Phase Transitions: Gas pt.1

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Phase Transitions

By NiGHTs
(Based on a Story and Title suggestion made by Tyrone Slothrop)

Transition one: Gas pt.1

The night sky was clear and still warm on a night in late July of 2004. On interstate 95, just north of Baltimore, a green Kia Spectra uses a tractor trailer to run blocking for it as it makes it way to the 695 interchange. Renee Holister and I have been discussing how I came to the understanding that I was transsexual.

"The world of 1974 is probably more familiar than you'd think Renee." I glanced at the twenty year old brunette beside me. If I had been born a genetic girl, the young brunette could have been my daughter. Assuming of course, she'd been born a genetic girl as well. I smiled sadly at the thought and recalled the song I'd sung at The Soiled Dove. "Wasted Time." I mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, just thinking about might-have-beens;" I said, still wondering at where all the time had gone since I was her age. "A danger when discussing the past." I assured her and continued thinking about what was happening the year I discovered myself.

"Now that I'm thinking about it, the similarities between 2004 and 1974 are interesting." I said, getting back into the groove and brushing a stray hair from behind my glasses. "There were terrorists back then too, both at home and abroad." I said, referring to the Munich Olympics in 72 and the Patty Hearst kidnapping of that year. The OPEC embargo played havoc with gas prices and while it wasn't an election year but we were changing presidents anyway. Nixon resigned about three weeks before my 9th birthday."

"Weird, 'the more things change…'" Renee said, breaking my internal search for the events of 30 years ago.

I steered the car onto 695 so we could merge with 702 and get my TG Support group's newest member back home. She was listening intently, grunting and nodding just enough to remind me that she was there and paying attention.

"Not that any of this really meant a lot to a nine year old. With my birthday just past, summer vacation was coming to a close and I had a new school year coming up and more than enough on my plate anyway…" I said letting my mind drift back.

Late August, 1974. Carol Island Shopping Center

Walking the aisles of the local Safeway with my parents and little sister was always less than exciting. Outside of looking at the artwork on the breakfast cereal boxes and checking the magazine racks there wasn't a lot to look forward to. The first issue of Starlog was years away and so Famous Monsters of Filmland and Analog were all I really had to feed my head. With Mom along though I knew that even if new issues were out, FM would be considered too gross and Analog too old for me. At least I'd get to page through them briefly. Assuming of course, my little sister didn't insist on looking at the same magazine I was looking at. She'd recently decided that anything I'd taken interest in, she had to handle as well. Usually at the same time.

We were past the produce section and that underlying smell of rotten vegetable matter that no one but me seems to smell. The bread aisle was still a good five or six aisles away from where I could slip away from Mom's grousing about prices. Fortunately, there were J-hooks bearing silly cheap crap to tempt the shopper into impulse purchases. Most were miscellaneous household items, and a few were toys like squirt guns and the like, to get the really little kids whining. It didn't matter what was on the hooks to me though. I played a game of reading the descriptions and imagining what they could be in a funnier world.

It was a toy ping pong ball gun that got me to laughing loudly, much to Mom's distraction.

In my mind's eye, the packaging and toy came together to form the following battle:

The battle raged about the beast-man. Seven feet tall and nearly a full ton of green flesh waded through ranks of tanks and gunfire; bullets and exploding shells impacting with little or no perceptible damage. Instead of cowering, the hulking brute swatted the air around him, as if trying to shoo a swarm of excited bees away.

A muzzle flash reminded the Hulk's nearly infinitesimal mind of one of the sources of his annoyance. Roaring his disdain for the puny humans and their machines, The Hulk leapt the 400 yards separating him from the nearest tank to fire as though hopping across a hopscotch grid. Gripping the smoking barrel of the tank's main gun, he ripped the entire turret free of the vehicle and beat the main body to twisted rubble. Tossing the wreckage aside, The Hulk scanned the battlefield for his next victim.

"I have a clean shot, sir!" Shouted a prone soldier.

General Thunderbolt Ross observed the Hulk's doings from a jeep beside the soldier through high power binoculars and nodded. "Take him down soldier!" Ross shouted and raised a walkie-talkie to his mouth. "Get those gas grenades ready."

The giant on the battlefield below never heard the shot, but even without the binoculars the change in the Hulk's stance was easily seen. Almost immediately the great green behemoth dropped to his knees and looked on the verge of kneeling over. Through his binocs, the General smiled with satisfaction seeing the pained confusion on the Hulk's face. Misshapen, Neanderthal brows arched high on his broad face. The half-lidded dull look that predominated the Hulk's face had been replaced by one of saucer-eyed shock.

