I Am Not Alone - - Copyright 1999 by Ellen Hayes or Samantha Michelle

	This is a not - so - short piece of fan fiction based on Ellen 
Hayes wonderful (incredible?) Tuck series.  Unlike most of Ellen's other 
works, it is finally finished.  <g>

[Editor's note: Oh, you want an ending?  How about a Seventies-style
nihilistic one, where everyone dies horribly?  Thought not.
And you only THINK you're finished.  I thought that myself, once...]

	I have compiled all of my changes to earlier posts into this one 
version.

This is also my first attempt at TG fiction, so all constructive 
comments are welcome.  Please e-mail to me: sam@pobox.alaska.net

	Finally, this is a piece of adult fiction.  If you are underage, or 
if you find it offensive, please go elsewhere.  Quickly.


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I Am Not Alone.

Tucker Fanfic

0230 24 August
I stared at the computer through bleary eyes, absent-mindedly rubbing my 
ever-more-sensitive nipples.  It had been a long summer, and I knew I 
needed to finish researching my condition, or at least what the doctor 
said was changing me.  I glanced at the clock.  I  still had a little 
time before I needed to sleep.

Logging onto the net, I started a universal search for references, and 
shortly had the expected listing of medical stuff that was already old 
news.  There were even several mass-market articles.  What finally 
caught my eye was a pointer to a very recent thesis on my, and several 
apparently similar, conditions.  I told  Barsoom to find and download 
the thesis.  Wobbling towards my bed, I was asleep before I hit the 
mattress.

0200 25 Aug.  
I lay awake sweating, wondering if there was a cure for nightmares.  
Remembering last night's research, I dragged himself over to Barsoom and 
pulled up the results.  One sentence from the abstract wrenched my 
attention to the screen.  

"This research focused primarily on the extremely rare genetic 
predisposition to the development of intersexual traits throughout the 
lineage of selected families of British or Northern European decent."  

"Genetic", I muttered, momentarily slipping into Valerie's voice.  I  
shook my head.  It was getting harder and harder to remember who, or 
what, I was.  And I knew one slip could get me killed.  I shuddered, but 
continued to read.

0345 25 Aug  
Pulling on some clothing, I headed for the refrigerator and some 
caffeine, sealing the cave as I left.  The researcher had described my 
problem almost exactly; it was one of several in their study.  And if 
the research was accurate, it meant that the changes would progress  
until I looked like a copy of my sister.  It also meant that Mom and Dad 
had to carry the gene that caused my condition.

The last part just didn't make sense.  I had never heard of any 
relatives with a similar problem.  I was pretty sure Mom and Dad would 
have mentioned them once they knew I was changing.  I felt the sugar and 
caffeine began to kick in, and became aware that there was someone else 
awake.  Shortly thereafter Susan dragged herself into the kitchen and 
reached an unsteady hand towards my coke.  

"Have a good date last night" I quipped, noting with a twinge the 
increasing resemblance between us.  Susan shook her head to clear the 
cobwebs and tried to give me the evil eye, but quickly closed her 
bloodshot orbs against the light.  

"Men, especially college age lotharios, are Pigs" she said in a 
disgusted voice.  "Two drinks and he had more hands than a bridge 
tournament.  I've got to find some jerk repellent."  Thinking of my 
experiences as Valerie, I mumbled in agreement.  Susan continued "So 
what are you doing up, or are you getting ready for bed?" 

"Couldn't sleep.  Nightmares." I replied, and she nodded.  "And thinking 
about what is wrong with me."  Susan warily eyed me, as I continued "I 
found something yesterday that says my condition is probably 
hereditary."  Susan gave me a blank look, which quickly changed to one 
of alarm..  "What's wrong, afraid I'm contagious?"  

Susan closed her eyes and shook her head.  "Where did you come up with 
that piece of wisdom?" she muttered.  

I explained what I had found in the net, and in the research paper.  
Susan said nothing for a while.  Suddenly she seemed to wake up, 
muttering something about it has to be a coincidence.  That got my 
immediate attention.  

"Do you know of anyone else in the family with the same problem as me?"  
She again shook her head, but I could see she was not telling me 
everything.  And that made me angry.  So I pressed her harder for what 
she knew.  "When you found me at the University you promised me you'd 
help me in any way you could."  I said in an accusatory voice.  "What 
are you afraid to tell me...?"

"Something I ran across years ago that did not make sense.  But back 
then I did not know about your problem, or the hereditary thing."  She 
gave me a funny look. "Were there any mentions of women with, um, er, 
similar problems?" 

I stared at her. "In some families there were both women and men who, 
well, changed.  So what's the connection with our family?" 

"There is nothing I can put a finger on, but you remember when I did 
that genealogy project for my social studies class back in high school?"  
I nodded, as I had crashed her computer twice before she caught on. Dad 
had to pry her off me before she choked me to death.  I was grounded for 
quite a while.  

"I had a hard time explaining the number of adolescents that either died 
without a listed cause, or that disappeared without a trace from the 
records in both Mom and Dad's families.  The teacher accused me of not 
researching far enough, and I had to bring in copies of my references to 
prove that there was no more information available."

I suddenly felt queasy.  "Died without a listed cause?"

Susan gave me a hard look . "Back then, if someone committed suicide it 
was never advertised."  She looked at me with what seemed to be sympathy 
"And most of those that disappeared did so around your age.  Mostly 
young men, but there were a few girls too....."  

"Do you think-" I hesitated, "that they...?" and grabbed the table, as 
the world suddenly seemed a bit too animated.  Susan nodded.  "I don't 
know if they ran away to find a different life, or..., or...," She 
stopped.  "Or killed themselves." I added in a hard voice.  She nodded, 
looking away.  

Susan came over and gave me great big hug, tears pouring down.  "Just 
don't let it happen to you, little brother," she finally added.  Then I 
lost it, and we just stood there in each other's arms for a long time.  
Several Kleenex later we called it a morning, and headed back to our 
bedrooms.

Mike and I were hightailing it out of town, dodging bullets as we tried 
to outrun Preacher Nicholson and deputy McPhearson.  Nicholson was 
ranting that two guys trying to get married in his church was blasphemy.  
I guess cleaning out the collection plates before we left hadn't helped.  
Mike was firing an occasional shot in their direction, but all I could 
do was ride sidesaddle, my corset and long skirt keeping me from 
mounting properly.  I could not even reach the .44 derringer still in my 
garters. Mike yelled, "Got one", and as I raised up to look behind me I 
felt a pain in my side and the breath was jerked from my body....    
Consciousness dawned, and I realized that someone was beating on my 
door.  "Unhhh, what?" I managed.  It was Brian, who kept banging on the 
door and telling me that Debbie was waiting downstairs. Shaking myself 
awake, I told him to say I would be down after a quick shower, and 
dragged my soggy body out of bed.

0900 25 August 
We drove off in Debbie's car, headed for a quiet spot in a park where we 
could be alone.  Despite Debbie's objections I reached over and turned 
off her cell phone and my pager.  "I need to talk to you without 
interruptions," I said quietly, and when she saw my face she gave me her 
concerned, motherly look and quit arguing.   For the moment, anyway.

By the time we parked I realized that my baggy pants and shirt were 
already much too warm, and the day was going to be a scorcher.  Peeling 
off my shirt to cool down, Debbie glanced at my breasts and large, 
swollen nipples, shook her head, and said I would get arrested for 
indecent exposure.  I looked down, shrugged, and unwisely asked if she 
had a better idea.  Five minutes later I was Valerie again, wearing a 
pair of Debbie's nylon exercise shorts and a thin silk top tied just 
below my breasts.  The smooth feel of the silk made my nipples stand out 
even further, and I knew I looked like any other horny teenage girl on a 
date.  Except I was out with my girlfriend.

Realizing I had again referred to myself as a girl, I grabbed Debbie and 
hugged her until the shaking passed.  It was quite a while before I felt 
like talking.  

We spent the morning snuggling, talking, and keeping each other quiet 
company.  I cried a lot when I told her that the research said my body 
would probably change completely to that of a girl, with a couple of 
exceptions, within a few more years. Her constant assurances that she 
would love me no matter what I changed into did not help much.  I had 
the nagging feeling that she liked me more as Valerie.  

1300 25 August
Debbie looked at her watch, shook her head, and told me she had a 
makeover scheduled at 2:30.  I nodded, but did not want to let go.  
Finally, she pried me free. We loaded the blanket and cooler back into 
her Subaru, and when we were ready to leave she asked me what I was 
going to do.  I shrugged.  "I want to find out what happened to some of 
my ancestors.  Maybe there is something they discovered.  But I am NOT 
going to tell my counselor about this".  I paused and thought for a 
moment.  "Or my parents, at least not yet."

Debbie drove me home in silence, my hands holding tightly onto one of 
hers.

I almost hopped out of the car dressed as Valerie.  Debbie caught the 
back of the top as I opened the door, and hauled me back in.  The silk 
was yanked tightly across my nipples and hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.  I 
whimpered as we drove to a quiet place where I pulled my shirt and pants 
over Debbie's clothes.  After Debbie was satisfied that all signs of 
Valerie were hidden, she drove me back home.  

Heading up to the cave, Mom stopped me, and gave be a strange look.  A 
knot formed in my stomach.  "Mom?  Is there something wrong?" I asked in 
the most innocent tone I could manage.  

She looked at me again, saying "I would swear that Debbie stopped by 
here a few minutes ago, with a girl in her car that looked like Susan, 
and then drove off in a hurry." 

"Not a chance, Mom.  We just came back from the park, and it was only 
the two of us."   I made a beeline for the cave.  

After stashing Debbie's clothes, I checked for messages, and found Mike 
had tried to contact me about a back-to-school party.  Still thinking 
about my talk with Debbie, I decided that my holding a one-girl pity 
party was not going to make anything better.  So I booted Barsoom for 
some added research.  

DAMN IT, I cried to myself.  I did it again. I am not a girl.  The 
little voice in the back of my head was muttering, "Not yet". I felt 
like road-kill.  And decided to anesthetize the little bastard in my 
head with another Valium.  

After a few minutes I felt better.  Or at least I did not feel as much.  
Better living through chemistry, I guessed.

It took until dinner to formulate a decent search, using Susan's old 
data, and information from the thesis.  I even added a re-director to 
keep track of the search paths as information was retrieved.  

Dinner was uneventful, although Brian was in a great hurry to go 
somewhere.  So I took as long as possible to work on the dishes, and he 
finally begged me to finish them for him.  I quickly added two IOU's 
from him to my bargaining pile, and he rushed off, probably to meet his 
girlfriend.  Or steal some more panties.  Probably both.  Once 
everything was cleaned up, I headed to the cave to see what Barsoom had 
discovered.  

The results were meager, but significant.  There were three more 
branches of Dad's family that had eluded Susan, and one additional 
branch of Mom's.  Parsing the information into a genealogy program that 
I found, I began to look for clues. Lots of enticing leads, but nothing 
I could get anything from.  I was glad that I had studied statistics as 
a part of pre-calculus.  After more analysis, the results began to make 
sense.

0200 26 Aug
I decided to call it a night.  I was afraid to trust my own data, yet I 
was certain I was right.  I was too tired to think straight, but I was 
fairly certain that something happened to about one in every 40 male and 
one in 100 female offspring on  Dad's side, and to about one in 60 male 
and female offspring on Mom's.  I thought of Amy, and shuddered. But she 
was showing no signs of problems.  Yet.

There were only three occurrences I could find where it was clear the 
two family trees crossed.  And in each these cases there was at least 
one suspicious death or disappearance.  Of a total of ten listed 
offspring, two boys and two girls had died or disappeared in their 
teens.  And I was still here.  

The couples were Mom and Dad, a long-deceased great-great-great-grand-
something not in our branch, and another couple currently living on the 
East Coast with three listed children, the oldest my age.  They were 
direct descendants from the same branches as my parents, back almost 
five generations.  

I thought about the possibilities, and took another Valium.  Life 
without REM sleep was much easier.

Something in my eyes bothered Susan at breakfast the next morning.  She 
cornered me after Mom and Dad left, and told me to spill what I had 
found.  After making sure that there were no incriminating clothes 
visible, I let her into the cave, and brought up my results on Barsoom.  

Susan was lost in thought for a long time.  She looked at me, and in an 
uncharacteristically scared voice, asked "Does this mean that if I have 
children they may, umnh, have the same problem you do?"  

I nodded.  "There is about a three percent chance, based on what I have 
found.  Unless you marry someone who is descended from either lineage, 
then the probability increases to nearly fifty percent.  The same 
applies to Brian."  I added.  "I do not know what happened to the female 
children.  There is exactly no information available to indicate if they 
died, turned male, or whatever."

She looked miserable, and I realized that this had hit her really hard.  
I guessed that it was something about having children, a topic I did not 
remember her ever discussing.  

Susan thought for a while.  Finally she spoke up. "You know we will have 
to tell Mom and Dad about this, because it may affect Brian as he gets 
older, and Brian must know before he considers getting married."  She 
shook her head.  "And we both know Mom and Dad will blame themselves, 
and I don't know how they will handle it."  

I reached over and held her.  "We don't have to tell them immediately, 
and by the time you have children old enough to be affected, they may 
have a cure".  She looked at me like I had said something wrong, and 
burst into tears.  When the sobbing subsided, Susan said she needed to 
go think by herself, and let herself out of the cave.  

I called Mike and asked him to come over.  We sat and played Mortal 
Kombat as I brought him up to speed on my newest findings.  

Mike looked at the wall, and meditated for a while.  I could feel the 
tension where I sat.  "Tuck, you have to contact the family out east and 
let them know what is happening."  I looked at him like he was nuts.  
"It stands to reason that they will have at least one kid with a similar 
problem.  And that someone might die if you do not let them know what is 
happening." 

Mike began another of his "greater wisdom" mumblings, and continued.  
"Maybe it is something I got from my father, curse his over-preaching 
heart, but it wouldn't be fair to put someone else through this. If it 
had not been for Debbie's kink about dressing you as Valerie all the 
time, and the rest of us keeping you afloat, would you have been able to 
handle it?.  Especially if you were a jock instead of a geek?"  I 
winced, knowing exactly what would have happened.

"So I should just call them up, introduce myself as Tucker, their 
distant relative that is undergoing a hereditary sex change, and expect 
them to do anything but call the FBI?  Or the National Enquirer?"  Mike 
looked at me.

"Something like that, but a bit more subtle.  Like seeing if any of the 
kids are on the net, and maybe getting to know them via on-line chat or 
E-mail.  At least until you have a better idea, or you find out there is 
a cure.  But you gotta do something before someone gets hurt or killed."  

"Damn you, Mike, why must I help someone else when I can't even help 
myself?" I ranted. "It's not fair".  

"So who said it had to be fair?"  As he knocked my player across the 
arena.  I hated it when he was right.  

It took only a few minutes to find out that not only were the kids on 
the web, but the oldest, Andrea, a girl my age, was apparently into 
computers.  And she was good looking too, in a butch sort of way.  She 
had her own web page, complete with pointers to many of the same sites I 
frequented.  The other two, her 14 year-old brother, and 12 year-old 
sister had web pages, but their sites were really bland.  Andrea's 
animation of a Xena-the-Warrior-type beheading Barbie dolls was cool.  I 
copied it for Debbie's computer.  

I sent her an E-mail saying I had found she was a relative of mine, 
signed off, and Mike and I moved on to other topics, like what really 
evil things we could come up with to start out the school year.

After Mike headed home for dinner, I decided that I had better get some 
chores done, and headed downstairs.  Dinner was uneventful, and I was 
grateful for the quiet.  After I finished the last of the dishes, I 
headed for the cave.  A quick check showed I had a reply.  

"S'cool that I have a relative that likes computers.  Dad just installed 
an 800# line for his business, and I have access to it after hours.  
Give me a call before 22:00 eastern.  Andi."

The number followed, so I decided to give it a try, being a little 
before ten eastern time.  

"Hello?  A small female voice answered.  "This is Becky, can I help 
you?"

"I'm trying to reach Andrea, Is she home?"

"Sure, just a minute". In the background I heard her yell "Andi, its 
some girl for you".  A moment later she came back on and said that Andi 
would be on in a minute. 

"Hello, this is Andi, can I help you?" a surprisingly deep voice came on 
line. 

"This is Tuck, I received your message, and since it was still early, 
tried your number." I replied in what I hoped was a friendly voice.  
Unfortunately it was also Valerie's voice. 

"So you're a geekette too" was her chuckling reply, in a higher pitched 
voice.  "I never figured that the first relative who was into computers 
would be another girl, 'specially one with a name like "Tuck"."  I 
groaned. 

Deciding that it would be better if I replied as Tucker, I consciously 
lowered my voice, and responded." Actually, Tuck is short for Tucker.  A 
lot of people mistake my voice for a girls" switching to my English 
accent "but I am a man of many voices."  I could hear her breaking up on 
the other end.

"Blimy, ya sound like a lass I know out 'o Liverpool."  She replied in a 
hearty tenor, and started laughing again.  Soon we were chatting, in 
more normal voices,  about computers and impractical jokes - as if we 
were close friends.  



Chapter 2

I was interrupted by a pounding on my door.  Susan's voice was easy to 
understand.  "Mom and Dad want to talk to all of us, like NOW, so get 
downstairs."  So much for a peaceful telephone conversation.

"Looks like the parental units have decided on another "family meeting", 
so I've got to get off the phone for now."

"Don't be a total stranger, I really liked finding a fellow geek that is 
also a relative of mine.  So give me a call tomorrow or later in the 
week.  It doesn't cost you anything."

"Sounds good. Bye" as I flipped off the switch.  Dragging on some 
presentable grunge, I headed downstairs.  Everyone, including Brian and 
Susan, was sitting around the dining table.  It looked like one of those 
"as your parents, we have decided" sermons. I cringed as I sat down 
between Susan and Brian.  

"As your parents, we have decided that it has been too long since we 
have spent some quality time together." My stomach churned.  The last 
time they had tried for some "quality time" Susan had threatened to run 
away, and I almost died of boredom.  Brian was the only one who enjoyed 
the whole affair, probably because he was too young, or too dumb, to 
comprehend how stupid the idea was.

Dad continued. "So when one of my clients offered me free use of their 
time-share condo in Wilmington for ten days over the labor-day weekend, 
your mother and I decided that it was time to take a vacation together."  
I glanced at Susan and her blank expression told me a lot.  

"Wilmington?  Where's Wilmington?" Brian blurted out.

"In Delaware, right near the District of Columbia," was Mom's reply.

"But Debbie, Mike and I have already made plans-" We had, just not any 
plans that we could tell our parents about, "-for the little summer left 
before we start school" I protested. 

"Sound like fun!" interjected Brian.  I wanted to strangle him.  

"Uhm, my school starts just after labor day, so I guess I won't be able 
to come along." Susan was trying, really hard, to sound disappointed.

"Already have that covered," was Dad's reply. "We will fly back in time
for you to drive to the University and still have a day to settle in 
before classes start."  Susan slumped into her chair.  "And Eugene, you 
will have the whole school year to be with your friends." It was looking 
darker by the moment.

