but paperwork takes time.”

“Don’t I know it,” the captain joked. My fears started to ease as I warmed to this genuinely nice man. “Listen Miss Tucker,” I was thrilled to hear him address me as ‘miss’, “You aren’t the first citizen to have a problem with Officer Robinson, although if I have my way, you may be the last. I can promise you disciplinary action will be taken.” He stood up from his chair, came around the desk, and sat on the edge of it right in front of me.

“I’m sorry you’ve had these problems. I can tell you that these charges are being taken seriously and his days of using his position to intimidate citizens are about to come to an end. If you have any further problems with him, call me directly.” He gave me his card after writing his private cell number on the back. “This way you can get hold of me any time, day or night.”

“Thank you sir, “ I said as I stood to leave. I reunited with everyone in the lobby and we headed for home.

“With all the excitement I didn’t get a chance to tell everyone that we got a booking while we were there tonight. Weekend after next, in fact.” Jen informed us as we were driving home.

“Cool,” said Annie.

“So how many weeks in a row do we have booked?” I asked, since it seemed I was the only one who was still in the dark about our schedule.

Shelly was the first to reply, “Well let’s see. We’re at TC’s again next weekend, Windham’s the next, then the Silo the two weekends after that and then back to TC’s.”

“Great!” I said as she rattled off the upcoming schedule. I was hoping by the time we got through those dates I might finally be back to normal in the ribcage area. They were, of course, still rather sore.

Despite my emotional exhaustion, I tossed and turned all night and I was afraid I was keeping Sarah awake in the process. That was until I noticed her snoring. Around 3am I gave up, climbed out of bed, and went in to watch some late night TV on the couch. I have no idea when I finally fell asleep, but it was late enough that I’d made it through almost all of ‘The Notebook’. I was actually surprised I fell asleep during it, considering how much it was making me cry.

After that, things more or less settled into a routine for the next few days. Electrolysis, band practice, shopping, band practice, therapy session, more band practice…nothing out of the ordinary at all; at least, until the next Thursday.

I got up and around so I could make it to my therapy session on time, and I did in spite of the awful traffic I had to navigate through on the way. Janet surprised me by being ready to see me as soon as I got there, and the first thing she did as I entered her office was hand me the forms so I could go get my driver’s license changed.

After our chat I went and stood in line at the license bureau for about an hour before I got to have my picture taken for my new license. A few minutes later, there I was, with my new license with my new name, and even marked as ‘female’. I was in shock, in a good way.

On my way home I could barely contain my excitement. I was so giddy in fact that I nearly lost control of the car a couple of times. Fortunately for me and everyone around me, I was able to keep from doing any damage to my or anyone else’s property, and when I pulled in the driveway at home, I jumped out of the car and ran inside as fast as my cute little ankle boots would take me.

“Hello? Anyone home?” I called out as soon as I was inside. Sarah made it to me first and I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed her and gave her a big kiss, then after I released her from my embrace I held out my new driver’s license and started jumping up and down with a huge smile on my face.

Jen came up to me, looked at my license, and said, “Good news. Hey, that may not be the only good news for you today.” She held up an envelope from the courthouse. “Actually, truth be told I think this could have come at pretty much any time this past week. I’d kinda forgotten to check the mail,” she said blushing. One look at the package and I knew exactly what it was. My official name change papers!

As I stood there, officially and legally Jill Tucker, female, I couldn’t help myself. I started crying at the same time I was laughing. The girls walked me to the couch where I sat down to take a few minutes to get control of my emotions.

After a few minutes I was again able to speak without breaking out in tears of joy. “Kevin works fast, I guess,” I said as I opened the envelope from the court.

“When did you apply for the name change?” Jen asked.

“Maybe I did forget to tell you about that,” I said. “Right after you talked me into joining the band, I called an old school friend who’s a lawyer now. I explained about my transition, and asked if he’d be willing to handle the name change paperwork.”

“I take it his answer was yes?” Commented Sarah.

“I didn’t expect it to come through quite so quickly. Maybe this explains why it was so easy to get my new name on my driver’s license. Kevin must’ve made sure the change was implemented in all the state’s computer systems somehow.”

Ever the practical one, Jen asked, “So how much did all this cost?”

“The filing fee was sixty, I think. Kevin filled out and filed the paperwork for free, believe it or not.”

“Good friend,” Sarah said, looking rather impressed.

