Elan Owen -3- The Five Minute Rule

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So what would you do if you were in a public place and discovered that a diabolical device had changed your gender?


Chapter 3
The Five Minute Rule

By Jesse Rabbit

 


Thanks be to all of you for your feedback and praise. I was really nervous about posting this for many reasons (No, fear of flames wasn't one of them). This marks a real change for me. I have posted the first chapters of several stories elsewhere under other names and although I wrote the first chapters and had plans for a few more I never wrote anything more for those stories. never, not even chapter 2. I always felt a little guilty about writing them i think.

But this is my third chapter, and it's like this story wants to be told. So forgive me for any spelling mistakes or grammer problems, it's not that i don't care about being perfect, but if i take the time to be perfect i won't ever continue. I'm a perfectionist and if I let myself worry about getting everything perfect--well, let's just say that it never will be perfect.

Another thing that keeps me going is all the wonderful comments, especially the very first, I would love to know who posted it and give them a big kiss. It's nice to know that what you are writing might be understood by the audience. It's nicer to know that they like it, even a little bit. Hell, it's nice if they care enough to flame you cause then you know you struck a chord (Or at least sucked in a truly memorable way).

So, thank you all. I hope you are enjoying the ride as much as i am. I know that Elan's story might be a long one and I shall try and get you chapters of it whenever possible. I love writing. It's my life, it's my art, it's my everything. I'd rather be doing it than having sex, and that's kinda sad and really lame I know, but it's true. I'm not sure where Elan's voyage will take him/her but I'm enjoying the trip and I have at least a dozen more stops already on the itenerary, just waiting for details. Thank you, and enjoy.

P.S. - Thanks to the Staff of Big Closet. I love my logo, it's so cool. And Purple is my favorite Color.


So there I was, in the magazine stacks in the library of the exclusive private school my parents had sentenced me to, minding my own business, trying to hide until 3:30 pm or so; giving myself twenty minutes for everyone to leave and for Karen to give up and head home. You'd think that a library would be a good place to hide and get a little quiet time alone to think wouldn't you? Well, then you'd be wrong.

It was quiet--for about ten minutes, and I relaxed, caught my breath, and let my heart beat slow back to a semblance of a regular rhythm. Big mistake, calming down, but too much andrenaline isn't good for the body--then again, neither is having a gender-shifting-related heart attack. So for the next ten minutes I gathered myself back together enough to try and figure out what I was going to do in a calm and logical fashion--or at least that was the plan.

The Watch, notice that I've given the diabolical thing proper noun status, had ideas--or at least programming--to the contrary. As soon as I'd become calm enough to think, the thing began beeping softly and I had to quickly cover it with my hand to keep the noise from carrying too far and acting like a Librarian-homing beacon. The hand didn't help at all, but the beeping stopped a couple of seconds later on its own, so I removed my hand and looked down at the watch.

The time screen had cleared again and in the place of the time this message scrolled by "Rotate the watch face 180 degrees clockwise." Confused I did so, I mean, I was a girl, for God's sake, it's not like The Watch could do much worse to me, right? Turns out I was right and wrong on that count--but that's for later.

So I turn the watch face and the watch pops open to reveal what looks like the inside of one of those old fashioned picture lockets, two round black panels and nothing else--now, that's what it looked like at first, but--like a second later, the panels began to glow blue and in the space between them a hologram of a head began to take shape.

I had to cover my mouth with my free hand to keep from gasping out loud--it was Grandpa Horace's head, only glowing blue, tiny, and floating over my wrist. It's probably a good thing that he was already dead cause at that moment I would have strangled him to death all the while screaming "What have you done to me you madman!!!!" Which come to think of it would probably have stopped him from telling me what he had done to me and why, rather permanently. So it's a good thing he was already dead. On the other hand, choking the life out of the old coot would probably made me feel better, at least until I went to jail for like a billion years. I wonder if I would go to a girl's prison--that might be fun--Was I a lesbian now?

All these thoughts raced through my mind as I watched, stunned, as The Watch created an image of my grandfather. I was even more stunned when the head began to speak. Then I nearly panicked as I realized how loud the head was speaking, but the head's first words kept me from trying something drastic, either that or simply passing out from panic in a dead faint. The head said "Don't worry, no one can hear this but you"

See? That's when I knew that I was going mad--well, more mad than genetics had made me I guess. The Watch's next words confirmed it, when it said "No, you are not going mad." See!? Denial! I felt hysteria welling up inside, and was just about to break down into sobbing giggles when the watch gave me a single, hard, painful jolt. I kept from screaming only cause I bit my tongue, gah! did that hurt!

The Watch continued, "Please do not panic, there is no cause for alarm, Elan."

