How much is magic and how much is mystery?

Part 5 - Meeting the Elephant

by Wanda Cunningham

Chapter 10

Options

When I had all my clothes back on, we gathered in Dr. Estevez office. He sat in his big swivel chair beside his desk, not behind it, and we all sat in front of him with Mom between Dad and me. Dr. Estevez spoke directly to me, he'd already told my parents this while I was getting dressed. "I can't tell anything for certain without more tests; blood tests, x-rays, maybe an MRI, tissue samples for DNA tests. But, from what your folks have told me, Ethan, I can suggest some things that might explain what is happening to you. Your Mom and Dad have said that you should be told."

I glanced at them. Dad looked grim, Mom looked worried. "It's okay, Ethan. It's probably something that can be fixed."

Fixed? I blinked and looked back at Dr. Estevez.

"Ethan, when you were born you had what your doctors considered a minor birth defect. They persuaded your parents to let them surgically--repair--this problem. Nowadays, the standards of care suggest waiting as long as possible before surgical intervention."

"Huh?"

"You appeared to have what is known as a hypospadias. This is a condition in a male in which the opening of the urethra is on the underside or at the base of the penis rather than at the end."

"The pee-hole?" I asked.

"Yes. In your case, the doctors decided that your--penis--could easily be repaired. Perhaps someone wanted to write a paper." He made a face. "What they didn't tell your parents is that apparently the scrotal tissues were incompletely fused as well, so they--repaired--that, too."

I mulled that over a moment after I quit blushing from the explanation of what scrotal meant. Again, had the magic altered the past, provided some memories for Mom and Dad that would help explain things to them? Or, even stranger to contemplate in some ways, had this always been true? That nearly creeped me out and probably showed in my face.

Mom put an arm around me and murmured, "It's okay, honey. We're sorry we never told you this..." she trailed off. Embarrassment and guilt made her voice choke up. I glanced past her to Dad's face and saw a smouldering anger there.

"None of this is your fault, Ethan," Dad said. I guess he realized that his expression had scared me. He reached across Mom and we all three held hands for a moment. It did make me feel better, somehow.

Dr. Estevez continued, "Now your body seems to be producing hormones of the type developing young girls have, not the mix young boys experience. And apparently it has been doing this for sometime since your skeletal structure is far more female than male. It's not even really the immature androgyny of a child, but I can't tell more without an x-ray." He explained some things about male/female differences in hip joints, elbow bends and finger lengths.

I must have finally been cried out because no tears fell. My eyes stung and I felt my face twist as if I were weeping. Mom and I hugged each other. "It's not true is it?" I asked her.

"Well, we don't know for sure, honey?" she said.

Dad and Dr. Estevez sat there, dry-eyed and for the most part expressionless as Mom and I worked through a bit of the pain we felt. "We should have told you what we did know..." Mom sighed.

"Mom," I told her, "you would have scared the crap out of me." We both sniggered a little and got the crying under control after that.

"We should never have let those idiots experiment on you," Dad said. "That's what they were doing because they had no way of knowing how things would turn out."

"What they did was common practice, still is, in some places," Dr. Estevez said. "I'm not making excuses for them, I feel they were wrong. But our society isn't set up to deal with anyone whose gender or sex is ambiguous. They were probably trying to decide what to put on the birth certificate."

That almost got me crying again. Mom said, "One of the nurses at the delivery told me you were a girl...then the doctors said you were a boy...I didn't know what to think." She wiped her eyes, "We had a girl's name picked out for you, Megan Alexis...." I knew that "Megan's Promise" had been one of Mom's early books, it sat way to the right on the long bookshelf in our new dining room. And Dad's first name is Alexander, just like my own current middle name. Dad hadn't let Mom name any of the other kids after him but since I was planned as their last child, he'd let her give me one of his names. Megan Alexis....

"Then the doctors came and told us you were a boy," said Dad. His fists clenched, "We trusted them."

Had the magic changed the past? It must have, none of these things had been true the day before yesterday, they couldn't have been. "You're telling me I've always been a girl? I just didn't know it?" I said to the doctor.

"Perhaps, at least in one sense. We don't know for certain without further tests. But, Ethan," he emphasized my name, "you've been raised as a boy for almost fourteen years. That counts for something. Your parents aren't going to force you to do something you don't want to do. We need to do more tests; you need to see some doctors, specialists with expertise I don't have." He leaned forward, "And then someday, you'll have a choice to make. And even choosing not to choose is a choice."

Dad looked sharply at him. "Is that a realistic option?"

"Today is not the world you and I grew up in," said Dr. Estevez. "There are social groups and support groups to offer information and consultation that didn't exist even five years ago. Ethan, the catch-all term for people with your sort of problem is 'intersex' or 'intersexed'. About one child in every 300 or so is born with some sort of genital ambiguity. You're not alone."

