What Mother Didn't Know - Book 2
by Barbara Lynn Terry
(Author's note: You have all spoken and I have listened. I had to take some time to figure out how to start book 2, so I will start where I left off in book 1. Thank you all for reading and commenting on book 1. Barbara)
Chapter 1 - At home after the hearing.
When we got home from the courthouse, we all sat down and had a little talk in the dining room. Daddy was even home for this too.
"Well Susan," Mr. Marks started. "I think this all went well. Now it is up to all of us to see that your mother completes her probation. She will not be able to get custody of Angela right off the bat, because the court will want to see how she acts in society when she is released. Angela could be eighteen before she could even try to get custody of Angela. You will already be an adult when she gets out. So, for right now, at least, we have to make her see you as her daughter. She did good when she thanked you for what the judge did. But we have to make sure this isn't some game she is playing to work on your sympathy and kind heart.
"We can only do that by letting you in on her therapy sessions, now and then. I will speak to Dr. Treffert and ask him if that would be ok. He will be your mother's ward doctor when she gets there."
Dr. Darold A. Treffert, PHD, MD, was a tall man over six feet, and was slim and young looking. His looks belied his late thirties, and he looked more like a tall baskeball player just out of high school. He was a gentle man, and a caring man too. Tomorrow mother would be at the hospital, and it wasn't that far from here, so we could visit her anytime. I really do want to visit her. I want her to see "me" and not the "boy" she thought I was, or was raising me as. Don't ask me why I know, I just know mother is not a bad person, maybe a little mixed up, but definitely not bad. The threat she made to me in court, I never took really all that seriously, although I talked to mom about it.
Now things were over as far as court was concerened, but I will never stop loving her. Maybe if she sees what love is in somone else's eyes, maybe she will be able to grasp the concept. Love isn't something you give from the mind. Love is what you give from the heart, and then you know it is real. Love to some is just a superficial word that means they can have sex with their mate. But when we love someone like our sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, even our other relatives and friends, it is a different kind of love. It is a love that says I'm with you no matter what.
But when a parent is unable to show that love to their child, then they end up like mother. I only hope that as time goes on, she gets better. Even though I have a good family right here, and they have loved me since I have known Bobbie, I still miss my birth mother. I guess it is like Mr. Marks said. I have a kind and gentle heart, and only want what is best for others. I will be thirteen in August, but I think like some responsible adults. I guess that is because, except for Bobbie and Cindy, I was pretty much around adults. It is cool for a child my age to act like an adult. Of course some of the boys act so much like an adult they can get served in almost any tavern.
But you know the best part of being able to act like an adult, when you have to is, knowing how to talk to them. I am an avid reader of the Webster's Unabridged International Dictionary, and I am very good at spelling. English composition not so much, but spelling is my Forte (pronounced fort, and if you would like to know when this became a word, it was 1648. Here is the link: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/forte). So I guess I can hold my own when I talk to mother's doctors at the hospital. Even though I only know what stat means in medical language, I can still talk to the doctors about mother's condition, and what we can do to help her. I was very happy when the judge said she was being civily committed and it was because of me. I still feel I should be a part of her treatment. Some of you are wondering why at twelve years old, I started to really buck mom on raising me as a boy. I will give you some background on how I have thought like a girl through the years I was growing up.
Chapter 2 - Susan, the beginning.
I was born in Iowa, and was taken back to Wisconsin by my mother shortly after I was born. Mother had friends in Michigan's upper peninsula, and would take me up there every summer, until I turned five years old. She put me on the train to the U.P., and charged the conductor with my care, until I was picked up at the station. That poor conductor, but he was nice though. An older man, and he had a nice smile and a gentle manner. He even bought me a Coke and a sandwich in the club car. It was really nice. When we had gotten to the U.P., he asked where were my grand folks as he put it, and I pointed out Grandma Dolly. He took me over by her and we hugged. The conductor asked Grandma Dolly if my mother was always that pushy and explaiend what she had said to him at the station in Milwaukee. Grandma Dolly laughed a little and said where I was concerned yes she was. I thought about that for a moment though, then let it go.
But my female feelings go back before I was five years old. When I was three years old, we had a very nice birthday party and everybody my age was there that we knew. When I was looking out the window at the girls jumping rope, auntie Caroline came over to me and asked me what was wrong, because she saw that I was crying.
