Chapter Nine: Hugs and More Hugs
Kenny and Gabe said nothing as the two walked down University Ave., before heading along the campus hiking trail that led to Kenny’s dorm units. It was a heavily wooded area, with the trees lining both sides, except where the path led along the lake’s shore. There, it opened up to an expanse of water, which was illuminated by the full moon that was unseen since it was behind them as they walked. It would have been a scary place, except that after several attacks had occurred lights had been installed to keep it lit, and apparently safer. There were benches placed every several hundred feet along the path, most being occupied by young couples, many in various stages of embraces.

Signs were posted along the path that warned against loitering and announcing that the path would be closed from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. The postings were apparently aimed at discouraging the young people from becoming too overwrought in their emotional hugs and kisses and to prevent attacks in the late evening and early morning hours.

Once they had entered the trail, Gabe said: “He’s nothing but an old letch, Karen. These old Hollywood types are always looking for younger girls. Why can’t he be happy with his wife? She’s still a pretty woman. I don’t know how she tolerates that stuff.”

Kenny stiffened. He had been overwhelmed by the attention the old actor had given him.

“Wasn’t that sweet how he kissed my hand, Gabe?”

“That was sickening.”

“It was not,” Kenny said, his voice taking on a petulant tone. “It was the mark of a gentleman. Besides he’s a legend here and to get his attention is really cool.”

Gabe grunted and the two continued on without speaking for a while. Kenny sensed a bit of chill growing between them. Was Gabe jealous? Yes, that’s it. Gabe was jealous. Still they walked on hand-in-hand, though the steps seemed to be quickening as Gabe led on.

They finally had gotten within a block of Kenny’s dorm when Kenny, breathing a bit heavily from the faster pace of their walk, spied an empty bench.

“Let’s sit and talk a minute, Gabe. OK?”

Gabe nodded and the two sat on the bench, which faced the lake. They sat silently for a few minutes, watching gentle waves wash onto the shore, the backlight from the moon casting an eerie glow on the darkened lake.

“This is such a beautiful campus,” Kenny said finally. “Aren’t you glad you came here?”

The two no longer held hands, and both sat erect and stiffly. Kenny held his hands in his lap as a girl would often do, while Gabe sat forward on the bench, his hands gripping the bench seat as his arms hung down from his sides.

“Yes, I am glad I came here. It’s so much prettier than the campus in my state U, stuck right in the middle of a big city.”

“Well, I’m glad you came here, too, Gabe,” Kenny said, reaching over with his left hand and placing it on Gabe’s right arm and playing his fingers lightly along the smooth underside of the boy’s forearm.

Gabe looked toward Kenny, his eyes sparkling from the light of a nearby lightpost.

“Karen,” the boy said. “I’m glad I came here because I found you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

“Gabe, you’re so sweet to say that, but we hardly know each other,” Kenny said in a soft, almost whispery voice.

“I know that I feel comfortable with you and we seem to like so many of the same things. I’ve never felt that way with a girl before.”

Kenny lifted Gabe’s arm from the bench, placing the boy’s hand on his own denim-covered thigh, permitting him to move next to him so that their bodies touched. He wanted to snuggle his body tightly against this large boy and feel the comfort of his warm flesh.

Gabe moved his arm from Kenny’s thigh, lifting it up over Kenny’s head, grabbing his slender shoulders and embracing Kenny in a firm hug. Kenny rested his head on the boy’s tee-shirt, feeling the softness of the boy’s chest, surprised to feel tiny mounds of flesh forming breasts. The boy’s armpits were moist, and Kenny caught the scent of manly sweat. He put his other hand on Gabe round tummy, which bulged a bit over the belt of his jeans.

The boy stiffened as Kenny gently kneaded the boy’s belly, which Kenny found to excite his own penis.

“Don’t do that, Karen, please,” Gabe said.

“Why? Your tummy is so cute.”

“I’m too fat, I’ve gotta lose weight,” he said. “I’ve always been big.”

Kenny remembered what it was like to be different from other boys, and Gabe obviously must have obsessed about his weight most of his life.

“Oh, but you’re not fat, Gabe. You’re a big guy naturally. Nothing wrong with that. And, I can tell how strong you are, too.”

“You think so? Really?”

“Yes. You told me how hard you worked on your dad’s farm in Minnesota. You had to be a big strong boy.”

Gabe embraced Kenny even more firmly, and the two sat their in their embrace for many minutes, saying nothing. Kenny was thinking; he had misled this boy into thinking he was a girl, and soon Gabe, as shy as he was with girls, was going to explore his body with his hands and learn the truth. Kenny realized he had to tell Gabe the truth. And, he’d have to do it now, before they parted for the evening.