"We've even arranged tours of some historical sites, and a trip to 
Washington to see the Capital and Congress," Mom piped in.  I wondered 
if I had an FBI record that would keep me from having to participate.  
And then it struck me.  "Arranged" meant that we were going.  Shit.

"We are leaving tomorrow night for the airport, and I want everyone 
packed and ready to go no later than noon."  Dad was always too 
organized. He looked at me. "Eugene, we are going to a civilized part of 
our nation, so you have to dress properly.  Your mother says that you 
have been gaining weight, so you will need to buy some casual slacks and 
shirts for the trip.  Susan will take you shopping early tomorrow 
morning."  Great. Yuppieville on No-doze, here I come.

"So everyone get a good night's sleep, and look forward to some time 
together as a family."  I wondered if Dad had been spending too much 
time near his monitor, and it had fried his brain.

"Damn damn damn...SHIT damn damn damn," Susan muttered to herself as we 
headed upstairs.  I concurred wholeheartedly.

A quick call to Mike and Dan left me with little more than condolences.  
And the knowledge that I would not be the leader in preparing a welcome-
back prank for the new school year.  Damn damn damn......  Susan was 
right.  SHIT damn damn.  Sleep was long in coming.

Debbie and I were enjoying a warm, private evening when I heard her 
mother shouting "This is the police. Open up or we'll break down the 
door."  My heart pounded as I tried to grab some clothes to dive out the 
window, but the only thing I could find was a silk peignoir as the door 
was knocked from its hinges....  The pounding at my door and "Eugene, we 
need to leave in half an hour", broke into my unconsciousness. 
ARRGGH!!!!

I managed a shower and some clean underwear before dressing and 
staggering to the refrigerator for some caffeine.  "Drink that on the 
way, Eugene, you have shopping to do over at Westcross Mall". I muttered 
acknowledgment to Mom, spying Brian finishing off something that looked 
like food. "You have to take Brian along to get some new shoes, so lets 
hurry."

"Do we have to?" I whined.  "EUGENE!" was Mom's comment.  I thought I 
heard Brian snicker.  I'll kill him if I ever wake up, I decided.

Susan muttered dire things about the upcoming trip as we headed across 
town.  I tried to fall back asleep, but Brian would jab me just as I 
dozed off, and then plead with Susan to keep me from slugging him.  
Torturing a caffeine-deprived person should be against the Geneva 
Convention.  So should younger brothers.

We managed to find a parking place and some food at a local McStarches.  
I was beginning to wake up.  As we headed through the mall, Susan pushed 
me into the local GAP outlet.  Yuppie personified.  We headed for the 
"young men's" section.

"Tuck, what size do you wear?" Susan asked as the salesman approached. 

"A ten ngghh.." I choked it off.  Susan gave me a funny look "Er, I'm 
not sure" I finally managed.  So I wound up having to be measured by 
some reject from a hair-grease factory.  I think I tried on at least a 
dozen pairs of pants.  It was absolutely no fun, as I had spent way too 
much time trying on clothes while out with Debbie and the pack.  
Besides, the scenery in the men's section was awful.  

We finally found that there was nothing, at least at this store, 
designed to fit a guy with a narrow waist, wide hips and a big butt.  I 
thought I was going to get away safely, but when he suggested that we 
try the women's section (he was obviously annoyed that we were not going 
to earn him any commissions), Brian broke out in laughter.  Susan 
silenced him, and gave me a sympathetic look.  I simply shrugged.  It 
was just another boulder in my already rocky life.

Susan quickly ushered us out of the store, and asked me if I was going 
to be all right. "I'll be okay, but let's just go home." was my reply.

She looked at me and shook her head.  "We still have to find you some 
appropriate clothes, or Mom will strangle me."  I started to argue that 
baggies and fatigues were appropriate, but she dragged me to the mall 
directory, and then off towards a new wing they had finished sometime 
during the summer.  We quickly approached a store having a "getting into 
business" sale.  "Banana Republic" was the sign.  I wondered if it was 
an omen.  She told Brian to wait on a bench.  I hoped he would sit on 
some gum.

Once inside, Susan headed me towards the nearest rack of trousers, and 
found me a pair of dressy looking khaki pants that were cut almost like 
combat fatigues.  She seemed intrigued by some of the women's wear, and 
told me to try the pants on while she did some looking for herself.  A 
quick trip to the dressing room confirmed that they fit me in the hips, 
but the waist was still way too big, even after tightening the
draw-tabs. When I went to the mirror to check them out, the sales lady
looked at them, and at me, and told me she had another style that might
fit better.  She quickly returned with an almost identical pair.  When I
tried them on they fit perfectly.  I had a sinking feeling, and checked 
the size.  Misses 10.  Shit.  But they didn't look that much like girls 
pants. Hmm...

Susan asked me to show her what they looked like, so I swallowed and 
inched out.  When she nodded her approval I knew I was sunk.  "Perhaps 
your sister would like to try on one of the matching shirts or jackets" 
was the next thing the sales lady said.  Susan's eyes snapped wide open, 
and she started to say something, then clamped down so hard I think she 
chipped a tooth when I signed at her not to make a scene.  I asked the 
sales lady to excuse us for a moment and, giving Susan a hug, said, 
"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it".

I figured the best thing I could do was to get what I needed and get out 
of there before something else happened.  So I found another pair in 
"my" size, two pairs of shorts, and -- heeding Mom's requirement for 
presentable clothes -- found several matching Egyptian cotton tank tops, 
three safari shirts, and a dressy "outback" jacket that I figured was 
formal enough for anywhere I would be willing to go.  When I checked 
myself in the mirror, the clothes did not make me look like a girl.  But 
they did not make me look like a guy, either. My long hair gave me a 
sort of androgynous "Indiana Jones" look.  I spied an Aussie hat, and 
after trying it, kept it on.  I think Debbie had affected my brain.  
Susan asked if I had shoes to match, and I shook my head.  Bad move.  

The sales lady, with a look that spelled "commissions" almost dragged me 
into the women's shoe section.  As I started to protest, Susan gave me 
that "Do you want to explain it" look.  I shook my head and slumped into 
a chair. The first were a pair of unisex Doc Martin oxfords with a low 
heel that were light, sturdy, and comfortable.  She brought over several 
pairs of matching cotton knee-high socks.  They went with my other 
purchases and felt wonderful on my feet. The second pair of footwear 
caused Susan to gasp.  They looked almost like a pair of Desert Storm 
combat boots, with thick traction soles and a three-plus inch heel.  
Before Susan could object, I put them on and laced them up.  A quick 
trip to the mirror told me what I already knew.  I pulled off the safari 
shirt and studied myself.  Nothing androgynous now, my small breasts and 
erect nipples stood out clearly against the thin tank top. Susan looked 
pale.  I looked really good, for a teenage girl.  Debbie would be proud. 
Even if I wasn't wearing a skirt.  I was so tired of not being 
something, even being a girl was better than being stuck in between.  
What was I saying? My head started to hurt. 

I realized that having some more "Valerie" clothing could be useful.  So 
a quick trip back to the clothing section netted me a short wrap skirt 
in Egyptian cotton, and a full ankle-length soft khaki circle skirt that 
I figured could look almost formal.  Still wearing the skirt, I headed 
back to Susan with a pleading look in my eyes.  "I really could use 
these if Valerie needs to show up."  Susan started to mumble to herself.  
"Besides, I bet I can get a discount --" using my best Debbie imitation, 
"-- if I buy all this at once."  The sales lady was nodding.  

"Mom's gonna kill me." was all I could understand from Susan.  

"I take it that means I can get it all?" Susan was still mumbling to 
herself, but handed the lady Dad's credit card.  

"Tuck, are you sure you know what you're doing?  I know how hard this 
has been for you."  If she only knew how many women's clothes I had 
already purchased, I doubt she would have worried at all. 

"It's okay, really. They mostly don't look like girls stuff and they 
really are comfortable."  They were.  And the skirts would meet Debbie's 
approval, and not come out of my budget.  We almost left the store with 
me wearing the long skirt.  Susan grabbed me and frog-walked me back the 
dressing room where I hastily changed into my original clothes.  After 
brushing my hair back into a "boy" style, we snagged Brian off the 
bench.  At a discount place we stopped for a couple of minutes to get 
him some new socks and shoes. His feet were bigger than mine.  I teased 
him about being a hobbit.  It went right over his head.

We headed home and I was careful to remove all the tags before packing.  
I hid the skirts and boots in the bottom of my luggage.  Remembering 
that Valerie was coming along for the ride, I added hose, underwear, 
jewelry, and makeup to my collection.  I dug through some of the pack's 
castoffs they had stuck me with, and found a latigo leather shoulder-bag 
that would match.  By mid-afternoon we were all packed and ready to go.  
I had included in my suitcase as much of a tool kit as I figured I could 
get through security.  My carry-on had the laptop and a second set of 
emergency supplies.  It also had several Valium hidden along with my 
regular medications.  I took one just before we boarded the airplane.

The trip was uneventful, at least for me.  I slept all the way there.  
Susan managed to wake me enough to help get our bags into a rental car, 
and I really woke up when Dad locked up the brakes avoiding a taxi.  
"Whatta fuck?" was the first thing out of my mouth. 

"Eugene, watch your language!" was Mom's immediate reply.  Dad emitted a 
string of expletives at another driver's antics, and Mom rediverted her 
attention to him.  I had thought the traffic in New York was bad.  By 
the time we reached the condo, Dad was babbling about suicidal idiots, 
and Mom had plugged her ears.  I, on the other hand, had forgotten to 
visit the washroom at the airport, and was in great danger of exploding.  

We were dragging everything to the elevator when Mom saw me bouncing up 
and down like a three-year-old. She made sure I was the first one inside 
when she unlocked the door.  I hit the bathroom running and sat quickly 
to relieve myself.  As I finished, I realized that I had sat to pee.  I 
shrugged mentally. It was easier than remembering what I was wearing. 
When I came out, I found the place was huge, nearly as big as our house.  
Each of us kids got our own room, complete with a television.  Dad had 
calmed down and reminded us that we were scheduled for a tour of the 
capital the next day, and to go to sleep early. 

I was thrilled to find a telephone jack in the bedroom, and after 
everyone else had quieted down, went on-line and checked my e-mail.  The 
usual sludge that my filter had missed, and notes from Dan and Mike and 
George wishing me well.  Mike's comment about avoiding the DOD computers 
was interesting.  I wondered how he knew I was considering a little 
late-night snooping.  Mike also passed on Debbie's "I miss you..." 
message.  I missed her.  A lot. 

The last message was from Andi.  I had left a note for her that I would 
be out of town for several days, and said I was being dragged to 
Delaware for a "family vacation".  Her reply was a real surprise.

"Delaware is not so bad.  I live in Wilmington, so if you get out that 
way give me a call."  It looked like the trip might get interesting 
after all.  She had given me her local number, but it was way too late 
to call her. So I wrote the number down, and stuck it in my wallet.  The 
clock said 0300.  I dozed off clutching a pillow and dreaming of Debbie.

It was far too early for any human to be awake.  At least I tried to 
convince myself of that as I slugged down a coke while Dad drove us to 
where we would catch the bus to the capital.  There is one really 
serious problem when traveling in odd numbers.  Someone gets the odd 
seat.  Usually someone named Tuck.  I wound up several rows behind 
everyone else, and was expecting the usual fat lady with bad breath.  
What I got was a little old grandmotherly type carrying a huge picnic 
basket.  She was also the last person on the bus.

"Miss, could you hold my basket while I get settled in?" She spoke 
quietly, with a slight southern accent.  

"Sure, let me help you" was my automatic reply.  As Valerie.  At least 
the rest of the family was out of hearing range.  I hoped. The basket 
was HEAVY.  I wondered how she could carry it.

"I've taken this trip every year since my last husband passed away," she 
continued, "and it's so nice to sit next to a young woman like yourself.  
I usually get paired up with some lecherous, dried up old fart, who 
wants to play pattycake in tune with his new pacemaker."  Did I say 
grandmotherly?  "My name is Annabelle Murray Throckton, but most call me 
Granniebelle."  I was beginning to get nervous. "Don't be a shy young 
thing.  What do people call you, and what brings you to take the bus to 
Washington today?"  Great, twenty questions.

"Um, my name is Valerie, but my friends call me Val." So far no lies, 
trying to keep it simple. "My Mom and Dad decided we needed a 'family' 
vacation, and since we wound up on the East Coast, they arranged for us 
to go visit the capital."  I think I sounded as unenthusiastic as I 
felt.  She looked at me intently.  Way too intently.

"I take it you did not want to go?"  I nodded.  I felt like she could 
read me like a book.  And I was wondering if she was reading between the 
lines.  I started to get scared.  "When you get to be my age you will 
learn to treasure the time you spent as a child with family and friends.  
You look a mite pale. Did you eat breakfast?" I shook my head.  "Growing 
girls need to eat to stay healthy." And she started to dig into her 
basket.  Why did everyone worry about my weight?

A moment later my nostrils flared, as the wonderful odor of home-fried 
chicken wafted my way.  "I always carry lots of food with me when I go.  
I got into the habit with my grandchildren, and just never seem to 
remember that I can't eat it all."  Visions of someone poisoning pigeons 
in the park suddenly flashed through my eyes.  But it smelled soooo... 
good...  "Would you like a cold drumstick?"  I listened to my stomach 
and nodded, even though a part of my brain was screaming, "Run awaayy." 
She handed me a huge cloth napkin, and then the chicken.  "Don't want 
you to get food on your new outfit." I cautiously took a bite.

Did you ever get that warm fuzzy feeling from eating something so good 
your taste-buds overrode your brain?  "Mmmm..." was all I could manage, 
chewing slowly and savoring every morsel.  

"I take it you approve?" was her chuckling comment.

"Womdeful" was all I could manage with my mouth full. 

"I took first place in the state fair back in '47 with that recipe."  
She smiled.  I believed her.  It was the best fried chicken I had ever 
tasted. "Want something to drink"  I nodded, and she produced a -cold- 
canned iced tea from the depths of the basket.  

Pulling out a plastic trash bag from the basket, she collected my almost 
polished bone, and handed me a piece of apple pie covered in plastic 
wrap.  By now I had decided if she was going to poison me it was one 
heck of a way to go, and I mutely began munching her latest offering.  
Yum....  Much too soon I was finished, and with the hot sun shining on 
our side of the bus, I quickly drifted off to sleep.  Visions of Debbie 
and me dressed in antebellum gowns, dancing the night away at a formal 
ball occupied my mind for the remainder of the trip.  

I awoke to my sister gently shaking me.  Granniebelle was telling her 
what a wonderful young lady her sister was.  Susan finally got the idea 
to call me Valerie, which hastened my return to consciousness.  When 
Granniebelle had headed down the aisle, Susan whispered angrily: "What 
the hell are you doing, Tuck?  Mom and Dad are right here on the bus!"

"I didn't do anything", was my belated reply.  "She sat down and started 
chatting as though I was one of her granddaughters, and fed me this -
wonderful- fried chicken, and a piece of apple pie, and we chatted and I 
fell asleep."  I stretched, and slowly got up, noticing that I still had 
her napkin on my lap.  "So lay off it, already.  Granniebelle is just a 
nice old lady."  I carefully folded the napkin and put in my pocket to 
return it to Granniebelle on the way back.  And maybe get some more of 
that chicken.  

"Granniebelle?  Fried chicken?"  Susan was muttering to herself as I 
collected my stuff and we got off the bus.  Granniebelle was being led 
away by several distinguished looking people to a military staff car, 
and she waved to me as she got in.  I noted the two stars on the bumper 
flag.  Something told me to worry.  But something had never eaten her 
fried chicken.

We spent the rest of the day strolling through the Avenue of the 
Americas and visiting the different monuments to our capitalistic 
success.  Lunch was an overpriced and underwhelming sandwich from one of 
the many street vendors.  I kept thinking of the fried chicken.  Brian 
was so busy looking at everything he did not even bother to annoy me.  
Even Susan seemed to be enjoying herself. And the weather cooperated, 
once Mom had smeared all of us -- including Dad -- with sunblock.  
Hypoallergenic sunblock, at that.

It was going on four in the afternoon when we reached the wall.  I had 
read about the Vietnam war memorial, and we had covered Vietnam in our 
history class.  What I found was not what I expected.  The pictures in 
the books showed grieving families wailing and placing wreaths, to a 
background of anti-war protests.  But today it was more like ordinary 
people paying tribute to old friends.  I wandered along by myself, 
watching and listening to people.  Despite the warm sun I felt the chill 
of sadness.  

I saw a familiar picnic basket, and watched as Granniebelle walked 
slowly up to a section of the wall.  Something made me move closer, and 
I listened while she spoke as much to the wall as herself.

"Tony, it's Annabelle. I know you can hear me.  It's been another year 
and I'm getting closer to joining you wherever you are.  Tony, you know 
that I still miss your warm touch and silly smile.  But I have never 
regretted your decision to fight for what you thought was right.  Or for 
your making me promise that if you did not come back I was to go out and 
live my life to the fullest.  I told you I could not go on without you, 
but you said that if that was to be, then it would hurt you to see me 
grieving my life away.  

And when the chaplain came to our door that day, I knew the worst had 
happened.  But something inside me said that I had to keep going.   And 
you were right.  Life was too precious to throw away.  I know now that 
our friends and the kids kept me together.  I even remarried, as if you 
didn't know, and until Jack died I enjoyed that part of life too.  I bet 
you are still laughing, you horny old goat, about us getting arrested 
for indecent exposure at our ages in the back seat of his sports car. At 
least they didn't bust us before we had finished.  

The kids have done so well.  Robert got another promotion. He now has 
two stars and a beautiful new office in the Pentagon.  He met me and 
gave me a tour this morning.  Annemarie is still single and living with 
her stockbroker girlfriend in Manhattan.  They are planning to start a 
family soon and I have no idea who will be the father.  I guess that 
they love each other very much, and that's all that really matters.  And 
I saved the best for last.  Marybeth gave birth to a strapping young boy 
just a week ago, and both are doing fine.  They named him Antonio after 
you. She and her husband moved to Dallas in May, when he was promoted to 
regional manager.  Annemarie and Marybeth both fly in to visit me every 
couple of months, and I keep busy with my business and charity work.  

Well, I guess that I've spent enough time talking again.  You always 
said I would die with my mouth open.  Remember my love, I'll be joining 
you when my time comes.  But not before."

I stared in silence as she picked up her basket and walked silently 
away.  I swear she was smiling.  I found the nearest bench and curled 
myself into a ball as all the old fears and emotions came flooding back.  
When I started to cry the floodgates opened and the shaking began.  I 
hated myself; all I had to complain about was cosmetic.  I had friends 
and family that cared for me and loved me, regardless of what I looked 
like.  I sat there for a long time with my eyes closed.

"Miss, are you all right?"  The concerned male voice broke through the 
pall I was casting.  "You've been sitting there for so long I thought 
you might be hurt."  I opened my eyes and stared almost eye to eye at a 
bearded guy with a smiling, weathered face.   I jumped back, and banged 
my head against the bench.  "Easy now, I'm not a masher or anything like 
that."  He backed up his wheelchair several feet and watched me with a 
concerned expression.  ?Wheelchair?! entered my consciousness.

