The European tour was nearly finished, but after I filled Dennis in on Matt's discovery, he collaborated with me to feign a severe case of what seemed to be norovirus, and Katherine – and her entourage – were excused from the last 10 days of the press tour, to take the gulfstream back home and recuperate. ...also sparing the rest of the company from coming in contact with this possibly highly contagious digestive scourge.

I apologized profusely to Dez. Dennis later said I gave a better performance Skyping Dez than Katherine ever had in any of her films. I genuinely felt bad ditching my comrades on this press junket. It had sort of become the 'what will the unstable starlet do next' tour... yet my colleagues long ago twigged that it was really just a devilishly devious publicity ruse. I felt badly about leaving all my 'straight men' alone to finish the publicity tour without the mad honey badger that garnered all the press. Still, they were very gracious about it. I also think they dreaded catching the acutely mortifying illness that I seemed to have contracted. While they would miss what I contributed to the PR blitz, I think they were relieved to be far from my alleged malady.

The acutely embarrassing illness also proved handy for getting our pilot to make an unscheduled landing in Worcester Massachusetts while I sought 'medical relief'. Matt met us at the airport, and we drove across the border to the sleepy little exurb of Putnam Connecticut.

I had no idea what I would do once I got there, but that didn't stop me from making a beeline straight to the house.

I was quickly introduced to Lucas, the guy who had been monitoring the house and originally grabbed the stills of the reclusive Katherine. I complimented him on his stealth and his photographic skills. Matt kidded him that he needed to ditch the thankless P.I. work and become a well paid celebrity bane as a papparazzo.

He seemed simultaneously flattered and embarrassed by our attention. It only made me respect him more.

“So she's home?”

“Hasn't left since day before yesterday. Yep. She's in there.”

I just got out of his car and walked to her front door. What the hell was I thinking? I didn't know yet. But I was sure I would - when the time came. I knocked.

And waited.

And knocked again.

I could sense her presence behind the door. Somehow I felt that she could see me. I don't know if there was some surveillance system that I was unaware of, or a peephole I hadn't noticed. But I had the distinct, unshakable feeling that I was being watched. And appraised.

Suddenly the door flew open and I was face to face with my doppelganger.

Or original.

I could only stare.

And she stared back.

While she seemed to look at my face... actually look through my face, as if focusing on somewhere behind me, I knew she was sizing me up from toes to top. Yet I could discern nothing from those cold, unblinking eyes.

“About fucking time” she said matter of factly.

I mutely stared back, Trying to process everything.

She turned from the open doorway and walked into the house.

I hesitated only a moment before following.

“May I?” I inquired reflexively.

Her shoulders shrugged, back still to me. “Be kind of pointless to come all this way and not.”

I was flying blind. At full speed.

She went to the living room and sat on a couch. I glanced at a chair, and, sensing no objection from her, sat.

We stared at each other silently. For an uncomfortably long time.

I guess she won, because I went first.

“OK. Who goes first?”

She shrugged. And said nothing. So I guess it's me.

While I was busy formulating, she spoke.

“When Dale first told me about you, I thought 'there's no way this will work'”

I was at a total loss for how to respond, so I just looked at her. After a painful silence, she continued.

“But you fooled us all.”

I just blushed.

“You not just pulled it off. You fucking ran with it.” She stared at me. I felt like a specimen under a microscope. “Well done” she nodded. Expressionless,
I shrugged humbly.

“And am I to understand correctly.. you're not even actually female?”

I went crimson.

She made a sound. If I were forced to guess, I'd describe it as some sort of choked, bitter laugh. She stood up and left the room.

I was unsure whether I was expected to follow her. She gave no signal. I quickly observed that she was really, really difficult to read. I now understood how she made everyone ill at ease. Yet I sensed it was nothing deliberate. I remembered Dennis talking about her 'emotional palette'.... I decided it consisted of black, white, a little gray and possibly maybe a little brownish gray. 'Pretty sparse palette' I chuckled to myself.

While I was busy pondering all this, and remaining seated, Katherine returned with a bottle of water and sat back on the sofa, resuming her expressionless staring at me. I was beginning to get an idea about this. So I just looked her in the eyes.

She caught my gaze and quickly averted her eyes. Turning them to her hands and the bottle of water she was holding.

“There's water in the kitchen. Help yourself.” She said to the air between us.

“Thanks. I'm good.” I replied, much more calmly than I felt. My physical presence was nearly as still and expressionless as hers, but my neutral body language and expression was quite deliberate on my part, and extremely difficult to pull off since my mind was whirring at a thousand miles an hour.

