Whatever happened to Aaron Smith? - Chapter 5 of 19

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I sat in the back of the squad car as it drove us to the station. Luckily with my small size it wasn't as cramped as it could be otherwise.

"You need to let my parents know where I am."

"They will be meeting us at the station."

"Guys, I never left the hospital."

"We'll let the lawyers deal with that. Can you quiet down please?"

I sat quietly for the rest of the trip. When we got to the station, they ushered me up the stairs and into a room with a couple of chairs and a small table.

They left me there, alone, for what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only ten minutes or so. My lawyer, Mr. Davies, came in.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was expecting…Aaron? That's your braid, but what happened to you, kid?"

"Apparently I'm a girl."

"I know you were supposed to go out as one…"

"No, I'm actually a girl. Breasts and ovaries, even if I have a penis."

"Breasts?"

"I was binding them down until a couple of days ago–trying to appear more male."

"Well, you certainly don't look male now."

"I blame a friend of mine. She thinned out my eyebrows."

"That would do part of it. I think that just helped the other features you have to fall into place. Or is it something else?…you're sitting a little straighter as well. You're more relaxed in your posture at the same time, if that's understandable."

I shook my head.

"You always seemed like you were…waiting for the other shoe to drop; waiting for the sky to fall down; waiting for something to happen–something bad."

"Something always happens."

"But now you're relaxed about it."

"Look, can you get me out of here. I'm outside of my house as a female, wearing a bra and all, so, technically I'm no longer in violation of the terms of my confinement."

"You're wearing a bra?"

"Didn't you notice the breasts?"

"Um, right. Okay. I make it a habit not to ogle my under-age client's breasts, or any of my client's breasts for that matter. The fact that you have them has not been something I've been paying attention to. Give me a minute."

"All right."

I sort of tuned him out. There was so much for me to consider. I was a girl now, for better or worse. With it would come all of the problems that were associated with being a girl, but the bonuses too, I guess. The problem really was that I simply didn't know who I was as a person, male or female.

Who did I want to be?

Or should I just be myself?

"Well, the Judge wants to see you for himself. Since I told him it wouldn't be fair to keep you here, I'm going to be driving you over to his house."

"Okay, well, let's go then."

"It's not quite that easy. The Judge will contact the prosecutor's office, who will contact the police. At that point you will be released and we can go to the Judge's house."

"Okay. Gives me more time to think, I guess."

Who did I want to be when I grew up?

While I'd been beating up everyone and everything in sight, I hadn't cared much about my future. It could happen or not. I simply wanted to make it through another day. That feeling that drove me to fight was still there, but I finally felt that I might be able to work through it, with Theresa's help. I liked talking to her.

Maybe helping other people would be my calling in life. The problem with that was I wasn't patient enough to just sit there and listen to them. I needed to experience some more of life before I could really come to a decision on what I wanted to be.

As I let my mind wander, I found myself focusing more and more on the handsome, and intelligent, Shawn. I was so broken inside that it hurt me to think about him, knowing that someone like him would never really want to be with someone like me. The fantasy was pleasant as far as fantasies go, but there was no future for us.

I wasn't even sure if there was a future for me with anyone.

I was waffling between self-loathing and a tenuous hope for the future.

More of the same sorts of phrases went over and again through my mind. It was boring, and I've wasted enough print on it–even if it was very important to me at the time.

When the officer finally came and let me out of the interrogation room–as that's what I assumed it was–I was more than ready to move on.

Mr. Davies lead me out to his car, and we went for another short drive. The house we pulled up in front of was a modest ranch-style home–someplace I'd expect a banker or an accountant to live. Judges were supposed to be rich, weren't they?

We went up the cobblestoned walk and rang the bell. The Judge's wife answered the door.

"Mrs. Anderson, we're here to see the Judge."

"Come in, Mr. Davies. My husband still talks about getting you on the right side of the bench some day."

"I'm not ready to be a judge when people like Aaron here still need my help."

"From what I hear, my husband has been doing a lot of helping himself."

"Not enough, but yes, he has helped."

"That's a matter of opinion, Michael."

"Judge."

"At home, call me Harold. So, Aaron, you're a girl? You aren't wearing the apparel I specified."

"Judge Anderson, it goes beyond clothing. I'm actually a girl. Physically I mean."