No Cause? No Cause! NO F*****G CAUSE? I'm a girl now you old loony!!!

As if I had spoken to it instead of just thinking all that the head laughed softly, "No, really, Elan. It's a present, not a curse. The manual will explain everything in greater detail, but just know this. The process is completely and easily reversible, so think of it as an adventure. So, have fun, don't tell anyone, especially your parents, not only will they get mad at me--I know I'm dead, but still--if you tell them about this they will most likely take the watch away, and after you read the manual you won't want that. Also, if you tell them, then they might not take their presents from me, and then you'd never get to find out what mischief I have in store for them, especially little Mike. Shame her birthday is last on the list, huh? Fifth of October. So I'm going to make you a deal. You put up with this for one year and you get the patent that makes it possible. And trust me, it can do a lot more than just shift your gender. So. What do you say? Yes, or No?"

And at that the head disappeared and a button appeared on each holo-panel: one labeled Yes and the other No. Know what? I jabbed my thumb at the No button as fast as I could. Not only that, I hit it again and again and again and again. I think I was growling.

The head reappeared, half not there cause my thumb was blocking part of the projection. Grandpa laughed and gave me that annoying smirk of his and said "Good! Knew I could count on you Elan! You always were a square egg." Grandpa always called people that, I don't know why or what in the name of Bugs Bunny it means. "Have fun, and don't tell anyone."

I know I growled then, and if I could have removed the damn thing I would have flung it across the room and then jumped up and down on it, screaming in rage. I cried out "I SAID NO! DAMNIT!" and then realized what I had done and covered my mouth with both hands and whimpered. I listened real hard and heard feet, small librarian feet and larger student feet rushing over towards where I was. SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT!!!!!!!

I looked round wildly for a way to escape and--as the footsteps grew louder and voices started calling out asking if everything was okay--I realized that it was hopeless. I turned, tossed my bag a few aisles down the stacks and began calling "Is everything, okay?" I figured that if it looked like I was trying to help they wouldn't realize that I wasn't the one who cried out. Two seconds later Miss Pertry and three 6th graders rounded the corner and spotted me looking round in confusion.

"Are you okay?" we both asked at the same time (well, I was slightly slower having started just as saw her mouth open to ask me).

She looked at me with those owl like librarian eyes and humphed "You didn't see what happened back here did you, young lady?"

I shook my head and said in as polite and lady-like a tone as I could "No, Miss Pertry. I was over in the Seventeens," I was guessing that's where my bag had landed, "looking for the President Ciccone interview from last year. It's for my poly-civ class." She nodded, still looking around to see if she could figure out what had happened, so I continued "Then I heard this voice cry out something and I got up and looked but there was no one here. Maybe it was a prank?"

She looked at me sharply for a second when I said that, but I guess she figured that a prankster would have been smarter than to bring up the suggestion, cause her face softened and she nodded.

As she turned away I mentally heaved a sigh of relief, figuring that I'd gotten away with it, but my relief was short lived, cause after she sent the 6th graders she turned back to me with a frown. I figured I was in for it--and I was right.

"Did someone try and touch you, dear?" She asked in a soft concerned, parental kind of voice, "It's okay to tell me."

She smiled softly, to show me that it was okay, but it wasn't cause I had no clue at all what she was talking about, none at all. My confusion must have registered on my face but she clearly misinterpreted it as confusion about how she knew it was me who had cried out and not confusion after what-in-the-name-of-Elvis she was talking about; 'cause she shook her head and smiled softly, "Dear, there's no one else back here, and you have a very pretty voice. It's very easy to recognize. You should try out for choir."

I had to pinch myself to keep from telling her that I already was in choir cause I know she'd know I was lying, even though I wasn't, 'cause I was in choir, but not in this body and I got really confused then and had to sit down, which I did.

This turned out to be exactly the wrong thing to do, because it seemed to convince her that something really had happened. She came over and knelt beside me on the floor, put her hand softly on my shoulder and said, in a soft voice that held nothing but compassion, "It's okay, dear, you can tell me anything you like, or not. It's your choice and I'm not going to force you. And if you want to tell me something I'll try and keep it confidential unless I think I have to tell for your own safety, okay?"

I nodded, trying to keep from crying, touched by her concern and her honesty. I finally figured out that she thought someone had tried to touch me--you know--sexually, and nearly giggled. Well, that is to say that what came out was nearly a giggle, but halfway through it turned into sobbing. I just collapsed against her and cried and cried and cried, for I don't know how long, but I think at some point one of the 6th grade girls came back to ask her something and I think Miss Pertry told her to use the comp really softly and the girl went away, but I'm not really sure. She just held me and patted my back and made soft soothing noises until I finally stopped.