I really had no clue how to proceed. But looking across at her, I knew she was going to do nothing. Either the next move was mine, or I would just stand up and leave. Somehow I knew either path would be the same to her. I could read nothing from her. Not that there was nothing there. I'd heard enough 'war stories'... I knew she was quite capable of displaying emotion, and something told me there was something going on behind those evasive eyes, but I couldn't begin to parse what it was. It was like looking at a book in a foreign language with an entirely different character set. I knew there was meaning there. And I knew I didn't have the remotest chance of figuring it out.

Somehow that gave me the courage to proceed. Since there seemed to be no 'right' way to proceed, I figured any choice was as good as another.

“You look well.” I said.

She sat back and regarded me again. This did not get any more comfortable the longer it went on.

I felt the need to keep talking, just because the silence was excruciating. “...I mean, I had been told... um, everyone talked about the ...um... incident with the....”

“Boxter. Yeah yeah...” she waved her hand. “Dale's idea.”

Finally she says something! I scowled involuntarily. She was talking, but only making things more cryptic. I waited.

“Well, the actual accident... I was really tired... fucking exhausted... another round of sucking up to suits, and I think one of them slipped me something.”

“Slipped you something?” I made no effort to hide my surprise. I sensed jaded amusement.

“Yeah, yeah” she waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “Old story. Anyway, I started to feel it and split.”

I just stared at her. From stonefaced to true confessions in the blink of an eye?

“I needed some air, so I went for a drive.”

“After you thought you had been ..drugged? ...Roofied???”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'm used to it. Actually, by now I have a really high tolerance... those assholes never figure that.... So, I'm driving, and I'm exhausted and a little dull around the edges, and just so fucking sick of the same old shit over and over... I was trying so fucking hard. Do you know how hard I worked on that Goddamn accent?”

I shook my head. I didn't think she had worked on it at all.

“I was just so ….fed up.... I really decided that none of it was worth it....”

“You tried to kill yourself???” I nearly shouted.

“No.” she cocked her head and shot me a look like 'where did you get that idea?' Then I saw her refocus. “I was really really pissed.... and frustrated.... and so goddamned, fucking ….exhausted.... and starting to feel....”

“...Dull around the edges...” I felt I was beginning to get on her wavelength.

She nodded.

“The top was down, and the night air was brisk. It helped...”

“...the dulling...” I said. She looked at me and I caught this strange expression. Somehow I sensed she felt like she was having an inner dialog with a disembodied copy of herself. That weirded me out too, and at that moment I knew she saw it in me as well.

“So, I punched it. ….do you know how fast those things can go?”

“I can imagine.”

“Can you? Really? The strangest thing is there's very little ...sensation... of speed from behind the wheel. ….until you try to slow or turn.”

I felt I was beginning to understand what really happened.

“Well, the curve was really sharp. I mean, who makes a road like that?”

“I heard it was a cul-de-sac”

“Whatever. Anyway. Next thing I know I'm in some asshole's pool. His fucking gas grill nearly took my head off. It's surprising how long it takes a Boxter to sink. Anyway, I got out, but my bag with the phone was...”

I started to finish her sentence, but she cut me off.

“at the bottom of the pool. Yeah. So I dragged myself out of the pool. No one helped. They all just stood and stared, holding their paper plates..... So I walked through the sliding doors into the house. I asked someone where the phone was and called Dale.”

OK. All the facts matched the sensational stories I heard, but hearing it from Katherine, through her eyes... it was a very different story. Still alarming, but in an entirely different way.

“So I called Dale. And he called the suits. And the cops came. And Dale and some studio lackey got me out... and “

“Into rehab.” I nodded. She shook her head.

“Cover story. Dale knew I really needed to unplug. He kept telling me after wrapping 'Birds I needed to clear my calendar. The studio assholes knew it was a cover too, but they didn't want anyone asking just how I got those drugs in my system, so they just bought Dale's bullshit at face value.”

“So no rehab?”

“Well.... Check in at a ...facility outside Ashland Oregon. Very private. Very discreet. Cops and suits got copies of the admission papers and were happy. I got time to step away from all the bullshit. After a week or so, Dale came to get me. He found this place. Client of his had done theater and commercial work in New York, but was now working mostly in L.A. and B.C.... so he moved his family out. Sublet his condo in Manhattan but didn't want to sell their Connecticut place. So everybody won. And here I am. Not missing the bullshit at all. And keeping up with reports. On you.”

Oh crap. I couldn't help but squirm.

“And apparently, I'm also….looking well.” she said with what could have been the slightest smile.

“And YOU.” she looked right through me. I think I went white.

“Take your shoes off.” She said it with such authority I didn't question this odd directive.

“Stand.”

