Marilyn's Impossible Dream, or She's So Pretty -- Chapters 25 and 26

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Marilyn's Impossible Dream, or She's So Pretty — Chapters 25 and 26


By Katherine Day


(Copyright 2011)



Merritt Lane McGraw feels he is a girl, but he is living through the Great Depression and World War II. It is a period before the words “crossdresser” and “transgender” were in the vocabulary and a time before sexual assignment surgery was a possibility. Is he a boy or a girl? His confusion leads him into many strange encounters.

(The Story Thus Far: Born out of wedlock in 1929, Merritt Lane McGraw has spent nearly all of his first five years with his mother while she worked as a live-in maid and nanny for a wealthy young widow and her two daughters. Merritt’s mother, Evelyn, found herself in a torrid love affair with Viola Buckner, her employer, while the women’s daughters loved to treat Merritt as a little girl. Merritt was becoming more and more like a girl. To escape the demanding sexual encounters with her employer (which Evelyn feels is sinful) and to take her son away from the feminine atmosphere of the estate, Evelyn left the Buckners and returned home to live with her parents. She soon married Bob Casey, the library clerk and former high school classmate, and they have moved into a second floor apartment above a craft and sewing supply store. Merritt’s days of enjoying “girl time” appear to have ended now that there’s a man in the house.

(Merritt’s stepfather has gone off to war, and was killed in the terrible battle of Tarawa in November, 1943, posthumously being awarded the Navy Cross. Merritt’s mother meantime has taken a job in a war plant making parachutes, and Merritt takes over her dress-making business, which he finds to be a natural fit. Now a high school student, he finds comfort only in being a girl, but still seeks to fit in as a boy.

(Merritt has ventured out as a girl, and his natural femininity attracts the eyes of high school boys as well as a high school girl, with whom he goes to bed. Their innocence — typical for youth of that period — makes for limited sexual experiences, but with much passion, girl-to-girl.

(Yet, he tries to fit in as a boy, believing his hopes of ever living as a girl in the 1940s and1950s would be nearly impossible. His growing femininity has brought him into more adventures as a girl, confusing him even more as he tries to fit in at school. Now in his sophomore high school year, Merritt finds his effort to become more and more masculine challenged. As summer vacation begins, Merritt’s natural beauty and charm attracts new boys to his complicated life.)

Chapter 25: Finally, Peacetime

Bill Johnson charged into the workshop at Swenson’s on the late afternoon of Aug. 6, 1945, interrupting Merritt at the sewing machine.

“Turn on the radio,” he demanded, breathlessly.

“Why?” Merritt asked.

“We’ve dropped a big bomb on Japan, the biggest in history,” he said.

“Oh?” Merritt got up, turning to the old Philco cathedral style radio, sitting on a table. He often turned it on to the music station, but didn’t have it on that day.

Merritt rose and turned on the station, waiting for it to warm up, before turning the dial to 610 and WRDJ, the Riverdale Daily Journal station that usually had the best news coverage.

“. . . and the bomb is said to equal 100 blockbusters,” the announcer said.

“Yes, can you imagine?” Bill said. “How could we drop such a thing?”

“Shhhhh,” Merritt said, trying to listen.

“The bomb is apparently the new secret weapon,” the announcer continued, “That the United States has been perfecting and early reports tell us that full square miles of the city of Hiroshima have been destroyed.”

“How awful?” Merritt said.

“I know,” Bill added. He had been growing more and more adamant about the cruelty of war and of looking for ways to end wars forever. This latest bombing attack by the U.S. seemed to strengthen his views.

“But it could end the war soon,” Merritt suggested.

“I guess, but doesn’t this seem wrong for the U.S. to do.”

“Maybe, but just think of the lives saved if we can get Japan to surrender.”

It was a traumatic moment for both of them and would have an impact upon their lives they could not foresee at that moment.

*****
Within 10 days,
the Japanese surrendered, and the war ended. Never had Riverdale seen such a celebration, as people flooded Grand Avenue again, but this time in even greater numbers, since it meant the long sacrifices of war were about to end. It also meant, more importantly, that the husbands and sons of virtually every family would soon come home from the wars. Some families, like Evelyn McGraw and her son, Merritt, would have no husband and stepfather returning from the war; for such families it was a bittersweet moment.

Viola, now driving a sparkling 1941 Cadillac, picked up Evelyn, as well as Merritt and his friend, Bill Johnson, to take them downtown to join in the celebration.

As he had done most of the summer, Merritt was dressed in jeans, with cuffs rolled up, white ankle socks, saddle shoes, with his hair tied in a bun. Bill loved his girlish look, and the two held hands in the backseat of the Cadillac as Viola drove, finding a spot several blocks from all the celebrations. Merritt felt Bill’s finger lightly caressing his slender wrists, and he responded by moving his legs tightly against Bill’s, nestling snuggly. While Viola was busy navigating the car through pedestrian traffic, Bill even stole a kiss. It was a quick kiss, but Merritt felt so excited, as any girl would.

“I love you, Marilyn,” Bill said as they wound their way down Grand Avenue, holding hands. Merritt was convinced that anyone seeing them would see two teens, one tall, spindly boy and a slender, cute girl.

Judging from the number of requests Merritt got from boys to give them a “victory kiss,” it was clear everyone else thought the same.

The two lost track of Viola and Evelyn, and, as they had all agreed, they’d get home on their own. Merritt knew his mother would likely end up the evening in Viola’s bed. Nothing was said, but Merritt hoped Bill would end up in the McGraw apartment later in the evening. After all, it was V-J Day, and it was a time for celebration!