I wondered goofily if there were support groups for people who had been cursed by jealous fairies, but I didn't say anything about that. I didn't want to appear crazy; messed-up was okay, they don't lock you up for that but talking about eight-inch-tall monarchs, fairy liquor, etc. just wasn't a good idea.

Doctor Estevez told us he couldn't order any tests for me on a Saturday unless I was admitted to the hospital or at least the emergency room. This wasn't really an emergency and even if admitted, little would be done before Tuesday. He supplied Mom and Dad with the names and phone numbers of some specialists and promised to be ready to schedule tests if Mom called his office early on Tuesday. Then he walked with us to the lobby.

We all shook hands with him there, me last. He held my hand and I looked into those dark luxurious eyes and heard that mellow bass voice say, "I wish I could help you make a decision."

Bells rang somewhere and tingles shot from where his skin touched me to someplace deep within me. It might have been magic, it might have been sex. "I think you just did, doctor," I squeaked. I'm either a girl or I'm gay, I decided; no one else would react to Dr. Estevez in that same way.

My parents and I walked toward the cars, talking about where to stop and have dinner on the way home--deliberately, without consulting each other--avoiding Topic A. Dad led the way and I rode with Mom. "Ethan?" she said.

"Umm?" I had been wondering which was worse, to be gay or to be turned into a girl.

"The doctor asked me if you had been having--cramps--lately, did he ask you that?"

"Uh-huh. Remember just before we moved, I felt kinda sick for three or four days?"

"I remember. I remembered also that you had had the same thing in late July, just before my birthday."

"Oh, yeah."

"And then in early July, before the Fourth."

I smiled. "I almost missed Adam's attempt at barbecue."

Mom paused. "Ethan, for six or eight months that I know of, you've had cramping for at least a day or two before my period started."

I didn't say anything. The implications tried to sink in but kept bouncing off my shields.

"It might have been going on longer than that," Mom went on. "Some of the times, you would have been in the hospital with asthma or bronchitis. But remember, almost two years ago? Phoebe was in the junior class play and opening night, all three of us came down with the 'stomach flu'?"

"What are you saying, Mom?"

She sighed. "What I'm saying, honey, is that I think you've been having periods for about two years now. Girls and women who live together tend to get synchronized. I get cramps, too, but I take something for them and so does Phoebe when it gets bad. But..."

"Mom!" I yelped. "I...don't you bleed down there when you have a period? I never bled and...and the cramps weren't like that, not like that...."

"Honey, you can't bleed. Those idiots sewed that part shut when you were a baby."

I boggled on that a bit, more than a bit, really. I felt as if someone had shook up a bottle of Coke and made the bubbles go up into my brain. I missed something Mom said and asked her to repeat it.

"I said, any blood that doesn't get out, gets re-absorbed by your body. And that might make the cramps worse, I don't know."

"I've got PMS," I said, wonderingly. "I really am a girl."

"Internally, it looks that way. The doctor didn't want to say so, and your father probably won't believe it until it's proven. They're logical scientists. But I'm a fiction writer. I think it's true, honey. I'm sorry."

"Could they fix things down there, so I'm like...other girls?" I hadn't meant to ask that either, it just came out.

She blinked. "I suppose so. Or they could fix things another way, remove the girl parts and give you hormones to help you grow up to be a man like your brothers."

"Mom," I said. "You know I'm not going to grow up to be like Sean or Adam."

She sighed.

Ahead of us, Dad pulled into the parking lot for a big coffee shop.

I made a noise.

"What is it, honey? You're not crying again, are you?"

"I'm trying not to laugh," I said.

"Why?"

"Uh, Mom, did you notice how handsome Dr. Estevez is? Those eyes, his voice, he's so tall..."

"I believe I did notice those things," she admitted.

"So did I."

"Have you been...noticing boys?"

"Only recently."

"Well," she said, pulling in to park beside Dad's car. "Let's not mention that to your father just yet."

"Okay," I agreed. "I wouldn't know how to tell him, anyway. Mom?"

"What?" She set the brakes and put the car in park.

"Dad's a hunk, too, isn't he?"

She grinned and nodded. "Yes, he is." We both sniggered about that.

"What are you two laughing about?" Dad asked as we got out of the cars.

"You," Mom said bluntly and kissed him.

He snorted and kissed back.

"Please!" I said. "You guys! We're in public here!"

Dad laughed. "Phoebe used to say the same thing," he noted.

---

Chapter 11

The Elephant

In the restaurant, we took a back booth for some extra privacy. At first, we didn't discuss the elephant we shared the booth with but after the waitress took our order, Dad turned to me and said, "Ethan, it looks like you have the opportunity to make a choice most people don't get."