Kenny pulled away from Gabe, saying that it was near to 10 p.m. and they’d have to move off the bench since the campus patrol would be along soon.

“Guess you’re right, Karen, but this has been so marvelous, you and I.”

“Gabe, I need to tell you something before we leave tonight,” Kenny began, his voice suddenly becoming hesitant and unsure.

“What is it? Is it serious?”

“Yes, it is, and . . .”

“I know,” Gabe interrupted. “You have a boy friend already.”

“No, no, no, it’s not that,” he said pausing again.

“Well, what is it?”

“Gabe, promise you won’t hurt me when I tell you this thing, OK?”

“What are you talking about? What could be so horrible I’d hurt you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry you’re so sweet I can’t imagine you hurting anyone.”

Kenny felt tears filling his eyes. Gabe founded clean tissue in his pocket and wiped the tears from Kenny’s face.

“Well, Gabe,” Kenny finally said. “I’m not what I appear to be.”

“Oh, and what are you?” Gabe’s voice was gentle, soft and he took both Kenny’s hands in his own.

“I’m really a boy,” Kenny said quickly, speaking so fast that he wondered if Gabe could hear what he had said.

Gabe looked at him, still holding Kenny’s hands and said nothing. He shook his head, as if denying what he heard. Kenny looked into Gabe’s eyes, waiting a response from the boy.

“A boy? How can that be? You’re . . . ah . . . ah . . so pretty . . . ah . . . ah . . . so much a girl.”

Kenny composed himself, pulled his hands from Gabe’s grasp and said. “Well, you thought I was a girl the other night, even though I was dressed in a man’s shirt and wore jeans, the same as tonight. So when we were to meet tonight, I thought I’d be Karen again, and we’d have our coffee and that would be it, and we’d walk away never to see each other again, but you’re so nice and I like you so much I wanna be friends with you.”

Gabe’s eyes narrowed and Kenny felt there was anger growing within the boy.

“I don’t know what to say, Karen,” he said finally.

“Don’t say anything, and let me tell you what’s going on. Then you can judge what you want to do with me . . . or to me. Ok?”

They took ten minutes to walk to the dorm, and Kenny told Gabe how the Shakespeare Camp experience had led him to appreciate how much he wanted to be a girl; he said it must have been a feeling that had been present within him all of his young life. Kenny also said he was looking into the possibility of transitioning into a female mode in the future.

“I hope you understand,” Kenny said as they approached the dorm.

They stood about 100 feet from the dorm entrance, partially hidden by a grove of trees. They weren’t touching, but stood face-to-face.

“I don’t understand that, Karen. Oh damn, how can I call you Karen now?”

“I prefer Karen to my own name. It’s Kenneth, but everyone calls me Kenny. I’ll email you some links to some Internet sites that explain what I’m going through. It’s like a disease.”

“Ok? A disease? Is it catching?”

Kenny laughed, realizing how naíve Gabe was about such gender issues. “No silly, but it’s usually something such a person has a hard time resisting. I guess that’s me.”

Gabe agreed to study the Internet materials.

“I don’t know whether I want to see you again, Karen,” Gabe started. “I prefer Karen, too, and that’s how I’ll think of you. I don’t know this Kenny guy, Ok.”

Kenny smiled. “That’s fair, Gabe. I won’t bother you again, but I’ll give you all my contact information when I email that information to you. You can decide if you want to see me again.”

“That’s fair,” Gabe said, his voice gentle. Then he took Kenny in his arms, pulled him into his bulk, leaned over and the two kissed. It was a warm, passionate kiss.

“I’ll never forget this kiss,” Gabe said, as they broke apart.

Kenny began sobbing. He turned and hurried to the dormitory, not looking back, cherishing his short time as Karen with a sweet hulk of a boy named Gabriel.

*****
He scurried past several boys lingering outside the dorm entrance, holding a tissue to his face and trying to hold back the tears.

“What you crying about, girly?” one of the boys said, his voice sounding sympathetic and kind.

“Can we help you?” asked his companion.

Realizing that he still had his hair in the high, bobbing ponytail and that he was hurrying up the steps in his usual girlish gait, Kenny knew the boys had mistaken him for one of the freshmen girls who lived on the second floor of the dorm.

As he entered the main door, he heard the first boy remark, “She must have broken up with her boyfriend.”

“The guy who dumped her must be nuts. She’s cute,” the other said.