"I want to go play with those girls."
"Honey, you're a boy, and boys don't play jump rope. That is a girl's game." I was really crying this time, and I ran to my room. Auntie Caroline came in my room, and tried to explain things, but my three year old mind just couldn't understand why I wasn't allowed to play jump rope. What else my three year old mind couldn't grasp either was how come I got pants and shirts for my birhtday presents instead of nice dresses or a doll. I couldn't understand at that age, and I thought everybody was just being mean to me.
What I wanted then and still do, is to be treated as the girl I am deep inside. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, yet nobody can or wants to see my soul because they are afraid they just might be able to see this girl living inside of this body. Anyway, that is all I ever wanted out of life, was to be the girl physically like the one that lived inside of this body.
But my mother, auntie Caorline, and everybody was calling me a boy and young man, and I knew, I just knew I wasn't either. So the emotions that I had then were always there, and mother never liked me being or acting like a girl. I never knew why. All I knew is that is what I was and that is how I needed to be.
Auntie Caroline didn't know how to make me feel better, so she just hugged me. "Honey, there are different games for boys and girls. The girls play with dolls and doll buggies, so that when they are mothers, they can care for their babies. Girls wear dresses and skirts, and boys wear pants and shirts. Boys like collecting snakes, turtles, bugs, and anything else dirty they can find. You are a boy, honey, and I am afraid there is nothing we can do about that."
"You mean that I can't be pretty like the girls can?"
"Yes dear, that is exactly what I mean. See honey, you have a hormone in your body called testosterone, and that will help you become strong like a man should be. You will get hair on your chest and face when you get older. I am sorry that you are a boy sweetie, but that is what you are, and you just have to make the best of it.
I just laid on my bed still crying. Auntie Caroline could not console me. "Would you like some cake and ice cream?" I didn't answer and kept crying. "This is your birthday, honey, and you are three years old today. Won't you come out and at least play with your friends. They all came to wish you a happy birthday, and brought you presents." I wouldn't be consoled then, and I did go out in the kitchen to let them sing happy birthday to me. But I was sad that nobody could "see" me. Then I went back to my room, and stayed there all night while my friends were getting messy by getting chocolate cake and ice cream all over themselves.
What did you say? I can't think like a grown up, or maybe even a ten year old, at three years old? Oh! Yes! I certainly can and I did. Auntie Caroline taught me how to write my name cursive, and said that cursive writing was just like printing, except you joined the letters together. She showed me how she wrote my name, and had me try to copy it. It took a while but I did do it, finally. Then she had me write my address. I remember there was a two in it, so I wrote two but only as the number, not the word. She showed me how to write nine sixty two in cursive, and it took me a while. (Author's note: When I was very young I had this penchant for learning, and asking questions. So this part is a little autobiography about me, but at the same time about Sue too.)
Two years later, when I started kindergarten, my friends were there with me. We were all glad that we had the same teacher. I was writing in cursive, when my teacher peeked over my shoulder.
"My, that is very good. Who taught you how to write?"
"My mommy did. She said that writing is very important."
"She is right too. Who's your mommy, sweetie?"
"Caroline, she works at the drug store with Mr. Banks."
"I know Caroline. Well all I can say is, you should be in the first grade instead of kindergarten."
"Mrs. Beecher, ma'am. I want to stay with my friends."
"Honey, what is five plus five?"
I started counting on my fingers. "Ten," I answered with a beaming smile.
"That is correct. You're what they call a prodigy. You pick up on and learn things fast. And being so young too. Your mind is way ahead of your age. I will talk to your mommy about this, and see what she says." I just smiled because I knew auntie Caroline would agree with the teacher and let me skip to the first grade. (Author's note: In real life I called auntie Caroline mother for 5 years.)
I just continued writing, while the others in the class drew pictures and played with the toys from the toy closet. When I was done writing, I went and got a doll and doll buggy from the toy closet. I hugged the doll, and laid her softly in the buggy. Mrs. Beecher came over and asked me why I was playing with a doll and doll buggy.
"Because she is my baby and I am taking her for a walk." Mrs. Beecher just stood there with her finger by her mouth. I had seen grandma Dolly do that from time, and she said it helps her think. I wondered what Mrs. Beecher was thinking.