"Step into the hall, child, let me get a look at you."

I stepped into his entryway so that I would be more fully in the light. He put on a pair of glasses and started to look me up and down. I didn't feel anything in the gaze, just a sort of appraising study, so it didn't make me feel the way some men had in the past.

"Well, I will have to admit to being blind before, Aaron. Although, if you're female, then I'm going to have to call you something else, aren't I?"

"AJ is what she's currently…"

"Anne-Jeanette, Judge Anderson. I'm Anne-Jeanette Smith."

"Same initials, I see. Well, if your lawyer will write up the paperwork, and you can present my office with medical proof, then I'll get your status changed. This doesn't change the terms of your punishment, Anne-Jeanette."

"Doesn't a bra count?"

"Not unless it's visible, and no that wasn't an invitation."

"But Judge Anderson…"

"Anne-Jeanette. I must stick by the letter of the punishments that I hand down. From what I hear, you never left the hospital?"

"No, Judge Anderson. Not until the officers arrested me."

"Then I see no reason to hold you."

"Judge Anderson? I have no feminine clothing at home. If I have to wear feminine clothing to go buy feminine clothing…"

"I'll let the monitors know that you will be allowed to go to the mall tomorrow. If you allow someone from child protective services to come in the day after and verify that you no longer have any male clothing, then we can loosen the restrictions."

"But…I'll be leaving the house as a girl."

"True, but part of the requirement was that you do so, not plan to do so. As long as we have no reason to assume you are breaking the terms, and as long as you send a picture of you wearing your outfit for the day, I see no reason for you not to be allowed to come and go as you wish."

That was fair, considering I could be in Juvie again.

"Thank you, Judge Anderson."

"You're welcome, Anne-Jeanette."

"Let's get you home, AJ."

Once again into Mr. Davies' car and we were on my way home.

We arrived home to see a strange car in the driveway. So much had happened to me this afternoon that I'd completely forgotten that Mr. Smoot had planned to stop by with the information for my Chemistry class.

As soon as we entered the house, and I heard voices in the living room, I called out. "I'm so sorry it's so late, Mr. Smoot. I'm a bit of an airhead today, and I got myself arrest…"

The person in the living room was Shawn, and not Mr. Smoot. I stood there with my mouth wide open. When everyone started laughing, I closed it with a snap.

"If you'd prefer Benjamin to finish your lesson for you, then I can always call him in here, but he figured that I would be a better choice, since it was more my lesson than his."

"No, I'm okay with you finishing the lesson." Sometimes the moment is enough to destroy all doubts you have, and I was smiling so much it hurt. I really didn't care.

My parents and Shawn laughed at me, but he finished up the lesson anyway.

After he was done, the four of us were sitting around the living room and just talking. It was a little weird, I guess, but I wasn't complaining.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Shawn, this all seems rather convenient: Mr. Smoot being your cousin and all."

"Well, he is my cousin, but we're not that closely related. In genealogical terms we're fifth cousins once removed."

"Which means?"

"It means that his great-great-great-great-grandfather was my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather."

"How many years ago was he alive?"

"That relative died just under a hundred years ago. He was sixty-four at the time. I met Benjamin at a Smoot family reunion. It's a pretty big affair if you can imagine. Before we met there, neither of us knew the other, and it came as a surprise that we lived in the same city."

"How many people go to those?"

"To give you some idea, the reunion was in England. Apparently more of them live there."

I gave him a blank look.

"The first of us moved to the US in 1830."

My jaw dropped. "People have reunions for stuff like that?"

"Apparently the family made a promise to meet together once every ten years. Only one of the sons came to the US, the other four children stayed in the UK."

"That is so cool. I don't think I ever met my grandparents."

Mom and dad were looking a little uncomfortable, so I changed the subject. Dad was a little touchy where his parents were concerned. Mom grew up in the system after her family died in a car accident.

"So, it's late, and I have a wardrobe to get tomorrow."

"Wardrobe?" mom asked.

"Oh, yeah, the Judge authorized me to go shopping for more appropriate clothing."

Shawn looked at me a little strangely, but didn't pry. I really didn't want to tell him the truth. The longer I could go without saying anything, the more of the fantasy I would get to live. Eventually I'd have to tell him, and then it would all end, but for now I wanted to be selfish and make some memories.