He moved in fast short steps to Room 111, shocked to see light showing from the bottom of the door, indicating that his roommate, Ray, must have returned before him. He slowed down as he approached the door, trying to compose himself. He wiped his eyes hoping to hide his girlish appearance and the fact that he’d been crying.

His roommate was seated at his computer, wearing only a pair of briefs and a white tank top that contrasted with his brown skin and exposed his trim, sinewy body. He looked up as Kenny entered and began to say something, but then stopped.

“Hi,” Kenny said, trying to sound cheerful.

“Oh, you surprised me,” Ray said. “I thought you were one of the girls from upstairs.”

“No, just me.”

Ray turned on his swivel chair, now looking more closely at Kenny.

“What’s going on, Kenny?” he asked finally. “You could be one of the girls. Your hair . . . ah . . . ah . . . and your face. Are you wearing makeup?”

“Oh Ray, it’s awful,” Kenny said, beginning to cry again.

He bolted into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He sat down on the commode and cried and cried and cried. Moments later, he heard Ray banging on the door and demanding: “Kenny, open this door. Please, Kenny. I want to help you.”

“Go away,” Kenny cried, his sobbing becoming more pronounced. “You’ll just hate me.”

“No, Kenny, I won’t. Let me help you.”

Kenny didn’t answer, but got off the commode, turned and kneeled before it and lowered the seat cover so that he could lay his head down upon his arms and sob more quietly.

“Kenny, answer me. Don’t do anything to yourself, Kenny, please.”

Realizing that Ray was worried he was going to kill himself, Kenny finally replied. “I won’t. I’m Ok. Just let me be.”

“Not until you open this door, Kenny. I mean it. If you don’t, I’ll go get Robert.”

Kenny knew Ray meant it; Robert was the floor proctor, the graduate student who was given free room if he’d keep an eye on the residents of the floor. He couldn’t have the whole floor of wise-cracking college boys learning about his situation.

“Ok, I’m coming. Just gimme a sec, Ok?”

“Just 30 seconds, Kenny and then I’m getting Robert,” Ray said.

Kenny got up, dried his eyes and wiped off the lipstick and eye-liner as best he could. He looked in the mirror, and quickly let his hair down so that it hung down to his neckline making him look even more feminine. He struggled in tying it back in a ponytail, but before he could do so, Ray pounded the door again, threatening to get the floor proctor.

“Ok, Ok, I’m coming out.”

Leaving his hair fall freely, he opened the door, forcing a smile upon his face, and looking at Ray who was clearly worried over the incident.

He let Ray lead him to his bed and to assist him in sitting on the side of the bed. Kenny almost felt like an invalid being assisted in walking to his own bed.

Ray sat next to him on the bed and said nothing. He reached over and grabbed Kenny’s free hand (the other hand held the tissue, now soggy with his tears). He held Kenny’s hand gently and Kenny felt comforted. Both boys had smallish hands with slender fingers, and Kenny felt strength in the other boy’s fingers. A growing comfort came over Kenny, whose thoughts went back to when his mother would come to him when he was troubled and comfort him. Oh how he missed her, as well as Aunt Harriet. Only they could understand him.

“You can get a new roommate, Ray,” Kenny said.

“Why would I want to do that?” Ray said.

“Oh Ray, I’m a weirdo. You don’t want to be associated with me. They’ll tease you, bully you, just ‘cause you and I sleep in same room.”

Ray shook his head, finally saying, “Aren’t we all a bit weird sometimes? Now tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh, you’ll either laugh or be horrified if I told you,” Kenny said.

“No, Kenny. I promise you this. I won’t laugh and I’ll try to understand, but tell me why you look so much like a girl tonight and why you’re crying. You look just like my teenage sister after her boyfriend dumped her.”

Oh my gosh, Kenny thought. Ray didn’t realize how close to the truth he was.

“Promise me, Ray, you’ll not tell anyone else about this. Please.”

Ray nodded his head. “I’ll promise you this much. Whatever you tell me will be our secret, unless you’ll confess to a crime like murder.”

The thought brought a smile to Kenny. “Nothing like that, I assure you, Ray.”

Kenny told his roommate just about everything, from the time he was chosen to play Ophelia and lived outwardly as Karen during rehearsals to his growing feelings that he was a girl and should possibly transition. He even told how Gabe had mistaken him for a girl and that he had played along, only to face being dumped when he told the boy the truth. About all he left out was his lesbian-type relationship with Angela.

“Oh Kenny, I understand, I really do,” Ray said when Kenny finished.

“You do?”