The two took the No. 11 streetcar home about 8 p.m. that night, just as darkness was setting in, and much of the crowd on Grand Avenue was getting more drunken and disorderly. Neither enjoyed the sight of such behavior, and Merritt agreed with Bill it was time to go home.

Merritt made lemonade and popcorn for the two when they reached the apartment, and Bill lounged on the sofa, listening to news reports on the radio about the war. Merritt retreated to his bedroom to change his clothes and freshen up.

He would become “Marilyn” for the night, he decided. It was a time to celebrate and to become himself, which he figured was to become the girl he felt he always was. Besides, Bill would be pleased he knew.

He gave himself a quick sponge bath, using feminine-scented soap and dabbing a subtly sweet perfume on his neck. He brushed his hair and it fell into its natural flow, with a gentle curl at the ends as it flowed in the neck area. Merritt touched it off with red lipstick and some light peach-colored rouge. He smiled at the pretty face in the mirror.

Merritt put on full-sized panties and fastened a training bra in the back. He was as adept as any girl, he thought, in being able to put on a bra. Looking in the mirror, he cursed silently to himself: “Why can’t I have nice breasts?” He didn’t want any over-sized breasts, though; he wanted smallish breasts that would complement his rather small, fragile body.

His eyes wandered to a photo of his stepfather in a frame on the dress. Bob Casey was in his sailor’s uniform, his white sailor’s cap just slightly askew giving a jaunty appearance. It was a photo he had taken and mailed from San Diego, just before boarding the LST for his trip to the South Pacific, a trip from which he would never return.

Merritt’s stepfather looked out from the picture, smiling with pride; he had just attained the rank of Radioman Third Class, and the patch on his sleeve, Merritt could see, was sparklingly new.

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes, as he looked at his stepfather’s picture, realizing how happy Bob Casey would have been on this day of victory. Merritt knew Casey had served his country well, and that he was like so many others who gave their lives for the United States. He picked up the picture, held it in his hands and began to cry. Why did his stepfather, a man Merritt had grown to love for his patience and sweetness, have to die?

His sobbing grew loud, even to prompt Bill to come from the living room, and inquire: “Are you all right?”

Merritt stood there, still in his bra and panties, holding the picture and crying. Bill came to his side, holding Merritt in his arms, caressing him, as Merritt buried his face into Bill’s neck, sobbing heavily.

“He died serving our country,” Bill said, seeking to comfort his friend.

“I . . . know.”

The tears finally subsided and Bill guided Merritt to the bed. Soon the two were engulfed in each other’s arms, the lovely girl and her tall, gangling friend.

*****
Evelyn was a laid off from her job at the hosiery works at the start of 1946, as the company’s contract to make parachutes ended with the end of the war. The hosiery plant, at one time the biggest in the nation, was struggling under the postwar economy, since the development of nylon during the war had made much of its operations obsolete.

“It’s OK, honey,” she explained to Merritt when shed returned home from work on a cold January day to tell him she and many of the wartime workers were being laid off.

“Oh but, mom, I knew you made lots of money there,” he said.

“I know, honey, but I can now devote fulltime to the sewing shop. You’ve made it into such a good business, dear.”

He smiled. The shop, still working out of Swenson’s Craft store, had grown so busy that Merritt had to refuse customers; he had trouble keeping up with the work, even with the hiring of Dolores Graham. In truth, he was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by the constant demands of work, even though he loved the designing of dresses and making women feel happy and good about themselves.

*****
His friend, Bill, had begun a “peace campaign” in the high school. “This should be the last war we ever fight,” he told anyone and everyone who would listen to him. “We need a ‘United States of the World.’” He had drafted Merritt to the cause and about a dozen other students. They formed a group called “Students for World Peace,” and even got school approval for the organization, making it possible for them to post notices, hold meetings and talk about the idea.

It kind of happened that Bill made himself leader of the group, and he nominated Merritt as its secretary.

“You’re an obvious choice, Merritt,” he said, when Merritt balked at the idea. “You’re a great typist and you can even take some shorthand.”

“But I’m so busy at the shop,” Merritt argued.

“Don’t you believe in world peace?” Bill challenged him.

“Of course, it’s just that . . .”

“Then you’ll do it.”

Merritt did the job, and he found he liked writing materials to try to persuade them that a federal world government, modeled after the United States, would bring world peace. He felt his efforts were in honor of his stepfather.

The group, of course, faced much derision from many of the students.

“A bunch of fairies,” one boy kept saying. “They’re afraid they’ll be drafted.”

“What a bunch of dreamers!” said others.

But most of the teachers seemed to like the idea; his Social Studies teacher even gave Merritt time in class to outline the idea, and then opened the class to a full discussion. Merritt was surprised at how eloquent he could be in front of the class, though at first he was frightened at the prospect. He was always self-conscious about his slight girlish physique, but in fact most of his fellow students hardly paid much attention to it. Most were more concerned with their own bodies, it seemed.

His comments did raise much discussion in the class, and Merritt was surprised at how many students agreed with him. There were a few concerns raised that the idea was too impractical, but no one derided the presentation.

“Can I join your group?” Sally Orlowski asked as the pair walked home from school. “You made a lot of sense.”

