(aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2138 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
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I sat holding Danni for several minutes before she’d composed herself enough to go upstairs and refresh her makeup. In her state, I’d have gone upstairs and removed it not refreshed it–but then I remembered how I used to be. I was living the dream, I could be as girly as I wanted or not, before I met Stella, that wasn’t an option. I was a captive of my fears–call it cowardice if you like–but I was scared of my own shadow and the thought of someone finding out about me, despite the fact that I’d told my Prof and he was okay about it, meant that the fears I had were all in my head and once confronted, they faded like shadows in the light.
Danni had that same opportunity and was just as controlled by the fears. In her case, being cooped up with seven or eight hundred psychopathic children, her fears might just keep her alive. I was in an institution which had a clearly structured difference and diversity policy, which I suspect the school has too, but I knew I could be protected she doesn’t believe she would be, and I was probably inclined to believe her. Schools can be full of all sorts of nastiness which isn’t approved, and at times is positively discouraged, but it still happens. Look at prisons, they have a no drugs policy, the inmates still procure them because they’re smuggled in by families, friends and staff.
No one can rule absolutely, despots and tyrants have tried it and failed, empires have tried it and failed, businesses and democracies have tried it and they also failed. Not everyone will comply and once people start to work out what’s happening, they resist.
Prison might have been a bad example because the people in it are there because they broke the rules, so breaking a few more is no big deal to many of them. Democracies have at least one weakness, everyone in them knows better than the government–which might be a truism when considered against the records of some governments.
I was fiddling in my study when she came back down, mascara and eye liner renewed though her eyes were still red. “You don’t always wear makeup, do you, Mummy–why is that?”
“All sorts of reasons. It takes time, it can mess up your skin or make your eyes sore, I’m lazy and why bother if you’re not going somewhere special? I don’t wear skirts that often either.”
“I like wearing it,” she retorted.
“Fine, no one is stopping you–provided you take it off at night before you go to bed.”
“I wish I could wear it all the time, it’s such fun changing how I look whenever I want to.”
“It certainly can be, and as I said there’s no one stopping you wearing all the time if you like.”
“How can I? I’m a stupid boy, remember?”
“Goodness, are you? You look so pretty, young lady, I don’t think I believe you.”
“Not as pretty as my mummy.”
“What are you after?”
“Just to go to Alice’s service as a girl.”
“I told you, I’d see what I could do, I certainly hadn’t said no, had I?”
“No, Mummy, you hadn’t. But you did say I could wear makeup all the time if I wanted to, but I can’t can I–not in school?”
“You could but I doubt they’d be terribly pleased with you for doing so, unless you changed schools.”
“Like what school would let me wear makeup every day?”
“St Claires.”
“That’s a girl’s school, I’m a boy.”
“I don’t see much of a boy at the moment.”
“He’s there, Mummy, just well hidden.”
“So why couldn’t he be hidden while you went to a girl’s school?”
“I don’t know if I want to be a girl all the time–well I do–well I like the clothes and the makeup, but I also enjoy things like football.”
“Livvie and Trish play football.”
“It’s not quite the same as boy’s football.”
“They’d better not hear you say that.”
“It’s different and I’m pretty sure that within five minutes I’d be spotted as a boy by the way I played.”
I suspected that was the case in women’s rugby. The little I’d seen of it was far removed from the bone-crunching tackles of the men’s professional game. So if someone who’d played at any decent level as a man went to play women’s, even after surgery, I believe they’d be spotted very quickly because they’d be used to the physicality of the men’s game where some of the ‘hits’ by tacklers make people watching it on television, wince.
“No one has spotted Trish yet?”
“Trish is a girl, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“She’s a good player, though.”
“For a girl, she’s okay.”
I wanted to say, patronising toad, then realised he wasn’t being so, he was telling the truth. Trish was as close to being a girl as it was possible for a non-biological female to get. She played against other females and their game was less physical than the boys–fewer sliding tackles and challenges in the air.
“So you don’t want to be a girl all the time?”
“I dunno–I dunno what I want.”
“I’m beginning to get the impression that you’d like to be a girl when you wanted to or a boy if that took your fancy, instead.”
She shrugged.
“C’mon let’s go and see what the others are up to.”
She walked over to me and shoved her hand in mine. “I’m so lucky to have a mummy like you.”
“Are you–why’s that then?”
“Because you love me, you care for me and you care about me.”
“Yep, that pretty well is the contract of being a parent.”
“Even when I’m unlovable?”
“I don’t recognise the term, darling, to me you’re always lovable.”
“Even when I’ve been a dumb boy?”
“If bicycles were involved, I’m not sure I want to know.”
“But, Muuummy, this is a good story.”
“Fine, we’ll collect it and leave the others to decide.”
“What?”
“Huh,” she pouted.
“Has Trish been giving you lessons?”
“In football?” she gasped.
“No pouting.”
“What?”
“Pouting–looking like a half dead salmon.”
She roared with laughter, “I’m gonna tell Trish what you said.”
“Feel free, she knows me well enough to make up her own mind.”
“I wish I could be as calm about things as you always are.”
He says this to the woman who has nightmares about him wanting to be a girl all the time.
“I remembered a prayer which is attributed to St Francis of Assisi.”
“You a prayer?”
“Yes, it goes something like, “God grant me the courage to change those things I ought to change, to tolerate those things I can’t change and the wisdom to know the difference.”
“Hey, that’s good–but what does it say about boys who like to be girls–sometimes?”
“It says, missy, do whatever makes you happiest.”
She smiled so lovingly I wanted to hug her to death.
Comments
So much good Advice
More people to need use it.
Thank you so much for sharing another wonderful episode.
Goddess Bless you
Love Desiree
It's going to be ...
It's going to be a hard life for Danny as he changes from boy to girl and back again. There will be times when he isn't sure what he wants to be and during those times he might become vulnerable to outside influences like peer pressure or parental expectations, albeit unwittingly transmitted subconsciously. Worse still will be his vulnerability to bullying for it will definitely occur.
Food for thought.
Bevs.
Goddess, I love this story!
Thank you for this Ang.
Also, I do believe that that prayer is attributed to Reinhold Neibhur.
Joani
Experimenting now
Is far better now than later. The experience should settle the question for Danni whether to be or not to be. That is the question that needs to be answered.
Huggles
Michele
With those with open eyes the world reads like a book
Words to live by.
Words to live by. And how to treat people..... "Do a favor, and forget. Received the favor, and never forget"