“Yeah, he said he still owed me for getting him through Senior English. Now we’re even,” I said through a smile that was threatening to swallow my entire face.

Sarah threw together some lunch for all of us, and we were enjoying an early afternoon of doing absolutely nothing when the phone rang. Jen got there first and answered it.

“Hello? Yes, just a moment,” she said into the receiver. Then she turned her attention to me and said, “It’s a Captain Gibson asking to talk to you?”

I made my way to the phone and immediately took it from my sister. “Yes Captain.”

“Miss Tucker? I just wanted to call and tell you that Robinson’s initial hearing is over, and he’s been suspended pending further investigation.”

“That’s good news, right?”

“Yes it is. Now, don’t be surprised if you get a subpoena to appear before the Board of Inquiry as a witness.”

“I won’t sir. Thanks for letting me know where things stand.”

“No problem, miss.” With that, he hung up on his end. I stood there for a moment still holding the receiver to my cheek before finally lowering it into its cradle and returning to my previous activity.

“So?” Jen impatiently asked.

“Tommy’s been suspended until after a board of inquiry can hear the case. It seems I may have to testify.”

“That’s good, right?” Sarah asked.

“Of course it is,” Shelly jumped in.

I thought for a moment before adding my response. “It is as long as he doesn’t decide to come after me.”

“He wouldn’t, would he?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past him though.”

The somber mood that descended over us clung to the air for the remainder of the evening. No matter what we tried to do, it wouldn’t go away. It even followed us all to bed, as evidenced by the fact that none of us seemed able to get any sustained sleep time.

Friday morning came far too early for my tastes, but I was up anyway having spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. Sarah at least had eventually managed to drift off and not wanting to wake her, I got out of bed with as little disturbance as I could manage and found my way into the kitchen. I started a pot of coffee before stumbling into the bathroom to take my shower.

By the time I emerged, still sleepy but somewhat refreshed, Shelly had joined me in cavorting amongst the living. After I retrieved the morning paper from it’s normal resting place hidden between bushes in the front yard, we sat in the living room talking about nothing in particular and draining the contents of the coffee pot for a couple of hours before signs of life started being heard from the bedrooms.

Since we had a performance that night, we really didn’t do all that much during the day. I had managed to talk Shelly out of a session with her box of tricks, so instead of devoting the entire morning to indulging her Sadist tendencies we got to just relax.

About noon we loaded up all the equipment and hauled it to TC’s. As we were unloading the van and carrying stuff inside, I made a couple of discoveries rather quickly. The first was that my ribs were still way too sore to carry much of anything, so I was pretty much useless until it came time to actually hook stuff up. That I could do, so I did. The other was that I was still having a lot of trouble trying not to get freaked out every time I stepped out that door into the alley.

By about 1:30 we had everything hauled in, set up and ready to rock. After triple checking that we had everything we could possibly need for the evening, we headed back home to relax before we got ready for the evening’s gig. During the journey back to the house I dozed off; no doubt lack of sleep was a contributing factor in my impromptu naptime.

Unfortunately all was not peace and light when we got home. It seems someone decided to do a little volunteer landscaping while we were out. What appeared to be a truck had driven through the yard repeatedly, digging trenches with it’s tires, the end result being that what had once been my mom’s favorite perennial flower bed was now just a mess of tire ruts torn in the yard.

My list of suspects seemed to be growing exponentially, but I decided that the best course of action was to call Captain Gibson to report the incident. Operating on the assumption that this was Tommy’s handiwork, I left a message on the captain’s voicemail and then retired to my bedroom to try and nap a bit more.

After determining that my best laid plans were not to be, I gave in and got up, joining my sister, et al, in the living room.

“Couldn’t sleep?” asked Sarah as I entered the room.

“No, I must’ve used up my allocation from Mr. Sandman in the van.”

“Well then get your buns over here and keep us company,” ordered Shelly.

Not wanting to incur her wrath, I hurried along to take my place beside Sarah. “So what have you guys been up to?” I asked.

“You’re looking at it,” said my sister.

“You know, you didn’t really fill us in on what happened when you called that police captain,” Shelly blurted out.

“Didn’t I? Sorry, all I could do was leave a voicemail.”

As if on cue the phone rang. Jen answered, “Hello? Yes captain…” she held out the phone to me and I took it.

“Thanks for returning my call.”

“So someone decided to redecorate your front yard?”