I complied. She slowly circled around me. Like some sort of predatory animal. She grabbed me by the wrist and circled her fingers around them. She then stuck her hand against mine... her right, my left. It looked like a person praying. ONE person praying. ….she continued to walk around me. She stepped against my back. I felt her butt pressing into mine as she tilted her head back until it touched the back of mine. She stepped away and continued to circle.

“Shit.”

She said nothing more for the longest time.

“I'm looking well, huh?” ….I nodded... “Well, shit. You're looking ….” I think she was groping for words.... “A hell of a lot more than well.”

I laughed nervously.

“Where the hell did they find you?”

“Well... I ran into Dez in the hotel lobby... I was soaked from getting caught....”

“No. NO. Not the cover story.... We all heard the creation myth.... the real story.”

“No. That's really how it happened. Who could make this stuff up?”

“You'd be surprised” she said. Then she regarded me for a while.

“So you really were in town after winning a lookalike contest?”

“No! Contest yes. Lookalike? No. My cousin won a national contest from a TV network back home and he's only 17 so I was sent along as his plus one.. then I met Dez and...”

“So you're NOT an impersonator?”

“NO!” Then I thought about it. “Well, I guess I am now.... but no. I had no idea I looked anything like you.”

“How could you NOT know?”

“That's what everyone keeps asking. It was never on my radar. Certainly not that I looked like anyone else. Let alone someone famous. ...a famous woman.... I'd never even worn women's clothes!”

“So it's true. You are a male.” she shook her head slowly trying to digest this notion.

“Never really much of one, truth be told....” I replied with embarrassment.

That evoked a strangled, guttural sound and a look I couldn't read. She regarded me for a moment and waved her hand dismissively. “Well, I was always a piss-poor excuse for a woman.... all the tutors and finishing schools couldn't change that. No matter. I made it work. ….and you do too.”

My anxiety finally began to fade. I sensed that she was OK with things. More than OK. That somehow I had stumbled into some elaborate scheme, and that she and Doctor Dale were the puppetmasters. Or at least co-conspirators.

“I just have one question...” I began.

“Only one?”

“Well, to START....” I shifted nervously, not sure how to broach the subject. I decided to do what I imagined Katherine would do and just plunged in, diplomacy be damned.

“What the hell is IN those shots he keeps giving me?”

“You'll have to ask him that.” and she looked away. I thought she glanced at the front hall, and I half expected him to walk down the stairs as if on cue. Then I realized that I was being ridiculous. Katherine seemed a bit disappointed also that we didn't have that soap opera moment where the subject appears from nowhere right on cue. She sat back down. So I did too.

“So what now?” I asked. She shrugged.

“We wait.”

“For what?” All I got from Katherine was pokerface. I was pretty sure it wasn't waiting for Putnam's finest to haul me away for trespassing. Then I started to think about 'Putnam's finest'....

“So how do you like it here in the real world?” I smiled.

She shrugged. “I'm not so sure it is the real world. It's very storybook. Kind of the way everyone imagines a quaint New England town. Definitely doesn't seem like the real world.”

“Well... it's been so long since you've been in the real world.....” as the words were leaving my mouth, I thought of what I did know about Katherine's past. Feral street kid, plucked up by an ambitious photographer and near overnight sensation... the world of modeling, world travel, runway shows, appearances in music videos... coming to Hollywood as an already bankable superstar with all the unwelcomed attention that goes with it. As far as I knew, her only life experiences were surviving on the street and the surreal model experiences. I presumed that whatever preceded her homelessness had to be at least as rough as the streets she sought refuge in. So to her, was the 'real world' everything she experienced prior to being 'discovered'? No wonder a sleepy little town seemed just as surreal.

“No. Sorry. I spoke out of turn. I think I get it.”

She just cocked her head at me quizzically. I think she was trying to work out how I could possibly 'get it'.

We were startled by the doorbell. I figured it was Dennis and Matt checking to make sure Katherine hadn't killed her clone or something. Katherine seemed to be expecting this too, since she calmly rose and walked to the door.

“About fucking TIME!” I heard her declare. I smirked and wondered if this was how she answered the door for everyone.

Dennis and Matt came in followed by a really shy Mikey and...

“Doctor DALE?” I couldn't hide my shock. Even though I had somehow expected him to materialize on cue when Katherine and I talked about him earlier. I tried to form a coherent question, but too many poured from my brain, colliding horribly like a slapstick troupe trying to storm a revolving door.

“What.... How are you.. I mean... did you... WHAT THE HELL?”

He just smiled and and put up his hand... and with a twinkle in his eye, said “calm down young lady. Don't make me give you another shot....” I knew he was kidding, but it still made me shudder. And snapped me out of it.

“When I heard about you canceling the last week of Europe, I got just a little suspicious... oh, you played it well.... I'm just attuned to this sort of thing.... having arranged so many myself....”