"Well, Shawn, it's a school night for our daughter. We appreciated having you here tonight, and thank you for finishing your lesson."

"Night, Shawn," I said.

"Night, AJ. Night Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

"Good night, Shawn."

My dad escorted him to the door while my mom looked at me. She wanted to ask a question, but she was waiting for my dad to get back before she did.

I decided now was a great time for a frontal attack.

"Hey, mom? Is my porcelain doll still in the attic?"

"Your…oh. AJ. Anne-Jeanette. That's where it came from. Yes, she's still there."

"Can I have her back please?"

"She's yours. Of course you can have her back."

"I want her back on the shelf above the window."

"What made you think of her, Aaron?"

"Please, mom. Can you call me AJ?"

"Or Anne-Jeanette?"

I nodded and smiled.

"I forgot for a moment. This is so strange. You're changing into a new person."

"No, I'm just finally admitting who I am. While I was in Theresa Harris's room, I had a dream. I remembered some stuff from the past."

"Nothing bad, I hope." There was a concerned look on her face. I let it slide, as I really didn't know of anything that should concern her about me remembering the past.

"No, nothing bad. I remembered my imaginary friend. It also reminded me of why I remembered the dresses. I was trying them on for her. I think it's fitting I take her name."

"AJ?"

"I know. She wasn't real. Did I ever tell you I thought of her like a sister?"

My mom shook her head.

"Well, it's true. I imagined that she was my sister, and we were the same age. I tried on the dresses because you could never see them on her."

"Oh, Anne-Jeanette," my mom was crying a bit, and wrapped me in her arms. I hugged her back. I looked over her shoulder after a moment or two and saw dad smiling in the doorway.

"Well, it looks like I'm outnumbered now. You were supposed to be in my corner, AJ. You know, the male solidarity."

"Oh hush, dad. It's not like I've gone away. The fact that we know I have two X chromosomes doesn't change that I'm still myself. I'm still a fighter, dad. It's the only thing I ever knew."

"Are you sure, AJ? I thought this was to get you out of that life."

"I'm no longer going to fight on the street, dad. I at least want to give fighting in the ring a chance. May I? Please?"

My dad looked at my mom, and then the two of them looked back at me.

"AJ..." my dad began, but I interrupted him.

"I know everything you're about to say, dad. I know the dangers of boxing, and with its more lax rules, MMA has to be worse. I'm young to be a fighter, which I know also. Look, I also know I would need a lot of training before I got into a ring. I just want to see if that is something that I am good enough at to even start training. Even if I never climb in a ring, it will give me an outlet."

I fully expected to hear him tell me no, but I guess it was something in my eyes that changed his mind. Or my posture. Or something else entirely.

"All right, Anne-Jeanette. As long as you understand that this is permission to train only–which includes sparring of course. Training. If you want to go further than that we'll re-open the discussion."

"That's all I ask, dad."

"Well, Anne-Jeanette, what we told Shawn holds true: it is late."

"Before you go, AJ, I need something clarified," mom said.

"Mom, I love you, and think that most of your styles will work perfectly on me. However, most of what you make is formal. I need everyday clothing too, and more of that than you can make for me in a single week."

"That's not what I was going to ask."

"But…"

"I love that you want to wear my clothing, but like you said, we don't have the time. If you want I can slowly replace pieces of your wardrobe with Anne-Jeanette originals…"

"Anne-Jeanette?" I was confused.

"I hadn't placed why, but I've been calling my personal line that I've been designing 'For Jeanette'. I'd been using it for so long that I forgot the original source. I like the idea of calling my line 'Anne-Jeanette' better."

"Doesn't the designer usually name it after herself?"

"There are lots of naming schemes. I'm naming mine after my daughter and first model."

"I'm not pretty enough to be a model."

"Your father and Shawn both disagree."

I looked at dad and he just nodded at me.

"So, mom, if it wasn't about the clothing…"

"I just wondered if you wanted to invite your friends along."

"Friends?"

"Kelly, for one, and Jasmine?"

I must be tired, my nap this afternoon notwithstanding.