“It would appear so. Whoever did it must have had a fairly big truck, judging by the size of the trenches left by their tires.”

He paused for a moment, seemingly writing something down. “I’m filling out an incident report. Unfortunately, we can’t say for certain it was Robinson’s doing, but we can at least make mention of it during your testimony. By the way, have they served your subpoena yet?”

“No, but we were out for a while this afternoon.” The doorbell rang, and Sarah got up to get it. “That may be it now,” I said to the captain.

Sarah returned with an anticipated summons to appear. “It was just delivered.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll be seeing you on Monday morning then.”

“I suppose so.”

“If there are any more problems, don’t hesitate to give me a call. Sorry I wasn’t able to take it personally this time.”

“That’s okay sir. Thank you for being so attentive. And so pleasant.”

“Not a problem.” With that he hung up, as did I. I then took a moment to look at the subpoena. It said I was to be at the courthouse on Monday morning at 9am. “I guess this means no electrolysis on Monday then,” I grinned at Shelly.

“Then I guess we‘ll just have to do an extra long session on Sunday.” After she said that, she began cackling evilly. Sometimes Shelly worried me.

Following a period of serious vegging in front of the TV and a quick bite of dinner, everyone retired to their rooms to get ready for the evening. I decided to be brave and packed my Les Paul as well as my Strat, since they sound so different from each other and added an extra guitar stand so the LP would be safe when not in use.

The half hour ride back to TC’s was uneventful, and when we arrived we all piled out of the van and made our way inside. I still suffered from a bit of anxiety as I walked across the alley on my way in, but once in the ‘dressing’ room I began to calm down considerably.

As I was unpacking my guitars and checking to make sure they were in tune, Tim the club manager came in. “Ladies, good to have you back again.”

“It’s good to be back,” Jen replied.

Shelly then asked, “How’s it look out there tonight?”

“Not bad. No records or anything, but as long as you keep ‘em here it should be a good night.”

“That’s what we do,” I said as I closed the latch on my last guitar case.

Tim looked at me for a second before commenting, “Ya know, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever actually heard you speak.” He then started laughing as he left the room to attend to other business.

Over the course of the night, I switched to the Les Paul for a few songs each set, but it was obvious to me that my ribs were still not up to the extra weight. However I did love its sound, so I suffered through the pain every once in a while when the song needed that extra beef.

By the end of the evening, I was absolutely exhausted. It was all I could do to carry my instruments back to the dressing room and put them in their cases, and I had to sit down after I did it. Maybe I was trying to do too much too fast. All I knew was that I loved playing that Gibson enough that I would need to continue working my way back to health so I could include it in my playing rotation.

Sarah, seeing just how tired I was, helped me when it was time to leave by carrying one of my cases for me. To me, that was a sign of true love.

The ride home was silent, as I think everyone was as tired as I was. We pulled in the driveway, wandered into the house, and took turns at the shower trying to wash away the bar smell. Then we gathered in the dining room for our traditional hot chocolate before heading to bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I hope I didn’t keep Sarah awake.

The next morning Shelly woke us by turning on the light and saying loudly, “I let you off yesterday. Today you’re not quite so lucky.”

I looked at her as if I was trying to cast a voodoo curse on her, but finally gave up and went and sat down at the table so she could ply her ‘trade’.

After two plus hours of aforementioned torture, I was released to get ready for the day. Upon my return Jen grabbed me and while pulling me toward the front door said, “There’s something you probably should see.”

She opened the door and I knew immediately what she was talking about. The big evergreen bushes that hid that ugly green utility company box in the middle of our yard and provided the paperboy with such an inviting target every day had been pulled out of the ground.

My first order of business was to reach for the phone. I dialed Captain Gibson’s cell number. He answered on the second ring, “Hello?”

“Captain Gibson? This is Jill Tucker.”

“Please, call me Gerry.”

“Okay. I’m sorry to bother you again, but last night we had a little more trouble.”

“What happened this time?”

“Some bushes in our front yard were pulled out of the ground somehow.”

“He’s persistent, I’ll give him that. Stupid, but persistent.”

For some reason this brought to mind one of my mother’s favorite sayings; ‘the persistent shall inherit the Earth’. I always thought she meant it as an important life lesson, but wasn’t sure exactly why it jumped in my head at that precise moment. Returning to the moment, I asked, “Is there anything we can do to stop this?”

“Let me call a judge to get a restraining order against him. Then, if he should decide to play vandal anymore we can pick him up for violating that order.”