And I caught him shoot a warm glance at Katherine.

“So I got a hold of your flight plan and thought there was a chance you might be up to what you actually were up to....” He nodded at Dennis and me. “Well planned and deftly executed.” He looked around to make sure we were still following.

“So I called Katherine and told her my suspicions.” He chortled “...and her response was..”

I cut him off by loudly declaring “About fucking TIME!” in my 'Katherine voice' that was SO spot on, I even kind of surprised myself. But the expressions on everyone's faces was priceless! Everyone but Katherine, that is. She had an expression on her face too. One I read as 'TOO real...'

I quickly smiled and let out a nervous giggle to break the tension. That got us kind of back on track, although I think everyone – myself included – was a bit rattled by my Katherine impression.

“Right...” Doctor Dale continued hesitantly. “So I caught the first plane out to try to intercept you when you landed. Only I thought you'd be flying into Hartford.”

“Worcester was easier. It's just a G5, so we didn't need a big airport, and it's more discreet.” Dennis said.

“Good points. Your plan was better than I'd surmised. ..So... I'm in my hotel in Hartford when I get a call from Katherine that you're knocking on her front door.”

“I didn't see the bell....” for some reason I felt really foolish over this utterly unimportant random oversight.

“Well, that's not the point. YOU were here, and I was still in Hartford. So I told her to stall you and got here as quickly as I could.”

“You told KATHERINE to stall?” Dennis guffawed. Then he shot her a really contrite look.

“Oh, god I'm so sorry!”

I could tell, as if I didn't already know, how much he truly cared for her.

For her part, she just shrugged. “Kind of my reaction too.” Then she looked at me.... “But it went OK. ….We talked.”

This stunned everyone. I think she could have said 'we smoked meth and sacrificed neighborhood pets' and they would have been less surprised.

“You TALKED?” Dennis stared at Katherine. He was still trying to process this. “....About WHAT?”

“Oh, just this and that” I volunteered, trying to make it seem mundane and not as supremely weird and out of character as it obviously was.

“Just girl talk.” I smiled at Katherine. For just the briefest moment we made eye contact, and I got the distinct feeling she approved of my explanation.

It was still a weird moment, and I think everyone was eager to change the subject, so Dr Dale took over hosting duties – since I think he knew Katherine would let us all stand in the foyer for hours.

“Shall we adjourn to the living room?”

We all sat uncomfortably, just glancing from one to the other for the longest time.

Dennis was regarding Katherine with the warmest smile in his eyes. By all accounts, she made his life hell, but he truly seemed to have been worried about her. The relief and … affection in his eyes said it all. I was now convinced he was her 'brother from another mother'. His virtual older sister, whom he adored ….and slightly feared.

Mikey was all wide-eyed fanboy. Regarding Katherine like a wildlife photographer who had just stumbled across a mythical beast. To him, Katherine was like a unicorn... or something more dangerous.... maybe a gryphon. I stifled a snort as the thought 'Kathy Gryphon' flashed into my mind before I quickly swatted it. Mikey was in fanboy nirvana, no doubt composing the juicy chapter of the tell-all book he'd never be allowed to write.

Matt was harder to read. I think he was filled with mixed emotions. Pleased that he'd solved 'the mystery'. Perhaps thinking how many of his former colleagues would kill to be where he is now, and maybe pained that he had given his word that he put that world behind him, knowing how much he could cash in on this. His eyes darted between Katherine and me. I think he was sizing us up. Comparing us. And maybe I'm just projecting, but I got the sense that he was looking more fondly at me.

Doctor Dale seemed be to sitting back, appraising the situation – much like I was. Clinically eyeing everyone in the room.... observing their body language, their facial expressions and their eyes. I also picked up that he noticed we both were doing the very same thing by his slight smile as he regarded me in his scanning of the group.

Katherine was unreadable. Just as I expected. I instantly understood her reputation as the toughest negotiator in a profession known for its hardball tactics and sharklike behaviour. Her face and body language betrayed nothing. She seemed to be taking in the whole room, yet looking at nothing in particular. I could see how that could really rattle someone sitting across a negotiating table. She was also unbelievably ….still.... not a twitch or a rustle... while I knew she was not holding her breath, she was so motionless there was not even a hint of respiration from her chest or nostrils. It was eerie. And apparently I'm a freak too, because rather than finding this disturbing, I found it utterly fascinating.

I knew there was something going on behind those eyes. But it wasn't tumbleweeds in a desert. I reckoned it was more an alien landscape that no one else could even imagine, but one where Katherine felt perfectly at home and at ease.

