Part 2:The Storm: The aftermath of Bill being arrested on trumped up prostitution charges, see if his parents are understanding.

Author Note: I'll put this here for all to see. I really do try to do my best in presenting stories that are entertaining and have a good foothold in reality. I know that sometimes things hit close to home, but I won't apologize because that is my goal. I think we, as a community, need to embrace those things that make us wonderfully special and confront those things that are wrong and hinder our growth as people with reckless abandon. Guess which purpose I fulfill.

An hour later, back at the police station, officer Jack Murphy was sitting at his desk, talking to the prosecutor. “So the little tranny gets a walk,” he said with up most contempt.

“Relax Jack,” the petite blonde said as she sat on the side of the desk. “The kid’s only sixteen and there’s no evidence that he ever did this before. His story was the you were some creep so he threw out a large number simply to get away from you. According to the tape, he never did actually offer you any kind of services.”

Officer Murphy shook his head. “What about the three hundred dollars in cash, isn’t that enough proof that there’s something going on. Or do you believe that he just turned in a lot of refundable empty cans earlier in the day.”

“Said he got that by doing odd jobs, baby sitting and such.” The prosecutor closed the file. “It is feasible.”

“I wouldn’t let that anywhere near my son, might be contagious. So he earned, or so he says, three bills, but what in the world was he doing with it over there if not servicing the pervs going in and out of that sex shack? Drugs? Maybe black market hormones?”

“He won’t divulge that information and it’s not a part of the charge,” the prosecutor told him.

The black phone on the desk rang. Officer Murphy picked it up, said a few non-committal words and ended with a “send them in.” The balding, slightly chubby officer stood up. “That would be the young lady’s proud parents. His ought to be fun. Maybe they should keep it on a leash or something.”

“Jack,” the prosecutor said in a motherly tone, “be on your best behavior.”

Officer Murphy chuckled. “Yes ma’am,” he said mockingly and watched the sexy prosecutor wiggle her ass as she made her way out the door.

“Are you Officer Murphy,” a graying, middle-aged man asked as he came towards the desk in a rush with his wife.”

“Yes sir. You must be the Cohen’s. Please, follow me.” Officer Murphy led the to a small meeting room that was off to the side.

“Is Bill all right?” Gail Cohen asked as soon as the door closed. “Is he hurt?”

Jack Murphy took a deep breath. “Your son is fine. We picked up Bill on suspicion of solicitation and prostitution. Now, considering his age and that the evidence against him could sway either way, we’ve decided not to press any charges. But, for you son’s sake, advise him about dressing the way he did and if he is not involved in prostitution, which I personally believe he is, warn him of the dangers associated with such a reckless action. Do you have any clue how many teens get hurt or killed trying to earn a quick buck out on the street?”

“I can imagine. Can we see him,” William glared, none too happy with the current situation.

“Of course,” Officer Murphy said as he opened the door. “Because of your son’s age and current state of dress, we thought it prudent to keep him separated from the ordinaries that come through here.”

William blew out a hard breath of frustration as his wife dutifully followed one step behind. “You’ve said that twice now. What state of dress was he in,” he asked, even though he was unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“To be honest sir,” Officer Murphy stopped and lowered his voice. “He was dressed like a slut. Short, revealing skirt, tights. Common for boy toys in that area. We also found three hundred dollars on his person that he didn’t account for.”

William rolled his eyes. “Good God,” he exasperated. “That boy will never learn.”

The rest of the trip was made in silence as they went down to the basement where an assortment of holding cells were located. The Cohen’s were instructed to wait in a lobby area as the officer took care to sign the appropriate documents and retrieve their child for them.

Bill was sitting in a small six by ten concrete cell by himself. He tried to get comfortable, but there was no way to accomplish such a feat. Tears were still streaming down his face. The only time he actually stopped crying was to explain the situation to a defense attorney who agreed to see him despite his parents not yet being there. She assured him, after reviewing the material, that there would be nothing to come of this. But, to be held in a cell while others decided his fate was almost as discomforting as the concrete bench he was sitting on.

The loud clang of a key being put in the large lock caused Bill to take his head out of his hands and look up, partly out of fear that some rapist or murdered was going to share the space with him.

“Ma’am,” Officer Murphy said sarcastically. “You’re parents are here, you’re free to go.”

Bill came to his feet slowly, even though the lead weight of incarceration was lifted, it was immediately replaced by another that dreaded seeing his parents. As he walked towards the front, past the other holding cells, he was greeted by the same catcalls and rude comments that he heard on the way in. “This is so embarrassing,” Bill mumbled as he shuffled his feet.