“Okay. Listen, Gerry? Thanks.” I said as I hung up the phone.

The remainder of the day was uneventful other than my attempts to replant the bushes, as was the gig that evening. We were well received, played pretty well, and I even felt a little less tired than the night before. All in all, it turned out to be a good night.

Since I wasn’t really able to do any lifting I was relegated to cord duty, gathering and wrapping up all the assorted cables we had strewn across the stage and packing them away in the old duffel bag we used for such things. I did carry a few smaller things out to the van, but I was regretting that decision by the time I got out there and was grateful that once again the door staff offered to help with the really big stuff.

As had become something of a tradition for us, after arriving home we all showered and had a cup or three of hot chocolate before turning in.

For reasons beyond my comprehension I woke up early Sunday morning, so I went outside and picked up the paper from where it had nearly knocked over one of the bushes I had just replanted the day before. Once inside I put on the coffee and started thumbing through the news.

Everyone gradually emerged from their hibernation and joined me in a leisurely morning with the paper and coffee. It wasn’t until afternoon that Shelly decided it was time for another session with her face charger, so I wound up attached to a chair for much of the afternoon while she tested my pain threshold. We ordered in pizza for dinner and spent the evening watching movies before everyone decided to turn in early.

I was awakened Monday morning by the unfamiliar strains of the alarm clock bellowing out it declaration that it was time to get up. I fumbled my way into the kitchen to start the coffee, then to the bathroom for a shower, which I hoped would help me achieve consciousness. Fortunately for me, and all those involved in my upcoming day, said shower did the trick and I was feeling almost human by the time I poured myself a mug of that wondrous black liquid.

Sarah arose shortly after I did and commandeered the shower as soon as I vacated it since she had planned on accompanying me to the courthouse. We managed to get ourselves ready and out the door before 8:30 and since we didn’t encounter any major catastrophes on the way we were able to find a parking space within walking distance and got to our assigned hearing room with minutes to spare.

On our arrival Captain Gibson greeted us. “Ladies, thank you for coming this morning.”

“Hopefully we can achieve some good today,” I said as I tried to project as much confidence as possible.

“Your testimony will just be the icing on the cake,” he said. I hoped he was right.

Precisely at 9 o’clock the door opened and we were ushered in to take seats in the gallery. By the time we had settled in, the door was closed and a panel came in through another door behind a long raised desk. Once they were seated, the man in the middle, who wore a police dress uniform much like the one Captain Gibson had on this morning, banged a gavel.

“This meeting of the Board of Inquiry is hereby reconvened in the matter of Patrolman Thomas Robinson’s fitness to continue as an officer of the court and member in good standing of the police force of this fair municipality,” he intoned, sounding extremely important.

“We have previously examined extensive evidence and heard from the defendant’s representatives by way of cross examination thereof. We now wish to hear the testimony of one of the plaintiff’s whose charges are under consideration. We therefore call to the stand Jill Tucker.”

I rose from my seat and walked, more slowly than I think I ever did before, toward the witness table. My feet felt like they were encased in lead, and I don’t think I was ever more glad than when I finally made it to the chair and took a seat.

Someone held out a bible in front of me and uttered those words we always hear in the movies. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

Notes:

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Comments

Very Sweet

Thank you Jillian for this Chapter of Changing Keys. Jillian got a much deserved break from bad things (not including the front yard landscaping). Jill appears more at ease being herself in this chapter than she has in the previous ones. It is like she is finally starting to get in tune with herself to make her actions and thoughts match her soul. I found that very satisfying watching her bloom in this serial.

Please keep up your fantastic work Jillian. You write very well and am itching to see more of your thoughts put down into words :)

Sephrena Miller

Oh the humanity

What a cruel place to end an excerpt. Another fine continuation. Please hurry I have got to find out what happens. I will be sitting on pins and needles till you continue.

Love,

Paula

When the lines between reality and fantasy blur, true magic can begin.

Paula

Seek freedom and become captive of your desires. Seek discipline and find your liberty.

The Coda
Chapterhouse: Dune

Did I miss an investigation...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... of the vandalism? Did the police check to see if Tommy owned a truck? Were tire tread casts made? Etc. I would think there would have to be some actual evidence that Tommy might be responsible before a restraining order would be issued. As is, it reads as if the police are just assuming he did it. Great story so far, looking forward to future episodes.

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

A couple of minor points ...