During our lunch time, we sat in a different part of the cafeteria, and we were all talking. One of the girls came over and asked if she could sit by me. I said yes, and she sat down. She looked at me thoughtfully, like any five year could do. Then she started talking to me.
"You look more like a Susan than you do a Ronnie. I saw how you were taking care of that doll, just like she was a real baby. Would you like me to show you how to draw? My mom's been teaching me."
"Yes, I would really like that."
"Then when we get back to the classroom, we will do a little drawing. You'll like the picture you draw. You can show it your mommy."
I thought that I was the only one who was being taught things before coming to school. But here was Chrissie telling me I looked like a Susan, I had smiled when she said that she wants to teach me how to draw. Kindergarten in the fifties is a full day, so when we went back to class, and we went as a group, Chrissie got out two sheets of drawing paper, and found and empty table. That was because the others were playing with this and that. She helped me draw flowers, and a field with grass too. Then she showed me how to make the buggy. I did my best, and she showed me how to draw the doll's head and arms in the buggy, the arms being outside of the blanket, covering the doll.
When I was done, I showed it to the teacher, and she said that it was good for a first try. She even agreed that I should show it to mom. When the bell rang for the end of class, we all went out to our waiting parents. I saw mom, and showed her the drawing.
"This is very good, Ronnie. Is that one of your friends pushing the buggy."
"No mom, that's me." Chrissie showed me how to draw a little girl with a nice gingham dress that had a nice bow in the back, with nice light brown hair.
"But honey, that is a girl pushing the buggy, and you're not a girl. You're a boy, and boys don't play with dolls or push baby buggies. And boys certainly do not wear dresses, of any kind."
"Why not?"
"Well because that is the way it has always been. boys grow up to be men, and girls grow up to be women. There is nothing we can do to change that."
"Then how come that lady on television changed from being a boy to being a girl?"
"What do you know about her?"
"Nothing really. I just know when she got off the airplane, the reporters were asking her dumb questions about why she did what she did. Mom I am like she is, and being a boy is yucky to me. All of the girls say I should be a girl, because I look like one and act like one. I am a girl in here, mom," I said, pointing to my heart.
"Honey, do you want to know the difference between boys and girls? I will talk to you about it, if you want to know."
"You mean that girls have vaginas, and boys have penises? You mean that the sperm from a man makes a baby inside of the lady. Do you mean that girls have nice long hair, and you are forcing me to get mine cut, because I have a boy's body? Is that the difference between boys and girls you wanted to tell me."
"Mom, you taught me how to reade and write, and my teacher thinks I'm prodi-something or other."
"Prodigy, sweetie."
"Yes, that. But mom, if I can learn to read and write, why can't I be the girl I am in my heart? Why can't I be like the lady who got off of the airplane?"
As we got to the corner, Chrissie came up to us with her mom. "Hi Sue, I am having a sleepover on Friday and Saturday nights, and my mom says you can come, if your mom will let you."
"See even Chrissie calls me Sue. Can I go, mom, please?"
"Well, I don't know." She offered her hand to Chrissie's mom. "Hi, I'm Caroline, Ronnie's aunt actually, but he calls me mom. I think we need to talk about this. Can you come to my place for coffee. I only live a block away?"
"I'm Joan, by the way. Yes, that would nice. Chrissie told me all about Sue. Her legal name, where she lived, and how she played mommy to one of the dolls in the classroom. When she was walking with you from the school, I could see that she walked with her hips instead of with her shoulders like boys do. So I would really be delighted if Sue could come to Chrissie's sleepover. Chrissie suggested it, and she said she told the other girls about Sue and they were the ones who said Sue should come to the sleepover.
"Caroline, I think we need to really talk about Sue, because she is more girl than I have seen in some natural girls. She doesn't exaggerate her movements but does them naturally. When she talks she is so animated, and she talks fast like the girls do too. She has the voice, the movements, and she likes to do the things we do. So, I think she should be allowed to come to the sleepover."
"Well, I want to know if the girls are going to be naked. I mean, it would be improper for Ronnie to see them undressed."
"That is not going to be a problem. Chrissie has a couple of outfits she can wear while she is there. She can even have them, if you will let Chrissie give them to her."
"You keep calling him a her. Why?"
"Because she is not a boy. She may be male, but there is no boy living in that body. If you take her to see this doctor, she will confirm what I say. She is really good with children."