“Of course I do, Kenny. Some of the most beautiful girls in my country and in other countries of the area are guys who transitioned. It’s well-known in our country, even though it’s frowned up and so many are treated badly.”

“Then you understand about this? That I’m not some kind of pervert?”

“Oh Kenny, yes I do, and you’re no pervert,” Ray said smiling.

“You’re sweet, Ray,” Kenny said. “I will try not to embarrass you, Ray, and I’ll try to be more boyish from now. I’m registered as a boy, and I’ll just have to live that way from now on, at least for the first year of school.”

“Are you considering transitioning?”

“Yes, very much so, and I know they have a gender clinic here so I think I’ll look into that.”

Ray smiled, put his arm around Kenny’s shoulders and drew him in tightly, caressing Kenny’s arm as he did so.

“You are really pretty and I’d like to call you Karen now.”

Kenny let himself be pulled against the boy, relaxing in the arms of this gentle boy. It felt good.

Finally, Ray loosened his grip, releasing Kenny and standing up.

“Karen,” he said, kneeling before Kenny and grabbing Kenny’s hands. “I’m proud to be your friend and I hope we remain roomies.”

“I’d like that, Ray.”

“Maybe sometime you’ll dress up for me as Karen,” Ray said. “I’d love to see you.”

“Really, would you like that?”

“Oh yes, and I might even borrow a sari from one of my Indian friends who are in the university,” he said. “I bet you’ll look nice in that, too.”

“Oh Ray, you’re so nice,” Kenny said, getting up from his bed and giving Ray a quick sisterly kiss.

“Karen, Karen,” Ray said, putting his arms around Kenny. He tried to kiss Kenny back, but Kenny turned his head away, and tried to squirm out of the hug, but Ray held firm, though gently.

Kenny felt weak in the arms of Ray, even though both boys were nearly of identical height and weight. Kenny knew, however, that the other boy was stronger and he began feeling submissive and powerless, and he liked the feeling.

‘Ray, please no, I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he protested.

“Don’t you like being kissed?”

“It’s not that, but we really shouldn’t, Ray, really.”

“Why not? You’re a pretty girl and I’m a guy,” he said, a smile on his smooth, dark face.

“Oh Ray,” Kenny turned his face toward the boy, and soon the two were kissing, this time longer and with more passion.

Suddenly, he was Karen, a tender, lovely girl again.

The two boys lay tightly together, as if hanging onto each other for dear life, their legs entangled, Kenny’s smooth fleshy thigh against the more sinewy inner leg of Ray. Their penises rubbed together as they embraced, Kenny feeling submissive and weak against the hard body of his friend. Kenny’s penis grew hard, and he could feel Ray’s wider and longer shaft rubbing against his own and becoming hard. They both began panting heavily, Kenny feeling Ray’s intensity as the boy’s hands dug into the fleshiness of Kenny’s buttocks. They both began sweating, and Kenny sensed the perfume he thought he’d cleansed from his skin earlier beginning to permeate the smells, clashing with the more sour, manly odors from the glistening and moist body of Ray. Kenny felt a seeping moistures dampening his panties.

“Oooooohhhhh, Ray,” he screamed out.

Ray quickly pressed his mouth onto Kenny’s as if to stifle the noises and the kisses grew hard now, their mouths open and tongues mingled together.

It ended, far too quickly, both boys ejaculating almost simultaneously, creating a soggy mess, and they soon collapsed into each other’s arms.

They lay together for a few minutes in the dampness of the bed sheets. They looked blankly at each other, saying nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Ray said softly. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s Ok, Ray. I felt so good in your arms.”

“I’m not gay, you know, Karen,” Ray said, using the female name for the first time.

“So what if you were, Ray. You’re a sweet boy.”

“You say that like a girl.”

Kenny smiled, and repeated, “You’re a sweet boy.”

He reached over and kissed Ray on his forehead, then his nose, before following down to his lips. The kisses were light, soft and tender.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Ray said again. “I’ve never kissed a boy like that before. But I felt I was with a girl all the time.”

“You treated me like I was your girl, Ray, I could feel it.”

“Did you like that, Karen?” Ray said, kissing Kenny with short tender pecks on the nose and lips.

Kenny smiled at the dark-skinned boy, his gleaming black eyes reflected from the dim light coming through the dorm windows.