"Huh," I said intelligently.

He nodded. "I've been thinking about it. One way or another, whichever cause this problem has, you seem to have at least two paths open in front of you."

Mom and I just boggled at him.

"You can, of course, decide you want to stay 'Ethan', a boy. They'll be able to make that happen for you, perhaps a little surgery and some hormones; it seems as if they can do a lot in that area, these days."

I gulped.

"Or," Dad went on. "Or you can choose to become the daughter that maybe we should have brought home from the hospital the first time. That might also involve some surgery and hormones."

"Alec," my mom said.

"Shh." Dad waved at her. "Wait till I finish."

I just sat there with my mouth hanging open.

"A third possiblity is you just let happen what happens and see how things turn out." Dad paused. "I think you owe it to yourself to explore your options while you still have time, before nature or whatever makes some sort of choice for you."

"What the heck are you saying?" Mom demanded. So much for her supposition that Dad wouldn't believe any of this until it had been proven.

"I think Ethan knows a great deal already about being a boy. I think perhaps he ought to consider, well, trying out his other options." Dad didn't look like he was kidding at all.

"Huh?" I said again.

"Ethan, if you took six months or a year to try living as a girl, well, then you might know more about how you want to spend the rest of your life."

"I don't believe it," Mom said flatly.

I just stared at him.

"Look, Ethan, if you decide you want to definitely go one way or the other, well you're only thirteen now..."

"Almost fourteen," Mom pointed out.

"Almost fourteen," Dad agreed. "In a year, you'll be almost fifteen. Still young enough to start any sort of treatment you decide you need to fit yourself into whichever role you choose."

"Logical," Mom said. "Alec, I forget sometimes how logical you are." Logical, I wondered?

"I know," said Dad. "You're just as astonished when I tell you that I favor one of your liberal causes for entirely pragmatic reasons. I'm logical and practical, you're romantic and imaginative; it's why we make such a good team." He grinned at her.

I giggled nervously.

Mom looked at me. "Honey, I think you don't need to make any decisions right away..."

"Well, maybe not tonight," Dad interrupted. "But this is the perfect time to make a life change, to try out a new identity. Didn't you say that almost everyone you've met so far thinks you're a girl, already?"

"Guck," I agreed.

"Alec," Mom said again.

"And we just moved here, if you were to do a--a life trial, here, for however long, well, we could either move again or something, if you decided you still wanted to be a boy." Dad's proposition did sound logical. Who would have thought that my dad would favor Plan B? But what if the fairies made me grow a beard or turn into Quasimodo or something during this life trial?

The strangest thing about the proposition was the almost unbearable lightness in my chest that contemplating it caused. I didn't know what to do but for Dad to make the suggestion made me happy in some odd and surprising way.

"Alec, are you sure this would be a good idea?" Mom asked.

"Well, no. That's the point, to see if it would be a good idea. No matter what happens, Ethan, you're our kid and always will be. You understand that, don't you?"

I nodded. Dad's words were almost echoes of Mom's earlier assurance. I felt doubly loved and even happier than I had been. I was also almost scared out of my skin. Not just by the thought of trying to live for a year or six months as a girl but by the fact that the idea had a huge amount of attraction for me.

"He doesn't need any pressure on this, Alec," Mom warned.

"No pressure," Dad assured me. "I think it would be the smart thing to do, though." He smiled at me with a tenderness I hadn't seen in his eyes in years. Maybe he had thought he should withhold some of that feeling for a boy named Ethan. But I caught a glimpse there of how he might regard a daughter, enough that I almost burst into tears again.

Our food came and we stopped talking about the elephant for a while. It surprised me how much appetite I had, I ate all my salad and burger and almost half of my fries. Dad went up to pay the bill while Mom and I headed toward the restrooms. I almost followed Mom into the Women's but stopped myself and went into the correct bathroom. Well, I went into the Men's room, though it did feel a bit odd.

I used a stall, trying not to think too much about it but when I came out of the little enclosure, a middle-aged man turning from having used one of the urinals blushed bright red when he saw me. I turned red, too. "TheothersidewasallfullandIreallyhadtogo!" I said in a rush and ran out of the room without even washing my hands.

Dad was waiting at the door for us and I went directly toward him, still blushing. He looked at me curiously then stepped outside and away from the door, I followed him so we could talk. "What happened?" he asked.

"A man, in the bathroom, um, he must have thought I was a girl?"

Dad's expression gave very little away but his eyes twinkled. I pushed my lips together tightly to keep from giggling. Mom came out about that time and looked at our expressions and scowled. "That man is complaining to the manager about you, honey," she said.

"Yikes!"

"Let's get out of here," Dad said. We headed toward the cars.

"Let's wait quite a while before we ever come back," Mom added and I had to suppress more giggles.