She helped me sit back up and gave me a dry wipe clean up with. I pulled it from its slip case, wiped my eyes, blew my nose--rather loudly--giggled sheepishly, slipped it back into its case and, pressing the Cleanse button, handed it back to her.

She brushed a lock of my newly elongated hair out of my eyes and asked "All better now?"

I shook my head and she nodded as if she understood. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, her tone making it clear that it was okay if I said no. I shook my head again and she sighed but nodded. "My door is always open to students if you want to talk. I know how you students dislike talking to teachers or parents, or, lord forbid the school counselor, but if you need to talk, about anything--"

I nodded and gave her a unsteady smile. "I...thanks, Miss Pertry, but its just..." I trailed off, unsure what to say or....

She helped me to my feet and smiled down at me. "Second lunch ended fifteen minutes ago, dear. Let me give you a pass so that you don't get into trouble. You might want to go to the bathroom and freshen up so I'll give you an five extra minutes, okay."

I nodded and followed her up to the checkout desk. She looked at me and smiled "I think you forgot something, dear."

I must have looked so confused because she laughed. Miss Pertry has a really nice laugh (and a nice voice--which is good cause she's one of the three choir coaches. We have one for the boys, one for the girls and the choir teacher who works with us as a group.) Anyway, she pointed at the stacks and said, not quite able to remove the laugh from her voice, "You forgot your bag, and your magazine dear." I blushed, I know I did cause my face felt like it was about a trillion degrees Kelvin. I turned and ran back to the stacks, grabbed my bag and quickly flipped through the issues of Seventeen until I found the one with the President's face on the cover. My parents told me that she used to be a singer before she went into politics, but I think they must be joking.

So I went back to the desk and gave Miss Pertry the magazine. Then panic hit me again when she asked for my library card, cause I couldn't give it to her, now could I? She laughed and smiled when she saw my face go all red again. "Don't have one?" I shook my head, although I've had a NoCal (the Diet State) library card since I was like three. She nodded and asked "Did you bring your Identi-Card?" again I shook my head and she gave me a grin. "Too much to remember, huh?" and I nodded cause I'm always forgetting it. Dad threatened to have it grafted onto my arm if I lost the thing again, which I have like seven times. In fact, I once left it at home when the family was going on vacation to Tokyo, so the Aerospace port security personnel wouldn't let me on the spaceplane, so my dad had to drive me home to get it while Mom and the rest went on ahead. They were so mad.

Miss Pertry just smiled at me and asked "What's your name, dear?"

I blanked for a moment and she smiled, "So I can issue you a card, silly."

I laughed and after a second's consideration told her "Elayne. Elayne Grace."

She nodded, typed it into the comp, scanned the mag's barcode, printed out a note and signed it. She handed me the pile, with my new card sitting on top. "We can fill out the rest of the information for your account, tomorrow. Don't forget your Indenti-Card, Okay Elayne?"

I nodded. I mean, what else could I do. I took my stuff and headed for the door. I was almost through it when Miss Pertry called "Elayne? Dear?"

I turned and looked back "Yes, Miss?"

"Remember, No means no. If someone doesn't stop when you want them to stop, no matter what, you should run and find someone in charge and tell them what happened. No one will think you are a snitch. Remember, okay? No one has the right to touch you if you don't want them to, okay?"

I nodded, again. I mean, what else could I do. And I left the library, took the first left and headed out into the arboretum. I needed to think again, and it wasn't getting any easier. Just to see, I looked down at the note and laughed. It said "Please Excuse Elayne for being tardy to class, she was helping me with some sorting in the Library. Miss Pertry." It was funny, it really was. I was excused from class, but I wasn't cause I wasn't Elayne, but I was. I ruthlessly squashed that train of thought cause it was likely to make me hysterical again if I didn't.

I sat down at one of the tables and looked at The Watch. "Damn you." I whispered. I didn't think it would help but I began to press the buttons one by one, hoping one would change me back and then all this madness would be over. The mode button yielded a chrono, a ten phase alarm, a timer, and a data-link, but no help. The menu button yielded programming options, voice recorder, games, translator, gps, and memo system, but no help. The telecomm button yielded internet, cell phone, and instant messenger, but no help. The light button was no help. The set button was no help. The reset button was no help. The red button beeped when I pressed it and the word PANIC came up on the screen. Then something helpful happened.

The watch instructed me to open it back up and Grandpa's head reappeared. "I see you found the Panic Button, Elan. Very good. I figured you would. This button has two uses. If you push it three times in rapid succession it will call both Emergency services and your parents. Having done so it will transmit your location and lock into Panic Mode. You can read more about Panic Mode in the manual. But what is probably more important to you right now is its other function. If you press and hold both the Panic button and the Mode button for eleven seconds it will reverse your gender."