“And being dressed up like some chick isn’t?” Officer Murphy added snidely as he stared at the boy’s skirt.

Bill kept his mouth shut. There was nothing to say to certain people to make them understand that this was the only way he could feel like himself. Besides, all the fight was taken out of him. A few hours under the thumb of the law had that affect on some people. Bill was one of them.

“Look at you,” William said in evident mockery as his son was presented to him. “What a disgrace.”

Bill’s eyes filled with tears as soon as his father said the words. “I didn’t do what they said,” he said in a rush of breath. “I swear. I would never do anything like that. It was all just one big mistake.”

William shook his head. “Even if you weren’t selling your body like some five dollar crack whore, just look at the way you’re dressed. How can you shame me like that, prancing around like you’re some sort of prissy girl?”

“Because that’s what I am,” Bill mustered the courage to say.

William slapped the child across the face so hard that Bill spun and fell to the floor. “I’ll hear none of that blasphemy,” he said as he towered over the teen. “God gave me a son and no matter what seed of sin Satan planted in your soul, that’s what you’re going to be. Now get up, we ain’t through.” William grabbed his child by the hair and started to lift Bill to his feet.

“Mr. Cohen,” Officer Murphy said in a calm tone as he gently pushed the father away from his son who remained on the ground. “I can appreciate your feelings on this, but this is not the place for such a confrontation. I suggest that you deal with this in private; at home.”

William stood up straight and backed away slowly. “Thank you officer,” he said as he adjusted the collar on his dress shirt, displaying that he had cooled down.

Gail helped her child to his feet. “Your dad is just under a lot of stress during the holidays,” she whispered. “And making him come down to a police station after a hard days work isn’t helping matters very much either.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” Bill whined as they walked five steps behind his father towards the elevator.

“We talked about you keeping up this notion that you’re a female secret. We didn’t say to go all around kingdom come dressed in drag like some two bit hussy, did we?” Gail said condescendingly. “What you are and what you do in the privacy of your own room is your own business. But when you broadcast to the world that you’re some kind of freak, well then, only bad things can come of it. Isn’t that the truth?”

“Yes ma’am,” Bill agreed reluctantly as the two large elevator doors slid apart.

The drive home was in complete silence. The eerie quiet that normally accompanies horror movies when one of the cast is cautiously walking through a cemetery. Bill had the feeling that a hand would soon reach up from the floorboard and suck him into some unpleasant business. He could see his dad through the reflection of the rear view mirror; Williams lips were taut and his eyes were staring, unnaturally, straight ahead. Not even the radio made a sound. The only thing to be heard was the road and as it led them to their quaint little house on Baker Street, the road didn’t say anything that was of any comfort.

William pulled into the driveway and angrily put the gear into park. “Bill,” he finally spoke, but his words were strained. “Go straight to your room. Your mother and I have to discuss what we’re going to do. We’ll call you when we’re ready and we don’t expect to see you a moment sooner.”

“Yes sir,” Bill answered just above a whisper. He got out of the car and walked directly to the garage where his bedroom was now located. The wait would be bad enough without the constant reminder that he was still in his dad’s doghouse, but of this, he had no control.

Bill sat on his bed. It wasn’t much of a bedroom. In fact, it wasn’t much of a room at all. He thought back on the day that sealed his fate to live like an outcast in his own family, thinking back on the Friday after Thanksgiving day when he told his parents that he was truly a girl. Everything from there seemed to spin out of control from then.

Bill contemplated changing out of his skirt and feminine sweater, but decided against it. This was who he really was and he felt it was about time he took a stand; things couldn’t get any worse anyway. Perhaps when his dad saw how committed he was to being Sarah, then his father would have a change of heart. He smoothed the skirt, it was short, he thought, but he did have on the thick tights and many girls wore things far shorter these days.

Bill didn’t know what to do, so he got on his knees to pray. “Dear God,” he said in the softest of whispers, sounding more like a girl than ever before. “I know you made me a girl, but somewhere the order got messed up and I received the wrong body. Please show my mom and dad what I really am and let him accept me for what I truly am on the inside. And God, if you can, could you just change my body to my real one, right now, please?” he added in almost a while. “Amen, and I love you too.”

Bill stood up. Just for fun he checked under his skirt to see if his prayer was answered. It wasn’t, he knew it was wishful thinking in the first place. When he was little, but old enough to understand why he wasn’t a girl, he thought that at any moment his maleness would fall away forever and people would know what he was.