Merritt and Sally, now both juniors, had continued their friendship, after first meeting in typing class, where Merritt had won the reputation of both being the fastest typist and the only boy among the girls. Their friendship was one of shared interests, both in their growing skills in secretarial work as well as in public issues, mainly the war. She, too, raised as a Catholic and a regular mass-goer at St. Patrick’s, had been questioning the basis of their faith. Therefore the question of whether there was a God, or whether the Catholic Church was just an evil concoction of mortal men, often occupied their talks.

Their conversations took place in their walks to and from school, and often at lunch time in the cafeteria, when Sally often joined him. He was able usually to get to the cafeteria before her, since his last class before lunch was nearby.

Sally, always kind of a waif-like person, was beginning to fill out a bit; her hips seemed to widen and her once tiny breasts were more robust. With her limited wardrobe, coming from a poor home in the flats, Sally however rarely attracted attention. Merritt and Sally, both considered “nobodies” in the school, made a perfect pair.

Sometime Bill Johnson joined them, or Amy O’Hara, whose Irish vivaciousness always brightened the group.

“You spend lots of time with Sally,” one of his tennis teammates mentioned one day. “You getting any?”

Merritt reddened. He never considered himself to be a boy who was out to “get any;” yet, he knew boys of that era were supposed to be on the prowl for “a piece of tail,” as the phrase often went.

“No, we’re just friends,” was his reply.

And, it was true. He had never considered dating Sally, not that she wasn’t a desirable female. All of his friendships with girls had been of the Platonic nature; it had been true of his relations with Donna Mae and Edith, the girls he knew the longest. It was especially true with Dolores, a girl he once dated in the traditional sense, but with whom he felt uncomfortable, except when he was in his “Marilyn” mode.

“I just like being with girls, being a part of their conversations,” he explained to Dolores once during his frequent outings with her.

The two friends had developed a close, honest friendship. She fit into his life, much as Bill Johnson did, as a true friend who accepted Merritt as someone not only a bit different, but perhaps somewhat special.

Throughout his junior year, Merritt had been able to function with few insults for his obvious feminine style of dress and behaviors. The fact that he had won a letter for being on the varsity tennis team and that he often wore the letter sweater, just to show off his meager athletic prowess, helped him to overcome many taunts, he felt.

The “Students for World Peace” had attracted some two dozen regular participants, and Sally was to become one of the most active members. At first, Bill Johnson questioned Sally’s true interest in the group, wondering whether her real reason stemmed from having a “crush” on Merritt. He still viewed Merritt as a girl, and his concerns came from a natural jealousy, since he hated seeing his friend grow into a more masculine boy, with an interest in girls.

Sally truly had no interest in Merritt as a “boy friend,” even though she was currently without a boy friend, having dumped Tom earlier in the year for his continued boorish attitudes. The girl truly felt the country should figure out a way to have world peace; she became eloquent about it many times, and both Merritt and Bill came to enjoy her eager presence in the group.

Chapter 26: Prom Times

By February of 1946, Evelyn began working fulltime in the sewing workshop, taking over more and more responsibility from Merritt. He continued to work after school and weekends in the shop, but he now had more time to his studies and to his own activities. No longer did he feel responsible for assuring that the dresses would be finished on time. That was his mother’s responsibility.

There was even time for him to work on the Junior Prom committee, having been drafted by Amy O’Hara. “You have a natural artistic talent. You can help us decorate,” she told him, her blue eyes sparkling from her round freckled face.

He had given Amy some ideas about clothes that the girl had adopted and she had found the ideas to help her look particularly fetching. “You know how to make a girl look good,” she told him one day at lunch, planting a swift kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, I’m glad.”

“Patrick loves it,” she said, referring to her boy friend.

Merritt had suggested clothes that would make her somewhat plump figure fetching and eye-catching, and he was happy that the ideas succeeded.

Again, little did he know when he accepted the committee assignment that he’d be the only boy. It seemed again that he was being thrust into the lacy, frilly world of girlhood. He enjoyed the prospect.

*****
Merritt found working with the committee of about eight girls and himself on the prom a great deal of fun. They were always giggling and gossiping, and Merritt joined in eagerly. He was working on decorations, and had even gotten Bill to help put together a stage back drop. It would be a combination of flowers cutout from colored paper and twigs, artfully arranged on a sheet of light blue cloth. (No one else knew it, but the cloth was from an old bed sheet which Merritt dyed. In those days, there was not a lot of money to be spent on decorations, and many had to be home-made.)

Two weeks before the prom, Merritt still had no date. Both Amy and Sally had been hanging around Merritt a lot, but he was uncertain they’d entertain his invitation to the prom. Given his disastrous “date” with Dorothy, he was frightened of what would happen should he invite either one of them.

Yet, it was expected that all members of the committee attend the prom with dates.

“Aren’t you going to the prom?” his friend, Bill asked him early in that week.

“I don’t have a date,” Merritt responded. “Do you?”

“Yes, I’m going with Sally,” he said. “Why don’t you ask Amy?”

“She’s got a date already.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, Merritt, I think she likes you. You could have asked her sooner.”

“I didn’t think she’d say yes.”

“Oh, you’re a fool. Quite underestimating yourself.”

“I just don’t know,” Merritt said, hating himself for his queasiness around the idea of “dating” and having a “girl friend.”

“Actually,” Bill said, a conspiratorial smile on his face, “I wanted to ask you! You would have made the prettiest girl on the dance floor. We make a nice couple.”