I almost crowed with glee--but then The Watch of DOOM began to speak again. I know Grandpa put that pause there just to annoy me, I KNOW it. Bastard.

"That is, it will reverse it for exactly five minutes, no more, no less. And it will only work twice per day. Twice per day, for five minutes each. And I was nice, that twice per day resets at 11:01 a.m. and p.m. PST. So its really once per day and once per night, but whatever. So enjoy, and remember, Elan, have fun." With that his head disappeared again and I throttled thin air for a few seconds.

Wonderful! For five minutes every twelve hours I could be normal again. This sucked. What sucked even worse was that someone--Vice Principal Andrews--chose that moment to come out into the arboretum and instantly her eyes locked onto mine and I realized that I was going to be in deep, deep trouble. So I did the only thing I could, given the circumstances--I turned and ran like all the hounds of hell were chasing me.


To be continued in Part 4 - What's the Interest on Borrowed Time?

Elan, his family, friends, and Story are copyright 2002 Jesse Rabbit. Feel free to distribute as long as you do it for free. Anyone who wants to adapt this into any other medium (Like a movie, hint hint) should leave me a comment with an email addy. :P Thanks and enjoy.

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Comments

Elan

Is having quite the misadventure.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Elan

After reading this I think Elan's voice sounds more mature than the 11 years claimed. I was guessing the 14 5o 15 year old thing. That could be due to his being advanced in classes a few years so no big deal don't you know. Also its been longer than I want to admit since I was that age so I could be easily wrong! Somehow I think Grandpa intends on getting his way no matter what, but for now I'm with holding judgment on Elan's change. I do have my buttons, and I wouldn't wish Gender Identity Dilemma (Sorry Laika your version is much better than Dysphoria!) on my worst enemy much less a kid. We will see what Grandpa has in mind. I was wondering what did it matter if Elan told anyone or not. They should SEE something is a little different NOW. I would hope his parents would notice if not his sister who has her birthday in OCT.
hugs!
grover

Solid!

Very solid sci-fi premise and "stuff". Just love the way you work new future-tech ideas and environment into the story as you go.

The characters are great, too. I think you're doing an excellent job with this, especially if you're hammering out these chapters off the cuff and just posting them!

Impressive. Just keep doing whatever you're doing, Hon. It's working!

grampa was a ass

laika's picture

Reminds me of those jerks (back in the 20th century, but there's probably some still doing it) who would give LSD to someone without their consent or knowledge because it will be "good for them", expand their horizons- Oh were you driving on the freeway when the effects hit? Oops, sorry ....... A violation, I'm not even sure what you'd call his crime, but definitely not cool (and so cowardly, hiding behind death like that!). But if he HADN'T done it, there wouldn't be this amusing story. Elan could just go to the school authorities, explain the situtation ("That's a rather outlandish claim, young lady!" ~~~ "Oh yeah, well watch what happens for five minutes when I push this button!"); but again, no story there, and embarrassment does make people hide situations, for a regular male-identified boy that age there would just be something wrong about changing gender, his doing or not ........ While Grandpa seems to be horribly cavalier about Elan/Elayne's wishes, it's a technology that is gonna make some people very happy, and the patent holder heller rich, so---barring some comical disaster by which the watch and its specs are lost---a lot of good will come out of this after Gramps has had his posthumous fun. A fun science fiction near future; a little social & technological
extrapolation, a little satire, and again a great narrative voice to it all...
~~hugs, Laika

I never got to do LSD :(

I was too busy in the Military, though some of the guys were tearing Darvon pills apart and making super screw me up pills. I didn't do those either because I was too afraid of getting in Truble. :(

Gwendolyn

You didn't miss a thing

LSD never seemed to be all that great, IMHO. 'Shrooms, on the other hand, were nice. VERY nice! Mescaline . . . don't even ask.

Damaged people are dangerous
They know they can survive

Maybe Gramps…

…is just having what we might call POSTHUMOUROUS FUN

LOL

Gabi

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Why do I get the feeling

Why do I get the feeling that Elan and her family are in for a "Wild ride", courtesy of Granddad? He seems to have thought of some type of "special present" for each family member. Kinda makes you want to know what Mike is going to get doesn't it? J-Lynn

Sweet story

This is lovely. Keep up the good work.

Hugs

Alys

Yep, I definitely like your

Yep, I definitely like your imagination.
It's refreshing to read you.
And you seem to enjoy a laugh as much as me :)

It's a good story with a very 'eeevil' Grandfather.
And the bastard has hidden himself where no one can get to him too.
The coward!!!
And he is laughing, oh yes, I can hear his echoes down the corridors....Hahahaha
Let's see who gets the last laugh, shall we...

cheers
Yoron.