"Lance Corporal Michael Thomas at your service." he announced, smiling, 
sitting at attention.  He was wearing faded fatigues and I was just able 
to make out "Thomas" on the nametag.  "I was just saying my weekly hello 
to some old friends-" he motioned at the wall "-and I saw you sitting 
there and crying."  

I felt even smaller, and tried to curl back into my shell.  

"Hey, don't let me scare you.  It's getting late and you really should 
not stay out here after dark."

A light bulb popped into my head.  LATE! I mumbled to myself in panic, 
"Oh, no noooo..." as I glanced at my watch.  The bus was due to leave in 
30 minutes, and I did not even know how to get back to the bus stop.  I 
was sure my parents were already frantic and probably had the police out 
looking for me.  "I've got to get back tocatch a bus with my parents..." 
I jumped up and looked around, but there was no clue as to where the bus 
stop was.  "Is there a directory around here somewhere?"

"I don't remember seeing one, but maybe my partner, Nickie, knows."  He 
took a deep breath and hollered, "Nickie!"  A moment later one of the 
biggest women I had ever seen came running up.  A quick glance said 
"Hard Core Biker", between the tattoos and worn leathers.  

"What do you need, Mike?" She glanced at me, grinning. "Surely this cute 
little lady here is not giving you any trouble."  The voice was anything 
but feminine.  A light dawned, dimly.

"She seems to have gotten lost and needs to get back to the tour bus 
area really fast. What is the best route?"  Nickie looked thoughtful.  

"I hope she's not in a hurry.  It's about two miles from here.  Unless 
she has wings."

"Two miles?!" I sat back down with my head in my hands. "I'll never make 
it in time."  I knew I was really in trouble now.  

"Relax a minute." was all that Nickie said.  I saw her trot off to the 
other side of the wall.  A minute later several marines in full dress 
uniform appeared, followed by an oversize golf-cart like vehicle.  

Mike grinned at me. "The Marines to the rescue," he joked as they formed 
up in front of me.  "The young lady here needs to get to the bus loading 
area to meet her family.  Will you accept this mission?" Mike was almost 
ready to fall out of his wheelchair, he was trying so hard not to laugh.  

"The Marines never fail!" was the reply from the one who seemed to be 
their leader.  A moment later one of them picked me up like I was a 
little kid and seated me in their weird conveyance. Singing the Marine 
hymn, they hopped on board and we zoomed off.  I wondered where I had 
good karma hidden away.  Or if they were on furlough from a local mental 
hospital.

In less than twenty minutes we pulled up to the loading area, and I was 
formally deposited on my feet.  "It's been our pleasure, ma'am," was all 
they said, as they drove off laughing.  I saw Susan running towards me.  
I smiled and waived goodbye, then started toward her.  

"Mom and Dad have been looking everywhere for you.  Where have you 
been?" were the angry first words out of her mouth.  Then she saw the 
tear-streaks on my cheeks.  "Tuck, are you all right?" 

"Yeah, I guess I am." I looked at the departing marines.  "But I never 
expected the Marines to come to my rescue."  Her look was priceless.  
"Let's get back to the bus."  We quickly walked over to where Mom and 
Dad were standing, staring at us both.

Mom started to say something, but Susan intercepted her. "Va... ur, Tuck 
will talk about it later, right?" Mom glanced at me, and I nodded.  

Dad wanted me to sit with them, but I pleaded that I needed privacy to 
think, and they finally agreed to let me sit where I was before.  
Brian's "Darn, I hoped you wouldn't make it back" got him hauled to the 
front.  I hoped whatever they were planning for him was painful.  

Just before the bus was due to leave, Granniebelle and her basket got 
on, and soon she was sitting next to me.  I guess my expression said "I 
need space" so she quietly watched me as we pulled out into traffic.  I 
thought life had been strange before.  Now it was getting downright 
weird.

As we pulled out onto the beltway I guess the suspense got to her, and 
Granniebelle spoke up.  "You must have had an interesting day, child," 
she began. "What in heaven's name did you do to get a Marine escort?"  I 
gave her my best 'you don't want to know' look, but that did not deter 
her in the slightest.

Everything came flooding back at once.  I drew myself into a tight 
little ball in the seat and started to sob.  When she put her arm around 
me, the shakes started and it took quite a while before I was able to 
regain control.  "There now, child, tell Granniebelle all about it.  It 
doesn't help to keep everything bottled up inside." I don't know why, 
but I trusted her.  And I really needed to let some of it out.

"I was, uh, at the Vietnam memorial when I saw you, and I, um, couldn't 
help but hear you talking to the wall, and, uh, well, what you said made 
me realize how pitiful my problems really are and..." I stammered and 
stuttered and started to shake again. "and I sat down and cried for a 
long time, and then this guy in a wheelchair asked if I needed help, and 
it was late and I was going to miss the bus and his friend found some 
Marines and they gave me a ride back..."  I looked at her with tear-
filled eyes.

She looked like she was in pain.  Which scared me because it was my own 
fault that I had listened to her at the wall, and I did not want my 
problems to cause anyone else trouble.  So I closed my eyes and started 
to cry again.  "Now, now, child, what could be so bad about the life of 
a pretty young lady like yourself that the ramblings of an old woman 
like me could make you so unhappy?"  

I looked at her through my tears.  And tried to say something, but it 
just wouldn't come out.  I gestured at my body with my hands, and tried 
again to form a tight little ball.  When I finally unfolded again, she 
was looking at me intently.  "Are you pregnant, and afraid to tell your 
parents?" was the first thing out of her mouth.  I think my eyebrows hit 
suborbital velocity as my eyes snapped wide open.  

"P. pu' pr. Pregnant?" came out like popcorn.  And the absurdity of the 
situation finally got through my consciousness.  And I started to laugh, 
and then could not stop, and I was getting way too much oxygen... Her 
look of surprise was priceless.

When I was able to speak, I was still giggling. "No, I'm definitely not 
pregnant, no possible way am I pregnant." I paused, and started laughing 
again. 

I finally calmed down enough to regain some of my composure.  "I'm 
sorry, Granniebelle, but the image of my being pregnant and my 
girlfriend having to explain how she knocked me up to her mother were 
just too hilarious for words..." and then it hit me. What was I saying?  
The sudden frightened look on my face must have worried her.  

"Girlfriend?" She raised her eyebrows. 

"I'm not gay" came out of my mouth.  And then I bit my tongue.  Hard.  
Granniebelle was staring at me intently. "Uh-oh," said the little voice 
in the back of my head.  

Granniebelle continued to look me over very carefully.  I blushed 
crimson. She began "I may be getting old, and some people think I'm a 
bit batty, but you just contradicted yourself."  I started to curl back 
up into a ball.  

"Oh no you don't, sit right back up!" Granniebelle spoke sharply to me 
for the first time.  I obeyed like a scared recruit.  "I like a good 
mystery, so sit there quietly and let me think."  I nodded, but visions 
of more marines -- this time coming to haul me off for interrogation -- 
began waging a terror campaign in my stomach.  "Stomach ache?" 
Granniebelle spoke up.  I nodded with a very scared look.  She reached 
into her basket and pulled out another piece of pie. "You really should 
not eat that awful stuff they serve around the capital.  It's worse than 
the politics, and less digestable."  I took the pie and began nibbling 
it.  It felt way too much like a last meal.

As I finished the pie, I watched Granniebelle's face.  She would nod, 
then shake her head, then get a quizzical expression, then repeat.  I 
considered making a break for the front of the bus.  But I was in the 
window seat, and the bus was on the expressway.  Becoming roadkill would 
be quick, but unpleasant.  Bad Idea.  

Granniebelle suddenly looked me straight in the eyes "Have you been 
lying to me?" was her sharply intoned question.  I shook my head, 
thought for a minute, and said "No."  She looked thoughtful, and resumed 
her nod, shake and quiz thought pattern.  A glimmer of hope popped up.  
Maybe she won't be able to figure it out, and I don't have to confirm or 
deny anything.  I felt like a POW.

"How old are you? And no lies!" 

"Sixteen." Nothing wrong with that question.

"Which means that you have a driver's license?"  I nodded.

"Which you are carrying in a wallet in your hip pocket, rather than in a 
purse..." she let her comment trail off as she watched my expression 
deteriorate.  I finally covered my face with my hands and began, again, 
to cry.  

"Which means one of three things." She spoke softly to me, handing be a 
large wad of Kleenex. "Either you were lying about not being gay, you 
are a girl who dresses like a boy, or you are not a girl."  I was 
shaking too hard to blow my nose.  Visions of the Salem witch trials 
made a wide-screen Technicolor debut behind my eyelids.  "And I just 
realized that you never said you were a girl, and you never denied it, 
because I never asked."

I started to panic, which triggered a really nasty coughing fit, and I 
quickly forgot about anything other than attempting to breathe.  By the 
time I finally got it under control, Susan had gotten up and was back at 
my seat, and I could see Mom and Dad staring me with alarmed looks.  
"Tuck, are you going to be OK?" were the first words out of her mouth.  

Then she looked at Granniebelle in horror as my seatmate repeated, 
"Tuck?"  

"Oh, shit shit shit, I'm sorry Tuck, er, Tuckerlie" followed as she 
realized that I was supposed to be Valerie, and she slapped her hand 
over her mouth, staring at me wild-eyed.

"Tu tu tu tuckerlie?" I stuttered quietly as I looked at the expressions 
of Susan's and Granniebelle's faces.  Then the absurdity of the whole 
situation crashed my emotional CPU, and I started to laugh and cough at 
the same time.  I almost choked  before they both managed to get me to 
sit still and control my breathing.  

"Young lady, your -sister-" Granniebelle spoke up "should be fine now.  
I think she just needs to sit quietly for a little while."  Susan looked 
at me to see if I needed help, but the laughter, and lack of air had 
taken the panic out, and I nodded shakily.  

"I'll tell Mom and Dad you inhaled a bug or something, and that you'll 
be okay," Susan replied, watching my face.  

"Please, don't tell Mom and Dad what they don't want to know." was my 
parting comment -- backed by a pleading look.  Susan nodded and, shaking 
her head, went back to her seat.  I saw Granniebelle rummaging through 
her basket, and I was soon sipping slowly on another cold iced tea.  
Life had gone from complicated to chaotic at warp seven.  'Beam me up, 
Scottie' I thought furiously, and started to giggle.  

"Feeling better?"  I looked at Granniebelle and nodded.  I knew it was 
truth or consequences time, and I had the feeling that I did not want 
the booby prize. 

"I take it your actual name is Tuck, which is probably short for Tucker" 

I shook my head.  "My friends call me Tuck, but my real name is Eugene, 
which I hate".  She nodded.

"Should I call you Tuck or Valerie?"

I looked at my lap.  "I guess Valerie, since that's how you know me." I 
paused. "But if my parents are nearby, calling me Tuck will save me a 
lot of embarrassing questions."

"They don't know you want to be a girl?" 

I shook my head. "I don't want to be a girl, I just can't stop it."  Her 
expression told me to continue before she asked more questions.  My 
watch told me I had way too much time before we got back to Wilmington.  

"After the contest, when Debbie kept dressing me as Valerie, I found 
myself fitting in, you know, and it was weird but nice. ...  Then, when 
I found out that I have a medical problem that is giving me a girl's 
figure, I ran away, but when I didn't kill myself-" I paused, "-like you 
didn't when your husband died in Vietnam, and the changes really became 
obvious -" I gestured a stylized hourglass, "-it just got easier and 
easier...."  "And since my girlfriend really likes me as Valerie, and it 
lets us get together more often..." Her eyes got really wide as I 
described Debbie's Mom, and she started to giggle like a teenager.

I pulled a comb out of my pocket and worked my hair forward.  "Instant 
Valerie."  I combed it back and to the sides. "Presto, Tuck returns."

"And your parents have not figured out you are spending so much time as 
Valerie?"  

"I think they don't want to think about it, so they overlook things that 
would give me away."  I looked at my hands. "Besides, if I keep growing 
the way I have been-"  I pointed to my chest and hips "-I probably won't 
have any choice soon."  I looked away.  I had been denying this for too 
long.  Life was unfair.  I started to sniffle again.  Granniebelle 
hugged me and I sat quietly trembling until the feeling passed.  

We were pulling into the bus parking area when Granniebelle spoke up. 
"Valerie, or Tuck, your 'secret' is safe with me.  Lord knows you have 
enough on your mind without worrying about some gossipy old lady."  She 
looked thoughtful.  Reaching into her basket (again) she pulled out a 
purse, then a notepad, and finally a pen.  She scribbled briefly on the 
notepad, and pulled a business card out of her purse.  "Give me a call 
if you can get free for a few hours.  I want to give you something, but 
I'll need your help for a little while." She put the card and note in my 
hand. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation."  

Vacation?  I felt more like an heretic invited to the inquisition. I 
wondered if this was divine retribution for our April Fool's prank.  
Nah, not a chance.  Nickerson had to be working for the other side.  

Susan sat between Brian and me on the way home.  I snuggled up against 
her as soon as we were underway, and quickly fell asleep.  Stress is 
like that.  Susan woke me and helped me get into the condo, and pulled 
my shoes off before tucking me into my bed.  I think I was awake for a 
few more seconds.  

I awoke to Mom holding a piece of sushi under my nose and rubbing my 
forehead.  "Mmmhh... dinner?"  Mom nodded, and quietly left the room.  I 
remembered to comb my hair back, and staggered to the table.  One 
California roll and a bit of wasabi later I was fully awake and chowing 
down.  Wherever Dad had managed to find Japanese delivery, it was really 
good.

"So what happened to make you almost miss the bus, and cause your mother 
and me to lose another year off our lives in worry?"  I almost inhaled a 
rice ball when Dad spoke up.  After choking for a minute until a blow on 
my back from Susan dislodged the offending lump, I closed my eyes and 
thought.

I realized the answer was easy.  "Remember, we were together until we 
reached the Vietnam war memorial?"  Dad nodded.  "Well I sat quietly and 
watched the people there, and I overheard several people, and, well, the 
emotions got to me and I, well, got kinda overloaded..."  I looked at 
Susan who was nodding. "So I sat there and cried, and these marines 
found me and asked if I needed help, and they gave me a ride back to the 
bus area."  No lies, not even stretching the truth.  Much.

"And on the bus some if it just came back and kinda overwhelmed me, but 
I'm OK now."  I really was.  At least for the moment.  Susan was nodding 
her head in agreement, and my answer seemed to be what Mom and Dad 
wanted to hear.  

"So what's the big deal about a bunch of dead soldiers?" Brian popped 
up.  I started to say something, but Dad grabbed him and hauled him back 
to his bedroom.  The screeching sounds were music to my ears.  Even 
Susan seemed to be enjoying them.  Dad came back to join us for the rest 
of dinner.  Brian was nowhere to be seen.  Ahhhh!.

After dinner I went quietly back to my room.  As I undressed, I found 
the note and card Granniebelle had given me just before we got off the 
bus.  I decided to look at them tomorrow.  I rubbed some Mary Kay 
moisturizer that Debbie had given me onto my breasts.  God, I missed 
her.  God, that felt so good.  I fell asleep wishing it was Debbie doing 
the rubbing.


Chapter 3

Debbie and I were at Gettysburg treating wounded Union soldiers.  We 
knew the makeshift hospital was within reach of the confederate guns,  
but hoped they would respect the injured.  We heard the whistling of an 
incoming shell, and I grabbed Debbie just before the blast threw us 
across the room.

I fell on the floor wrapped around a pillow.  Shaking.  Another 
tremendous flash and boom outside the window etched "thunderstorm" into 
my consciousness.  Prying myself loose from the pillow I found my 
undershorts and staggered to the window.  Sheets of rain were pounding 
on the glass, and another flash left zigzags burned into my retinas.  So 
much for outdoor activities.  At least I hoped so.  

My mouth felt like I had been chewing on an old sock, so a Coke seemed 
to be a Good Idea.  I wobbled my way through the unfamiliar condo 
towards the kitchen, where I found Susan snacking on leftovers.  
"Lightning wake you up too?" she asked, looking me over carefully.

I nodded and extracted a canned Coke and more sushi from the fridge.  

"You're growing again." Was her next comment.  ?growing?  Speeding up my 
mental processes, I looked down at my chest, which was not covered by 
the shirt I had forgotten to put on.  Except for the really hard 
nipples, everything looked normal. Normal for me, that is.  "Have Mom 
and Dad seen how much they've grown over the past month?"

I shook my head.  I had made it a point to wear concealing clothing, and 
except for swimming as Valerie at the Parkers' pool, much exposure to 
the sun.  "They can tell that there are changes, especially in my butt-" 
I hated the obvious gain of several inches in my gluteal circumference, 
which was beginning to feel like a pillow "-but I don't advertise what 
they don't want to know."  She nodded.

I went to find more clothes, and returned wearing one of my old oversize 
T shirts and a pair of my new shorts.  Fashion conscious?  Me?  Not at 
this time of morning.

As I finished the first coke I guess she figured I was approaching 
awareness.  "Tuck, I know your girlfriend likes you like this, and your 
other friends don't seem to care if you are Tuck or Valerie, but what 
about the rest of the kids at school this fall?"  I shrugged.  I 
intentionally had not thought about it. "Especially in gym class."  I 
smiled wanly.

"Dr. whatshername, the endocrinologist-" I took another bite of 
something good. "-wrote me an excuse that will keep me out of gym for 
the foreseeable future."  There were some unsung benefits from all this.  
Way too few.  Susan nodded understanding.

"And my baggies hide almost anything."  I hoped.  "Besides, everyone 
already thinks I am really strange, and Debbie has made it well known 
that I'm under her protection --"  Bye-bye male ego, but it helped keep 
me alive  "-- so mostly they won't bug me." Not if they valued their 
lives.  Or worse.

"You can't go on like this forever."  I nodded silently, lowering my 
eyes.  I really did not feel like a heart-to-heart conversation this 
morning.  "And sooner or later someone is going to let Valerie out of 
the bag."  Like I did not know this?

"Susan, you know I can't stop what's happening to me."  I gestured at 
myself "So I'm playing it by ear until either they find a cure or 
something happens to force me to choose."  I would not specify choose 
what.  There were still more choices than Tuck or Valerie, but I didn't 
want to scare her.  

She looked at me with concern.  I hoped I had not blown it.

"What do -you- want, little brother?"  Her question surprised me.  It 
was the first time in a long while someone other than my counselor 
actually asked me what I thought.  And it hurt.  Bad.  I was as much 
Valerie as Tuck these days.  And I really did not want to lose either 
part.

"I don't know.  Is that what you wanted to hear?"  I set my head on my
hands and started to cry.

Susan held me until the crying slowed.  "I figured that out early in the 
summer.  But I needed to know if you knew."  I looked at her through 
teary eyes.  "I'll love you either way, or both-" she shook her head "-
but I really wish you'd decide so I will know what to call you."  I 
understood only too well.  Hell, I often didn't know who I was until I 
checked my clothes, and sometimes my underwear.  

The sound of a door opening announced someone else was up, and Dad soon 
appeared, mumbling something about coffee.  Susan took the hint and 
started a pot.  I quietly slid out of my chair and headed back to my 
room.  Life sucked. Same vacuum, different straw.