Merritt smiled at that, and did an abbreviated feminine twirl, almost ending in a curtsey, which brought a chorus of cheers from the handful of girls also working in the middle off the gym floor, surveying the scene for the decorating ideas. He blushed, suspecting that all he did was enhance his reputation as a “fairy” or “sissy.” He didn’t consider himself either; he just kept wondering whether he wasn’t really a girl.

In the end, he prevailed upon Dorothy to join him as his “prom date.” They’d double-date with Bill and Sally, and he was certain the four would have a fun time, without too much pressure being exerted on Merritt to act as a “stud,” or typical boy of his age.

*****
It did indeed turn out to be a prom night of innocent fun, ending with some brief “necking” while parking on the road in Washington Park. The “necking” time was cut short, as the police began shooing the parkers out of the park, virtually all of them high school prom-goers driving their parents’ cars. Virtually no high school students drove cars to school; nor did parents bring them. Students walked, took public transportation or rode bikes. And few had enough dollars to rent a motel room or stage a post-prom party.

Bill’s father ordered that the boy must be home by 2 a.m. with the car, and Bill was still fresh from getting his license and was still a bit concerned about his own ability to drive safely.

“You still kiss like Marilyn,” Dolores whispered, as the pair kissed briefly in the back seat.

“Oh,” Merritt said. “Is that bad?”

She initiated an even harder kiss, her hand caressing his thigh. “That’s how I like it.”

And he returned the kiss, firmly, only to be interrupted by a spotlight shinning on the car parked behind them. He broke off the kiss, saying, “We better go, the cops are chasing us out.”

Bill and Sally broke their embrace, and Bill said, “Damn,” starting the car, a 1939 Chevrolet, and driving off.

*****
The following Sunday, Dolores and Merritt went to a movie; afterwards, at Morgan’s Sweet Shoppe,
the pair took a booth at the back.

“Merritt, now you have to return the favor. I have a request for you.”

“What favor?”

She laughed. “What favor? Well, I went to the prom with you and you were Merritt, not Marilyn. I prefer Marilyn.”

“Thank you for going, but what can I do for you?”

“Come to the Angel’s prom next week.”

“Sure.”

“But you’ll have to come as Marilyn,” she said.

“As Marilyn? You mean I’d be your date and we’d be like two girls?”

“No silly,” she said. “I got a date with David Schofield and his buddy was supposed to take Janet McCarthy, but Janet got the measles over the weekend and she’ll be quarantined.”

“What? I’m supposed to be a blind date? As Marilyn? Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Please, David said this boy has already rented a tux and it seems all the girls I know are already taken. David said he’s nice and won’t try anything.”

“You don’t know his name? His school?”

“No, but he goes to Lincoln, like David does.”

Merritt said he’d think about it, but felt that in the end, he would agree to go as Marilyn. He had to admit dressing up for a prom excited him; even as he mulled the strange request over in his mind, he pictured himself all prettied up, looking the picture of teenaged femininity.

Dolores had told him earlier that she had become friendly with David Schofield, a boy she met at Catholic Youth Organization meetings and dances at her church. She said her friendship with the boy was purely platonic. That seemed logical to Merritt, since he knew Dolores did not seem to be a girl that sought romance of liaison with a boy.

And thus it was that Marilyn McGraw attended the Our Lady of the Angel’s High School prom.

*****
Merritt’s excitement grew intense as he thought about becoming a prom date, about finding the right dress to wear, about having his hair fixed and being made up into a lovely teen aged girl wearing a gown. But, his excitement was soon stifled by his mother.

“Are you crazy, darling?” Evelyn said to him. “You don’t know anything about this boy, and if he ever finds out the truth about you . . . god . . . you don’t know how he’d react.”

“But, mom, Dolores vouches for him,” he replied, shocked at his mother’s violent response. “And we’ll be double-dating with her and her friend.”

“I know, honey, and I know and trust Dolores, too, but you never know with boys.”

Merritt nodded, but then argued that the boy was in a bind, and Dolores was certain Merritt would look so lovely that the idea he was anything but a girl would never enter anyone’s mind. Donna Mae and Edith, also would be around, since they’d be going to the same prom.

“Having a prom date is so important for a boy, and I’d hate to disappoint him,” he argued.

“What’s his name?”

“Name? Oh, mom, I don’t know. Dolores didn’t tell me.”

“Oh my, Merritt, this is ridiculous,” he mother said, shaking her head in amazement.

“I never thought to ask.”

“Ok, dear, I know how much you want to do this, to really shine like a girl should,” his mother said. “Your mother never got to the prom at school, and I cried when I didn’t get asked.”

“Oh, mom,” he said, running over to hug his mother. “You weren’t asked? And, you’re so pretty.”

“Well, I guess we were poor and lived on the wrong side of the tracks,” she explained. “And I didn’t have any nice clothes, either.”

In the end, Evelyn gave her permission for the prom date, but on the condition that Dolores assure to her that Merritt would be safe and also that the boy had to come to the McGraw apartment to pick Merritt up so that pictures could be taken and so that she could meet him.

Merritt hugged his mother eagerly, already running over in his mind what kind of dress he’d wear. And he now had less than a week to figure that out and to either create it or purchase it.

“I just know, mom, I’ll be the prettiest girl there,” he said.

“You will, my dear. You will.”

*****
It turned out Merritt’s
“blind date” wasn’t so blind, after all. When pressed, Dolores finally gave up his name.

“His name’s Jim Turner and he’s a senior at Lincoln,” she announced.

“Oh?”

“He’s supposed to be a nice guy, and really good looking,” she continued.

“Have you met him?” Merritt inquired.