When bill was still a child, around four of five years old, he would sit in the tub during his nightly bath. The warm water would come up to his him and never any higher. He would spend a few moments letting a nude Barbie doll swim through the bath water, around his back and then under the crook of his knee.

At the time, he was fully aware of why he wasn’t a girl, and knew the part of his anatomy that kept him from being what he knew for certain he was. During the day he wouldn’t have to look at it, common decency and modesty ensured that. Even when he had to relieve himself he wouldn’t look, just sit on the bowl, point downward, and be oblivious to its existence.

But, in the bathtub, he didn’t have such a luxury, and even though it certainly seemed smaller in the water, it was still there. Part of his young mind figured if he could stay in the bathtub long enough, that part, that was defiantly not Sarah, would shrivel away to nonexistence. It hadn’t happened yet, but perhaps he could figure out a way to make it work.

Each night he would look at the small piece of flesh that separated him from being totally happy and he would recite the same silly line that he invented on his own. “Shrink, shrink, shrink away,” his young, high pitched voice would sing in a whisper so his parents wouldn’t hear and be cross with him. “Make me a girl today. Shrink, shrink, and shrink some more, being a boy is a chore,” he ended sourly.

Part of him always thought coming up with the right rhyme would find the magic to make his desires happen.

The hour was up and so was fifteen minutes after that. Finally Gail opened the door that once led to her garage and saw her child sitting on the bed. “I thought you’d at least have had enough sense to change,” she said as she looked at her son still wearing girls’ clothing and a hint of make-up.

Bill looked over at his mom, unsure whether or not she was on his side, sometimes it was hard to tell. Tears began to well up as his mind carefully processed the question. “I tried mom,” he said with an air of sincerity. “But the outside of me still is male.”

Gail frowned. What could she say to the child. She sat on the edge of the bed and pushed the hair out of her son’s face. She knew very early on that he was not like the other boys and she praised him for that so often. He had been such a pretty baby with long blonde strands of hair that she couldn’t bring herself to sheer. But, that was not what set her son apart from the other boys. Looks aside, he was always an emotional child and never hid those emotions like the other little boys. If he saw a sad movie, he’d cry and all along his mother, being part of a new world, encouraged him to let it all out. On top of that, he was always a clean child, choosing not to soil himself up and ruin his clothes. As boys his age were stomping in mud puddles, he was playing house with the little girl who use to live next door. “When I grow up I’m going to be a good mother just like mommy,” her little boy stated proudly on more than one occasion. Who would’ve thought that laughing instead of correcting him would lead to this?

“Your dad is a little upset right now. I’m sure you can at least understand why,” Gail said tenderly. “Just hear him out and nod. Nothing he ever says is permanent, but this situation has got him at his wits end and I’m sure you can understand that much as well.”

Bill looked up into his mother’s eyes. “What about you? Do you hate me too?”

Gail put her arms around her child. “I don’t hate you and neither does your father, that will never happen. I am confused about what you were doing in that part of town and how you got yourself arrested. Now, I’ve raised you right and I truly believe that you weren’t selling your innocence. Either way, it’s never good to be picked up by the police, it just doesn’t look right.”

“I swear I wasn’t hooking mom,” Bill said as a tear fell. “I guess I didn’t handle the situation well, but when he asked for sex and how much, I just told him a high number so the guy would just leave me alone.”

“Your defense attorney called and said as much. Told us how upset you were by the whole mess,” Gail comforted. “But also said you used bad judgment in the situation as a whole. What if that man wasn’t a cop, but was a murderer or a rapist? We’d be talking to the cops right now for a whole different reason, wouldn’t we?”

Bill stayed silent. He hadn’t thought of it that way and his mom was absolutely right, especially considering the part of town he was in. “I’m sorry, I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“We’ll get through this,” Gail said as she rose. “Let’s talk to your dad.”

Bill stood up as slowly as he could. As he shuffled his feet on the way to the kitchen, he knew that he was only delaying the inevitable. Still he plodded along, trying to see if any words of wisdom came to his mind magically. None did as he walked through the door that led to, what he considered, the house.

William watched as his son entered. If he wasn’t so angry he could cry right then. Images of his son performing acts on some fat sweaty pig rapidly crossed his mind. Acts that no male, no matter what state of dress, should be performing on another guy. Acts that made this man queasy just at the thought of them. William could no longer look at his own child just then, the images were just too strong and disturbing, so he turned away before he gagged.

Bill was a statue at the entrance of the kitchen. He stared at his father, but his vision was blurry and distorted, as if he was looking at something beyond his dad. He didn’t move a muscle while waiting for the man to say something, anything. The suspense was almost too much to bear, the silence almost brought the child to his knees. Yet he still waited without making a sound.