"Gas Grenades, Now!" Ross shouted into his radio.

Even as he issued orders continued to peer through his binoculars. Ross could see the Hulk's head sag down on his bull neck and could imagine ham hands with unaccustomed tenderness assessing the damage.

"Where are those blasted grenades!" The perpetually irate general bellowed over his shoulder in time with a pair of 'phunt' sounds announcing the launch of the grenades, which exploded a good thirty yards off target and downwind to boot.

"Correct that trajectory, pronto!"

Bringing his binoculars back to bear on the man-beast, who was already rising back to his feet, Ross could see a glowering rage burning through the Hulk's face that was unmatched in the all the years he'd spent in pursuit of the creature.

"oh shit"

My laughter was only intensified by the use of the naughty word at the end. No matter that no one would hear it from me, or that the writers at Marvel Comics would ever be allowed to publish it.

Dad gave me an indulgent look and said "Okay, what is it this time?" I pointed up at the florescent green ping pong ball gun and still giggling, read the packaging, which bore a picture of the Hulk by as rendered by the comic's old regular artist, Herb Trimpe.

"'The Incredible Hulk Ball Blaster'," I read aloud in my best imitation of a TV announcer's voice, then turning to Dad and leaning in close enough to smell the distinctive mix of Old Spice and tobacco smoke that seemed to cling to him, I added 'whispering' in that loud voice that only children can manage, "It won't stop him, but it'll sure slow him down!" Dad knew enough about comics to get that the Hulk's strength was directly proportional to his anger, and was caught between joining in the joke, or placating Mom, whose eyes had just dropped onto the floor.

"Hey Buddy-Roe, head on down to the deli and get us a half pound of Swiss and one pound of Bologna, okay?" He said; touching my back with gentle pressure to get me out of the way before Mom got her eyes stuffed back in her head. I heard an all too familiar whine starting up, as Dad pushed me off and almost as fast it started, Dad said something about having time alone with his two favorite ladies and I turned briefly to see Dad pick Stacy up and nuzzle her soft brown hair.

I left the three of them and turned the corner. The coolness of the dairy section enveloped me and gooseflesh tickled my skin. Although the summer day outside had been hot and totally justified my choice of blue shorts and a light green tee shirt, I'd not considered shopping today or would have pulled my blue jeans out instead.

I actually was happy enough to be on my own in a way. With no Mom, Dad, or Stacy looking over my shoulder, there was little pressure to watch myself that I was behaving as they expected. At the same time, a niggling voice in the back of my head wished silently that Dad or Mom could still pick me up or even just hug and hold me.

But they didn't seem to expect that I needed that anymore and I didn't want to add to their disappointment in me by asking.

I skipped stopping at the magazine rack on my way. While it might have been fun and even what Dad had originally intended, I knew from experience that I could get too absorbed in reading and the lines at the Deli sometimes took forever to wade through. Sure enough, there were 5 or 6 people waiting there. It occurred to me that I could have lifted a magazine and read while I waited, but then I'd draw evil looks from the clerks as they waited for me to damage, shoplift or simply leave it sitting on a case somewhere.

So I plucked a ticket and determined from the number there were really only three people actually ahead of me. There was a coffin case in front of the deli full of stuff we never bought and I looked at all the platters and funny breads while waiting. Time passed, as I kept an ear open to hear for my number to be called, and my mind was drifting as I watched a family with three girls pass. One of them, about my age smiled at me briefly, causing me to nervously brush blonde bangs out of my eyes. Why did she smile? What did she see? I told myself I was being paranoid and just watched in confusion as she turned back to her sisters and all three giggled.

So why had that girl smiled? Couldn't she see whatever it was that all the kids at school did? That I was some strange geek, to be laughed at and picked on? Maybe she did and that was the reason for the laughter afterward.

At the age of nine there was really only one central question in my life.

'What's wrong with me?'

It occupied my mind when I wasn't drawing or thinking up stories or submersing myself in books or TV. The worry and anxiety it caused evaporated when I could escape into other worlds.

I just didn't understand. Adults thought I was normal and couldn't see why I was sometimes despondent and depressed. They listened to my stories and looked at my drawings and said I was bright and imaginative and seemed to expect I should be happy with that.

Eventually though, I couldn't keep them entertained and they would push me to join with the other kids.