I was almost back asleep when Mom tapped on my door.  "Eugene, we need 
to discuss today's plans, so please join us in the dining room."  I 
grunted acknowledgment, and made sure I was "properly" dressed before I 
joined them.

Dad and Mom were already prepared for the weather.  They looked at each 
other, and Dad started. "We had planned for everyone to visit more 
historical sights today, but since the weather is a washout-" Brian 
choked on something, probably the bad joke, and Susan pounded on his 
back until he started breathing correctly.  "-Your Mother and I are 
going to meet with some potential business contacts, and have given 
Susan the keys to the minivan in case of emergency."  I looked at Susan, 
and she made phantom, painful twisting motions on her arm.  I grinned.

"We will probably be back fairly late, so keep out of trouble-" Mom and 
Dad looked straight at me for some reason "and obey Susan.  Or else."  
He glanced at his watch.  "We have to catch a cab.  Susan has money for 
food and expenses."  They grabbed their raincoats (I didn't remember 
being told to bring rain gear) and said good-byes as they hurried out 
the door.  

Susan looked at us both with an evil grin.  "Hehehe, wretched infidels, 
you are under my power..."  I wondered if she had been taking lessons 
from Debbie.  Brian elected to watch cable TV.  I suspected he had found 
the X-rated channels.  Susan wanted to read a new book she had brought 
and, I think, avoid the both of us.  That left me sitting around doing 
nothing.  Which was probably better than doing something I really didn't 
want to do.  Like go sightseeing again.  

Back in my room, I dug out Andi's number and tried to give her a call.

"Brinnggg, Brinnggg, click, Hi, this is Andi, I'm not home right now so 
please leave an intelligent message after the beep.  Beep."

"Hi, this is Tuck.  I'll try and give you a call this evening.  It's too 
early for any intelligent messages.  Bye."

So much for getting together with Andi today, I thought to myself.  Then 
I remembered the card and note from Granniebelle.  

The business card was not what I expected.
- - - - - - 
Throckton and Associates
Security and Investigation Services
A National Security Agency Contractor

Annabelle Murray Throckton, Ph.D.
Chief Executive Officer
Domestic Division
- - - - - - 

Visions of being hauled off to some small quiet cell for "interrogation" 
started to whiz through my brain.  I quickly looked at her note.

"Valerie, please give me a call at one of the numbers on my business 
card.  Tell the receptionist that Granniebelle requested you be put 
through directly to me.  Code words are 'fried chicken'.  I would like 
to meet with you early in your visit, as I think I may be able to help 
you with some aspects of having a dual identity.  It will take a good 
part of a day, and I will need you to dress as femininely as possible."  

I spent quite a while deciding whether to carefully destroy the card and 
note, check to see if she planted a tracer on me, or to quit worrying 
and give her a call.  Thinking about spending a rainy day cooped up with 
Brian and Susan made the risk seem bearable.  So I gave in and called 
her number.

"Throckton and Associates, how may I direct your call?"

"Granniebelle Throckton please"

"Who may I say is calling?"

"This is Valerie.  Granniebelle said that I was to request to be put 
through directly, code words 'fried chicken'"

"One moment, please."

I listened to a variety of digital switching sounds, and a moment later 
Granniebelle came on the line.

"Its nice to hear from you so soon, Valerie.  Are you feeling better 
today?"

"I think so.  You said in your note that you want to help me with my 
trying to be both Tuck and Valerie?"

"I did indeed. Are you free today?"

"Mom and Dad canceled today's touring plans because of the weather, and 
went to a business something, so I think I can get free."

"I can pick you up in an hour, and have you back by --"  could hear her 
shuffling some papers "-- about six  in the evening."

"Let me check with my sister, since they left her in charge"

"I'll stay on the line until you return."

I headed to Susan's room, and managed to break her concentration enough 
that she came to the door.

"What do you want?" She sounded annoyed.

"Granniebelle wants to show me some sights around the local area, and I 
really don't want to be stuck here all day."

"Tuck, are you sure she's on the level, and not some psycho?"

I handed her Granniebelle's business card. Her eyes got wide. "Argh..., 
well, make sure you get back before Mom and Dad, or I'll strangle you."  
I nodded, making sure I grabbed the card back, and returned to the 
phone.

"Susan says it's okay with her."

"Fine, give me your address and I will pick you up at ten-fifteen.  Look 
for a gray Suburban driven by a blonde woman, and be sure to dress as 
Valerie."

"Will do.  See you then."  I hung up and then realized that I had no 
place to change after I left.  Brian would probably stay locked in his 
room, and Susan was reading.  It seemed to be a minimal risk to dress 
here.  

A quick shower and heavy scrubbing with a toothbrush brought me to the 
socially acceptable stage.  Back in my room, I dug out my makeup and 
jewelry, and some suitable underwear.  Ten minutes later I checked 
myself over in the mirror.  Stockings, platform high-heel boots, the 
short wrap skirt and matching tank top from Banana Republic, an unpadded 
bra for modesty.  A small chain necklace with pendant, dangly earrings, 
and some makeup rounded out my appearance.  I looked foxy sixteen going 
on twenty-one.  Debbie would be nibbling on my ear by now.  I wanted to 
be doing some nibbling of my own.  Debbie's neck sounded good. Other 
possibilities sounded better. Thinking of the rain, I added the Aussie 
hat.  A bit kooky, but appropriate, I decided.

A sharp pain from between my legs reminded me that thinking erotic 
thoughts of Debbie was unwise dressed the way I was.  I stocked the 
shoulder-bag with supplies, checked the time, and quietly disappeared 
out the front door, making sure I had a working key.  I really did not 
want to explain to Brian why I was dressed in a skirt.

I endured a few minutes of furtive stares from several overage 
businessmen who were also waiting inside the condo offices for 
transportation.  The rain seemed to be getting heavier, and I hoped the 
platforms were tall enough to keep my feet out of the water.  Shortly an 
older, but very well kept gray suburban pulled up.  The driver was 
blonde, and when the side door opened I ran out and hopped in.  The 
weight of the door as I tried to close it surprised me.  Granniebelle 
was seated in one of the custom leather seats, and I realized that the 
back of the Suburban was separated by a heavy partition from the 
driver's area.  "This is an armored truck!" flashed through my mind as 
the massive door clanked shut, and the vehicle started to pull away from 
the curb.  

Granniebelle pointed to a seat opposite her, and I buckled myself in.  
She started to snicker at my obvious concern about the armor plating.

"My last husband did a lot of diplomatic work, and felt it was necessary 
to have a special, secure vehicle for certain assignments.  I like the 
way it rides, and it was so expensive that I kept it around for trips 
like this."  She reached over to a compartment that was apparently a 
refrigerator, and handed me a canned iced tea and a tray of croissants.  
I munched as she explained that we were headed across Wilmington to one 
of her consultants, and then back to her offices.

She pulled some papers out of a worn but elegant leather attach, case.

"Eugene Wallace Tucker, age sixteen, social security number..." My eyes 
grew wide as she read off a summary of my entire history, including my 
school and medical records.  "No criminal history, but several notes 
from various agencies about potential computer intrusions." She had a 
gleam in her eye.  I was not sure whether it was a twinkle, or the look 
of a spider about to have lunch.

"Your girlfriend, Debbie, or should I say Deborah Carstairs, daughter of 
Deputy Sheriff Helen Carstairs..." If I was a frog I could have inhaled 
a 747, my jaw had dropped so far open, "Who appears to be quite an 
entrepreneur based on her tax, bank, and credit card records."  She held 
up another sheet of paper.  "Also no notable criminal record."  I 
suddenly remembered to breathe, and almost made a show of getting some 
oxygen to my reeling brain.  

"And don't look so surprised, I suspect you have done similar research, 
based on what I have found.  I just happen to have better and faster 
access than most people."  I nodded numbly.  "All I really wanted to do 
was to make sure that I was not going to help some criminal type.  I 
thought you were legitimate, but I had to make sure."  I looked for an 
escape route, but there was no latch on the door near me.  

"My late husband worked with the NSA for many years, and when he retired 
we founded the firm of which I am now the CEO.  For a while I thought 
about selling the business. I have far more money than I or my children 
will ever need, but I enjoy mysteries, and it gives me a really good 
place to start on unraveling a sticky one."  I had visions of my being 
unraveled like a ball of string.  It made my skin crawl.

"So what do you want from me?" I asked in a very small voice. "I can't 
be much of a challenge, especially not seeing what you have found." Or 
not found, I thought to myself.  

"I like to use my position and money to help people, and helping you 
seemed to be a real challenge.  So I called in a few favors."  

"But how can you help me?  No one ever said that there was a cure..."

"Oh my heavens, I don't mean I can help your medical problems."  She 
smiled. "But I think I can make it much easier for you to live with your 
dual identity." It was definitely a twinkle in her eyes this time.

"How?"

"You'll see.  So tell me more about yourself, things that these reports 
just can't cover."  I spent almost half an hour detailing much of my 
life.  Granniebelle sat with her eyes closed, listening.  I had a 
feeling her memory was better than a tape recorder.  Which was probably 
hiding somewhere.

We stopped, and a female voice came over an intercom. "We are at your 
first destination, Ms. Throckton".  I heard the door unlock. Remote 
controls, too.

"Thank you, Sharon.  We will be here for a little more than thirty 
minutes."

The door opened and I got out, followed by Granniebelle and her attach, 
case.  The Suburban slowly moved off as Granniebelle looked me over 
carefully.  Shaking her head at the short skirt, she spoke up. "If I had 
dressed like that at your age, my father would have switched my bottom 
raw.  But I guess you dress in the manner of most young women today." 

A small, swarthy man dressed in an ill-fitting silk suit came over and 
greeted Granniebelle, and led us through a security door to an elevator.  
"It's been a long time, Emil. I see that you are as disreputable as 
ever," Granniebelle said as we rode down the elevator.  

"And you are as difficult to work with as Jack, may he rest in peace.'  
He paused, and looked me over.  "So this is the young lady who needs my 
services." He spoke as if I was a ham sandwich.  Or a body that was to 
be shipped out of the country.  Granniebelle nodded.  I had an icky 
feeling he could arrange either.

We got off the elevator in the sub-basement, which was well lighted, and 
entered a studio guarded by several human gorillas carrying Uzis.  Emil, 
if that was his name, waved then off, and called out in what I think was 
Russian to someone.  A moment later an older woman appeared and gave 
Granniebelle a welcome embrace.  I could not hear what they were saying, 
but they both would point at me from time to time.  

Soon I found myself seated in front of several very fancy digital 
cameras.  I recognized them from Dad's computer magazines, absolutely 
top-line, costing a fortune.  My eyes followed the cables to a small 
console, but they then continued out of the room.  I was told to stand, 
walk, and pose in several different positions.  

The next step was for me to repeatedly sign my name as Valerie on a 
digitizing pad.  Once they were satisfied with that, I wound up writing 
and printing three pages of meaningless text.  I realized that they were 
generating a computer model of my handwriting.  Finally these exercises 
were finished, and Emil led us into the room where the cables ended.  I 
was so fascinated I almost walked into the low wall separating the 
computer equipment from the terminal that was our destination.  I was 
not sure, but I thought I was seeing my first Cray supercomputer in 
person.  

Soon I was watching in amazement as a computerized version of me moved 
slowly and twirled on the screen.  It was like looking in a mirror.  It 
gave me a creepy feeling.  Samples of my handwriting, not done by me, 
were printed out and given to me for review.  Emil piped up. "Can you 
find any discrepancies, large or small, between what you see and 
yourself?" I shook my head.  I wondered if the next step was to scan in 
my brain. And then I would disappear....

Granniebelle seemed impatient. "So complete the work I requested, Emil.  
And make sure that you have the goods delivered by courier to me at my 
office no later than four this afternoon.  And no residual copies."  
Emil snorted, and escorted us back to the elevator.  Soon we were back 
in the suburban.  

"Are you interested in some lunch, Valerie?"

"Umh, sure, what kind?"  I was asking a stupid question.  When hungry I 
could eat almost anything.  

"How about some east-coast seafood?"

"As long as it's not clam chowder with tomatoes."

Granniebelle pushed a button and spoke into the intercom.  I felt the 
truck change lanes and I think we turned around.  Soon I was continuing 
my tale of woe as we sped down an expressway.

I felt us slow down and take several turns, and then the road got bumpy.  
I looked quizzically at Granniebelle.  "We should be there in a few 
minutes.  The place we are going is rather quaint, but the food is 
unmatched."  My stomach rumbled.

We stopped and the door again opened by itself.  We were at a corner 
caf, in an older, historical-appearing neighborhood.  A quick dash 
through the rain, and we were inside.  We were met by an effervescent 
woman wearing an apron.  "Annabelle, it has been too long!" They 
embraced and stayed that way for quite a time.  

"The business world sometimes makes one forget the good things in life," 
Granniebelle said as they separated.  I felt like I was on the outside 
looking in.

"So who is this young lady?"

"I almost forgot my manners."  She turned to me. "Martha, this is 
Valerie."  I curtsied, feeling like a kid on display.  "Valerie, this is 
Martha Crowden, owner and chief cook and bottle washer for this best-
kept secret."  We shook hands, and she looked me over.  I felt like I 
was being sized up for the evening meal.

"Well, don't just stand there, your table is ready."  She led us to a 
small booth near the back.  My nose suddenly cleared, and smell of FOOD 
caused my stomach to make very un-lady-like sounds.  Martha and 
Granniebelle both chuckled.  Soon I was nibbling on some sort of crab-
and-something stuffed mushrooms that begged me to savor every morsel.  

We were nearing the end of the main course, a cream-poached sole, when 
several suited men came in and looked the place over.  I got a sudden 
chilled feeling, and started to slide out of my seat as I looked for an 
escape route.  "Hitmen!" rang through my consciousness.  Before I was 
able to move very far, our table was surrounded by them.   Granniebelle 
seemed totally unperturbed, and I drew back into the booth as far as I 
could.  

When Granniebelle saw the panicked look on my face, she reached out to 
hold my hand. "Relax, Valerie, they are not here because of little 
people like us."  ?Little people? 

"Ms. Throckton, how good to see you again." The one that appeared in 
charge spoke up.  "And who is your charming companion?"  I gave 
Granniebelle a pleading look. Or the look of a lamb trying to avoid the 
butcher.

"May I present Valerie Lynn Tucker."  -?Lynn?!!!- She turned to me.  
"Valerie, this is Special Agent Morrisen of the Secret Service."  I 
managed to shake his hand.  I was quivering too hard to speak.  "She is 
visiting, and I think you cloak-and-dagger types scared her."  Me, 
scared?  No. Frightened half to death, maybe.

Agent Morrisen looked at me carefully.  "I've done an in-depth 
background check on her" Granniebelle looked at him, "and she passed 
with flying colors, so quit looming over her."  

He grinned.  "That's good enough for me, Ms. Throckton."  He looked at 
me again.  "If she's that shy, you may want not to be here for more than 
another fifteen minutes" he looked at his watch.  "Because there will be 
dignitaries arriving after that and probably a reporter or five 
following them."  

"Then we will be gone before they arrive.  I do so hate the limelight." 
She turned to me "Valerie, finish your meal, and I will ask Martha to 
pack us a dessert."  That sounded like a good idea.  But I was too 
nervous, and almost too full too eat any more.  We were picked up by 
Sharon before anyone else arrived.  

We traveled in silence for a while.  When we finally stopped moving, it 
jarred me back into reality.  The door opened, and Granniebelle led me 
into a Victorian mansion as Sharon drove around back.  "Valerie, I truly 
did not mean to traumatize you. I had no idea that the Vice President 
was going to pick today to take lunch at Martha's."  The Vice President? 
!!! Visions of Valerie on the six o'clock news overloaded my already 
overworked emotional system.  Everything went white and I quietly passed 
out in her foyer.

I woke up lying on a couch, covered by a thick comforter.  A blonde 
woman, probably Sharon, was sponging my forehead with a damp cloth.  
"She's awake, Ms. Throckton." Definitely Sharon.  I looked across the 
room as Granniebelle got up from her desk, and joined us.  Sharon smiled 
and left the room.

"You really are afraid of having your masquerade discovered."  I nodded.  
She pulled up a chair.  "Why are you so afraid?" I started with getting 
beat up as a kid for being different, covered Bobby McPhearson's 
assaults, and finished with Jack.

"So I really don't wanna get killed or beat up again, and if they--" I 
did not specify who 'they' were "--find out I'm really different that's 
what's gonna happen."  She gave me a sympathetic look.  

"You can't spend the rest of your life running away from yourself and 
hiding in the shadows."  This I already knew.  "Are you waiting for 
someone else to make the choices for you?" 

"I don't want to make a choice.  I just want people to leave me alone."

"And you think that by hiding your pretty head in the sand people will 
forget you are there?  I think not, my dear."  I nodded gloomily.  "Do 
you feel ready to stand up?"  I tested my extremities and stretched.  
Everything worked.  I nodded.  "Then come with me over to my desk."  I 
followed her like a puppy.

Motioning me into a large leather armchair, she sat down and picked up 
two small sealed packages.  Selecting one, she put the other on the desk 
near me and opened the one she had selected.  

"Have you considered how many serious problems you will encounter if for 
some reason you have to identify yourself, and your ID does not match 
your appearance?"  I nodded and smiled.  I pulled out my fake "Valerie" 
ID.  She looked it over and snorted. "Amateurish."

"Okay, it's not much, but it has worked several times."  

"What do you think would have happened if the Secret Service had asked 
for your ID?"  I shuddered.  "They are tacitly allowed quite a bit of 
leeway in questioning suspicious people in their line of work.  As 
nervous as you are, you'd be peeing your knickers within five minutes, 
and confessing to everything from dandruff to international terrorism in 
ten."  

Visions of being tied to a chair in a small, shadowy room started 
flashing across my eyes and I started to feel light-headed again.  "Oh 
no you don't!" Granniebelle spoke sharply, and I quickly pulled myself 
back into the present.  She looked carefully through the contents of the 
package she had opened.  With a satisfied nod, she handed most of it to 
me.

My face froze in shock when I saw the first item.  It was a driver's 
license, complete with picture and hologram, from my home state, made 
out to a Valerie Lynn Tucker.  It even had my signature, well, Valerie's 
signature.  Setting it carefully aside, I looked at the other papers. 
There was a Social Security card, made out to Valerie, with the same 
social security number as the license.  An ATM card on an account in 
Valerie's name, and a box of checks for the same account. I opened the 
checkbook and found the register showing a balance of eight hundred 
dollars.  I looked at Granniebelle in astonishment.  She was smiling 
like a Cheshire cat.  I quickly checked the last document.  It was an 
official, sealed duplicate copy of Valerie Lynn Tucker's birth 
certificate.  The fraternal twin sister of Eugene Wallace Tucker. 
"How...." was all I could manage.

"It's funny how easily official documents can turn up around the 
nation's capital." She smiled.  "But then, I've never seen that happen.  
However, I would be willing to bet that if anyone were to perform a 
routine check they would find they are completely legitimate, issued by 
the proper agencies.  In fact, if you were to need replacements, I am 
almost certain that no one would ever think you were anyone other than 
Eugene's twin sister."  She looked very serious for a moment.  "I even 
suspect that the address given on the documents is a Post Office box 
under Valerie's name in your home town, so no incriminating mail will 
show up at your house."  I checked and she was right, the addresses all 
gave the same post office box.  She handed me a paid receipt for the 
box, along with two keys.  And a small sealed envelope.