I also got the distinct feeling that she was observing me observing her. I felt as if she could discern what I was thinking. I know that sounds silly, but it was one of the strongest feelings I ever had, and I believed it. I also felt that she didn't disapprove of my assessment, but was surprised that I made it. Then I came out of my little head-game when I noticed the nervous fidgeting and throat clearing from around the room. This little Mexican Standoff had gone on for a few minutes and everyone – except Katherine and I – were getting really uncomfortable.

I glanced at Katherine and her eyes briefly darted to mine then back to her zen gaze at the room. OK. She was not going to go. I guess it was up to me.

“So, what now?” I asked Dr Dale. Everyone startled slightly at the sudden sound in the eerily quiet room.

He looked at me. Unsure of the question.

“I mean. Do I go back home now?”

He nodded. “Yes. I guess that would make sense.”

“OK. So does the studio book our flight or do we do it ourselves? I may have trouble with the Passport” I grinned. “I don't look much like the picture anymore.”

Dr Dale was perplexed. “What? Pass.... oh! Home! ….You meant do you go back to Australia?”

I nodded. “What else?”

“Well, there's still the Asian leg in a few weeks and you did sign an open-ended contract with non-negotiable pickup clause. I thought you meant back home to Monterey.”

“I thought Katherine would want her life back.”

“You're doing fine with it” she said to the air... I guess to the entire room. “I'm good here.”

“Don't you miss it?” I was stunned that she wanted the deception to continue... with her explicit blessing.

“If I missed it, I wouldn't be here. Nor would you.”

OK. That made perfect sense, and I felt foolish that I hadn't figured that out myself.

“So... what? I just 'be you' for the rest of the tour while you chill out here in pastoral Connecticut?”

“Works for me.” she said flatly. I looked at Dr Dale for ...a second opinion... he just looked at Katherine.... then at me....

“It wasn't supposed to play out this way. You were certainly not supposed to get all Veronica Mars on us and instigate a quest for Katherine, let alone actually find her. Once we saw you ace the premiere, and everything you did afterward.... we thought people might actually be relieved that Katherine was not around. People seemed much more fond of you, so we figured no one would be in any rush to look into Katherine's prolonged absence. LEAST of all you!”

I thought that was a very insulting thing to say about Katherine. Especially in front of Katherine. But when I looked for a reaction, her face remained impassive.

“I just felt like I was stealing her life. It ate away at me.”

“You weren't stealing my life. You were doing my chores. And I was getting a long overdue break.” she said flatly.

I felt immensely better.

This very strange encounter lasted only a few minutes longer. I did ask for, and willingly got, Katherine's contact info. We exchanged phone numbers and Skype IDs. I told her anytime she wanted her life back, to say the word. And asked if it would be alright to contact her now and then if I had a tricky question about being Katherine. She insisted that that was never going to happen, which was why she didn't hesitate to give me her contact info, certain that I'd never need to use it.

As we were leaving, I turned to Dr Dale.

“You caught a fast flight out here hoping to intercept me. Did you book a return trip?”

“It never got that far” he smiled.

“Well, I think we're heading your way. Care to hitch a ride on the gulfstream?”

He smiled at me as he walked over to his rental car and opened the trunk to show me his packed bags.

“You knew I was going to offer. Didn't you?”

He just smiled. “Why don't you ride with me to the plane and give the others some room?” he said loudly so Matt, Dennis and Mikey could hear as they walked to Matt's rental.

“You're a very perceptive person. And an uncanny judge of people.” I grinned.

“You too.” He leaned in and whispered to me. He regarded me with a look I couldn't gauge. If I didn't know any better, I'd mistake it for admiration. “You GET Katherine.... don't you?” he said quietly.

I nodded. “I think I'm beginning to.... You know, walk a mile in someone's shoes and all that.”

He shook his head. “No. It's not just familiarity with her world. There are people who have been with her... immersed in her world... for years ….and they still don't get her.”

I saw him glance at Dennis.

“I think you're underestimating people.” I smiled, clearly looking in Dennis' direction too. “I don't think they have sorted things out intellectually, but I think their heart, and their instincts have figured it out and they know just how to take her.”

He looked at me again for an uncomfortably long moment, and nodded once more. “I'll say it again. Bright girl.”

I think I blushed.

“....And intriguing.” He said as he slipped behind the wheel and pulled on his seatbelt.

“How so?” I asked, not so sure I wanted to hear the answer.

He waited until our doors were shut and we started following Matt to the airport.

“Well... this is the second or third time I've said 'bright girl' and every time you blush.”

“I'm not that bright.” I blushed again.

He laughed. “Oh, you're a delight. I wasn't commenting on your humility. I was observing that every time I said it, you reacted with discomfort to being called bright, but never once reacted to being referred to as a girl.”

“Oh.”