I didn't understand the boys my own age either. All they ever seemed to want to do was attack each other, while I wanted play out the adventures in my head and draw and read and write. Adults I could entertain. Boys I annoyed and learned not to talk too much around or at least usually say what they expected to hear. The policy didn't work all the time, but had kept incidents of fighting and parent conferences about 'my problems with socialization' to a minimum.

I can't say I didn't understand girls the girls my age, but the signals I could readily interpret at the time were mixed at best. My cousins seemed to accept me readily enough, and I always had fun playing with them, but that could have just been a "family thing". Certainly, the girls at school weren't generally inclined to let boys near. I did learn how to stay in the background and listen. They still chased me away when I they noticed and I guess I earned even more of a reputation for being weird over it.

The upshot being that when I tried to do what was expected and be with the boys, I felt wrong and at extreme disadvantage, but the girls with whom I felt more at ease made it clear I was wrong to seek their company too.

I was still standing there, my back to the deli counter hugging myself nervously and wondering again what was wrong with me, when the answer came from a most unlikely source.

"And what can we get you today Miss?" Called a woman's voice from the deli counter.

All the puzzle pieces fell into place and my mind seemed to lock up. I knew for the first time, why I felt wrong wherever I went.

"I'm a girl." I said to myself and the realization felt right and obvious, but at the same time, impossible.

"No you're not dummy." chimed in the part of me that always debated my decisions. "You've got a thing down there! You've helped Mom change and bathe Tracy when she was a baby. If you can see the difference, surely Mom and Dad would have by now."

"Not proof. My G I Joes don't have things." I ventured cautiously.

"Joe's like any doll. He's got nothing." My other side retorted, and then pointed out, "Dad has a thing and he's a man too."

"Prove it."

"Look next time we're in a public restroom, stupid! You think Tracy or Mom can use a urinal? Tracy had to squat behind those bushes on the camping trip last month for a reason."

"Maybe she was pooping?"

The sound of an imaginary eyebrow lifting incredulously is an awesome thing.

"I'm a girl!"

"You're not!"

"AM!"

"NOT!!"

"Miss?" The voice from the deli counter drifted in from behind me and I turned on a kind of auto pilot, while the two voices in my head battled it out. I know I gave my order, because a minute or two later, I had two packages from the lady. She smiled at me and never once gave indication that she'd identified me incorrectly.

"See?"

"I don't see. Whatever we may be in here doesn't change the reality between our legs." I said to myself; pointing out, "It's not like perception can change that.

With all that buzzing in my head, I thanked the woman as politely as I knew and turning, noticed Dad walking up with Stacy transferred to his back. At five, even that would tire Dad out soon.

I showed Dad the cheese and meat he'd sent me for and on a rogue impulse gave him a hug. I was confused inside even more than ever and needed to feel his strength and drink in his comforting scent. Too old or not, I needed the reassurance of a hug.

The way he tensed and eventually pried me off his leg told me how uncomfortable he was with this public display of affection from his 'son'. The separation was gentle, but insistent. I'd goofed again and felt a little worse for embarrassing him than comforted by his presence. The little voice in my head reminded me that I'd also felt the evidence of maleness we'd argued over before. He did have a thing.

There was no doubt that I did too, but there was also no doubt that I was and always had been a girl.

Just what I was supposed to do with the knowledge was another question…

Present Day

"There's a spot over there, by the Durango."

I blinked at Renee's statement and pulled myself out of the past. Nodding to Renee, I pulled in and made flicked the door lock release. "I'll stay here and make sure you get in okay."

"So that was it?" Renee, looked at me uncertainly. "A sudden epiphany and you were on your way?"

"Hardly," I grinned. "That was less a phase transition than a big bang. From void to gas as it were." Renee's face was a case study for incomprehension.

"Ok, transitioning I get, what's this phase thing?" She asked. "You want to come in for a little more talk? Maybe a nightcap or something?"

I glanced at the car's clock display. It was almost two. "You sure 'bout this?"

Renee nodded, opening her door. "I wanna hear about this Phase Transition thing."

"Not sure I should've mentioned it." I said swiveling my hips to allow my legs out onto the apartment's parking lot. "From the way you said you've always known your path, I'm not sure the analogy applies all that well to you." Checking to be sure my keys were attached to my bag, I closed the car door and followed the young woman to the foyer of her building. "Ummm, is there a roomie we need to keep quiet for?"

"Nope," Renee answered, climbing the stairs. "On a sa-er, Sunday morning this early, she'll be at her boyfriend's."

"Then maybe I should go and we can have this discussion online when I get home, or some other time."