Finally they broke apart, and Ray retreated to his own bed. Kenny laid face down on his bed amid the now-stiffening mess, feeling a mixture of happiness and sadness. He was Karen, totally and completely, a feminine, dainty, lovely, sweet girl. What had happened that day was overwhelming: he had been Karen, been wooed and rejected by a nice, huge boy by the name of Gabriel, been considered for a part in a play as a girl and now was being kissed, hugged and sexually stimulated by his roommate as if he was a girl. And, to make matters worse, he found he was the romantic attraction of three people, Angela, Gabriel and Rajesh, who all wanted him as Karen. He had welcomed the attention of all three, not rejected any of them. Meanwhile he was deep in his own unrequited love for Mark Hamilton, off playing football in Iowa.

Kenny always considered himself to be kind, open, honest and moral; yet, he found himself engaged in deception and duplicity. To make matters worth, he worried that Karen was really a slut at heart. The thought scared him.

Was not his Karen also to be of the same sweet character as he felt he was? He realized that as Karen he now had power and recognition that was missing in his life as Kenny, which made him wonder whether his own need for respect and dignity was not driving him into womanhood, rather than a real need to recognize that he may have indeed been one of those considered to be transsexual.

But for now, he was Kenny, a boy who wasn’t a boy and was increasingly not looking like a boy, but a boy nonetheless, and he was facing a year in college as a boy. He had lots to think about and sleep came slowly. It was a confusing, troubling but wonderful time. And, he cried.

*****
The University’s Medical School — always listed as one of the top cancer research centers in the nation — was only a newcomer in the field of psychiatric medicine and some associated fields. Spurred on by two leading legislators in the State, a woman and a man who were openly gay, the School two years earlier had established the MaryAnn Keyes Gender Clinic, named for a prominent male-to-female person who as a scientist had created a pioneering organic agent for insect prevention in farming. She later became a leading spokeswoman for transgendered causes.

Cecelia Hansson told her son that he ought to make an appointment to see a Dr. Bargmann at the clinic. “She’s a very good and compassionate, Kenny. I discussed your situation — confidentially, of course — with the head of our psychiatric services department, and he recommended Dr. Bargmann.”

“Oh mom, you didn’t,” Kenny said.

Kenny talked to his mother on Friday — the day after his adventures with Gabe, Eric Fenstrom and Ray — and while he didn’t tell his mother much about those events, she sensed his gender issues were troubling him.

“You know Dr. Taylor, honey,” his mother reassured him. “He has always noticed something special in you.”

“You mean like I’m crazy?”

“No, no, no. These things have nothing to do with mental illness, dear. Dr. Taylor understands that some people are born with gender confusion, and such people just need help. You know that. Besides, I paid him one dollar, just to assure that we had a doctor-patient relationship established to keep it confidential.”

“You didn’t?” Kenny said, giggling.

“And you know, dear, I love you dearly, as either Karen or Kenny,” she said, too.

“I love you, too, mommy.”

His mother laughed, and said, “Thank you, Karen.”

Kenny wished he were home, fixing dinner for his hard-working mother, or doing the laundry or cleaning the house, wearing a cute little smock and looking forward to being drawn with a hug into her soft, warm body.

“By the way,” Kenny said, changing the subject. “How’s Sonny?”

He heard his mother sigh. “Your brother’s turning 14 in a few weeks, and he started 9th Grade and he’s in high school.”

“Oh.”

“Well, dear, he’s a sweet boy, but he’s been getting sassy and he seems to have teamed up with some questionable characters. I can smell smoke on him when he comes home, and without you here he’s got no one around after school.”

“Can’t Aunt Harriet keep an eye on him?”

His mother laughed. “Harriet’s having trouble walking now, and has trouble caring for herself. And, she misses you terribly, dear. She loved your visits.”

“I miss her, too, mommy,” Kenny said. “I want her to stay healthy. She’s really fun to be with, you know.”

“I suggested to Sonny that he visit her for a few minutes everyday after school,” his mother said.

“That would be nice. I know Sonny would soon love her, too.”

“I don’t know, Karen. All he said. ‘That’s a girl thing.’”

“Oh mommy, he still is embarrassed by me, isn’t he?” Kenny said, still using the girlish way of addressing his mother.

“I don’t know, but he seems to want to prove to everyone that he’s a tough, strong macho boy.”

Kenny thought about his little brother, remembering the fun he once had playing with him. Sonny had an infectious, impish smile and really had a gentle nature, which apparently he was trying to hide to the world.

“I’m sorry what I’ve done to him, mommy,” he said.

“No, honey, it’s not you; he’s just going through a growing stage, and I need to understand and love him,” his mother said.

“I hope so, mommy.”

“Don’t worry about Sonny, dear. I want you to take care of yourself and make that appointment with Dr. Bargmann, dear. Please, honey.”

“I love you mommy,” he said, hanging up.
(To Be Continued)