"Okay, I think because of what I just heard, I will take him to see this doctor. Wait just a minute while I make the call." Mom came back about ten minutes later. "She said that she wants to see him this Saturday. When I told her what I wanted Ronnie to see her about, all she said was, 'that's fine, I will see the child on Saturday'. I really didn't know what to think."
"Well, she has a procedure she calls a fishing outing. She takes the prospective "girl" out on a shopping trip, with lunch included, and observes her demeanor. If she finds any sign of a boy, she ends the shopping trip, and takes the child home. But if the child acts and behaves as a girl would, she makes further appointments and prescribes premarin for her development. Caroline, don't worry, Sue is a girl, and I would be proud to have her at my Chrissie's sleepover."
"I am really not in favor of this Joan, but if it is alright with the other girls' parents, then I would have no objection. Is there a way we can meet with everybody, say at one of their houses?"
"Yes, tomorrow. I will make the calls when I get home. See Caroline, Sue has been dressing in Chrissie's clothes for quite a while now. She is nothing but a decent young lady when she is at my house."
"Ronnie, I will see what the other mothers and girls say, before I even think about this. I have never heard of a boy being at a girl's sleepover. It just isn't done."
"Until now, Caroline. We need to have you come to our house tomorrow, so we can talk. Most of the five girls will be there. I think you will find what they have to say, very interesting."
"What time tomorrow. I get off work at six, and we have dinner around seven, then I get ready for the next day."
Why don't you come over for dinner, right after you get off of work? That way we can talk and make an evening out of it."
"Sounds good to me. I will let my mother know I won't be home for dinner tomorrow. Should Ronnie come too?"
"No, just yourself, Caroline. You won't be sorry.
That night after dinner was over, mom was awfully silent. I could see that she was thinking about what Chrissie's mom had told her. So, I said my goodnights, and hugged and kissed her on the cheek, and went to my bedroom. I just listened to records for a bit, and then decided on a nice bubble bath before bed. After my bath, I laid in my bed reading for a bit, and then turned off the lamp, and went to sleep. I could hear mom talking to grandma, because my bedroom was basically next door to the kitchen. I didn't really listen all that much, but it was just that mom wasn't in favor of me going to Chrissie's sleepover. It is funny in a way though, that things that 'just aren't heard of, or done', are starting to. The saying that goes 'there's always a first time for everything', came to mind. I got up, and sorted my clothes for the day. Then I went and got my bubble bath. Lavender today, because I was in a lavender mood. After my bath, I went to my room, and started getting dressed. I was dressed in no time because it didn't take long to throw on a pair of jeans, t-shirt, shirt, undershorts, and shoes and socks.
Mom came in and sat on my bed as I finished tying my shoelaces.
"Honey, we have to talk about this sleepoever thing. Tell me something. Have you ever wished you were a girl?"
"Everyday mom. I know who I am, and I don't like being called a boy or a young man. If that lady that came back from Denmark can be a girl, why can't I? I have always been a girl deep in here," I said, pointing to my heart. "That is all I ever wanted from any one was to be the girl I know I am."
"You know we talked about this. There are things you don't understand about being a girl, that you wouldn't like. Like for instance, girls and women are treated at best as second class citizens. Women get paid less than a man for the same job. Women are subservient to men and have to rely on them for care an support. Women are only sex objects in most men's eyes, and non people in the eyes of the rest.
"If we were to tell our men that we didn't need them or want them, except to have sex, then we would be called names by the men, and very nasty names too, and most of the men, if not all would become very violent, and hurt us. You see Ronnie, that there are more advanatages to being a man, than there are in being a girl growing up to be a woman."
"So, what you are telling me, that even though I am not a boy and never want to be a man, that there is nothing I can do about it. Right?"
"No, honey, you, I am just trying to ... is there anything that I can say that will change your mind?"
"No, mom, there isn't."
"Well, you know your grandpa will not be in favor of this, but grandma seems to understand better than I do. She said she has seen the feminine things that you do, and the way you sit and the table when she is making something. She said you even watch her and ask questions as to why she is doing things. I have even seen you take small bites at dinner time. When you sit and watch television, you don't slump like the boys do, but you sit with your hand folded in your lap, like a girl does. I will see what the other girls have to say about this. But I am not making any promises. I still think it is improper for you to see naked girls, and it is improper for them to see you undressed too. When you see this doctor on Saturday, I will go with you. I only hope that she can get to the bottom of this and make you see that there is nothing you can do to be a girl."