"Za? What, like I need a chaperone? Renee turned to look at me. "I saw how 'eager' you were to hook up with that hunky Ian, and if you'd had any intentions toward me you woulda tried something in the car, no?" She turned her attention back to fitting the key into the doorknob. "So I think you're safe enough, Sarah." Opening the door and walking through, she added, "No, I think I'm safe enough with you, hon."

That one statement, so casually tossed off created a warm feeling inside and forced me in the door. Lights flared on and I had a look at the place my new friend called home. It was a smallish two bedroom affair that was typical for the neighborhood. Just within the confines of what could be termed cozy. Renee had the fridge open and was rustling about.

"Soda okay?" She called. "Looks like Sue drank all the tea and 'forgot' to make more."

Joining her in the kitchenette was going to be difficult but I felt the need to offer. "Diet if you have it. I overdid the whipped cream tonight. Need a hand?"

"Nope, just have a seat on the couch. I'll be there shortly." Renee called from the kitchen. "Sorry about the clothes. Had time to run laundry this morning, but… you know."

I settled in, only having to move a couple of stacks of clean laundry. "If this is the worst this place normally looks, I want to hire whichever of you two keeps it."

Renee passed in front of me then, handing me a Pepsi One and padding over to the computer desk sitting next to the TV and sound system. "Two secs." Was her only comment as she wakened the computer and booted Winamp. A few moments later, the soundtrack to Kiki's Delivery service was quietly playing through the apartment's sound system and Renee was gathering herself on the couch next to me. "Hope that's okay," She asked. I like to have background noise."
"No arguments from me." I replied, sipping from my glass. "Laputa may be my favorite Ghibli movie, but Kiki's soundtrack is wonderful to relax to."

"I know what you mean. When I update my blog tonight, I'll switch over to something a little more lively." Renee grinned. "So now back to our druthers. What's a phase transition?"

"In physics, I guess you could basically call it a change in state. Like chilled water vapor condensing to become liquid, then if chilled further, it becomes ice." I offered. "I guess you could say I use it as an analogy for those times when outside pressure and internal tendencies combine to produce a new outlook and direction."

Renee simply nodded and sipped her Pepsi, content to let me ramble for the moment. "When I said my… epiphany..." I rolled the word on my tongue and smiled. "I like that. When I said my epiphany was more akin to a big bang though, it's because, it never occurred to me before that point what was wrong, only that something was wrong."

"So you went from being 'void' of understanding to…" Renee said, taking my point and using it to encourage me to continue.

"Gas, vapor…" I said waving my free hand to illustrate. "I mean, knowing may be half the battle, but what happens if you don't know what to do with the knowledge?"

"Your parents?"

"When did you tell yours?"

"Point taken." Renee admitted. "Granted, I know my sisters were aware that I continued dressing, Jan even covered for me a few times. They didn't tell, as much from a sense of guilt over starting me dressing as loyalty to their younger sibling, I guess. In any case, no; I didn't tell the folks till I was applying to for scholarships and college."

"Sounds like an exciting Senior year."

"Actually I think it was for the best." Renee said. "By that time Mom and Dad were convinced I was gay and I think it was almost a relief to them to have just to have the other shoe drop. It wasn't as bad as I feared. I got Jan and Lizbet to hold my hand. Mom and Dad did insist I see a shrink of course."

I squeezed her free hand. "A little support can go a long way."

"Streuth." Renee grinned. "We did 'test runs' before the folks were convinced. I spent Christmas break in femme at home and never went back. By the Spring break week, I shifted up to living in femme everywhere but school. Messed with my social life a bit but Sue, my roomie and best -friend, was with me and convinced most of our friends to hang. Once I'd graduated, I was living full time and after I'd gotten into the groove of college life I got my scrip."

"Coolness."

"It wasn't as smooth sailing as I just made it sound of course, but it wasn't unbearable. What about you though?" Renee encouraged, "I can tell you must have been conflicted from your story."

"My, we are looking to chat the night away." I chuckled to and sipped. "I knew what I was inside. The mirror however, was depressingly clear...to me at least... as to what I was outside. Remember that this was the early seventies. No internet, heck home computers were still years away, and the only examples I had to work from were Max Klinger on M.A.S.H., Flip Wilson's Geraldine and Harvey Korman's cross-dressing in Carol Burnett show skits."

I expected a 'Gerald-who?', but Renee seemed content to let me ramble a bit. "Speaking to my parents seemed less an option than a way to place an order for a jacket that was all sleeves… Or an exorcism. My folks were really involved in at church and I was brought up with a pretty fundamentalist view of the world. There's a passage in Deuteronomy that seemed awfully on point in the matter."