“No, but that’s what I’m told.”

“And his name is Jim? And, he’s a senior?”

“Yes.”

“I met a Jim before from Lincoln and I wonder if it’s the same guy,” Merritt mused out loud.

“Oh, there’s lots of Jims, I bet, at Lincoln,” Dolores said quickly.

To Merritt, however, it didn’t seem this was a mere coincidence. He suspected there was more to it: he knew that Dolores had become close friends with Donna Mae and Edith, since they were all in the same class at Angels. Besides, he knew Edith had become the steady girl friend of Leo, the best friend of “Jim” from Lincoln. If fact, Edith had asked several times why Merritt wouldn’t accept a date from “Jim,” who had constantly asked about the “pretty blond girl.” Furthermore, Merritt recalled the time Edith had “arranged” to have Leo and Jim meet the girls during fireworks on the 4th of July.

“He won’t know you as anything but a girl,” Dolores said, still trying to convince him.

Merritt, however, continued to resist the idea of a “date;” his life was complicated enough, he felt, with his friendship with Bill Johnson and Dolores, both of whom seemed to prefer him as the girl, Marilyn. How could he possibly go on a date with Jim, who likely would want to kiss and grope him all over, only to find he had boy parts? Then what? The prospect frightened him.

“Please, Marilyn,” Dolores pleaded. “We’d have a great time as a double date.”

Despite his fears, Merritt agreed.

“Yes, I’ll go, but you’ve got to tell me: Is this the Jim who I think it is?”

Dolores hesitated, before finally nodding her head, acknowledging what he feared.

“I bet Edith put you up to it,” he said. “I’ll scratch her eyes out.”

“I’m sorry, Marilyn,” she said, continuing to use his female name. “I just know you’ll be fine, and I’ll make sure Jim doesn’t go too far. He thinks you’re shy, and you need to act that way. It doesn’t matter to him, apparently. Edith said he can’t get you out of his head.”

*****
Like any girl getting ready for her first prom, Merritt was just giddy with both apprehension and excitement. He dearly wanted to make sure he looked so feminine and pretty, that his hair would be perfect and that his dress would hang right and that he’d make Jim Turner so proud. Dolores agreed to set up an appointment for him with her mother’s hairdresser, where no one would know him and he could go dressed and accepted as a teenaged girl.

Beatrice, the hairdresser, was ecstatic about Merritt’s longish, blond hair. “It’s so natural, dear,” she told him in the chair. “Why don’t you let it grow longer?”

“Maybe I should, but it’s easier to manage this way,” he said. He really would have liked it longer, too, but knew that since he must still live as a boy, such long hair would look very odd for a boy like him who already had such feminine features.

“I think we’ll fix in a page boy style, Marilyn,” the hairdresser said. “How would you like that, dear?”

He looked over to Dolores, sitting in a nearby chair, reading a magazine. “What do you think, Dolores?” he asked.

“Oh that’d be perfect.”

When she finished, Beatrice beamed as she had Merritt look in the mirror.

Merritt was astounded at what he saw. A pixie-like girl!

“How cute, Marilyn,” Dolores exclaimed.

“I think she’ll be the hit of the prom,” Beatrice said. “It’s such a joy to work on a girl who is so naturally beautiful, Marilyn.”

As the two walked home after the appointment, Dolores said. “I can’t resist you, you’re so cute. I could eat you up.”

*****
Merritt was in luck, since he felt the extra prom dress he had created the previous year might fit fine, with some adjustments. It was a floor length gown of teal blue chiffon, belted so that the material flowed widely, accentuating his somewhat slender hips. It was a bare-shouldered model, exposing his shoulders and arms and highlighting his long, slender neck.

“You’re a queen, my dear,” Dolores said, as he modeled it for her.

“I hope so,” he said, not sure about wearing such a revealing outfit, since he would have to use his homemade breast forms to fill out the bodice.

“Really, Marilyn, you are. I wished I could wear such a gown, but I have these ugly arms.”

“Oh you’re beautiful Dolores,” Merritt protested.

“Not like you. Your arms and shoulders are so smooth and pretty. Mine are so ugly with these muscles.”

It was true. Merritt was indeed soft and feminine looking; even with all the tennis he was playing he still hadn’t developed any noticeable muscle tone. His legs and arms had grown firm, but still retained a lack of muscular definition.

While they were fitting the dress, his friend Bill Johnson stopped over. Merritt saw the boy’s face grow stern when he was told that Merritt was going to the prom as Marilyn. “You wouldn’t go with me,” he protested.

“Don’t blame Marilyn,” Dolores was quick to come to Merritt’s defense. “I talked him into it.”

Bill cooled down after Dolores explained the situation, but added: “Now you have no excuse. You’ll have to go out with me next, Marilyn.”

Merritt smiled, happy that his friend was not too mad at him.

*****
Normally, Merritt worked Saturdays for the Swensons, but he took the day of the prom off in order to get ready. He tried on the dress three times, altering it slightly each time to assure it fit properly. The biggest issue developed in assuring that the dress would not slip down, since he had no natural breasts. But after some maneuvering with the breast forms he had made, it seemed to work fine.

By 5 o’clock, he was ready for a bath; he poured in bubble bath crystals which he hoped would help soften his skin and leave it with a sweet scent; he relaxed in the tub for nearly 20 minutes, making sure his hair (covered with a shower cap) stayed dry and in place.