"But, but, but, WHY?" was the best I could manage.  

"Because I like you and if you are careful, these will make the part of 
your life spent as Valerie much easier."  I nodded.  "Especially for tax 
purposes, as the cretins working for the IRS really don't care whether 
you are Valerie or Eugene as long as the social security number is 
correct."  She had a point.  "And I like playing with the system when it 
hurts no one and helps somebody that can use it."  

I stared at what she had given me.  

Valerie.  

I was no longer a masquerade.

The tears started flowing down my cheeks and I got up and gave 
Granniebelle a gentle hug.  I think she cried a bit also, but maybe that 
was just what I wanted to happen.  When we separated, she spoke up 
again.

"You need to get home, so I will give you this other package to take
with you."  She pointed to the remaining package on her desk.  It was
smaller than the one she had handed to me.  "Do not open it.  Give it to
your girlfriend Debbie with my compliments.  She seems to be a really
special young lady."  I nodded.  To me Debbie was far more than special.
I think Granniebelle knew this. "And don't open the small envelope I
gave you until you get back home from your trip."  Granniebelle pushed
something on her desk, and a moment later Sharon came in.

"Please get the leftovers from our lunch and give them to Valerie, and 
take her home."  Sharon nodded.  Granniebelle looked at me.  "If you 
happen to be in this area again, please give me a call, and we'll do 
lunch.  Next time, I hope without interruptions."  She gave me another 
hug, and pushed me towards the door where Sharon was waiting.

The trip back was uneventful and quiet.  I was doing a lot of thinking.  
Most of it going nowhere.  And glancing carefully at the documents from 
Granniebelle, which I had secreted in my shoulder bag.  When we arrived 
at the Condo it was still raining, and I really appreciated the platform 
boots.  The water was only up to my toes.  I quickly took the elevator 
up to our place, and tried quietly to unlock the door.  

As I slid inside, I ran straight into Susan, who was looking like 
someone had called in and requested she go identify my body.  I had a 
sinking feeling that somehow I had been caught by a paparazzi.  

"Tuck, what the hell are you doing going out dressed like that?  What if 
Mom or Dad had come home early, or you had been in an accident, or 
worse..."  ?Worse?  "And this guy Andy has been calling for you, so what 
have you been up to?"

I sighed.  "Can we continue this in my room?"  Susan realized that we 
were in the middle of the living area with the door open.  She ran over 
to shut the door as I headed for the bathroom.  I needed to go.  And I 
really did not want another session of twenty questions.  But I doubted 
Susan would agree.

When I finished I made sure Brian was not hanging around in the hall, 
and zipped into my room.  Susan was already sitting on the bed, looking 
through the bag of leftovers.  "Scrounging?" I asked.  She glared at me, 
then pulled out a huge piece of what looked like chocolate cherry 
cheesecake.  I tried to grab it but she pivoted quickly.  My "Hey, 
that's mine!" did not deter her.  She reached back into the bag and 
pulled out a second piece.  

"I'll be back in a minute," she said, heading for the door. 

"Bring me a coke," I hollered as she left.  A moment later she was back, 
with two plates, two forks, and drinks.  When I tried to get my fork 
into the piece she had chosen she hissed at me.  At least she couldn't 
ask questions when her mouth was full.  And the cheesecake was much too 
good to eat quickly.  

I could only eat a small amount, it was so rich.  After re-wrapping 
mine, I started to get undressed.  I was down to bra, panties, garters 
and hose when I noticed Susan staring at me, shaking her head.  "What's 
wrong, are my stockings twisted?"  I tried to bend around to check, 
which of course deformed things more.  

"You act just like any of the girls in my dorm.  If I didn't know you 
were my brother, I'd never suspect a thing." I shrugged and gave her my 
"I've heard this before" look.  I had.  From Debbie.  And Lisa.  And the 
rest of the pack.  Hell, even from Jack.  She looked embarrassed for a 
moment.  "Do you always undress in front of the other girls..." 

"Other girls?" I echoed.  She looked chagrined.  I smiled.  "I don't 
even think about it anymore.  They treat me like one of them, so it just 
doesn't come up."  Something about my phrasing bothered me. (Urgghh!)

Susan pointed at my crotch and started giggling "I'll bet Debbie 
wouldn't agree with that." I blushed bright red, and then covered myself 
as thinking of Debbie caused a very familiar reaction.  By now Susan was 
laughing herself silly.  Turning away, I left the panties on and peeled 
off the stockings and bra, donning my shorts and morning's T shirt.  But 
I was chuckling, too.

"By the way, who is this guy Andy that has been calling you" Guy?  Oh 
oh.

"It's Andi with an 'I'" I emphasized, "and she is one of the relatives I
found when I was doing my research.  She is a fellow geek, and so we 
have a lot in common."  Susan looked at me and groaned.

She left for her room, and after closing the door, I pulled out Andi's 
number and gave her another call.  Same answering machine message.  I 
left another simple note, and decided that a nap was in order.  Making 
sure that all my Valerie stuff was put away, I curled up with my pillow, 
and thought warm Debbie thoughts.  Soon I was asleep.

Brian's banging on my door woke me up.  "Mom and Dad want you to join us 
for dinner."  I assumed that Brian didn't.  One reason for me to get up.  

"Tell them I'll be out in a minute."  I quickly dressed and headed for 
the dining area.  Dad must have found another take-out place.  Barbecued 
ribs, if my nose was correct.  Darn, I was still full from lunch and 
dessert.  Susan was already attacking a rib, and I wondered what she had 
told them about my afternoon.  I decided to play it cool.  

It turned out she must have neglected to say anything, and I doubt if 
Brian even knew I was gone.  So we all got to hear about their visit 
with a national ISP contractor, and the possibilities of Dad's company 
getting significantly improved, or at least cheaper, access if he wanted 
to ally with their consortium.

I made a show of eating a few ribs, and quickly excused myself, saying I 
was still tired from the previous day.  Brian started to bitch about my 
helping clean up, which got him stuck with the entire job.  Not a big 
deal, bagging trash and wiping the table.

When I returned to my room, I realized it was late enough to call Andi 
again.  I figured it would be better if I was not quizzed by the 
parental units about getting calls from a girl.  This time luck was with 
me.  Andi answered on the second ring.

"Andi's nut house, chief squirrel speaking."  

"This is Tuck.  I'll take one 64 megabit acorn and two 400 megahertz 
macadamia nuts."

"Salted or unsalted?" She broke out in laughter.  "So we finally finish 
our game of telephone tag."

"I hope so, explaining all these calls to my parents could really be 
difficult."

"Sorry about that.  But I was afraid I was going to miss you.  So what 
are your plans?"

"I wish I knew.  I think I will be able to get free on Thursday, for at 
least part of the day.  My parents have the next two days scheduled for 
the worst form of torture, family sightseeing."

"Eew, gross.  So what happens on Thursday?  Are they going to unhook 
your leash, or just give you the keys to the door?"

"We are scheduled to go shopping all day, and I can plan my own 
itinerary for most of the time.  We're supposed to start at, uh, let's
see..." I had to look for where I had written down every gory detail of 
their plans  "some huge place called the Christiana Mall".

"Great, that's near where I live.  They open at nine, so why don't I 
meet you at around eleven at the thirty-some flavors in the food court?"  
She paused. "How will I recognize you?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing.  Just look for someone wearing 
new khaki shorts and shirt, and an Aussie hat - sort of a preppie 
Indiana Jones look.  What about you?"

"That's different enough.  I'll be wearing a set of Adidas warm-ups, 
with a yellow sweat band, and probably carrying a backpack.  OOPS!"  I
could hear some shouting in the background. "Dad wants me to get working 
on the lawn.  See you Thursday."

"Sounds good.  I'll leave a message if there are any changes in plans."  
We hung up at the same time.  At least Thursday wouldn't be boring.  I 
hoped.  A quick shower later I was in bed, with my personal alarm set 
for 0200 to connect on-line and see what was happening at home.  I don't 
think I thought about anything.  I think.


Chapter 4

The insistent beeping of my portable alarm roused me from what was for 
once a dreamless sleep.  "Caffeine.  Need Caffeine." was interrupted by 
"Bathroom.  Really Need Bathroom."  For some reason the order seemed to 
be reversed.  I made it just in time.  

A quick run to the kitchen for a Coke and back to my room.  It took only 
a moment for me to connect to the net.  Five minutes of sludge removal, 
and I had two real messages, a long one from Mike, and a tiny one from 
Granniebelle.  I read Granniebelle's first.  

"Tucker.  I meant to warn you that you should avoid using your new 
paperwork for at least a week for anything really high security, like 
getting a passport.  It should work, but it takes a few days to verify 
that all the changes have been processed."   Not a problem, I thought, 
as leaving the country was not a part of my plans.  At least currently.  
I carefully deleted the message.  

"Hey tuck..." It was a long, almost boring message.  I guess that things 
back home were not much more interesting than here.  Debbie sent her 
love, which was what I hoped.  And warned me that she was planning 
several Mary Kay demonstrations for the second week that we were back in 
school.  More makeup, but the money, the money....

I sent off my reply, and headed back to bed.  

Brian's irritating pounding on the door brought me back to reality.  
Even covering my head with a pillow didn't help.

"Tuck, Mom and Dad said for you to get up and get dressed.  We are 
supposed to leave in half an hour."  Shit.  And I needed a shower.  But 
at least here there were two bathrooms and, I hoped, lots of hot water.

Fifteen minutes later I was clean, had brushed my hair back into a pony 
tail, and secured the front with a bandanna.  A quick check showed a 
cool, gray, windy day.  I needed to do laundry, but the khaki pants and 
one of the shirts seemed appropriate for the weather.  Something just 
didn't seem right.  When I sat down to put on my makeup, it slapped me 
in the face.

A quick check told me to put away the heeled boots and makeup.  Noting 
the time I decided to keep the stockings on, slipping a pair of socks 
over them.  I hoped I would remember which washroom to use.  Outside I 
was Teenage Preppie-Geek Tuck.  Underneath I was Victoria's Secret 
Valerie.  I hoped the rest of the day would not be like this.  Having a 
split personality was one thing; wearing one was another.

Mom was lecturing Brain about dressing properly when she saw me enter 
the kitchen.  "See, even your brother understands you are supposed to 
dress nicely for touring with your parents."  I was not sure it was 
entirely a compliment.  Susan was ready, dressed almost like me.  Shit, 
way too much like me.  

Dad came in and dragged Brian back to his room.  Mom looked at Susan and 
Me, then looked away quickly.  I looked at Susan, who gave me a 
sympathetic smile.  I just wanted to go back to my room and pull the 
reality over my eyes.  Dad's "Let's get going, we don't want to miss 
anything," put that idea on hold.  

Soon we had all piled in the van, with Susan between me and Brian, and 
were wending our way South through traffic.  Dad must have heard my 
stomach rumble, as he pulled into a stop-and-rob for snacks before we 
hit the expressway.  I grabbed a two-liter Dew to help me stay awake.  
It didn't help much.

By the time we returned home I was tired, hungry, and my feet hurt.  
Historical re-creations may be a great tourist attraction, but they make 
superb geek repellent.  After a much-needed restroom break, we headed 
back out, over my weak objections.  Dinner was at some east-coast 
version of the Ponderosa Steak House.  All the pre-digested beef unfit 
to eat.  At least they had a decent salad bar.  I decided that salad 
sounded really good.  And I was able to get through the line without 
being called "miss", at least in front of Brian or my parents.

I fell asleep against Susan on the way home.  I didn't care if she was 
my sister.  She was warm and female and didn't complain when I snuggled 
against her.  I really needed Debbie.

I think Susan and Dad helped me get to my room, and rolled me onto my 
bed.  I finally woke up enough to get undressed and under the covers.  
Still in Valerie's underwear.  

The trial was a sham.  I was locked in a pillory and gagged for fear of 
me casting spells.  It was after nightfall when the football team 
dragged me outside in my underskirts, and tied me to a stake in the town 
square.  To the constant urging of the principal, they piled kindling 
and logs around me.  I saw the reflected glow of a torch behind me, and 
watched in horror as Debbie's mother, leading the Red Bluff cheerleading 
squad, came around twirling her flaming batons and started lighting the 
pyre...

I woke up soaked in sweat, and headed for the bathroom before my stomach 
rebelled.  A few miserable minutes later I decided that I was not going 
to be sick, and figured a shower was a good idea.  I really did not want 
to try and analyze the symbolism of that dream.  As I undressed I 
realized I had made the dash in bra and panties. I hoped no one was up.  
Soon I was clean and wrapped in a towel.  Gathering up all my clothing, 
I quickly hurried back to my room, and found myself wide awake.  

After I dressed, I collected all my dirty laundry and headed for the 
laundry room.  Since I had to dry some of my stuff separately, I found 
one of the books I had packed, got out a Coke, and started reading.  It 
was almost 4 AM when the last clothes were out of the drier, folded, and 
put carefully away in my bags.  I really did not want to check my mail, 
so I made the bed with the sheets I had just washed, and snuggled 
against my pillow, wishing Debbie were there.  Sleep finally came, and I 
drifted off quietly.

- - - - - 

Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday, except that I started out in Tuck 
clothes and underwear.  It was even less interesting then Tuesday.  I 
wondered if my parents were getting paid to torture us.  No normal 
people would waste their time doing these things.  But then, did I say 
my parents were normal?  I took half a Valium before bed.  Sleep was 
better without nightmares.  

The problem with going to bed early was that I was used to less than 
eight hours of sleep.  So at 0430 my internal clock kicked in and I 
found myself staring at the ceiling.  Figuring it was a good time to 
check in, I hooked up and soon was reading a message from Debbie.  One 
of those "I'm lonely and wish you were here and keeping me warm" 
messages.  The kind that leaves you with a great longing in your heart.  
And your shorts.  

Since I still had a couple of hours before I had to be ready to go, I 
decided to do a bit of research on my own about Granniebelle.  I figured 
she might have made most of the information disappear.  Instead, there 
was a lot, most of it uninformative, centered around her company.  Only 
her Ph.D. caught my eye.  I had assumed it was in business or 
accounting, not classical literature. 

Even after a rather detailed search, she seemed to be what her image 
portrayed, a wealthy, upstanding member of the Delaware aristocracy, 
with just enough hints of upper-class scandal to keep the media awake.  
Being on her good side was a good idea.  I suspected that she had 
friends with their heads in the clouds, and their roots in the sewers.  
I didn't want to be found stuck in the roots.  

After putting away the laptop, I decided to try for a nap, and the next 
thing I was aware of was Susan shaking me awake.  "Let's get going, 
Tuck, It's shopping day."  Shopping?  Oh yeah.  Whoopee.  But today was 
also the day I was supposed to meet Andi.

"Okay, I'm getting up."

"Well, hurry.  We need to leave soon."

I managed to start dressing without problems, until I realized that I 
had told Andi what I was going to be wearing.  So off with what I had 
selected and on with the planned stuff.  I had a strange feeling today 
was going to be an "opportunity to excel", meaning a disaster, so I 
pulled out my backpack and carefully filled the bottom with a complete 
Valerie outfit.  My regular shoes would work fine with the wrap skirt, 
and that made the load really light. I put my shoulder bag, complete 
with identification, in the pack, leaving the extra documents, like the 
birth certificate, safely hidden.  I grabbed a couple of the muffins 
that someone had bought for breakfast, and wound up carrying them and a 
Coke out to the minivan.  The trip took about twenty minutes, and soon 
we were parked near one of the entrances.  

"Remember, this mall is only one of the many shopping opportunities 
within walking distance."  Dad spoke up "And there is no sales tax here, 
so it is like having a built-in discount. Whatever you buy, it has to 
fit in your baggage on the airplane."  He looked at each of us.  "We 
will meet back here at five in the afternoon, and then go out to dinner 
at what I have been told is one of the better restaurants in the area.  
So don't get too dirty."  We all nodded obediently, even Mom.

Dad then handed each of us a small envelope, and he and Mom headed for 
the nearest entrance.  When we opened the envelopes, there were five, 20 
dollar bills apiece, and a note: "Happy shopping." I wondered if there 
was something really special I could get Debbie, and still have enough 
for some books and CDs. I soon managed to ditch Susan and Brian, and 
headed away from the mall for the nearby computer mega-outlet to kill 
some time.  

I staggered out with my money still in my pocket.  Too many toys, too 
few lifetimes to try them all.  And Doom III in 3D on a tricked-out 
Pentium 400 is not for the meek.  Or those who want to sleep at night.  
My watch said I was to meet Andi in about 20 minutes, so I hurried back 
to the Mall.  

I was en route to the food court when a matronly lady with a clipboard 
stopped me.  "Miss, would you mind answering a survey about your 
favorite stores here in Christiana Mall?"  ?Miss? I looked behind me, 
and then realized it was me she was addressing.  Shit.  Not again.  
Especially not today.  I shook my head and ran past her like she was 
something out of a horror movie.  Or Days of Our Lives.  Maybe she was 
an omen.  I hoped not.

When I reached the ice cream place I did not see anyone looking like she 
should be Andi, so I purchased a small cup of sherbet, and sat with my 
back to a wall so I could watch the customers as they entered. It was 
about 11:15 when someone entered my field of vision wearing warm-ups.  
He was about five-ten according to the little "know your thief" height 
strip on the doorway, and looked like an acrobat or gymnast, lean and 
strong.  His long, thick blonde hair was tied back, but reached almost 
to his waist.  It was the yellow sweatband and backpack that caught my 
eye.  Must be a coincidence, I thought to myself.  But the face seemed 
familiar.  

He looked the place over, stared briefly at me, then shook his head.  I 
watched as he ordered a super-combination banana split, and sat down 
where he could observe everyone.  Something told me that this was more 
than a coincidence.  I watched as he ate eat more food in one sitting 
than I could in a typical day.  He continued to look around, but his 
gaze always returned to me.  When I got up to trash my empty cup, he 
came over to me.  I started looking for an escape route, when he spoke 
up in a shy tenor voice: "Tuck?"

And suddenly I knew what was wrong.  I was looking for a girl.  Instead, 
I was looking like the girl.  

"Uh, yeah.  Andi?"  I responded, as Valerie.

"Um Hm."  He looked embarrassed.  "I thought you said you were a ..."  

"Yeah, lets get out of here before we really get confused."  I grabbed 
his ?her? arm and tried to pull her out the door.  It was like trying to 
move Travis.

"Slow down, you don't even know where you want to go."  Well, in a way I 
did.  

"Almost anywhere there won't be a lot of nosy people."  

Andi looked at her watch. "There should be a bunch of empty benches 
outside the movie theater.  Let's head that way."  

I didn't know which way that way was, but Andi dragged me along like a 
little kid.  Soon we were sitting in relative privacy outside one of 
those multi-scream movie houses that seem to infest malls.  Andi was 
looking me over carefully.  So I did the same to her.  Him.  Whatever.

"You said you were a guy." was his next comment.  I guess Valerie was 
not making a very masculine impression.