Yep. I'm bright all right. That was my brilliant response. My brain kind of locked as I tried to expand on that. I don't think Dr Dale expected anything more anyway, because he plowed right along.

“You are a gifted judge of people. I keep seeing it every time I pay you a visit. You know just how to handle the various personalities populating Katherine's complicated world......”

I proved to him I was not that modest by determinedly not blushing at that compliment.

“You see through facades and veneers and seem to bore right into people. It's kind of like that new age thing of people who claim to see auras... but the opposite.... you see right down to their core. ….you see right through to their true nature.”

OK. This was getting uncomfortably unctuous. I just fidgeted nervously with my seatbelt.

I sensed he was getting nervous too. He was very perceptive. Was my discomfort making him think twice about this conversation? Would he mercifully change the subject? He just kept glancing at me in his rear view mirror as we drove along, following Matt. There was a long awkward silence. Finally he just let out a deep breath of air.... a prolonged whooshing “pheeeeeeew” sound... like he had just finished a grueling sprint. ...or was steeling himself for something....

“Yet you obviously look in the mirror every day and don't see a thing.”

Huh?

“We'll talk on the plane.” he smiled as he reached over and patted me on the knee. “We'll have hours to chat uninterrupted. And right now I have to focus on my driving. Massachusetts drivers take all my concentration.”

We arrived at the plane in one piece, although I did have my doubts a few moments. I can't say I've never seen driving like that, but I can say that I've only seen it in videogames. After one white knuckle incident, I kiddingly asked Dr Dale if it was too late to ask him for another series of shots. He laughed politely and nodded. Then I reminded myself to seriously corner him about that once we were in the air.

Matt had suggested that Dennis call ahead and inform the pilots about our extra passengers and luggage. They seemed to appreciate the heads up but mentioned that they already took the unplanned layover to top up so we were good. I don't know if Matt's an aviation buff or just someone who is always thinking and good with the details. Either way, I found myself thinking 'he just keeps getting better and better'.

Then I quickly thought about something else.

I looked forward to getting “home” and thought about how I'd missed everyone at Casa Keller. I think we really warmed up to each other during my last stay. Initially, they didn't know what to make of me ...since I seemed to be Katherine, yet kept behaving in very un-Katherine like ways. Which, I learned, meant casually smiling, engaging in smalltalk and addressing them by their names. It all seemed to be just generally cordial behavior to me. Dennis took me aside and let me know how un-Katherine like I was being, but conceded that everyone seemed to relax a bit more around me, so maybe this could just keep with the 'change in meds' rumours, and I should keep it up in the interest of domestic harmony.

I found myself missing the great healthy meals, the little jousts with her personal trainer, running on the beach and visiting with the staff at the shops in town... and those often breathtaking ocean sunsets. I had to admit, I was glad that I got to 'be' Katherine Keller for a while longer. Then my mind wandered to the Asian leg of our press tour... and our visit to Oz. I knew there was no way we could avoid meeting up with Mikey's family, and by extension my mum and dad too. The run-in with uncle Kevin was bad enough. He hadn't seen L.C. In years and he was really drunk when we met up. Even then I had a hard time putting it over. I would never fool my folks.

Doctor Dale approached me on the plane and suggested that we retire to a far corner where there was a small surface and bench seats. I guess it was an all purpose dining station/desk/work area. It was really a sweet perk to have a corporate jet at our disposal, and again I marveled at the routine trappings of Katherine's world.

We made our excuses to Mikey, Matt and Dennis who paid us no notice. Matt and Dennis were busy one-upping each other with tabloid press war stories to a positively rapt Mikey.

“We really ought to talk.” Dr Dale said quietly as we sat down around the table.

I nodded. “Absolutely.” Then I wondered if his agenda was anywhere close to mine. “About what?”

He just smiled. “Everything”

I could only nod back in agreement. I thought for a moment at the enormity of the conversation ahead and reflexively let out a big breath. “....Where should we start? ….And who goes first?”

“Doesn't really matter.” He eyed me wickedly and with a gleam, waved an open palm and said “Ladies first.”

I snorted and glared at him. I knew what he was trying to do. He smirked and backed off.

“Alright then.” he smiled obsequiously “....age after beauty.”

“Not much better.” I made a point of scowling, hoping to hide my smile. “....fine.....”

He folded his hands and waited patiently. I tried mightily to harness whatever Katherine-ness I possessed, and tried to be as calmly intimidating and eerily focused as she could be. I stared intently at Dr Dale. Which, I realized later, was my 'tell'... because Katherine never made eye contact with anyone. Still, I was intense.... building up my emotional head of steam. I finally said, in what I hoped was my 'quietly menacing' voice... “What the hell is IN those shots???”

Doctor Dale exploded in laughter, which startled and utterly disarmed me.