After drying himself, and running a razor across his face to catch any light hint of hair, he stepped into light satin cream-colored panties, while taping on the breast forms and putting on a tight jock strap to keep his small penis tucked. He put on a bra that matched his panties, and stepped into a full slip. He continued to wear the shower cap, and went into his bedroom, where the dress hung on the closet door. He wondered whether he should try it on again, but decided against it. He wouldn’t get into the dress until about a half hour before Jim was to pick him up, which was at 7:30 p.m.

“You better eat something, darling,” his mother yelled from the kitchen. “I have some stew made.”

“Oh mom, I’m too excited. I can’t eat.”

No way could he eat, he thought. He pranced about the apartment nervously since there wasn’t much he could do but wait to get dressed.

Evelyn persisted. “Honey, you should eat. You’ll faint if you don’t.”

Finally he gave in and sat down at the table, realizing he’d have to brush his teeth again to take away any food smell.

*****
“You’re stunning,” Jim said, when he arrived to the McGraw’s second story apartment.

Merritt blushed, as he invited him in and introduced him to Evelyn, who also had dressed herself up in a nice cocktail dress for the occasion.

“Mom,” he said. “This is Jim Turner.”

“Nice meeting you Jim,” Evelyn responded. Her voice was stiff and not too warm, as she considered this boy who was dating her son as if he were a lovely teen girl.

“You, too, Mrs. McGraw,” the boy said, noticing the cool tone. “And I can see where Marilyn gets her beauty.”

Merritt smiled at the compliment, but he saw his mother took it a bit differently.

“That’s nice of you to say, Jim,” Evelyn said, her voice still frigid. “But I want you to know Marilyn is not used to dating boys, so I hope you’ll treat her with respect.”

“Oh yes, Mrs. McGraw,” the boy assured her. “I’m thankful that she was willing to go with me.”

“Well come in and make yourself comfortable,” she replied. “I have the Brownie and I want to take your pictures.”

“That’ll be nice, Mrs. McGraw, and I hope I can get copies when they’re developed.”

“We’ll be happy to. Now Marilyn dear, I want you to sit on the chair I placed in front of the fireplace.”

Liked so many residences built during the 1920s, this apartment had a fake built-in fireplace of brick. It looked authentic, but had no chimney. It did have a walnut mantel piece, upon which Evelyn had placed a picture of her husband Bob in his Navy blues, with the Navy Cross draped over the side. There were also pictures of Merritt, all from his infancy, showing a curly headed blond with dainty features. His baptism picture was there; he was wearing the same baptismal dress his own mother had worn for her baptism. It was customary for both boy and girl infants to be in a dress for the baptism ceremony.

“Now, Jim. You stand to one wide, placing one hand on the back of the chair, and move close to Marilyn.”

She fumbled around trying to get a flashbulb into the socket and finally, held the camera down at waist level, peering into the view finder, before setting off the flash bulb and taking the picture.

“Oh I hope that’s OK, but we better take one of both of you standing in front of the fireplace,” she said.

After the two pictures were taken, she told Merritt to leave the room with the excuse of fixing up make-up and getting the wrap he’d wear to and from the prom. Merritt knew, from his mother’s stern look that she expected him to stall a bit, since she obviously wanted to talk to Jim. He hoped she wouldn’t scare the boy off.

“Jim, this is Marilyn’s first prom.”

“Mine too, Mrs. McGraw.”

Evelyn looked at the boy, so handsome and erect in his tuxedo. She couldn’t imagine this handsome, strong boy hadn’t been to a prom before. Yet, she was still miffed at the way the boy had been manipulated Merritt into accepting a date for the prom. She didn’t like deviousness, even though she practiced it by hiding her love relationship with Viola as well as her protection of her son and his desire to be a girl.

“I tell you this, young man, not to try to take advantage of her,” she continued. “She’s a good girl and she’s working very hard, and she is so excited to be going to the prom.”

“I understand, Mrs. McGraw,” he said. The boy was seated on the couch and Evelyn had brought the dining room chair over and placed it directly in front of the boy, sitting opposite him, the chair making her appear taller than the boy. She had a commanding appearance.

“I want her home by 2 a.m.,” she continued. “That’ll give you time to get something to eat afterwards and come right home. Not a minute later, OK?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And there’s to be no alcohol. None. No way. Understand?”

Her voice was loud, and demanding.

“Oh mother,” Merritt said, coming into the room, a pink wrap over his shoulders. “I’ll be OK.”

Evelyn turned toward her son, angered at his interruption.

“I’m just trying to protect you, darling,” she said sharply.

“Oh mother . . .”

“Mrs. McGraw, I’ll respect Marilyn,” Jim said quickly. “I’m honored she agreed to go out with me.”

“Only ‘cause you and Edith tricked me,” Merritt said.

“You could’ve still said no,” the boy said.

Merritt face went flush. Evelyn heard the interchange, and was momentarily reassured that Merritt would be able to fight off any untoward advances. Nonetheless, she recalled her own episode with Drake Kosgrove that resulted in her pregnancy with Merritt. She had been a naíve girl at the time, dazzled by the attention of a seemingly kind young man, who suddenly turned into a monster forcing her into sex. She feared the same could happen to Merritt; only then the boy would discover Merritt’s secret and could turn violent.

“I’m warning you, young man,” she said finally. “I trust you’ll honor your word.”

“Yes, Mrs. McGraw. I promise.”

“Oh mother,” Merritt protested again, his voice weak and soft and girlish.

Jim eyed the mantel-piece. “Is that your dad, Marilyn?” he said, pointing at Bob’s picture on the mantel.