"And you said that you spelled Andi with an "I"."  It came out sounding 
nasty, and I immediately regretted it.  Andi grimaced, and lowered 
his/her head.  I could see tears leaking out at the corner of her eyes.  
Yep, her.  I moved over and gave her a hug, and started to shake.  Soon 
we were in the midst of a real crying jag.  When we managed to slow 
down, there were people watching us from a distance.  

Like we were a couple of typical teenagers running on hormones.  And the 
absurdity of it made me giggle, then start to laugh.  "What bit you?" 
Andi pulled back to arm's length and eyed me warily.  At first all I 
could do was point to her and to myself. 

"They think we are a couple of love-struck teenagers. Like I just gave 
you a 'Dear John' notice."  I paused  "Except that you're the girl and 
I'm the guy. I think."  Andi pondered this for a minute, and then, 
pulling me close, gave me a very unlady-like kiss.  I responded in more 
ways than I should have, and wound up on her lap, sucking face and 
twitching. 

Andi finally broke the vacuum, and pulled her head back.  I guess the 
glazed look in my eyes scared her.  "Tuck, are you all right?"  I shook 
the glitter out of my brain, and realized what I was doing.  But it felt 
soo... good. 

"Yeah, but let's get out of here before we get arrested for public 
indecency."  She giggled, and I followed her out of the mall to the 
disapproving stares of several older women.  

We were just outside the door when a male voice right next to us shouted 
"Hey Andy, who's the cute new chick?"  I spun around and found myself 
face to face with the incredible hulk, wearing a letter sweater.  I 
didn't even come up to his chin.  I tried to turn and run, slammed 
directly into Andi, bounced, and landed butt-first on something.  
Squish.

"Oww..." was all I could manage.  Then my poor, overworked brain relayed 
the "Squish".  ?Squish?  I felt myself being pulled to my feet.  Andi 
was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, and the gorilla that had 
surprised us was pounding her on the back hard enough to break ribs.  At 
least my ribs.  I looked where I had landed, then at my backside, and 
groaned.  Someone had left a half-finished slurpie on the sidewalk.  The 
results were disgusting.  So much for first impressions.

"Monty, you muscle-brained moron, now look what you've done."  Andi was 
trying to sound angry, but I guess I made too good a sit-down comic.  
"Thanks to you, she's got goo all over her."  ?Her?  Andi suddenly 
realized how she had addressed me, and began to panic.  I figured that 
if I wanted to live I had better speak up, and soon.  

"I'm Valerie, one of Andi's distant relatives from the Midwest"  I 
decided not to hold out my hand.  Monty, at least that is what Andi 
called him, began to apologize profusely.  Andi neatly covered her 
double-take when I called myself Valerie, and true to her heritage 
(geeks have this strange psychic link under stress), took it from there.

"Now you are going to have to buy Valerie a new outfit so she and I can 
continue our visit."  Monty looked suddenly ill.  

"Buy...?"  

"Yes, you oversized nincompoop, Buy!  She has no way to get home until 
this evening, and she is NOT going to run around looking like she had an 
accident."  

Monty looked really meek, and pulled out his wallet.  Andy deftly 
extracted three twenty-dollar bills.  "This should be enough, but if 
not, you will owe it to me."  He just shook his head, unbelievingly.  
"Now leave us alone.  I'll see you at school next week."  He quickly 
headed for the parking lot.  "I bet we won't see him again today."  She 
chortled. I hoped not.

I started to get a really gross, icky feeling as the sugary stuff soaked 
through the shorts.  "Andi, I've got to get this crud off me."  She 
looked at me.  "I've got some clean clothes in my backpack.  Where is 
the nearest washroom?"  We headed back into the mall, with people 
staring at me like I was some sort of mutant.  I guess the red-brown 
sticky stuff dripping off my butt did not help.

Andi almost freaked when I headed directly into the ladies room, but  
she quickly followed me in.  I locked myself and my pack in a stall, and 
stripped.  I shoved the shorts out from under the door, asking Andi to 
rinse them off.  She brought me some wet paper towels, and after a lot 
of scrubbing I felt almost clean.  Since Valerie was out of the bag, 
Tuck went into he backpack. 

When I stepped out of the stall wearing my miniskirt, stockings, and 
bra-less tank-top, Andi's eyes looked like saucers.  "Bu.. Bu.."  I 
smiled at her, stepped to a sink, and within minutes had brushed out my 
hair, added a scrunchie, and finished my makeup.  She was still making 
fish-out-of-water motions, so I led her out of the washroom, scanning to 
make sure that neither my parents nor siblings were nearby.  

As we quickly headed out of the mall, Andi finally managed to find her 
voice.  "Tuck, what are you?"  

I looked at her.  "A lot like you.  Let's find somewhere I can get my 
clothes washed and we can talk."

"Like me?" I could hear a hint of familiar fear in her voice.

"Yeah.  So where can we go?"

"How about my house?  It's only a few minutes from here."

"What about your parents, won't they object to you bringing a boy home 
In the middle of the day?"  

She stopped and looked at me again.  Then giggled, pointing at my skirt.  
"What boy?"  Right.  This I had seen before.  She steered me across the 
parking lot to a rusty old Ford sedan.  It made me homesick for George's 
old wreck.  

I thought George's driving was crazy.  Andi was the Little Old Lady From 
Pasadena's Goddaughter. Or an escapee from a demolition derby.  And her 
car didn't drive like it looked.  When she pulled out on to the 
expressway I thought we were on a takeoff roll.  By the time we reached 
her driveway I was a bit green.  Her idea of a few minutes distance was 
based on warp 3.   

We parked in the driveway, and she led me to a back door.  The 
sophisticated security system and electronic door locks were in stark 
contrast to the vintage construction.  Once inside, we headed to the 
basement laundry room.  Soon my clothes, thoroughly soaked in stain 
remover, were squishing along in the washer.  "Want a soda?" was Andi's 
next question.  I nodded, and we headed up to the kitchen.  I had never 
seen so many knickknacks outside an antique store.  

Seeing me eye the kitsch warily, Andi spoke up.  "My mom is into 
collecting that sort of stuff." as she pulled some porcelain figurine 
off a shelf, "and when Grandmother died and left us her collection, Mom 
decided she just had to put it all on display."  Debbie would have 
gagged.  I wondered who got stuck dusting it.  

When we reached the kitchen, Andi tossed me a canned Pepsi and, grabbing 
one for herself, led me upstairs towards her room.  The house was huge.  
The cipher lock on her door felt eerily deja-vu.  "Gotta keep the rug 
rats out of my stuff."  Definitely deja-vu.

Her room was the size of our living room, and resembled a junkyard.  Or 
the results of a terrorist attack.  Books, computers, and auto-parts 
were fighting each other for space on the floor, desks and dressers.  
Clothing was used for garnish.  I wondered about the trophies on one 
shelf.  A closer look told me she was really into the martial arts.  

"Watch your step" was Andi's comment as I almost tripped over her 
network router.  Neatness was not one of her strong points.

We managed to make it to her bed unscathed. It was the only clear space 
in the room.  Clear, that is, except for a pile of covers and stuffed 
animals.  

"Mom and Dad gave up on getting me to clean this up years ago, so as 
long as I don't burn the place down, shelter non-electronic rodents, or 
leave the door open, they ignore the mess.  Besides, they don't have the 
combination."  This I understood.

I wished my Mom would let me do this.  Except that I would be sleeping 
on top of old computer cases by now. 

Andi stretched like a cat, scratched, and pulled off her shoes and warm-
ups.  I got suddenly jealous.  She had the athletic, lean and mean body 
I always wanted. The under-filled sports-bra and lycra bike-shorts 
seemed out of place.  I stared at her with envy in my eyes, which I 
suspected she mistook for condemnation.

"Okay. So I look like a boy." she spoke sharply.  "And you dress like a 
girl.  What's the connection?"

I cringed.  The research I had done was correct.  I was not alone.

"It's not our choice."

Silently I stripped off my shirt and skirt.  I had tucked myself back 
into the satin panties earlier.  Standing there in panties, hose and 
garters,  I pirouetted slowly.  She stared at my hard nipples and pert 
breasts intently, then swept her eyes to my thin waist and rounded hips.

"Damn, I wish I had a body like that."  She sounded resentful.  "But you 
said you were a guy..."

"So what did your doctors tell you when they found you were changing, 
mostly, into a guy?"  She looked suddenly scared, and moved away from me 
on the bed.

"How did you know..." and then a solar flare appeared over her head. "Oh 
Shit" her voice dropped an octave.  "And we are relatives..."

"Yep."  I nodded.  "Much closer relatives than you think."  I took a 
swig of my Pepsi. It was going to be a long story. 

"It all started when my girlfriend, Debbie, who's, well, a bit weird,"  
putting it mildly, "had this idea about winning the Halloween costume 
prize at school last fall, so she dressed me up as a biker chick, 
complete with corset and heels, and when it turned out I looked and 
sounded like a real girl, things just got stranger and stranger...."  I 
continued with the story 

"I found myself spending most of my time with Debbie as Valerie, 
especially when we were able to spend the night together at her 
house..., and her mother's a deputy sheriff...."  Andi almost fell of 
the bed laughing.  More story.

"So after Debbie made me tell my doctor about my sore chest, the rest 
just kind of followed..., and then I ran away and scared everyone... And 
after my friends came and brought me back from my sister's college, Mom 
and Dad made me go to a  Psychiatrist who gave me Zoloft, and now I have 
to see a counselor every week...."  

"I baby sat all summer as Valerie, 'cause that's how I was first 
introduced, and the kids really like me, and I make more money than I 
could working stocking shelves, which I'm really not strong enough to do 
anyway.  And finally I decided to do more research on whatever was 
causing me to change, and when I found out about a possible genetic 
link, I told my sister about it, and then she told me about the 
disappearing relatives she had discovered when she was doing some 
genealogical research, and that is how I found you."  I was out of 
breath, and things to say.

Andi was watching me intently.  "And you decided to see if there anyone 
in my family had the same problem."  She made it almost accusatory.

"No, I was going to try and figure a way to let you-" I paused, "-
meaning you and your brother and sister, know what I had found so if one 
of you had a similar problem you could maybe avoid some of the things I 
have been through.  Especially that feeling like I was a freak and it 
was me alone against the rest of the world."  I paused, looking at her 
expression, "And then when we met at the mall I knew that I was not 
alone...."  

Suddenly she got a strange expression, and curled up into a ball.  
"Andi, are you okay?"

She looked at me and the tears started running down her cheeks.  "It's 
not fair" she wailed, "You're pretty and popular and have lots of normal 
friends who don't care what you look like, and, and ..." she started to 
pound on the bed.  She looked at me, and yanked off her bra.  "and you 
even have bigger boobs".  I did.  All she had were large nipples.  

"And I don't know from one moment to another who or what I am, only that 
I'll look more and more like my sister as I get older."  I moved over 
and snuggled against her.  "So I live day-to-day and try to be who I am 
inside."  She started to shake and wrapped her arms around me.  It was 
going to be a wet afternoon.  

When she finally sobbed herself out, I disentangled and sat back. "So 
when did you find out that you were changing?"  She sighed, and wrapped 
herself in some covers.

"It was a little over a year ago. I was competing in a martial arts 
tournament, and someone accused me of taking steroids."  she flexed a 
distinct bicep.  "So they made me take a physical and give them a blood 
sample.  When the results came back, they disqualified me for taking 
hormones, and my parents like blew their cool, cause they knew I 
wouldn't do anything like that.

"Anyway, they sent me to a couple of specialists, and that's when they
found that my body was developing like I was a teenage boy, rather than 
a girl."  She looked angry.  "Which explained a lot, like why I was such 
a good athlete, and so much more aggressive than the other girls I
knew." Now she looked sad.  "And why most of the guys treated me more
like one of their brothers than a girlfriend."

Andi curled up into a little ball.  "And now the only guys that want to 
have anything to do with me, except as one of them, are the ones that 
think I'll put out because I'm desperate."  She started to whimper 
again.   "And I'm ugly and I have to shave every day and... and... and 
... it not fair!" she started to wail.  I held her, knowing it was 
damage control time.  Her self-image was worse than mine.  

She cried herself asleep in my arms, or more correctly, holding onto me 
with a death-grip.  I was able to pull a cover over us, and lay there 
quietly, my head on her shoulder.  I guess the strain got to me, or 
maybe it was her musky warmth, but soon I dozed off too.

I awoke to someone whispering in my ear.  "Earth to Valerie, this is 
mission control, come in please..."  My eyes snapped open when I 
realized it was not Debbie, and tried to pull away.  Andi was wrapped 
around me, and easily held me in place until I stopped twitching.  We 
were face to face, almost naked, with her legs intertwined with mine.  I 
almost panicked again when I noticed I was hornier than hell.  At least 
things were still tucked painfully away in my panties. 

Andi grinned at me.  "Thank you for holding me, I really needed to let 
it out."  I nodded.  I needed to let something out, and it was wasn't 
just emotional.  OUCH.  I had been away from Debbie far too long.  Andi 
rolled away from me, stretched, and hopped off the bed, tossing the 
covers off.  She stared at the bulge in my panties.

"You too?"  I nodded guiltily, and tried to grab the covers.  She 
playfully yanked them away.  Her nipples were swollen and hard.  I had 
trouble ignoring  some really kinky thoughts.  She peeled off her bike 
shorts, revealing a very puffy, blonde bush.  "I'll take the first 
shower, so don't take too long" she said with a grin.  Licking her lips, 
she fondled herself for a moment with obvious pleasure before 
disappearing into her bathroom.

You've heard of Speedy Gonzales?  Hello Rocket Man.  I managed to get 
undressed and cleaned up before she popped back into the room.  Her 
knowing glance at my crotch made me blush.  She had a silly grin, and I 
swear she was glowing.  Pulling out some plain cotton undies, exercise 
shorts, and another sports bra, she quickly dressed. 

"I'll go put your stuff in the drier.  Clean towels are under the sink. 
Check the bottom drawer under the printer..." She looked around the room
at several printers. "Make that the big laser in the corner, there may
be something there that fits."  She bounced out.

At least her house had lots of hot water.   Once I was completely clean, 
and mostly dry, I came out wrapped in a towel.  She still was not back, 
so I checked the drawer she suggested for clothes.  

The short-legged spandex exercise unitard was a near-perfect fit, once I 
was tucked away.  It was, however, very figure-hugging. I looked almost 
sexy.  "Stop that" the little voice in the back started up. I massaged 
my breasts through the shiny material, and the little guy crawled back 
into hiding.

Andi returned with a tray of snacks and more Pepsis.  "Looking good, 
good looking." was her comment.  My nipples got harder, and I think the 
blush reached my toes.  "The drier will take about half an hour."  I 
nodded, reaching for a piece of cheese.  "So do you make all the girls 
that horny?"

She had to pound me on the back until the cheese popped out of my 
windpipe.  "Sorry about that."  I nodded through watery eyes.  Breathing 
slowly was a good idea.  "I meant it as a compliment." 

"Mostly they treat me like one of them"  I started slowly, this time 
taking tiny bites "except Debbie."  She nodded.  "And I don't fool 
around on Debbie".  Not if I wanted to live.  And I had not fooled 
around here, yet.  But I was tempted, relative or not.  

We ate and chatted about me and girls and her and boys, then me and boys 
and her and girls.  It surprised me when she said she was still a 
virgin.  She seemed to be the uninhibited type.  She refused to comment 
about being intimate with other girls.  But the blush that crept over 
her made me wonder.  

After she brought me my clean clothes, she told me I could keep the 
unitard. "Mom bought it, thinking it would give me a better figure, but 
it sure doesn't fit me."  It was completely hidden once I was dressed.  
But the constriction made my waist smaller and my walk more feminine.  
Oh well.  

It was then I glanced at the time. 4:45PM.  And I was supposed to meet 
up with everyone at five.  After slowing my babbling down to a small 
flood, Andi grabbed clean warm-ups and her keys, and soon we were 
zooming through traffic while I closed my eyes and prayed.  I hoped the 
deflector shields were at maximum.  It was a couple of minutes past five 
when she pulled up near our minivan.  I climbed out, and as the entire 
family watched, she hollered out as she drove off "Give me a call 
tonight."  

Susan was miming being strangled.  Mom and Dad looked both scared and 
relieved.  Brian looked disgusted.  One of four was not too bad.  As we 
climbed into the van, Mom started in on me.  I decided I was not ready 
for the third degree.  It was time for a diversion, and I was feeling 
particularly mischievous.

"I'll tell you about my date with him after dinner, so quit bugging me."  

"Date?...  Him!!!..." Mom and Dad began sputtering like dropped soda 
cans.  Brian gave me a horrified look.

I had started singing the main lines to "Only Sixteen" when Susan went 
into a laughing fit, which diverted their attention.  My fingers in her 
ribs may have helped.  When she finally calmed down Mom was ready to 
start in again when Dad pointed out we had reservations.  

"Eugene, quit teasing your mother and me like that."  I think there was 
a bit of pleading in his voice.  

"Moi?  Besides, who's teasing... Urf.."  Susan's elbow in my ribs cut 
off any further comments.  Dad exchanged a hopeless look with Mom as 
Susan and I began a quiet but energetic tickle war in the back seat.  
The unitard actually helped.  It was so tight that she couldn't get a 
grip.  Brian squeezed over as far as he could, trying to avoid the 
combat zone.  

By the time we reached the restaurant, Susan and I were out of breath 
and thoroughly mussed.  She headed for the ladies room to fix her face, 
and I followed.  I was almost in the door when she bounced me into the 
door-frame.  "Ahem" she hissed, pointing at the logo on the door.  I 
beat a hasty retreat.  At least neither Mom nor Dad was watching.  But 
some stuffy old ladies gave me the once-over as I headed for the men's 
room.  Making sure no one else was around, I managed a swish that would 
make a hooker proud just before I entered.  I hoped they had their heart 
medicine with them. 

When I came out they were gone, and I waited for Susan.  We rejoined the 
family in the waiting area, and just as Mom started to ask me something, 
the maitre'd announced "Tucker, party of five."  Someone was watching 
over me.  Our booth was in a quiet spot near the back.  I wound up 
between Susan and Dad.  It was a wide table, so I was out of the reach 
of Brian's feet.  

When I looked at the menu, the name was strange.  'Maghreb'  It did not 
ring a bell.  The inside listed mostly dishes I had never seen before.  
The descriptions of some were interesting.  I was not sure how much I 
could eat.  I finally selected one of the featured dishes, a lamb 
couscous with harissa, Tunisian style, which was supposed to be spicy.   
Everyone seemed to want something different.  Brian wanted a hamburger.  
Dad threatened to make hamburger out of him.  He settled for some type 
of lamb stew.  

The sweet, iced mint tea that came with the meal was excellent.  I 
planned on seeing if Debbie would appreciate it.  The almond-studded 
dates, served covered in honey, looked decadent.  I did not expect the
pungent, spiced fig stuffing.  Food like this had to be immoral.  I knew 
it was fattening.  By the time dinner was finished I had an appreciation 
of North-African cuisine.  And their idea of spicy.  It tingled on the 
way down, gave a time delay singe to the mouth, and left me with a warm, 
full feeling.  I did not think about further travels.  I could only 
nibble at the fruit and almond pudding served for dessert.  