"What if she says it would better if I was allowed to be a girl?"
"Your grandpa would hit the roof, if not go through it. He thinks boys should be boys and grow up to be men. If this lady says you should be allowed to be a girl, then you let grandma and me talk to him. Tell me something. When you said you were going over by Bobby's, did you go by Bobby's?"
"Yes, mom, I went by my girl friend Bobbie. We always have lots of fun."
"So Bobbie is a girl and not Bobby a boy. You little imp, you're as devious as a girl too."
"I had to think of something, and Bobby said he would say I was there, but outside, if you called. Bobbie's mom knew our number though, and you never had to be called. So everything was fine. Bobbie just lives a little ways away from Bobby, so, I would walk to his house, and then over to Bobbie's. Say that five times really fast." I giggled. "But I really want to go over to Chrissie's sleepover. I have been at Bobbie's sleepovers, and it is going to be the same girls at Chrissie's."
"You have been at a girl's sleepover?"
"Yes. When I said I was spending the night or weekend at Bobby's, I was really at Bobbie's. All the same girls from Bobbie's sleepover will be there."
"You mean to tell me, that you have been to a girl's sleepover before?"
"Yes, mom."
"You are a girl, aren't you? Well, we will see what this doctor says. You see her before you have to go for the sleepover anyway. I really don't know what to say. Are you sure you are only five years old?"
I giggled a little, when I said, "yes, mom, I am."
"Uh huh, five years old, going on fifteen." We both giggled, because I knew what that meant. I was happy that she finally saw what I had been talking about. "Well, it is late, and you have school in the morning. Good night, sweetie. I love you."
"Good night, mom. I love you too.
What Mother Didn't Know - Book 2
by Barbara Lynn Terry
Author's Note: Now, here is the 411 on the mother issue. When I was 2 years old, my birth mother took me to Michigan's upper peninsula (U.P.), every summer until I was 5 years old. She left me there with Caroline her best friend, and Caroline's family. I was living there until I was 10, when my birth mother called from Milwaukee, Wisconsin telling me she wanted me home. If you want to know confusion, I was confused. So, until we get to the 10 year old mark, the woman that Sue is calling mother, is actually the woman I came to know as aunt Caroline.
Chapter 3 - Sue the beginning (cont'd.).
The next morning mom woke me up, and made sure I got my bath. She said she had poured in some lavender bubble bath, and it smelled really nice. I took off my pajamas and got in the tub. I just sat there for a few minutes, then washed. I rinsed off, and got out of the tub. I dried off, and then put the towel around me like I had see girls do on television. I went to get dressed. Mom had laid out a green plaid skirt, light green blouse and my under things. Completely dressed, mother did my hair by placing a wig on my head. She moved it around a little, so that it sat perfect on my head. Then she took something and put it on the band of of the wig. She said it was an adhesive, or glue, that held the wig on, because boys like to pull girls hair.
She made me a small breakfast of half a grapefruit, glass of milk, one pancake, and no butter but only a very light dab of syrup. I sat there taking small bites, and enjoying mom's cooking. When I was finished, I took my dishes and put them in the sink. Then she made sure there was no syrup drip on my clothes, and took me to the front hallway where she had a nice girl's coat, that fit me perfectly. Did she get this from Chrissie or from one of the other girls? I didn't know, but I was happy that it was a warm coat. She walked me to school, and when I went in the building, she left.
I put my coat in the cloak room, and went to sit down, smoothing my skirt behind me as I sat.
"Good morning class."
"Good morning, Mrs. Beecher," everybody said together.
"Today class, we are going to do more writing, and I will read from our little story book. I am going to put some words on the blackboard, and I want you to copy them down as best as you can. Don't worry if you don't do good the first time, because that is why we are here, is to learn."
She printed five words on the blackboard, A D A M, R U N, J U M P, R O P E, S C H O O L. She wanted us to print them as she did, with a space between each letter. As we got out our paper from our back packs, and our pencils, she started reading Little Red Riding Hood. I knew this story, because grandma Dolly read it to me many times. It was one of my favorites. I listened as I printed the words on the blackboard, and when she got to the the part where the big bad wolf jumped out at Little Red Riding Hood, Jimmy raised his hand.