“My stepdad,” he said. “He was a hero in the War.”

“I see that medal.”

“Yes, Jim, he died at Tarawa.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“We are too, Jim,” Evelyn said. “He was a very sweet man and loved Marilyn very much.”

Merritt nodded, but felt his eyes well up with moisture. He didn’t want to cry for fear of ruining his makeup. Gamely he fought off tears, and said, “Let’s go.”

*****
Donna Mae and Edith and their dates were already at the dance when the two couples arrived. They had saved four places at a table, and soon all four couples were gathered around, the girls all appraising each other’s gowns and hairdo. Merritt had made all four gowns, and loved how each of them look. Somehow, he felt, Donna Mae was the most stunning of the group, somehow turning her husky body into a fashion model.

Yet, the rest all agreed that Marilyn was the prettiest.

“Again, you win the prize, Marilyn,” commented Donna Mae.

“Yes she does,” added Jim, a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

Merritt felt like a fairy while dancing with Jim; he was so light on his feet, and he found he followed the athletic boy’s lead easily. He loved feeling his hand buried into Jim’s large, strong hand and to feel his muscular shoulders as they danced. Again, he felt so much a girl and felt he was so desired by his partner.

The only concern came as his penis grew hard; tucked as it was, he doubted it would be noticed, but he was beginning to feel pressure and growing pain. Fortunately, the band soon played a jitterbug, and the pair quit dancing, gathering in a circle to watch two couples show off their jitterbug acrobatics.

Dolores suggested during a break that Merritt join her in the girls’ restroom, which was mobbed with girls, examining themselves in the mirror, cleaning up their lipsticked mouths and touching up their hair.

“You’re getting pretty hot with Jim,” she said, as the two found a place in front of the mirror.

“He dances like Fred Astaire,” Merritt said.

“Be careful with him,” she said. “Remember he’s a boy and if he gets too lovey-dovey you could be in trouble.”

“Are you jealous?” Merritt said, winking.

Dolores smiled. “Just a bit.”

As it turned out, the night was innocent. Merritt found himself wishing it might have gone further, but Jim seemed content with about five minutes of kissing and cuddling, just as they were about to drop Merritt off. They could see the upstairs apartment lights were still on, indicating that Evelyn was probably still up, awaiting her son’s return home. He entered the threshold of the apartment at 1:59. according to the hands on the kitchen clock.

“That was cutting it close,” Evelyn said. She was in a robe, curled up on the couch, a book open in her hands.

“Oh mom, he was wonderful. I think I danced every dance.”

The excitement of the night permeated the room, but Evelyn eyed her wannabe daughter narrowly.

“Your lipstick is a bit mussed,” she said.

“Oh mom! You’re such a worry wart.”

“Somebody better be,” she said. “You’re like every other girl, once she’s in the hands of a man.”

Merritt giggled.

*****
“Marilyn, it’s for you,” Evelyn called, rousing her son from his napping. The boy, tired from the excitement of the prom the night before, had fallen asleep while trying to complete his English assignment by reading Walt Whitman’s poetry. He was snuggled on the living room couch.

“Uh, Uh,” he grunted.

“It sounds like Jim,” she prompted.

“Jim?” he mumbled. At first, Merritt was confused. Jim? Jim who? Oh yes, his date from last night.

The shock of hearing that Jim was calling exploded in Merritt’s mind, causing him to bolt up from the couch, knocking the poetry book onto the floor. He rushed to the phone in the central hallway.

“Hello, this is Marilyn,” he said, his voice thick with snooze-induced phlegm.

“Marilyn, this is Jim.”

“Hi, Jim,” he said, using a softer voice.

“I had fun last night, and I hope you did.” His voice was a bit tentative.

“Oh yes, Jim, I did. You were so sweet.”

Merritt spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, lest he lead the boy on to wanting a real love affair. A onetime date was OK, Merritt figured, but it wasn’t right to get overly entangled with the boy who still thought he was a girl.

“No, Marilyn, you were sweet.”

“I guess we were both sweet,” Merritt said, giggling nervously.

Merritt sensed the boy was struggling to say the right words. He knew that he had been quite standoffish with Jim all night long, hardly encouraging any intimacy, outside of the brief “good night” kiss. Certainly Jim must have wanted more affectionate responses from his date. Merritt had hoped her fairly cool demeanor might cool the boy’s desire for Marilyn.

There was a brief silence, with Jim finally blurting out:

“Leo and Edith are going to the park today, Marilyn, and maybe we could join them, you and I?”

The boy said it so quickly it took a minute for Merritt to realize Jim was asking her out for another date on this very same day.

“Oh Jim,” he recovered, “That’s nice of you to ask, but I got this poetry assignment for English . . .”

“But it’s such a nice warm day. Come and join us.”

Merritt noticed it was unusually warm that day and his mother had opened several windows so the warm spring breeze could enter the apartment. Few days in May were warm and pleasant in Riverdale, due to its location on the still cool waters of Lake Michigan.

“I really shouldn’t,” Merritt said.

“We’ll just be there for a short while,” Jim pleaded. “You can do your English tonight.”

The boy’s persistence finally wore Merritt down and he agreed he could be ready in an hour to be picked up by Jim for their trip to Washington Park, where Jim had suggested they could perhaps visit the Riverdale zoo.

“Mom, what am I going to do?” he asked Evelyn later. “He thinks he’s in love with me , I think.”