"No woman shall wear an article of man's clothing nor shall a man put on a woman's dress; for those that do these things are abominable to the Lord your God." Renee recited. I raised an appreciative brow. "You do know that passage has been argued to apply to a whole other set of circumstances than ours."

"I've heard that and seen the commentaries, most of which are made by Rabbis and therefore don't show up in the literature we had at home." There was no bitterness in that statement. It was just the way things were. "I did come to realize years later that I was either the girl I thought I am and just in need of corrective surgery or that I'm Loony Tunes. In the former case, the dictate doesn't apply and if the latter… Well one hopes god can make allowances for madness he hasn't seen fit to lift from one, no?"

Turning the conversation to happier subjects than my own early years of gender confusion was difficult, but eventually I got Renee to regale me with stories of her childhood play with her sisters and eventual problems as she grew up and would 'sneak' clothing from her sisters.

"You wouldn't believe some of the idiocy I indulged in." she giggled, describing the 1st time she'd experimented with masquera on her own and failed to clean adequately.

"Everyone in class thought I was trying for a goth look, with my raccoon eyes. No doubt, that's when Sue twigged though. She pulled me aside and gave my eyes a through scrubbing between classes."

Renee went further to describe the time she'd taken a fancy to her eldest sister's (Lizbet) prom dress and split a seam along the bodice.

"If Jan hadn't been there to save my bacon, I might not be here today."

I laughed out loud at her descriptions of Lizbet's face and asked, "But she knew it was you immediately, how?"

"Well who else?" Renee sniggered. "Jan and I might have been close to the same size, but I'm the only one between the two of us who'd be dumb enough to violate the sancity of Lizbet's prom gown. Before she'd worn it to the prom, mind."

We continued on through until I glanced at my watch and noticed it was drifting toward 3 in the morning. I pleaded old age and made my way out with a promise to add Renee to my contact list on YIM.

"One question that's niggling at me" Renee asked as I crossed the doorway to leave. "About how big were you at 9?"

"I was prolly pushing five foot, why?"

"Big kid. And comparatively strong for your age because of it I bet."

I nodded dumbly. Although my size had drawn much attention as a kid in school, it had also allowed me to survive most of the resulting fights with little more damage than leaky eyes and bruised feelings. "Yeah…I got my growth spurt relatively early too." Things didn't really even out until high school my 5' 10" frame was less noticeable, but why Renee would pick on that puzzled me.

"So just how tight would you say that hug was if you could feel his thing?"

I blinked. That did nothing to clear the system crash that had just occurred in my brain. Further blinking was obviously called for while waiting for the task manager in my brain to catch up.

"I mean, do you think your Dad is..."

"Was." It came spilling out before I could stop it. The word did help clear the log jam in my head though.

"Oh... I'm sorry; I didn't know."

"S'ok." I said numbly. Dad might not have been embarrassed and disgusted with me for hugging him. "You couldn't know."

I felt a gentle touch on my arm and looked into Renee's brown eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah. You have any tissues?" I said as my brain finished rebooting and caught up to the fact that I was shaking and my eyes were leaking. "I just never considered...Dad..." A bunch of stuff wanted to come spilling out right then that was inappropriate to burden someone with whose acquaintance I'd made not eight hours before; no matter how close I thought we might become in the future. When Renee came rushing back with a whole box of Kleenex I accepted it and dabbed at my leaking eyes.

"Sarah, you need to crash out here tonight?"

"Thanks Renee that's kind of you, but I'm really okay. You just made something that's hurt a long time feel a lot better." I said editing the flood I was damming up. "You grow up thinking your Dad is a superman or something, you know? The idea that I might have simply been crushing him never occurred to me."

Renee looked a little uncertain, but I'd already assembled myself enough to keep her from dragging me back in. I did thank her again and kissed her cheek before heading back to my car.

There were more tears on the drive home, but they were happy tears, revising memories to allow for possibilities I'd never seen before.

When I'd gotten home and ready for bed, I slid between the covers with a smile. It had been a memorable evening and I wondered how I'd be entering it in my journal when I woke.

end gas pt.1

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Comments

Phase Transition

Well, hello there, NiGHTs! This is a very nice beginning to what promises to be an interesting tale. I'm looking forward to reading much more of it as it spills from your talented mind to your fingers and then to my monitor screen. Nicely done, my friend. Huggles from Cathy_t_

As a T-woman, I do have a Y chromosome... it's just in cursive, pink script. Y_0.jpg