... to mention, but before I do thanks for another interesting episode with a low cliff hanger :o) to get us ready for the next episode.

Firstly, in the firt interview with with Captain Gibson there's no mention of any official complaint being put in writing and the scene is described as continuous time. Obviously the Police Captain must have made notes as he calls Jill to give evidence in Tommy's hearing. Do diciplinary hearing really happen so quickly in the USA? It seems to take months over here.

Secondly I have a couple of first hand experiences of cracked/broken ribs and the description of Jill's injuries don't really fit with either of them. I found that broken ribs don't hurt too much, unless you make an inadvertent wrong move ... and then the pain is indescribably extreme. It took me ages to get out of bed in the morning. Every move was carefully thought out. A false move resulted in agony with no initial warning. It was either OK or like hell on earth. I was on a dinghy racing holiday and found I could sail OK if I wore a buoyancy aid tightly laced; it made me careful not to capsize, but I managed to win the final regatta.

Many thanks for this enjoyable story. As I said, my points are quite minor and detract little from the story as a whole.

That's nice...

erin's picture

...but tell me, where do you wear a regatta? I just never seem to find a formal enough occasion to wear mine. :) Especially not with the finial.

As for disciplinary hearings, it really varies a lot by location in the US.

Good story, Jillian, BTW.

Hugs,
Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

Wearing regattas

Erin not sure where you get regatta wearing from in my post, but ... I'm wearing a pair right now. Regatta trousers, that is, and I have a Regatta fleece too. Regatta is an inexpensive (spelt c-h-e-a-p) brand of outdoor clothing over here. I buy nearly all my outer clothes from outdoor or charity shops - even I draw the line at secondhand underwear. btw I'm English; it's not only the Scots who are careful (spelt m-e-a-n) with their hard earned.

Geoff :)

Spelled tite

erin's picture

My father had a reputation for being what was known as "tight" in Arkansas. The expression was that "he makes every buffalo", um, defecate. :) American Bison, or "buffaloes" used to appear on the five-cent piece, aka the nickle, (because they are made of nickel, notice how it's spilt, er, spelled). Come to think of it, the bison are back on the back of the modern nickle.

Americans seemed to have settled on spelled and spilled instead of spelt and spilt about the time I got out of junior high school. Nowadays, spelt is the kind of wheat that health food bread is made of. :)

And this relates to Jillian's story, not very much at all unless we can put it to music and have the characters sing it. Altogether, a one, a two....

- Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

It's Safe to Say...

...that the timeframe for the complaint and hearing have been greatly compressed, for the sake of telling the story. I didn't really think anyone would be interested in dragging this out weeks or months, as would be the case in the real world.

As for the injuries, I've never had cracked ribs. I have had muscle pulls, and while I know the pain is nowhere near the same, that's what I had to draw upon. I know from experience that the weight of a Les Paul...which is a thick slab of mahogony and maple...is enough more than a Strat...usually a thinner alder or basswood body instrument...that it can have an effect on your back, shoulders, and abdominal muscles. So ya caught me :)

Never let it be said that I don't enjoy the occasional delusion of grandeur

Never let it be said that I don't enjoy the occasional delusion of grandeur

This Is fast becoming one of my all-time favs

Frank's picture

And having read many 100's of stories since the 1990's that's saying something. I look forward to the new chapters and look for one every day!

I would be interested in more back history/experiences of the sisters and the mother from hell. Also more sister only scenes would be cool too...

Don't get me wrong, it's your story to tell and I have NO complaints :)

Wolf-Pup ^oo^<-b>

Hugs

Frank

Another great one

Hope Eternal Reigns's picture

Thanks Jill. Now just before I get into ALL the mistakes you made, I would like to say that I like this story.

Now to the mistakes; 1. You use far too may 'e's. Try saying things like, "A big black bitch (female dog) bit Barry badly." As you observe there are no 'e's in that sentence, well except for the expanatory parenthetic comment. 2. 'b's are important to make the reader feel emphasis on certain key phrases. (See previous example.) 3. Onomatopoeia (goddess I love to say that word.) know it and use it. Interesting that 'onomatopoeia' isn't onomatopoeia, oh well it is a good word anyway. Why do you think "Batman" was so successful?
.
.
.

I could go on in this way forever but I think you see my point.

Thank you.

with love, (and a hint of humour)

HER

with love,

Hope

Once in a while I bare my soul, more often my soles bear me.