“Marilyn, honey,” she replied using his female name as she often did when he was to be in his female mode. “You’ll have to tell him soon. Today, if possible. That’s the only way you’ll end this, and the sooner the better. When he finds out you’re still a boy, after he’s fallen for you as a girl, he could get violent and hurt you.”

“I know, mom, and I don’t want to hurt him. He’s really very sweet and he’s quite shy, too. And, I like him. He’s smart, like Bill.”

“You’re such a kind girl, my dear. It’s best you tell him.”

*****
“Jim, I need to tell you something,” Merritt whispered as the couple was looking at the polar bears at the zoo. Edith and Leo were walking ahead, and couldn’t hear.

“What is it?” the boy asked.

“Well, let’s sit over there,” he pointed to an empty bench far away from the walkway where the people were clustering to watch the bears. The warm Sunday afternoon had brought huge crowds to the zoo.

“I’ll tell Leo and Edith, we’ll meet them later at the pavilion, OK?”

Merritt sat on the green park bench, his knees together and pushed to one side, his hands in his lap, looking very girlish in his jeans which were neatly folded up at the cuffs to expose white ankle socks and saddle shoes; he wore a violet short-sleeved blouse with his hair tied in pigtails. Edith had commented that he looked so “cute,” to which Jim had responded: “Hubba, hubba, hubba.”

“What do you have to tell me?” he said, sitting down, about to put his hand over Merritt’s folded hands.

Merritt moved away, avoiding the contact. He had rehearsed what he was going to say to Jim over and over in his mind, but now suddenly his mind was a blank. How should he tell him the truth?

“Jim, I’m a boy.” He blurted out quickly.

“You’re a what?” Jim responded, looking at Merritt in puzzlement.

“I said,” she began more slowly, “I’m a boy.”

“But, you can’t be,” he said, his voice rising.

“I am, really,” Merritt said, taking his voice to a lower register.

“But . . .but . . . look at you . . . so pretty . . . your hands . . . arms . . . everything about you. All girl.”

“I’m sorry,” Merritt said.

Jim suddenly stood up, towering over Merritt, his face growing red and his eyes showing anger and rage.

“Why did you deceive me?”

“I’m sorry, but I feel I am a girl, really, and when we first met, that was my first time out as a girl,” he tried to explain.

“It’s still wrong to do that. How could you?” Jim said, his voice growing more sharp.

“I don’t know, Jim, really. I’m very confused.”

“Yet you went to the prom with me. And you couldn’t have been more beautiful? Many people told me you were the prettiest girl there last night. But, you’re not a girl. That’s sick.”

“But you persisted in asking me,” Merritt said in defense.

“This is so bad. I feel so humiliated,” Jim said. “You got streetcar fare to get home?”

“What?”

“Do you have money for the streetcar?”

“Why?”

“I’m done with you. You’re a liar and a cheat. The streetcar stop is right over the hill. I’m not taking you home. Here’s a dime for the fare.”

“I got mom’s pass. I don’t need your dime.”

Merritt wanted to cry right there in the park, where the tulips wear already blooming and the yellowish-green young buds were forming on the trees on a pretty spring day. But, he held back on the tears, and got up from the bench, stalking resolutely toward the No. 11 Streetcar line. He didn’t look back to see what Jim was doing. He didn’t think he’d ever hear from the boy again.

(To be Continued)

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Plenty of time

Extravagance's picture

seems to have passed in that section. I just hope Jim isn't about to do something hasty...

Catfolk Pride.PNG

I could be wrong about this...

Andrea Lena's picture

...but even though Jim talks about the embarrassment, it seems he is more upset by being betrayed by Marilyn's deceit. Yes...I used that word. We must remember this isn't the 1990's or the 21st Century, but the 1940's. The boy expected a girl, and he didn't get one, from his perspective. No decades of teaching about transgendered persons or even same-sex attraction, to mix issues, pardon. He's been raised in a world-wide culture that for the most part does not accept Merritt/Marilyn/s perspective on life. And given that culture, and that he was so disappointed, it would seem that if he was going to do anything, it would have been at that moment. He did offer to pay for her ride home, as difficult and sad as that seems. Marilyn may not have a friend for life in Jim, but I suspect she hasn't gained a life-long enemy either. Excellent work as always. I am so sorry for Marilyn; I do so hope life works out for her. She deserves to be as happy as can be, whatever the 1940's do eventually allow. Thank you!


Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Best to be expected.

RAMI

Merritt is lucky that Jim reacted as, yes a gentleman. He was hurt by Marilyn;s deceit. He reacted better then many others would have. He is lucky he was not beat up.

As Andrea points out this is 1946. Things were different then. Even today, with homosexuality, different life styles and even transgenderism out in the open and more accepted, I am not sure how even the most liberal open minded boy might react when he found out the girl he justed dated and had feelings for is actually a guy.

The consequences of telling Jim the truth are still not known. He still has the ability to gossip and spill the beans on Merritt. The reaction when his secret is revealed could be devestating to all concerned.

RAMI

RAMI

I'm Inclined to Think...

...that Andrea's right on this one -- if only because it's not in Jim's best interests for him to tell people he (and they) were fooled. As you say, Jim reacted as a gentleman here, and I don't expect any near-term repercussions from this particular event.

Eric

Jim and Marilyn

So sad but so common, even today! What so many people do not understand is why we keep secrets like that to ourselves. After all, how does one properly tell a man or anyone for that matter the truth? Any which way the truth comes out it will be a shock!

Vivi