“Oh.....” he struggled to catch his breath. “Oh my god..... sweetheart, you are precious!!!!”

I sat back and folded my arms tightly. Warring emotions of surprise, indignation and humiliation battled for dominance within me. Was he mocking me? Was he brushing me off as a 'stupid girl'? What the HELL??? I had a right to know, and I was deeply insulted that his response was laughter!

At the other end of the cabin, the others all stopped and turned to look at us, as Dr Dale just kept making dismissive waves with his arm while trying to recompose himself. I just sat there, tightly wrapped, and glowered at him.

“Oh. ...Oh my god. ….I'm sorry.... I just... god... I wasn't expecting...” slowly the hysterical convulsions settled to mere tremors and he was able to utter complete sentences.

“Oh, god... I'm sorry... I really didn't mean to laugh at you... it was just so ….unexpected....”

“Really?” I glared. “This has been going on since the first time we met. And it's been causing me more stress every additional time. What the hell are you doing to me?”

My unrestrained anger squelched his mirth. He shot me a look.... was it contrition?

“I never really gave much thought ….ok, any thought... to how this would seem to you. I fully understand why you are upset, and agree.... you have every right to be.”

I was still angry, but his apology seemed sincere and respectful, so I pushed my anger down.

“So what was so funny? Are you going to tell me what you've been shooting me up with?”

He betrayed a meek smile. “Absolutely. But first, I'd like to ask what you think is in those shots?”

“Well, obviously female hormones..” I replied testily as I waved my arm up and down over my body. “...and almost certainly some mood altering drugs of some kind... increasingly I've been getting these ...thoughts...” I caught myself with a near gasp. I was about to reveal something I'd never even acknowledged to myself! I quickly snapped my mouth shut and regrouped. “I've been having things going through my mind that are definitely not L.C. Things.... maybe Katherine things... I don't know...” I really didn't. I hadn't reflected on any of this. It was all coming out of my mouth as it entered my mind. “....well.... definitely not L.C. thoughts... or feelings... or -” I caught myself again. Just in time, I smugly thought. But Dr Dale was already there.

“...or desires...” he said matter of factly and without a trace of judgment.

I went crimson and stared at the floor.

“So, what the hell IS in those shots you keep giving me???”

He smiled gently and gazed at me.

“Really?”

I was furious and nodded vigorously. 'Of course really!' I thought.

“There were megavitamins, stress complex.... a mild stimulant... similar to atavan... like they give to people with ADD – only in a much smaller dose ….practically homeopathic... to help you ...focus... some mild anti-anxiety compounds.... and androgen blockers....” he quickly held his hand up “NOT to turn you into a woman or to make you 'less of a man'.... they're just to block the ….nervous tension and pent up energy effects of testosterone in the bloodstream. Yes, they may have damped average androgenic processes like beard growth, acne, aggressive tendencies.... but from what I've observed, you didn't seem to exhibit any of those symptoms even before the first injection.” He sat back and took a long look at me. His brow furrowed and I tensed as he leaned in to me. “Nothing in those injections would feminize you.... except.....” and he paused, as if to torture me... I could tell he was trying to ...read me... trying to figure what was going through my mind. I was pretty sure he couldn't, because frankly I wasn't even certain just what was going through my mind at that moment... except hanging on his next words.

“The placebo effect.” he finally muttered.

“WHAT???” I whispered with great agitation. I did not want to draw more attention from the others, so I kept my voice down, but I was shaking with emotion. F'ing 'PLACEBO effect'??? Give me a BREAK!

“Nothing in those shots would or even could 'feminize' you. Yet it is obvious to everyone, you are NOT the same rather androgynous young man we all met that first night. I think, what you thought was in those shots, gave you subconscious permission to become the person sitting before me. Someone who, anyone they came in contact with, would unhesitatingly declare, is unambiguously female.

I was totally gobsmacked. And devastated. Dr Dale didn't make me Katherine Keller. I did!

I tried desperately to compose myself. And Dr Dale was patient and gracious.

“It is what it is” he smiled. “Don't wrestle too hard with it right now. It will eat you up. Just set it aside and deal with it when you're ready. We still have so many other things to discuss. For instance.... when did you know about Katherine?”

I welcomed the change of subject and instantly felt I clicked in to what Dr Dale really meant with his ...deliberately?... vague question.

“You mean when did I notice that Katherine was.....”

He nodded.

“Well... I volunteered in an after school sports program for autistic youth when I was in high school, so I kind of picked up pretty quickly on some behavioral traits.”

“Strictly speaking... Katherine isn't autistic...”

“OK. Granted. But she could be considered ….'on the spectrum' ….Aspergers?”