William looked down at the dark oak table, wondering where in the world he went wrong. Perhaps it was his long periods of absence when his son was a toddler. Times were tough then, his job was requiring him to put in seventy plus hours a week, including weekends. They needed the money, so he had no choice but to work those grueling hours. Financially, it paid off in the end, but perhaps his son not having a male role model in his life was the root of the problem now. Perhaps it was even William’s own leniency, he thought.

It was only a month ago when his son told him that he felt that he was truly a girl on the inside. William’s initial response was the one he expected, a fit of rage, accompanied by yelling, cursing, and threats of military school. It was later, during the calm after the storm, that he did something he really did not expect. The action may have caused this whole mess. He remembered it well.

After all the screaming was over and he’d settled down with a glass of bourbon, William walked to his son’s bedroom; that was when his son slept across the hall from him. He entered only to find Bill laying on the bed, still crying his eyes out. “Hey,” was the only word he could manage to get out at the time.

Bill sat up in bed, clutching a white teddy bear from years gone by. His eyes were red and puffy, only adding to the girlish qualities he already possessed by the thousands. “Hey dad,” he murmured.

“So it’s Sarah now, is it?” William asked hesitantly, unsure if he was doing the right thing, but not thinking he had any other choice to regain the household peace.

Bill nodded his head, his face still glum. “I always liked that name for me.”

“I’m sorry I flew off the handle,” William apologized. “Your revelation took me by surprise and you know I don’t respond to shock very well. This has just come so out of the blue, I never suspected you felt that way.”

“I know,” Bill said softly. “But I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. I couldn’t keep lying. I had to tell someone.”

William wiped a tear from his son’s eye. “The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

Bill looked up at his father expectantly, but didn’t say a word. He knew that an answer was coming shortly.

“I was thinking, we could let Sarah be just as much a part of this family as Billy was, and is. I can’t say that I completely understand what this is all about, believe me, I tried. I can’t even say if I approve of such a thing. But, I’ve never made your life unbearable either. If you want to dress up and act like a girl, I won’t stop you. But there are a few conditions.”

“What conditions daddy,” Bill said as he leaned his head against his father’s chest, enjoying the closeness that came so rarely in their relationship.

William smiled faintly. “It’s going to take me some time to get use to having a daughter. Your mom and I think that for the time being you move out to the garage while we get a chance to adapt. I think that’s best for all involved. This way there’s no surprises and we can ease on into things and see if this thing can work. Does that sound fair to you?”

Bill nodded his head yes and it seemed like everything would work out just fine.

“The last thing is, this is under experimental conditions and if I think we’re not handling the situation well, then I withhold the right to call an end to the whole thing right then and there. Okay?”

“Okay,” Bill said with less certainty than his previous answer.

Evidently the experiment had been a total failure, William thought to himself. Though at the time he thought he could grow accustomed to seeing his son in drag, his comfort with the situation never materialized. He wanted to be one of those dads who understood and accepted the weird stages teens went though, but this was beyond his ability and perhaps beyond any other father’s ability as well. His leniency almost landed his son in jail or even fates far worse than that and he was resolved to show some tough love and return life to some resemblance of normalcy. He wished he was more settled down, but that might take months.

“Sit down, Bill,” William commanded in a stern, angry voice as he pointed to the wooden kitchen chair.

“Sarah,” Bill corrected automatically out of impulse as he sat down.

The little bit of calming down William did vanished in a bright haze of red and William slapped his son across the face, knocking the teen to the floor. “Your name is Bill, God Damn it, and you’re my son. You better start acting that way or so help me you won’t live to see another year.”

Bill cried as he held his cheek. A trickle of blood ran down from his nose and entered his mouth.

“Get up, Damn you!” William shouted, continuing what he started at the police station. He pulled his son by the hair, only to hear the high pitched squeal of a little girl. “Stop acting like a little sissy. The experiment is over, it’s through.”

“But Daddy,” Bill sobbed. “I can’t stop being me. It’s not fair,” he added with a whine.

“Can’t stop being you,” William shouted as his face turned bright red. “Can’t stop being you. I’m telling you that you are going to start acting like the man you are, the way God intended you to be, damn it. I’m tired of caving in and trying to be more than reasonable, only to get a call at work telling me that my son was dressed like some whore in a short skirt, trying to sell himself to whatever sick pervert, with God knows what disease, is willing to pay.”

“William,” Gail implored, attempting to defuse the situation. “Think about your blood pressure.”