We staggered out to the minivan, and I slid in next to Susan.  By the 
time Mom and Dad were fully buckled in and ready to go I was asleep.  I 
guess they carried me inside when we got home.  It was late when I woke 
up, fully dressed on my bed.  I carefully made a dash to the bathroom, 
seeing nobody.  Once I was undressed, I realized how tight that exercise 
suit had been.   With the pressure released, back to bed was all I could 
manage.  I was asleep again in seconds.  



Chapter 5

Friday dawned hot and clear.  I had been up since about five, and after 
checking my e-mail, which was entirely garbage, not even a note from 
Debbie, I watched the news.  And thought about yesterday.  I realized 
that I had not called Andi, and figured that it was too early to try.  

Today's plans were to visit the historic city center area of 
Philadelphia.  Something in the back of my mind said that it was a bad 
idea to be in Philadelphia on a hot day, but I could not place it.  I 
figured it might be a good idea to find something at least somewhat 
interesting to visit, so I re-connected the laptop and started a search.  

The results were weird.  If I was a history buff I would be in hog 
heaven.  For a technogeek, it looked really dry.  At least there were so 
many things to see, I would not be completely bored.  A nice, quiet 
shower brought me to six-thirty, and I remembered Andi had her own 
telephone line.  

"Brinnggg, Brinnggg Br click. Heblo, Herbleo, Hello, this is Andi..." 
She sounded like I usually felt in the morning. 

"Hi, this is Tuck.  Sorry to wake you.  I had promised to call you last 
night, remember, but I fell asleep."

"Tuck?" a pause "Oh, er, Hi Valerie, gimmie a minute, gotta head for the 
loo-"  I heard the phone hit the bed, and the sound of someone tripping
and cursing as they dashed from the room.  It was more than a minute 
later when she picked up the phone again.  

"Damn router box savaged me again.  So what got you up so early?"

"We went out to dinner at some place called Maghreb, and the food was 
really rich and I fell asleep on the way home and they put me to bed and 
I never woke up."   I ran out of breath realizing that the sentence was 
far too long.  

"Maghreb?  Wow.  Their food's fantastic.  Did you try any of those funny 
almond and date appetizers?"

"Yeah, they must be illegal, they were that good.  So what did you want 
to talk about last night?"

"Are we going to be able to get together again before you head back 
home?"  I thought I heard a pleading in her voice.  "I really want to 
talk more on how you are handling this and see if there is anything I 
can learn that will make my life a bit easier, especially with my 
parents."  

I was thinking that moving out was the only thing that would help our 
parental problems, but didn't voice it.  "Well, today we are scheduled 
to visit downtown Philadelphia, and tomorrow we get to wander along the 
Atlantic City beaches while my Dad and Mom try their hands at the 
Casinos."

"Did you say you were going to be in Philly on a day like today?"  I 
heard astonishment in her voice.  "It's supposed to be damn near a 
hundred degrees, which means it will be a steam-bath there.  You'll 
wilt.  And Philly stinks, literally, when it gets that hot."  

"Once the parents have decided to go, it's pretty much a done thing."  
That was an understatement.  "So any suggestions?"

"Find an air-conditioned museum or exhibit, drink lots of Gatorade, and 
stay out of the sun."  Sounded like good advice.  "See if you can figure 
any way to get free Saturday.  I know my parents won't let me go to 
Atlantic City, not since I got booted out of a casino for being underage 
last summer."

"Booted out?" This sounded interesting.

"It's a long story, but I was actually winning big and someone decided 
to check my ID.  They made my parents come all the way to the casino to 
verify who I was, and then gave my winnings to them."

"Did you get them back?"

"No, dammit.  They put the money in my college fund, and then made me 
pay the taxes out of my allowance."  

"Sounds like they were a bit peeved."

"And then they grounded me for two whole weeks.  You'd think I had done 
something antisocial, like when I let loose a box of mice at one of 
Mom's antique shows."

That idea sounded good to me.  I had to remember it.  "Bummer.  So I 
will try to call you this evening.  Is there a 'too late' time?"

"I usually don't get to sleep before around midnight, especially on a 
Friday.  One of the guys from school sometimes takes me dancing at a
club in New Jersey where they don't serve alcohol, and it closes at two 
in the morning."  Dancing sounded like fun.  I wondered if I could sneak 
out and join them.

"What time does the dancing start?"  I think I sounded a bit too eager.

"The club opens early, but we never get there before nine."  She paused. 
"Are you thinking of escaping for the evening?, cause this club is a bit 
on the radical side, and you might find the people pretty strange."  

"I can dance to anything from Bach to Nine-Inch Nails.  How strange is 
strange?"  Visions of a bunch of Metallica types did not faze me.  Not 
after visiting the clubs where Jack and his friends played.

"Well, it's like this.  See, my friend, well, he's gay, and a lot of the 
people there are gay or sort of on the fringe, or transvestites, and you 
might have problems the way you look."

"Been there, done that.  The guy who does my hair is gay.  Are the bands 
any good?"  After dealing with Julia's Dad's support group, and the Gay 
Cafe, I was used to cross-dressers.  Who was I to complain anyway.

"Usually really good, the house band is old style rock, and plays some 
blues and heavy metal."  

"What if I went as Valerie?"

I could almost hear her thinking.  "It would probably work, as there are 
always more guys than girls, at least genetic ones."  

"Well, when should I give you a call if I can get free?"

"As early as possible, but before nine, because I will be leaving by 
then if we go."

"Well, I will try to give you a call one way or another.  OOPS, I 
forgot, do they allow smoking at the club?  I'm really allergic."

"The whole place is non-smoking.  Something about fire regulations and 
the fact they allow sixteen-year-olds in."  She paused  "Uh, do you have 
ID?  Because they do check.  It really won't matter if it shows you are 
male."

"Sure do.  I'm going to try to get free.  At least there I won't die of 
boredom."

We exchanged amenities, and I hung up.  I hoped that we would get back 
in time for me to escape.  But nine was a bit early for Mom and Dad to 
crash.  

Susan got up to take a shower around seven, and dragged me into the 
bathroom with her.  

"We need to talk, and I know we won't be interrupted in here."  She
peeled off her sleeping clothes and got ready for her shower.  It had 
been years since I had seen her completely naked.  She looked just like 
me, well, mostly, only with more curves.  

"Quit staring at me like that."  She said as she covered her crotch.  

"It's like I'm looking in a mirror."  A mirror into my future.  Except 
for what she was covering.  I hoped.

She shrugged and turned away.  She really did have a cute butt.  "I 
talked to Mom and Dad last night, and made up some excuses for you so 
they wouldn't freak out.  So listen carefully and you won't tell them 
anything they haven't already heard."  She paused, trying to get a bunch 
of tangles out of her hair.  I got up, grabbed the brush, and took over 
the process.  She didn't object.

"I told them that Andi was a distant relative that you had corresponded 
with on the 'Net and that Andi was really a girl.  I explained her 
appearance by saying she was the athletic type and took her training 
seriously.  I think they believed me.  Ouch, hey, that's attached."  I 
was trying to remove a knot near her scalp.  I wondered if John, 
Debbie's gay hairstylist, would give her a discount.  She really needed 
his help.

"Did you clear up the 'date' part?"

"I just attributed it to your normal level of obfuscation.  Mom got 
upset, but Dad thought it a good touch."  Ahh, geek power.

I finished her hair, and she started the shower.  "Now get out of here.  
I want to shower in private."  Something clicked.  The showers all had 
flexible massage heads.

"It works best on the fast pulse setting if you turn the pressure way 
down," I quipped as I ducked out.  I would swear I could see her change
colors by the glow under the door.  Must have been right on the money. I 
grinned. I headed for my room to finish getting ready.

I made sure that Susan was warned about the weather.  She was much more 
pleasant after the shower, but blushed and tried to cream me with a 
towel when I made massaging motions towards my nether regions.  But she 
was laughing.  

The day went as I had expected.  I dressed as lightly as possible, and 
carried a water bottle.  It was not a steam bath.  More like the inside 
of a dumpster on a hot day.  Complete with flies and more pan-handlers 
than I had ever seen.  The city of brotherly love needed a bath, and 
probably a shot or two of Penicillin.  By mid-afternoon Mom and Dad had 
wilted, and Brian was too drained to bother anyone.  Susan had, at my 
urging, found a wide-brimmed hat, and although we were both hot, we were 
okay.  

Because we stayed at a distance from the sweat-soaked trio, the comments 
from passing guys and the occasional clerk about us being sisters did 
not cause any significant problems.  I realized by the afternoon that 
Susan was actually enjoying how much we resembled each other.  Maybe she 
enjoyed having a sister.  It had possibilities, at least for my 
continued survival.  

It was only three when Dad called us together, in an air-conditioned 
location, and pleaded 'nolo contendere' to it being too hot to continue.  
Mom looked like leaf lettuce left in the sun.  After a break for 
liquids, we headed for the minivan, waited until the air-conditioning 
had cooled it to below melting temperature, got in, and headed for the 
condo.  We made it home before five.  For once it was Brian who was
hopping from foot to foot, and made the mad dash when the door opened.  

Mom was complaining of a massive headache, and after drinking a lot more 
water, took some Motrin and headed for bed.  Brian was already showered 
and in his room.  That left Me, Dad, and Susan.  Unfortunately, Dad 
looked wide awake.  And he was staring at us.

I turned and headed for my room before things got sticky.  I knew Dad 
was keeping up on my medical problems, but I think he had suddenly 
realized how much Susan and I looked alike. I was afraid of being 
treated as some kind of freak, rather than who I was.  Pity I did not 
need.  I was scared.  Just not certain of what I was supposed to be 
scared of.

A little later Susan knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to talk.  
I really didn't, but I had the feeling that she wanted to more than I 
didn't.  

"Come in" she came and sat at the foot of my bed. "Is it you, or Dad?"

"He's worried about you Tuck, he knows you're changing, and, and- well, 
he's afraid that you won't be able to handle things."  She paused. "And
neither Mom or Dad know how to help you and they feel frustrated because 
they can't fix anything."  

"I'm not broken, sis, I'm just not put together quite right."  That 
sounded wrong.  "Physically, that is."  Lame attempt at a save.

Susan giggled at my faux paux.  "Their inability to help really bothers 
them.  And Dad really doesn't know how to show his love for you.  But he 
really cares, and it's hurting him to watch you go through this."

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes.  I guess the bonding between 
father and son wasn't all that it should be.   Technically we were
compatible, emotionally we were worlds apart.  I started to cry, and 
soon Susan was holding me like I was a little kid again.  It helped.  

"So what do you think I should do?"  This was the million dollar 
question.  "Valerie would make them freak, and knowing about the genetic 
stuff would only make them feel responsible."  Susan nodded, then shook 
her head.

"I'm not sure about it, especially the genetic part. They already feel 
guilty, without any specific reason."  She looked thoughtful.  "But you
need to let them know you love them and that you are okay with what's
happening."  She paused.  "They feel left out of your life.  You don't
have to bare your soul, but they know there is so much you are hiding
from them."  

There was much I was hiding from Susan, too.  And I was tired of hiding.  
But I was not ready to open up my can of worms.  Mainly 'cause I was not 
ready to face them either.

"Do you think Dad can accept that I need to have a lot of personal space 
these days, and that I am being careful and won't do anything stupid?"  
Susan sat there thinking.

"Yeah, mostly.  Mom wants to keep you hidden under her wing from the big 
bad world of reality.  And Dad's been following her lead because he 
doesn't do emotional stuff real well."  She looked absorbed.  

"Part of it goes something like this.  Mom is both afraid of and hoping 
that you and Debbie have been, well, intimate..." I blushed.
"...because she's scared that maybe you're gay and won't admit it, and
she really wants to talk to you about it but is afraid of putting more
stress in your life.  And I think Dad wants to give you a Father-Son
talk but doesn't know how.  And they sit around and worry when you are
gone from their sight because they think up all kinds of really scary
scenes about what might happen."

This I understood.   Way too well.  "So I should tell them that I'm 
sleeping with Debbie?"  OOPS.  Well, Susan had probably figured that out
already anyway.

"Hell no!  Just don't openly lie about it or disappear like you did 
yesterday.  It makes them crazy."

"Let me think about it." Susan gave me another hug and left quietly.  
Life was getting complicated again.

It was seven-thirty when I decided I needed another soda.  Susan was 
nowhere to be found, but Dad was sitting on the sofa reading.  So much 
for sneaking out.  The little voice inside said "tough luck, sucker".  I 
shook it out of my head.  If I had wanted a second opinion I would have 
asked for one.

"Dad"

He looked at me "Yes, Eugene..." putting his book down.

"You know Andi, the relative I was with yesterday?  Well, see, she has 
invited me to go dancing with her tonight, and I really need to do 
something really fun..., and the place she wants to take me does not 
allow smoking or drinking, and caters to kids our age."

"Eugene, I don't know anything about her, since you neglected to tell us 
about her, or that you were going to be meeting her."  This was not 
sounding good.  

"Well, I found her when I was doing some genealogical research, and when 
I found out that she is a relative of both you and Mom"  I paused, 
thinking of a way to keep from disclosing too much.  "I looked her up on
the Web and we started corresponding."  Completely true. So far.

"Anyway, when she found out I was heading this way on vacation, she 
pointed out that she lives here in Wilmington, and since we are both 
computer geeks with similar interests, we decided to try and meet and 
get to know each other."

"So what do you now about her? How old is she?"

"She's the same age as me, and is also about to start her junior year.  
She is really into the martial arts, with a black belt in, I think, both 
Akido and Tai Kwan Do."  I was guessing at which disciplines.  "And
she's into working on her car, and networking computers, and she really
wants me to meet some of her friends who will be at the dance."

"What about her parents?  Do they know you are visiting her?"  

"They both work.  He owns his own business, and she works for the 
Government in some sort of hush-hush job Andi couldn't tell me about." 
Mainly because I did not ask.  "And she's pretty independent and 
trustworthy, so she probably has told them."  I hoped.  He looked 
skeptical.

"Dad, I'm sixteen, so is it really necessary to give me the third 
degree, especially since I'm asking instead of trying to sneak out the 
back door?"  I hoped he didn't remember there was no back door to the 
condo, only a fire exit.  He seemed to be pondering this last statement 
carefully.

"I really should talk with your mother about this..."

"Dad, she already has a headache.  Do you really want to make it worse?  
And if she gets upset you'll have a headache too."  This I knew from 
experience.  He nodded.

"How late would you be out?"

"Well, she says the place opens fairly early, she usually gets there at 
around nine, and it closes at two on Friday nights.  And the band is 
supposed to be really good and plays a lot of rock and roll."  Appealing 
to his sense of music couldn't hurt.  

He sat there thinking, and I checked my watch.  It was getting close to 
eight, and I needed to call Andi soon.  

"Eugene, you've been doing okay over the summer, and I doubt if we will 
be coming back here anytime soon, so I guess that if you are going to 
get together this will be your last chance."  I nodded agreement, a 
pleased look on my face. "If," he emphasized the if, "you give me her
number in case of emergencies, the name and address of where you will be 
going, and promise to be home by no later than three, I'm willing to let 
you go with her."  

"But, if you get in trouble or don't get back on time without a really 
good excuse you will be grounded for at least two weeks beginning the 
day we get back."

Ouch, he sure knew how to hurt someone.  Two weeks at the beginning of 
school, and when I'd been away this long from Debbie would be rough.  I 
had to think about it.

"It's a deal.  I'll give Andi a call and get the information."  We shook 
hands, and Dad, shaking his head, went back to reading.  But I noticed 
that he was not turning the pages.

I headed for my room, and tried Andi's number.  She answered on the 
second ring. "Well, did you get free?"  Ahh... Caller ID. 

"Yep, and with my Dad's permission no less.  I need to know the name of 
where we will be, the address, and the phone number, just to keep him 
happy." I jotted it down on a scrap of paper.  "I'm going to have to 
change once I leave, so is there somewhere we can go?"  

"Hmmm..." She was silent for a minute. "You can probably change at 
David's place."

"David?"

"My gay friend..."

"Ohh..." Time to engage the brain. "Anything I should or should not 
wear?"  Not that I had many choices.

"Well, the dancing gets pretty intense, and unless you want to call a 
lot of attention to yourself, either wear pants, pantyhose or a longer 
skirt.  The place is really well air conditioned, so I doubt if you will 
overheat."  

"Uhm, how much money will I need to bring?"  I had plenty, but did not 
like carrying too much.

"The cover is ten dollars, and they really soak you for sodas and food.  
I usually eat before I go, and carry around thirty dollars, but then I 
probably snack a lot more than you do."  

The cover was steep, but not that much different than the clubs back 
home. "Sounds good.  Let me give you my address."  I had to look on the 
telephone for the street and unit number.  "When will you be here?"

"I'll pick you up at eight-thirty." 

"Shit, I forgot, I told my dad that you were a girl, so can you, 
well..."  She interrupted me with a snort.

"Yeah, I'll wear a skirt and change at David's.  Got to run if we are 
going to be on time."

I hung up the phone, and hoped I could manage to carry out a set of 
Valerie clothes without raising Dad's suspicions.  He was actually 
reading when I gave him the slip with the club's information.

I took me a few minutes to shower and change.  Underneath I was Valerie,
but pants and shirt covered the evidence.  I put the boots, shoulder 
bag, and long skirt into my pack, and covered them with a spare shirt. I
figured I could use the excuse that I was carrying extra clothes in case
I dumped a Coke on myself.  That, Dad would understand.  I made it out
the front door about five minutes early, and  was standing by the curb
when Andi pulled up.  She was the only one in the car.  

Andi had braided her hair, and was wearing a really short mini-skirt 
that showed off her legs.  From where I was sitting she looked pretty 
good.  Soon, we pulled into an apartment complex.  "Grab your stuff and
follow me," was all she said.  I had trouble keeping up with her.  And
watching her legs and tight butt was making me horny.  

Andi knocked on a second-floor door, and a tall, drop-dead gorgeous girl 
wearing a long, soft leather dress ushered us in.  "Hi Andi,  Greg will 
be ready in a few minutes."   She looked me over like I was edible.  
"And did you bring this cute little lady along to keep me company?"  She 
wriggled towards me with a come-hither look that promised all sorts of 
forbidden delights.  I tried to hide behind Andi, who was giggling.

"Cool it Gracie, he's not your type."  The tall girl stopped with a 
startled expression.  "And he's not Greg's type either,"  

"No way.  You're just teasing me, right?"  She started back towards me, 
hungrily.   Andi motioned at her to stop.    

"Valerie." she pulled me around in front of her. "Meet Gracie, the
unrepentant teen-queen Dyke of Northern Delaware."  She looked at me.  
"So Valerie, you have nothing to fear from her.  It's me she really 
wants,"  Andi did a bit of a vamp at her, "and I'm not on tonight's
menu." Gracie gave her a dirty look.

Andi turned to me.  "You need to get changed.  Use the spare bathroom, 
1st door on the left down the hall."  I headed that way with my pack.  
"I'll guard the door for you."  I felt a bit better.  