"Yes, Jimmy?"
"Does the wolf eat Little Red Riding Hood?"
"Well, Jimmy, you will just have to wait and find out. This is a very nice story, and I want you to listen while you print your words."
"Yes, ma'am," Jimmy said, kind of sad that Mrs. Beecher wouldn't tell him how it ends.
We kept printing our words, but I decided to write some of them in cursive. When she got to the end of the story, I had my whole paper filled with the words, printing and in cursive. Jimmy raised his hand, again.
"Mrs. Beecher, that's silly. How can you cut open a wolf a rescue something or someone he has eaten?"
"Well, Jimmy, do you believe in magic?"
"Yes, ma'am." I guess we all did at five years old.
"Then, that is what happened. See Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother were very good souls, so when the woodcutter came along and looked in on the grandmother, he saw the wolf and knew what he had done. So without a moment to lose, he cut open the wolf, and saved Little Red Riding Hood and the grandmother. The wolf was never seen again. This story I just read is by a French author named Charles Perrault, and he first had it published in 1697 in his Contes De ma Mere L'Oye and he named it Le Petit Chaperone Rouge. The Brothers Grimm also did a nice version of this too."
"Thank you, Mrs. Beecher."
"You are very welcome, Jimmy." Just then the bell rang for lunch. "Alright class, line up so we can go to lunch."
We all got to the cafeteria and I saw another girl with Bobbie. I went to sit by them, and we started talking. The other girl said her name was Cindy, and she wanted to be my friend. I said that would be alright, because I like making friends. So, for the rest of the lunch hour, during recess, we talked, and talked, and we found out things about each other. I found out that Cindy's father had just graduated from law school, and was a lawyer. I knew about lawyers because I liked watching Perry Mason.
When the bell rang for us to go back to class, Bobbie, Cindy and I stood in line together. When we got in the classroom, I saw that Cindy was sitting a few tables away from me. I raised my hand.
"Yes, Miss Kelly?"
"Is it alright if Cindy Marks sits by me and Bobbie?"
"Bobbie and I, and yes, I don't see that that's a problem. Cynthia, you may move over by Bobbie and Ronnie. That is a nice dress, by the way, Ronnie."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Ronnie, tell me something. Are you a boy or a girl?"
"I'm not sure. I guess, by what my mommy and grandma say, I am a boy. But everybody else tells me I am a cute girl."
"I see. Well, you make a lovely girl, and you are pretty in that dress."
"Thank you, ma'am."
No one laughed or said anything else. Mrs. Beecher went on to tell us how important it was that we remember our addresses and phone numbers, just in case we needed to tell someone if we got lost or in an accident. She told us to ask our parents to teach us our addresses and phone numbers. Then she asked me to go to the blackboard and write what is one plus one, and so forth until I got to five plus five. I did that, and she stood there watching me. When I was finished, she said I could go back to my seat.
"Class, does everybody see what Ronnie put on the black board? I want you all to copy this down, and do it ten times, and tomorrow we will go over it again." Jimmy raised his hand. "Yes, Jimmy?"
"How many times is ten?"
"How many fingers do you have?" He counted them and got stuck between six an eight.
"Jimmy, watch Ronnie. Ronnie, please stand and show the class how many fingers we all have on both hands, and count out loud, please." So I did, and I went slow like grandma Dolly had shown me. "So you see, Jimmy, that we have ten fingers, five on each hand. So, I want you to copy what is on the blackboard ten times, and I want you to study what is there too, even if you have to count on your fingers. Does everybody understand me?"
We all said yes ma'am, together. Then Mrs. Beecher left us to do our work, and walked around the classroom, making sure we were doing our work and not talking. When she got to our table, she remarked again how impressed she was with what I knew. She even said she wanted to talk to me after school, for a few minutes. After she left to go to her desk, I whispered to Cindy and Bobbie that I wanted them to wait with me. They said they would. The bell finally rang for the end of the day. Everybody put all their papers and story book in their back packs, and lined to leave. Bobbie, Cindy and I waited behind.
"Cindy and Bobbie you may leave."
"We're waiting for Sue."
"Sue?"