He nodded “....some people could make that claim.... and it would be hard to refute... But she's very highly functioning, and it manifests mostly as a borderline personality disorder. It could be argued just as persuasively that she's merely a ….difficult personality....”

“But she's generally unaware that she's difficult...” I posed it to him more as a statement than a question. He merely nodded.

“Most of us are surprisingly oblivious to aspects of ourselves that are glaringly apparent to others” he smiled ….and looked at me hard.

I just coughed nervously and quickly steered the conversation back to Katherine.

“OK. She's high functioning ...arguably... borderline... possibly... could be considered 'on the spectrum'. She's high strung... mostly out of frustration over situations and circumstances that are as unreadable to her as red and green christmas wrapping to a colorblind person.”

“I can't argue with anything you said” Dr Dale smiled. “Of course doctor/patient privilege prevents me from actually discussing any particulars of Katherine's situation.... but I will make a random observation that you are a keenly perceptive person. And as I keep saying.... a very clever girl.”

Suddenly I had a devious notion.

“I understand your bond of Doctor Patient confidentiality. And I can't help but respect it....” I grinned wickedly... “even if you wanted to discuss it with someone.... you could only really discuss it with your patient....”

he nodded.

“....Katherine...”

he nodded again.

I adjusted my posture. I sat back and regarded him... trying to be very calm and extremely still. In a monotone voice, and my well-rehearsed suppressed Pittsburgh accent, I asked “Is it true that the double is all but indistinguishable from the original? Can you tell us apart?”

Doctor Dale broke into a devilish grin.

“I sometimes wonder if you two can even tell yourselves apart.”

I forced myself to remain stone faced. I simply gave a curt nod.

“So Dale... can you explain me? I can't.”

“Well...” he grinned, “I did do a little research into what you told me about growing up. As I suspected, the area was rife with biologically active industrial waste. While the method of disposal of all these toxins weren't illegal at the time of their dumping and careless burial, even by the lax standards of the time, their disposal was sloppy and reckless. It would have been a shock if the water table didn't test off the scale for contaminants. It would certainly account for your stillborn younger brother, and the multiple miscarriages your mother reportedly experienced before her own early death. Barring an exhumation we can't be certain, but after auditing health statistics of residents of surrounding communities as well as your own... extremely aggressive uterine cancer seems an overwhelmingly likely cause. As for your father's violent behavior, it's quite possible that grief over your mother's sudden passing may have been a major contributor, as well as the stress of being a single parent and trying to find work in an economically devastated community where the mining industry shriveled and died... still, I'm not willing to rule out severe neurological damage due to the massive amounts of heavy metals and other potent toxins in the water supply and permeating the soil and vegetation throughout the region. I believe the staggeringly inhospitable environment is the fundamental cause of all the physical and neurological damage that devastated the population – and especially the children your age – who grew up in that grievously polluted region. Which for the record, was designated one of the top superfund sites, and has been under environmental remediation – and is still considered uninhabitable – decades after its initial condemnation.”

I just stared at him, trying to imagine the hellish environment Katherine grew up in.

“I believe it's only the fact that you fled your home at such a young age, after being promised as a child bride to a prosperous neighbor, that prevented you from receiving a lethal exposure to the environmental hazards that devastated the community where you were born. If you hadn't panicked and run away, afraid to admit to anyone that you in fact hadn't achieved puberty, and could not possibly bear your elderly neighbor the heirs he intended, then you would have stayed and died a long, slow illness like everyone else. So, ironically, the pollution that caused the fetal damage that made you an infertile, gender ambiguous individual with atypical neurology, ended up saving your life by causing you to flee your hometown and the toxins that permeated it.”

He sat back and watched as I processed all this. I could tell by his expression that he was following my mental process as I traced through all the events and circumstances that made Katherine ...Katherine.

“My God....” I struggled to find the words “...what a story of ….”

He looked at me expectantly

“....survival.... And the others?”

Dr Dale smiled sadly. “In its heyday as a mining community, the town boasted over 9700 residents. That dwindled to about 1200 after the mines closed. Of the residents present up to the EPA condemnation and relocation... there are currently 16 still living... all Katherine's age or younger. All on 100% disability. Suffering from severe Epilepsy, MS, acute schizophrenia, or … debilitating autism. 4 live on their own. The rest are in group homes or medical custody. It seems there really was only one survivor. And all things considered, she isn't just surviving... in her own way, she's thriving.”

He gazed at me with the greatest warmth. I don't know if he was keeping up the ruse that I was Katherine so he could 'recap my history' without violating Doctor Patient privilege, or whether there was another reason. But I knew, as I discovered with Dennis, that Katherine engendered fierce loyalty and protectiveness in those around her. I was beginning to understand the depth of that loyalty, and was beginning to count myself as among her inner circle of protectors.