At the cars, Dad said, "Ride home with me, Ethan." Mom nodded so I climbed into the passenger side of Dad's car.

"We don't spend a lot of time together," Dad observed.

"You work and I go to school," I said.

"I know," Dad said. "Still, it's a pity. I spent more time with your brothers, I think, even though I was in the military back then. I'm sorry."

"Well, I'm just not into a lot of the same stuff...."

"You've never liked football," Dad said.

"No." We all went to games when one of my brothers had been playing but I had never been interested in watching football on T.V.

We didn't say anything more until Dad had steered us onto the freeway. I watched the city darken. The skies above the whole area around Riverside are always full of moving lights, there are lots of military, commercial and private airfields. Once upon a time, I had wanted to be a pilot. That childish dream seemed almost closer now than my ordinary expectation last week that I would grow up to be a man.

But it didn't hurt at all to realize that I might now have a better chance of marrying a pilot than being one. It did make my face feel warm, though.

"What are you thinking about, Ethan?" Dad asked.

"I guess I'm thinking about what you said."

"It's an odd situation, isn't it?"

"You can say that again."

"Your mom told me that you got asked for a date? One of the neighbor boys?"

I blushed again. You'd think I'd wear that mechanism out with overuse. "Yeah, his name is Phillip and he has a horse named Roland."

"Which one asked you for the date?"

"Daddy!" I said and realized that I sounded exactly like Phoebe did when Dad kidded her about dating and boyfriends. "It's embarrassing enough without you teasing me."

"I'm sorry, punkin." He used his nickname for Phoebe and sometimes for Mom and I gulped.

We were quiet again for a few miles. I turned my head and watched his profile. A very masculine face my dad had and so did my brothers. I pulled down the sunshade and looked at my own face in the lighted mirror on the back. I tried to imagine having a moustache like Adam had, or a beard like Dad had grown during six months in Alaska one time. I couldn't do it, it kept looking like crayons on a photograph in my imagination. Or like my sister in some ridiculous makeup.

"Do you really not care which way I decide?" I asked my father.

"I wouldn't say that," he said. "I do care, I want you to make the best decision for you. The one that will make you happiest."

I sighed.

"I do think you should give it a chance, honey. I mean, try it for awhile, living as a girl."

I gulped.

"You might like it."

"I think that's what I'm afraid of," I said. "It would be like giving up being who I've thought I was all my life."

"Um," said Dad. We got off the freeway and onto the twisty state road that led to Pine View, for the first eight miles or so still four lanes wide. Neither of us said anything while Dad concentrated on driving. It had still been a sort of lingering twilight when we left Riverside but now, on this side of the mountain, the darkness had become complete. Thin clouds hid most of the stars and the moon had not yet risen over the eastern peaks.

Dad spoke again when we turned off the highway onto Pine Ridge Road. "I wish you would give it a try, honey. It's the only way you'll ever know which you prefer."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Even over the engine noise, I thought I heard the fairy bells ring and I knew Dad's wish had been granted. I would try living as a girl for a time. The moon rose just then, over the mountain, under the clouds, lighting them below and above with a silver purity so agonizingly beautiful I felt it like a knife under my ribs.

That's six I thought, six wishes; me, Molly, Mom, Phillip, the doctor and now Daddy. How many more were there going to be? Would all the wishes affect only me? And would all of them, except my first, be aimed at turning me into a girl?

"Okay, Daddy," I said. "I'll do it. Even though it scares the crap out of me."

He laughed, "Young ladies don't use the word 'crap' when talking to their fathers."

I giggled, a bit hysterically, maybe. I had trouble with my breathing but not the usual sort where I couldn't take a breath. Instead, I felt as if I were breathing too fast.

Dad triggered the remote and the garage door at Number Nine rolled up out of our way. Mom wasn't home yet, but she couldn't be far behind us. We parked on the left side of the garage, his side, but then we just sat there looking at each other. "Megan was the name we had picked out for you," he said.

I nodded, nervously. "Mom told me, Megan Alexis. But Phillip thinks my name is Eden."

"As in Paradise?" Daddy grinned.

My face got hot, my ears seemed to be ringing and I looked away. Something else about the wishes niggled at my mind, something I should remember but didn't. My breathing was still out of control, one breath per heartbeat.

"You can pick your own name, honey," he said, but the world began to spin just then and all my strength drained away. I barely heard Dad's voice for the roaring in my ears. Oh, yeah. This always happens after a wish, and it gets worse each time. It's as if the wish really comes out of me, and it costs me something in energy. And sanity, probably.

Maybe I had a choice about granting wishes? I tried to seize that thought and do something with it but it slipped away from me into a darkness that reached out and swallowed me up as well.

---

continued in [B is for Boy]

Read More [The Fairy King]