"Yes, ma'am. Everybody calls her," she said, pointing to me, "Sue."
"I see." Then we heard someone clearing their throat. It was mom.
"Are you coming, Sue?"
"Mrs. Beecher wants to talk to me."
"Oh, what about, Mrs. Beecher?"
"Are you aware that Ron, erm Sue, is a very pretty young lady? Yesterday when she was in my class, I could have sworn she was a boy."
"Yesterday is worlds away from now, Mrs. Beecher. Things happened overnight that seemed as magical then as they do now. Yes, I am aware that Sue is a pretty young lady, and she even acts like one too. This weekend Sue is going over to Bobbie's for a sleepover."
"Well, she must be a girl then, because no parent would allow a boy at a girl's sleepover."
"I quite agree, Mrs. Beecher. Will that be all?"
"Yes, that is all. Thank you."
As we got out of the school building, I asked mommy if Bobbie and Cindy could come over. Mommy said it would be alright but that they had to call their parents and tell them where they were and why. Bobbie's real name was Roberta Granger, and she knew her phone number. So did Cindy. They called their parents, and then it wasn't long before they were all at our house. We all sat down and had a nice talk. Mr. Marks, Cindy's father, said that he liked me the moment he had seen me. He said there was something different about me, and now he knew.
Chapter 4 - Dinner.
"Would you all like to stay for dinner?"
"Why, yes, Caroline, that would be wonderful. Saves us from cooking and me from washing the dishes," Mr. Marks had said in a joking manner.
"Good. Now Sue, you be a very gracious hostess, and treat our guests well." We all giggled, except Mr. Marks, he had a soft laugh, not like most men.
"When Cindy called me and said she had met a new friend at school, and that she was by her house, I was ready to tell her it isn't good to go to strange people's houses. But when we got here, I saw that Caroline is your mother, Sue, then I knew I had nothing to worry about. Everybody in town knows Caroline, because she helps deliver medicine to those that can't get out. Mr. Banks at the drug store said your mother is his right hand 'man'."
"But, mother isn't a man."
"No sweetie, that is just an expression, older than time itself."
"How old is time?"
"Well, Sue, I...I don't...really...know. Nobody does, I guess."
"Gown ups have silly sayings."
All the grown ups just laughed, and then I got a hug from Bobbie's mom. "You are a dear, sweet child. Never lose that innocence, girl, because it is the only thing that keeps us sane."
"Here, here," Mr. Marks had said, in a very happy tone.
"Does anybody want coffee, tea, milk, cocoa, pop?"
"What kind of pop do you have, young lady?"
"We have the best the stores can sell. Dr. Pepper."
"Well, young lady, Dr. Pepper it is then."
(Author's note: For more information about when Dr. Pepper was first served in the United States, please go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dr_Pepper. This explains a lot about the person who created it.)
I went to get the pop, and came back with seven bottles of Dr. Pepper and seven glasses, just in case they wanted theirs in a glass. I was being the 'gracious hostess' as mom had said to be. I sat down, and was ready to pour mine, but Mr. Marks got up and did that for me.
"There you go, Sue."
"Thank you, sir."
"Oh, you can call me Mister, or you can call me Marks, or you can call me MM, but you dasn't has to call me sir." We all laughed because Mr. Marks was being so funny.
"That's funny, Mr. Marks."
"Thank you, young lady, I will be here all week. That's a saying in show business. But you know, I think you make a very pretty young lady also."
"Cindy says that you're a lawyer like Perry Mason."
'Well I'm nothing like Perry Mason, or even Clarence Darrow whom Perry Mason is based on. But who knows, I am just starting out, really, so we will see what the years ahead bring."
"Do you help all kinds of people in court?"
"Yes, Susie, I do. I represent people who are not so good, but deserve a lawyer anyway. I represent people who are hurt by others in many ways. I also help big companies known as corporations to settle their arguments. So, see, I represent and help a lot of different people. I hope, young lady, that you may never need my services, unless of course it is to read your will when you die. But, that is a long, long way away yet."
"Mr. Marks, can I come over and play with Cindy, sometimes?"
"Yes, young lady, you certainly may."
"Mr. Marks, do you have a first name?"
"Yes, when I was born my parents thought they were being funny, and actually gave me the name of Mister. Mister is my first name."
I giggled. "That's funny, Mr. Marks."