“I am.” William looked at his wife through squinting, red eyes. “This little bastard is going to put me in an early grave, prancing around like some queer.” He pushed his son down to the floor roughly and kicked him in the side.

Bill stayed put, crying for all that he was worth. He didn’t know what to say. At that point, there was probably no words that would help.

“Get up you faggot,” William screamed. “There’s going to be some changes made around here and they’re going to be permanent. I want you to gather all your dresses, all your little panties, any pink thing you own and throw it all in a trash bag. I’ll take it to the dump myself to keep things from magically reappearing. Tomorrow we’ll go the barber and get you a proper crew cut. You’re going to start acting like a man, damn you.”

Bill picked himself off the floor as his dad was ranting. “No, I won’t,” he said softly, in defiance.

“Excuse me?” William smacked his child across the face leaving the print of his hand on the boy’s face. “What did you just say?”

“I said I won’t,” Bill said boldly as he wiped the blood from his lip. “I’m not getting rid of everything that’s me and I’m not going anywhere near a barber for a crew cut or any other kind of haircut. I like the way I look and I like who I really am.”

“Listen you faggot,” William said in an angry tone, shocked that his son would question him. “As long as you live in my house, you will follow my ruled. This isn’t a democracy, damn you, it’s a dictatorship, and my word is law.”

“I don’t live in your house any more, remember,” Bill said as he stood his ground. “You kicked me out into the cold garage because you couldn’t deal with the truth. I can’t help it dad, but I’m a girl. Sorry to disappoint you, but I won’t live a lie.”

“Like hell you are.” William punched his son in the gut with all his might, causing the boy to spit out blood and crash into the sink, using the edge of the counter to support his weight so he didn’t fall back to the floor.

Bill tried to catch his breath, but the pain was excruciating. He wrapped his hand around something he did not immediately recognize in order to give the pain a place to go.

“I swear I’ll beat you to an inch of your life to put the man back into you,” William threatened as he advanced.

Bill stood straight up and put his hand in front of him to ward off any oncoming blows. It was then he realized that he never let go of the handle to the large kitchen knife. He looked at the item in confusion as his mind raced about what to do now that he was where the was at. “Don’t come near me I tell you,” Bill spit out the threat as his knees shook in fear.

“Bill don’t,” Gail said, almost in a cry. “Put that thing down before you accidentally hurt someone, most likely yourself.”

“You ungrateful little bastard,” William yelled. “After all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me.”

Bill stared at his father’s red face. “You don’t want me here the way I truly am, then fine, I’m out of here.”

William watched his son make for the front door. “You leave this house then don’t ever think about coming back. Not until you can act like a man and not some over glorified little pansy.”

“Bill, don’t!” Gail pleaded as she made her way towards her child, wondering how the situation had gotten so out of hand. “Think about what you’re doing.”

“Don’t go chasing down that little faggot,” William told his wife. “You stay right here,” he grabbed her wrist to hold her in place.

Bill watched as his mother obediently took her place by her husband. He zipped up his winter jacket that he never did take off, stormed out of the house, and slammed the door behind him. The brass bells crashed into each other creating a disharmonious clang.

“William,” Gail said in a plea for her husband to take action, to put an end to the madness that he started. But he simply stood there, unmoving and watching the front door as it remained closed.

“He’ll be back,” William stated calmly. “He has no money and no place to go.” William sat down in the kitchen chair. “I did this for his own good. He’s my son too and I love him, but that only goes so far. I won’t stand around and watch him ruin his life for some silly teenage notion.”

Bill raced down the walk and then down the driveway. Almost certain that his parents were watching, Bill carefully placed the knife in the mailbox. This way, if his parents decided to call the cops, he wouldn’t be carrying a weapon. Being in a holding cell once already that day was more than enough. He ran up the block, slipping and sliding on the ice. Once at the corner, he looked back to see if his parents were following, especially his dad. They weren’t. Bill decided it was safe to walk at a normal pace. With no particular place to go, Bill started to wander aimlessly.

At ten o’clock that night, Bill was at the park still crying over the way his father treated him. Everything was so unfair that day; getting arrested, the fight with his parents, and struggling to keep warm all because he wanted to buy something to make him feel more like his true self. He didn’t even get his money back from the police and it was bitterly cold and hunger was setting in. Bill eventually found a park bench to crawl under. He curled into a ball so his thick winter coat would cover all of his body, and he tried to shiver himself to sleep, if that was at all possible.

Author's Note 2: There would be a reprieve if there isn't something to be reprieved from. We are working towards it, but are you willing to see Bill/Sarah to the end. I try to write first rate stuff.