Saving Imelda by Jenn C   Copyright © 2012 Jenn C All Rights Reserved. A follow up to "Last Message"

The alert went off from my phone, and at first I ignored it. But it was the ring for a message from the TG fiction site I belong to, so my curiosity got the better of me and I looked down to check. It was from Imelda, my good friend on the site. I opened the message and read in horror.

I was out with my coworkers at a team building exercise held at a bar named The Bitter End, on Bitters road. I hastily made my excuses with my fellow employees and planned to leave immediately. No sooner had I headed towards the door when my ass of a manager stops me to talk about the Cowboys and the chances they will make the playoffs next year. Next year - exactly my point: they suck. The only chance they have is next year, and get rid of Romo, for gods sake; he blows, and the only reason he’s the quarterback is he was the best of what was left. I’m a Saints fan anyway. I stormed off, reminding myself to blame it on the beer next time I saw him.

It was Christmas Eve, and I was once again thinking: what moron of a boss (1) plans a party for employees, (2) requires attendance at said party, (3) on Christmas Eve! A boss who has no family or friends, just the people he works with - that’s who. And how does he find a bar willing to hold said party?

I got in my car and turned the key. It was so chilly. Our only cold snap for the year had started last week, and was now in full swing: they were predicting snow. Snow - in south Texas - that would stick; it had not happened since 1985. Come on car, start! When it did start I couldn’t get out of the parking lot fast enough. Traffic was a nightmare; people getting last minute stuff they needed, I guess. As I started zigzagging through traffic, I thought back to how I met Imelda.

I first joined the site in February of this year. I knew all my life I was transgendered, but had hid it for a long time successfully. However, within the last two years I had felt I had to do something about it; I felt oppressed by the weight of it all. I had no wife or children; I did have a very religious and strong willed mother, a macho father, and two very female sisters, girly-girl types. all this transpired to keep me in the closet.

So I joined the fiction site and Jennifer started to live. I had lurked for years, but finally made a profile. It was enjoyable being myself, and I made quite a few amazing friendships, folks who helped me along and encouraged me to write as a way to come to grips with my feelings.

I met Melly after I had been on the site for a few months; her name popped up as a new member, and I don’t know why but I sent her a ‘welcome’ private message. She responded, and seemed very skittish but nice. Over the months we tentatively revealed more information to each other, until one day we found out we were in the same city. That kind of freaked us out a bit, but we laughed it off and soon became each other’s exclusive support network.

She was even more in the closet than I was. She had a family, a wife and two kids; a boy (thirteen) and a girl (twelve). She always said there would be no way she would come out while her kids were still in school. Her horrible wife berated her constantly about money, yet refused to work herself because “the children needed her at home”. What a crock; the kids never got home before six, and the only thing that leech of a spouse did was sit on the couch and watch the Oprah channel all day.

I had suggested we meet and told her it would appear like just two guys having coffee, beer or a burger. No one would be any wiser; she was still gun-shy about it, which was fine with me. What we hadn’t counted on was how close we became, and how much we cared about each other. I thought it was amazing how we had communicated all over the Internet — the site, Twitter, Facebook - and we only lived 12 miles away from each other.

I started calling her Melly and she started calling me Boo. That nickname became mine after an embarrassing event one Halloween. Some friends and I attended the famous Nightmare on Grayson, a yearly haunted house attraction. I don’t startle easily, but the creep in the last room got me good; I jumped ten feet and peed in my pants. Hence, the name Boo. I promised myself there would never be a repeat episode of this.

To everyone else on the site we were like sisters; Imelda and Jennifer, joined at the hip. We wrote several stories together and were starting a few more; we had outlined a big sci-fi epic and were currently trying to map out the plot. Things were ok, right? Wrong.

I pull my phone back out of my pocket, looking at the message while driving. I think I know where she is talking about, but I hope I’m in time. My foot pressed a little harder on the pedal trying to squeeze out a little more speed. The roads were icy, but that did not deter me; I had to get there, I had to. I loved her so much,

I didn’t feel like my life could go on if I lost her. She gave me so much encouragement when I was down … cheered me up at least once a week … told me that I would succeed with my transition when the time was right. I looked not at all feminine, but she swore that my heart would bury any masculine trappings and broadcast the real me to the world. I had never seen her; she said it was too late for her to try to transition, and that she was too well known. But I thought if I could do it, so could she.

I knew I was running out of time; I had to get there. Down the highway doing 70 mph to the Kyle road exit, then turn left. There is a cliff out here, about a hundred and twenty foot high; you can see the whole city clear to downtown from the ledge. It’s near a theme park that set up shop around twenty years ago. Up the winding sightseeing road; I can’t take the corners any faster, or I will spin out. When I get to the top of the hill I see her - standing on the rail.

My heart leapt in my throat. She was so close to killing us both; her physically, and me emotionally. She seemed startled by the appearance of my car and uncertain until I turned off the headlights. I ran out of the car, barely putting it in park.

I called out - “Melly, please stop!” - I begged her, pleading, my voice faltering. “Imelda, I love you so much, I can’t make it without you! You light up my soul; if I have you, I can do anything - I can live, and so can you.”

I was shuddering; half because of the cold, and half because of the sheer emotion flowing out of my heart. I did not realize how much I needed her; how much it would hurt without her. Her laugh … her way of saying ‘um’ between every word … her soft, encouraging voice on the phone. Was I selfish? Had I done one tenth of what she had done for me? Was I as important to her as she was to me? She said so in the message, but was it enough?

I gave it one last pained try. “It’s not the end; please give me a chance to show you the freedom you now have.” My watering eyes looked up at her; I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Sobs wracked my chest as I fell to my knees, openly crying.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I looked up into her blue watery eyes shimmering in the little light from the dim bulbs held aloft on poles. She said to me in a whisper, “it’ll be all right, Boo; I promise I will never leave you.” This was my Melly, so strong; with purpose, she reached down and pulled me to my feet, and held me softly. “I’ll always hold you, I’ll never let go,” she breathed. I felt comforted by her tightly wrapped arms, and I wondered who had saved whom.

We would face it all together; any challenge, we could conquer them all, because we had each other and nothing else mattered.

I looked up into the night sky and said, “thank you.” And at that moment, I swear one of the stars winked back at me. We stood there as the first snow in decades began to fall around us, dusting us with its light touch. It was getting colder, but I had all the warmth I would ever need in her loving embrace.

END.

Special thanks:
-to Sigh for battling the grammar monsters I tend to spawn
-to Cassie Ellen for the idea to let Imelda live and some great dialogue
-to the usual suspects for encouraging me to write and get stuff out
Thank you all! Smiles, Jenn.