"Oh, right, I have friends." I beamed a smile at the room. Well, I had one friend. Jasmine was fun to talk to, and Kelly? Well, Kelly was Kelly. She was a bundle of raw nerves wrapped around a nuclear power source. She was all over the place, and flighty, and…okay, I admit it. She grew on you. Like a fungus maybe, but she did grow on you.

"I can invite them?"

"We wouldn't have said anything otherwise."

I squealed, this time without the embarrassment afterwards. I ran upstairs to my computer and sent requests to both Jasmine and Kelly. Jasmine answered a moment or two before Kelly did. I joined us into a three-way chat.

"Do you know what time it is, AJ?" Jasmine asked me.

"Of course she does, so it must be important to call us both after ten pm."

"It's after ten? Crap. I'll make this quick."

Kelly and Jasmine laughed at that.

"So, I'm going shopping for a complete new wardrobe tomorrow. We've decided that it's about time I stopped being a tomboy and really went all out. I'm really not sure how girly I want to go, but there will be much shopping."

"Of course we'll join you," Kelly said with a huge smile.

"What she said, but without all of the bounciness."

"Okay, come over to my house after school and we'll get organized."

We signed off, and I looked around to see mom standing in my doorway with a box. I felt my heart rate speed up a bit. With slightly trembling hands I opened the box and pulled apart the packing material. There she was: a little more dusty, and a little older. I hoped she was a little wiser as well, but time would tell.

I reverently put her up on her old shelf after carefully cleaning off the dust from her face and clothing. She still wore the locket that I'd given her and it still bore my more juvenile handwriting scratched into its surface.

When my mom left, I lay on my bed and looked up at the other AJ.

"We've got the same name now, Anne-Jeanette. Hope you don't mind."

I lay there and stared up at her. She surveyed my room, and protected me from the night.

It was time for this day to be over. I turned out the light, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.

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Comments

Happiness arrives

The world is becoming a happy place for our beloved heroine.

Lora123falle.jpg

Whatever happened to Aaron Smith? - Chapter 5 of many

Me, I don't see why she does not choose gymnastics and yoga as well. Heck she could replace Hilary Swank as the Next Karate Kid. and earn the inner cam of yoga.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Judo

She might end up learning Judo at some point in the future, and she might not. She would have an excellent teacher in Theresa.

AJ excels already in using her size to her advantage. People underestimate her all the time. In a straight out grapple she'd have problems, but that is a specific limited situation. She is agile, and has great situational awareness. That being said, sometimes having no style is better than having some rigid set of rules.

I wonder how she will handle

I wonder how she will handle single combat, her style seems to be more focused on using opponents against each other and taking advantage of the melee.

Because

She just doesn't think in that direction. This is not a story about stereotypes. This is a story about people. She thinks in terms of action over inaction. As such, she hasn't considered gymnastics or yoga as options.

Her calm comes from movement and striving.

There are people like that in this world.

Personally, I kind of go nuts trying to get the calm of yoga. I have to be doing something. I have to be moving or typing or anything other than trying to keep a specific pose in the perfect form for hours...

There is a calm in the ocean, even though the surface is in constant motion.

Amazing calm parents.

No cussing, swearing, beatings, blood, fear, anger or condemnation. I wonder how life like that would have been?

Khadijah

fantastic parents, indeed

and the judge was pretty cool too.

Dorothycolleen

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Anne-Jeanete

Lovely name and lovely story.

Terrific end of chapter, and finally AJ sees the light at the end of the tunnel.

Hope it's not a steam train coming the other way?

Thankyou Liadan,

LoL
Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

Interesting strategy / rationalisation

Creating an imaginary twin sister, then rationalising the wearing of feminine clothes as visualising what she'd look like in them if she were real.

It's a concept that takes a bit of thought to actually understand. It does have a certain logic to it, although no doubt psych professionals could read many different layers of meaning into it - especially given that she'd been raised to believe she was a boy. One possible interpretation might be an unconscious coping mechanism - projecting feminine thoughts / feelings into the persona of AJ while still maintaining the illusion of masculinity in her 'real' body.

 

Bike Resources

There are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary and those who don't...

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

Tongue-in-cheek comment

I do hope her going out shopping with her girl friends, Kelly and Jasmine, isn't going to end up like the saying goes about never buying the the clothing that really fits her in such company. :P

Faraway


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Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!