"I agree, Susie."
"Mom, may we go to my room, please?"
"Yes, dear, you girls go and have fun."
We went to my room, and we closed the door. Our music was like poison to our parents ears. They might evaporate if they keep hearing it. We danced to the music, then we decided to paint each other's nails. Bobbie painted mine a nice light pink, I painted Cindy's the same color, and Bobbie said we could be triplets, so Cindy and I did Bobbie"s nails. When they were dry we decided we were going to show our nails to our parents. So, we went out in the living room, and we all just gathered around.
"Mom, Bobbie, Cindy and I decided to paint our nails all the same color, and now we're triplets."
"Oh! Heaven forbid." The adults laughed and we wondered what was so funny.
We got hugs from the adults and they said that was a cute idea but it is a good thing we all lived in different houses. I had to think about that for a while, so we went back to my room and listened to more music. We decided that we were bored just being in the house, and the back yard was full of snow. So we asked if we could go to the playground. The playground was just down the street and around the corner a little. We go our coats, and started out the door, when we were called back.
"And just where do you think you are going, without your snowsuits on?"
"I didn't bring mine and Cindy didn't either."
"Mom, can't we just go in our coats? Pleeeeeeeaaaaaassssssse!"
"Absolutely not. It is below zero outside and you could catch your deaths. Now, I am sure that you can loan your friends a snowsuit for now."
"Yes, mother. Then can we go to the playground?"
"Yes, you may, but just remember there aren't any swings, and the merry-go-round has been taken in for the winter. The only thing there are the monkey bars, and those are mainly for the boys, because boys are monkeys anyway."
"Hey! I represent that remark." We all giggled at Mr. Marks. Daddy was very silent tonight, and I was wondering if he was alright. I will have to ask mom about it tonight.
Bobbie, Cindy and I went to the playground, and we had a snowball fight, and made a snowman which three boys came and knocked down. So we built it again, and this time they came over calling me names.
"Hey look, little Ronnie is playing with the girls. Isn't that cute?"
Donny Estabrook was in the sixth grade, and thought he was the toughest kid in school. He had been suspended several times for fighting during school. I looked over at Donny and told him off.
"Listen Donald," He doesn't like to be called Donald. "I will play with whomever I wish. You are on the school playground, and..." I was interrupted by Mr. Marks.
"Cindy, we have to get inside now. Sue, your mother says to come home."
"You're are so lucky, Donald."
So, we left the boys standing there, and I could see the angry looks on Donny's face. Tomorrow he will have a little explaining to do. When we got home, mom said dinner would be ready shortly, so we had better get out of our snowsuits and wash up. It took us all afternoon to play at the playground, and Donny and his friends didn't spoil it...this time.
After we washed up and got to the dining room, Daddy was about to say grace, when he looked at me with a sad look. Then he said grace.
"Dear Lord, thank you for the bounty you have put before us, and please help me to deal with accepting Susan as she is." I didn't know what he meant by that, but he was asking for help.
Daddy didn't say much at dinner, but he kept looking at me, and then he would shake his head and say something we couldn't hear. I was thinking that maybe daddy was having trouble understanding me, and in my five year old mind, meant that I thought he didn't love me. I will have to ask mom.
When dinner was over, we were told to go to my room and do what we wanted until it was time for Bobbie and Cindy to go. But we just sat in the kitchen while mom did the dishes.
"Mom, what's wrong with daddy?"
"What do you mean, Sue?"
"Well, he looks at me, and then he shakes his head, and when he said grace he said he needed help to accept me for who I am. Does he love me, or doesn't he?"
"Honey, it isn't that simple. Daddy's a man, and men have a hard time understanding why a boy would want to be a girl. It is just his way. I'm sure he loves you very much."
"Then how come he doesn't talk to me, like he used to?"
"Because men are, how shall I say this? Men are, well, men. They think that cussing, swearing, fighting, full contact sports like football or soccer is the manly thing to do. But, they also like baseball, basketball, motor car racing. So, when they see someone who has a male body who is all of a sudden living and acting as a girl, well, they really don't know how to handle that."
"So, daddy thinks I should like the same things he does?"
"Yes."
"He would look very silly in a dress." We all giggled.
"Yes, dear, he certainly would. Now go and play and everything will be alright." She gave me a hug and we went to my room.