It took me several minutes to calm down, and then I had to hurry to get 
ready.  I was not sure how feminine I wanted to look around Gracie.  
Deciding that I was better off being as convincing as possible, I went 
with the braless cotton top and rather strong makeup.  The result was 
pretty wild.  I hoped Andi could keep Gracie in check.

Greg had joined them when I came out.  He was not your stereotypical gay 
guy.  All six feet four of him.  He was a hunk.  Andi had changed, 
somewhere, into a pair of painted-on-tight stretch daisy dukes and a 
crop top.  It showed off her muscles really well.  She looked 
androgenous, except for her hair.  

"Valerie, meet Greg, who, unlike Gracie, usually behaves in a civilized 
manner."  She glared at Gracie, who looked a bit sheepish.  "Greg is my
former wrestling teammate from high school, and Gracie's eternal 
housemate."  He smiled infectiously at me.   "Greg, meet Valerie, my 
distant relative from the Midwest."  

Greg leaned down, smiled, and held out a huge, manicured paw.  "Nice 
meeting you Valerie."  He looked me over   "I now know why Andi warned 
me about you, and told me I'd wind up in the river if I misbehaved."  I 
smiled shyly at him.  He reminded me a bit of Travis, with more style.  

He looked at Gracie.  "Andi said -he-," pointing at me, "was like
-her-," pointing at Andi, "only in reverse.  And she sure wasn't
kidding."  He stared at my chest, and I blushed.  "Those are real,
aren't they?"

I nodded, feeling like a spotlight. 

"And you're straight."  I nodded almost too vigorously. "Too bad for
Gracie."  He chuckled heartily.  "Well, you sure won't have any trouble
finding dance partners tonight, they'll be lining up in droves for a 
pretty little thing like you."  I was not sure I liked the idea. 

"Don't worry, Valerie. Between Greg, Andi and me nobody will bother 
you."  This was Gracie speaking. "Unless they want their gizzards
ripped out.  Let's get going, it looks like a good night to let loose."
With that she headed for the door.  The view was excellent.  She had 
curves everywhere that Andi didn't.  I wondered if I could find a dress 
like that for Debbie.

Instead of Andi's beater we got into an older Ford Explorer, which was 
automatic everything.  After making sure we were all buckled in, Greg 
pulled out of the parking area and smoothly into traffic, and began 
talking.

"I bet you had your eyes closed most of the way here," he remarked.
"'Cause I know how Andi drives, and none of us will go with her unless 
we're desperate."  Andi started to protest, but Greg continued.  "So 
what brings you to our little corner of the country?"

I wound up giving then a condensed version of the vacation from hell 
scenario.  Everyone was laughing when I mentioned the heat in 
Philadelphia.  We were headed east on an expressway, and soon crossed a 
bridge into New Jersey.  

"Delaware is a bit stuffy about alternate lifestyles, but the Jersey 
side has some really fun places to visit."  This from Gracie. "And where
we are going is one of the best.  It's clean, alcohol free, and really 
rocks."  I saw her look at Andi with a grin. "And Andi and Greg are 
planning to make everyone jealous when they hit the dance floor."  Now 
Andi was grinning.

"See Valerie, Greg and I have been roommates ever since our parents 
found out we were both gay, and kicked us out of our houses.  When Greg 
found Andi in tears following her disqualification last year, he brought 
her over to our place and spent a long time trying to convince her that 
love was a lot more that rubbing a boy and girl scout together.  It took 
her a while to get it through her thick skull," Andi made razzing
noises, "that real friends don't care if you are half guy and half girl.
Just as long as you are not a half-wit."  Greg and I both groaned aloud
at the bad pun.  Andi hissed at her.

I thought about Mike and Debbie and the pack, and the boyz and started 
to tear up.  "Are you okay, Valerie?" Andi reached over to me.  

"Yeah, just thinking how my friends have the same attitude."  I paused.
"And none of them is gay, although a couple of the girls are definitely 
Bi." Thinking of Debbie and Lisa.  I watched Gracie's radar perk up.
"But they already have partners, Gracie".  She chuckled.

We pulled into a parking lot at what appeared to be a defunct shopping 
mall.  There were several hundred cars there, and groups of people our 
age were streaming into one entrance.  They were dressed from gothic to 
acid head, seasoned with the ocasional preppie.  We fit right in.  I was 
pretty sure that Darth Vader would not be given more than a passing 
glance.

The line moved quickly, and I could feel the musical beat from inside.  
True to Andi's warning, they carefully checked ID's, took our money, and 
stamped our hands.  Greg gave me a really strange look when he saw my 
stamp, and pointed to a sign.  "Blue handstamps must use the MENS 
restrooms.  Pink handstamps must use the WOMENS restrooms.  This is a 
city ordinance."  My handstamp was pink, like Andi and Gracie's.  "I
thought Andi said...."

I showed him my new Valerie ID.  He grabbed Gracie and Andi and pointed 
to it.  "How..."

"Don't ask and I won't have to kill you after I tell you."  Brave reply 
for someone half his size.  The all started laughing, and I carefully 
put the ID in my shoulder bag.  One long hallway later and we entered 
what must have once been a huge department store.  

Gracie shouted "Follow me!" and  headed for some tables near the band.
I realized that I looked like someone's little sister next to the three
of them.  I had to run to keep up.  A loud, "Gracie, over here!" caused
us to change directions.  Soon we were sitting at a table with friends
of Gracie's and Greg's, all who seemed to know Andi.

"Who's your new friend, Gracie?" came from a petite, almost effeminate
young man.  I noticed the pink handstamp, and recognition hit. 

"Tommie, this is Valerie.  Valerie, this is Tommie."  She paused. "And
Valerie is not gay, so keep your hands off her."  Tommie smiled. 

"Well, can I at least ask her to dance, since she is the only one here 
that's my size?"  

Andi looked at me.  "Tommie really is a great dancer...."  The band 
drowned out any further sounds.  The bass run from Deep Purple's "Smoke 
on the Water'  at 100 plus decibels made the place vibrate.  

Tommie came over, smiled, and extended his ?her? hand.  I shrugged, and 
we headed for the dance floor.  Gracie hollered, "I'll watch your
stuff," as Andi and Greg also headed for the floor.

Tommie took the lead, and I found myself enjoying the music and her 
company.  I did not even mind when she got close and personal, it felt 
right.  After the third cut we headed back to the table to give Gracie a 
break.  She was talking with a husky girl wearing motorcycle leathers, 
and when we sat down they headed for the floor.  Tommie told me to sit 
tight, and disappeared.  I started to get nervous as a lot of guys, and 
several girls, were eyeing me, but Tommie returned quickly with a pair 
of cokes.  

Tommie turned out to be a pre-law student at a local university.    We 
were chatting about how she came to know Gracie and Greg when someone 
tapped me on the shoulder, and I almost jumped out of my skin.  I spun 
around and found myself face-to-face with the same wheel-chair bound 
Marine who had helped me in Washington.

"Hey, I didn't mean to startle you.  I just thought I would say hello 
and ask if you got back to your family on time."  I slumped back into my
seat, and managed an affirmative nod. He introduced himself to Tommie 
just as Nickie strode up.  She was wearing a full-skirted, laced-on 
latex dress and six-inch heels.  The dress left little to the 
imagination, but covered most of her tattoos.  She definitely had a 
woman's figure.  I saw Tommie and Nickie eyeing each other.  They headed 
for the dance floor.  That left Michael (I remembered his name) and me 
at the table.  

"So what's a nice young thing like you doing in a crazy place like 
this?" It was not a come-on line, simply a statement of fact.  

"I came here with a relative of mine and two of her friends,"  I paused,
looking over the dance floor for them, "and we ran into some friends of
her friends, and now I'm relaxing for a bit, since Nickie ran off with 
my dance partner."  He chuckled.  

"Nickie and I come here often.  She's a dancing fool, and though I can't 
dance anymore," he tapped his wheelchair "I really like music.  So where
is this relative of yours?"  A quick look gave no clues.  

"She'll be back eventually."  I looked at him.  "You and Nickie seem to 
be a pair."  He nodded.

"I met her when I was in the hospital at Bethesda while the VA was doing 
some routine repairs on me."  He tapped one leg. "And she had just been
medivaced in from Grenada."  He looked pensive.  "She didn't seem to be
that badly off, but they had her strapped down and sedated.  Because I 
was the only other Marine on the floor, and they knew I had come to
grips with my problems," his face hardened, "even though the process was
worse than combat.  They asked me if I would help.  Since I wasn't going 
anywhere fast, I agreed, and they told me what had happened.  She was a 
forward scout that got dropped in behind the lines, and took a big chunk 
of shrapnel right in the crotch.  

"By the time her buddies reached her she had gone nuts and decimated a
small garrison, then passed out, probably from losing so much blood.  I 
guess the company medic got sick when he saw what had happened to her, 
and when they told Nickie about her wounds in the field hospital she 
went psycho on them."  I was listening intently.

"And no, they don't have women marines on the front lines.  Back then, 
Nickie was Nicholas."  It was beginning to make some sense.  "So here 
was a macho, decorated combat marine, with his private parts shot off.   
He wanted to kill himself, because according to him, a man couldn't be a 
man without them." I cringed, the idea of anything happening to mine 
made things retreat. 

"So they kept him restrained and patched him up as best they could.  
Finally, they got around to sending in a shrink who was familiar with 
that type of injury.  And the more the shrink tried to help him, the 
more insanely macho he became.  Then one day the shrink asked if I knew 
why Victor had joined the marines, and I said that he had told me it was 
because he wanted to be a real man.  Like his father and grandfathers,
who were also Marines.  The shrink started to laugh, and I felt like I
had said something wrong.  

"He then asked me if I had ever met a guy who tried to be macho and
manly because he really was soft and tender and caring inside.  I gave
him a funny look, because I had been through that battle.   He explained
that he thought Nick was really more like a girl inside, and he was
desperately fighting against it, because it went against everything he 
had been raised to be.  It actually made sense of some of he things Nick
had been saying.  I agreed to help.

"Finally they brought in a specialist from the civilian community who
specialized in gender identity issues, and used me as a source of 
feedback.  One day I saw everyone rushing to Nick's room, and I figured
he had finally managed to try and kill himself.  But instead, I found
him sitting on the bed, hugging his shrink, and crying his eyes out. But
they seemed to be happy tears."  

I could see the emotion on Michael's face as he spoke.  His eyes were 
closed.  

"From that day on, Nick wanted to be called Nickie.  A lot of the
medical types and other patients really had a problem, but for some 
reason I felt it was right.  They stopped with the sedation and 
restraints, and, I guess because of the psychological trauma, sent 
Nickie to a civilian facility for further help.  We lost track of each 
other for a couple of years, and then I saw this stacked, six foot four 
woman wearing a miniskirt getting a prescription refill at the VA. I 
immediately recognized her and decided to say hello. I rolled over to 
her, and asked if she remembered me.  That almost got me a set of broken 
ribs from her hug, and a really wet shoulder from the tears.  

"She gave me a ride back to the shelter where I was living, took one
look and told me I was moving in with her.  She wouldn't take no for an
answer, and threatened to carry me off bodily.  So despite my 
objections, my few possessions and I were hauled away in her van.  I 
didn't believe the nice house she owned, and soon I was being fed and 
pampered.  Nickie told me that the VA had surreptitiously paid for 
reconstructive cosmetic surgery, which translated into a complete sex 
change operation, implants and all."  He was smiling.

"That was almost thirteen years ago, and we have been together ever 
since.  She'll mother's me half to death sometimes, and I love every 
minute of it."    

I looked around for a minute, during a pause in the music.  I spied Andi 
and Greg on their way back, and pointed them out.   They were almost to 
the table when a the band started Santana's Witchy Woman.  I pointed 
them out to Michael.  They had frozen when the music started.  Andi let 
out an howl like she was possessed, and people cleared a wide space, 
thinking she was about to go postal.  Then she and Greg started moving.  

Ever seen the movie "Dirty Dancing"?  They made it look like a church 
social.  Andi made Pam and Debbie look like pedestrians.  And Greg sure 
didn't look like a gay guy.  More like a horny football lineman.   I had 
not seen that much body contact outside a wrestling match.  By the time 
the music ended there wasn't a dry crotch in the place.  

The sweating pair made it back to the table and waved hi, but were too
winded to say anything.  I figured I should do an introduction, but then 
Nickie, Gracie, and Tommie returned, with a tray of sodas and snacks.  
The band seemed to have taken a break, so we all sat around and munched 
quietly.  I finally managed the introductions without problems.

When the music started back up, it was a slow piece, and Andi pulled me 
out of my seat onto the dance floor, leading of course.  It felt weird 
to rub bodies with a girl as strong as Travis.  And good.  Even though 
there was no cleavage to rest my head against.  We managed several
dances together, and I found I needed a bathroom break.  Andi understood
my urgency.  We grabbed our bags from the table, and headed for the
washrooms.  They were, of course, packed, but  Andi managed to 
commandeer a stall, and we exchanged places when she was finished. After
the obligatory makeup fix, well, for me at least, we headed back.  

Michael and Greg were in the middle of a heated conversation on the pros 
and cons of various martial art forms, and Tommie was on Nickie's lap, 
practicing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.  Gracie was eyeing me, making 
dancing motions.  Andi nodded at me, so Gracie and I hit the dance 
floor.  She didn't quite molest me, but I was painfully horny by the 
time we finished the second dance.  And she had enough cleavage to loan 
some to Andi.  

When the band leader announced the 15 minute before closing warning, 
Gracie grabbed Greg and Andi and shouted, "It's pumpkin time!"  Everyone
said quick good-byes, hugged, and we got out just before the mad rush.  

The drive back was quiet, probably because everyone was too tired to 
talk.  It had been a lot of fun.  Andi had good friends to help her, 
even if they were mostly gay.  I wondered if she would find a boyfriend 
that liked buff women.  Soon I was back to being Tuck, and headed home 
with Andi.  

"Thanks for coming, Valerie.  You made quite an impression." She paused 
"And you showed me that you can have fun regardless of how you are
dressed."  I felt good inside.  Even if I wasn't trying to do a good 
deed.  She dropped me at the condo office.  My watch said 0230.  I 
headed for the elevator.

Dad was waiting up for me when I came in.  "How was your evening?"  I 
gave him a big smile.  

"It was a lot of fun.  Andi and I danced and talked and I got to meet 
her friends, and I'm bushed.  And my feet hurt."  He chuckled.  "Does 
Mom know I went out?"  He nodded.

"She wanted to argue, but it made her headache worse.  So she gave up 
and went back to bed."  I almost felt bad, but I decided it was better 
her headache than mine.  I headed for a shower.  Bed was next.  I don't 
remember going to sleep.


Chapter 6

I was awakened by someone gently shaking me.  "Eugene, please wake up."  
It was Dad.  But Dad never got me up.  Unless there was something very 
wrong.  I almost jumped out of bed.  

"Wassa matter?" I tried to focus on his face.  It looked really 
strained.

"I just got a call from back home.  There was a big storm and Freehold's 
building took a direct lighting hit.  Blew out the building's wiring and 
caused a fire.  They got it out okay, and nobody was hurt, just scared, 
but there is no power and we're completely off line."  I could hear a 
bit of panic in his voice.  Freehold was his alone, and he treated her 
like one of us.  Perhaps sometimes better.  "I've managed to get two
tickets home for this morning, and, well, I may really need your
help..."  He was pleading, like he didn't think I would be willing to
help him.  

I gave him a big hug.  "I can be ready to leave in five minutes.  Is
that soon enough?"  He hugged me back, hard, and I thought I saw a tear 
or two leak out.  

"I have a cab coming in half an hour.  Your Mom, Brian and Susan will 
come back as soon as they can, so let's get going."

"Do they know if the surge got to the servers?" thinking of the worst.  

"No idea, but the phone lines are burned off at the pole across the 
street."

I cringed.  It had taken months to get each of the T-1's installed and 
working.  Dad headed out of the room, and I gathered everything into my 
suitcase, stowed my laptop in the carry-on, and dressed for travel.  
Everyone else had gone back to bed.  We were waiting when the cab pulled 
up.  At least Dad remembered to get a non-smoking one.  

It turned out that the only tickets available were 1st class, so the 
trip was actually comfortable.  Dad didn't want to talk, and I could see 
the stress building.  I thought about feeding him a valium, but I 
doubted he would appreciate the gesture.  I needed to call Debbie and 
Mike when I got back, to let them know where I was, and what was 
happening.  If I got a chance.

We had to divert around a line of storms, probably the same batch that 
nailed our home town, so we were nearly an hour late arriving.  Dad made 
several calls from the airport, and managed to remember where we were 
parked.  We quickly drove through streets littered with branches and 
leaves towards his building.  It had been some storm.  I hoped all my 
friends were okay.

When we pulled up I felt sick.  The power pole that had fed the building 
was a bunch of standing, blackened splinters, the transformers ruptured 
shells.  A line crew was getting ready to take it down.  A group of 
people, including several from Dad's office saw us and headed our way.  

They briefed Dad on what little they knew.  The fire had been confined 
to the utility room and main power panels, but there was smoke and water 
damage throughout the building.  Worse, the building's electrical system 
was completely fried, and the telephone switchgear was little more than 
charcoal.  Apparently there were engineers inside doing a damage 
assessment, and the fire department would not let us in until the 
building was declared safe.  I sort of stood on the edges and watched my 
father.  He looked like he had lost his best friend.  

It was nearly five when the inspection crew came out to meet us and the 
other tenants.  The initial news was not good.  It would take at least a 
month to rewire and repair the building.  Dad's area had minimal water 
and smoke damage, because the air conditioners were knocked out, 
shutting off the ventilation.  Dad asked how soon he could pull and 
check equipment, and was relieved to learn that he could start any time, 
but would be working by flashlight until temporary power and lighting 
were installed, probably in about a week. 

As if.

Pulling a flashlight from his car, we headed for the entrance.  It was 
dark and wet and really nasty smelling.  I think having played too much 
Doom made me skittish.  We were able to find several more flashlights in 
the maintainence area, and soon were disconnecting and packing up the
most important equipment.  There was some evidence of smoke, but very 
little water.  We made several trips out of the building with a 
handtruck full of his gear, and Dad pulled the most recent backup tapes 
from the fireproof safe.  We loaded the most important pieces into his 
car, and called a flatbed wrecker to haul the rest.  Then we headed 
home.

Our house seemed undamaged, and Dad made a beeline for the basement with 
the main server box and drive units.  I headed for the bathroom, and a 
telephone.  My first call was to Debbie, and got her answering machine.  
I tried her cell, but it said she was not on the air.  Finally I reached 
Mike, who was surprised to hear I was back, and said that everyone was 
fine, but that Debbie and Lisa and almost everyone else were working 
overtime doing storm cleanup for big bucks.  Capitalism was the bane of 
my love life.  

Mike was stuck answering phones for his father, who was out helping 
people from his church.  I was giving him the condensed rundown on Dad's 
place when a loud whoop came from downstairs, and I quickly said goodbye 
and ran to see if Dad was okay.

Sitting in the middle of the floor were Dad and the server.  It was 
plugged in, and on-line.  Dad looked like he had been given a reprieve.   
When he turned to me there were tears in his eyes.  It was a long hug.  
Even geeks sometimes need to cry.  

When he finally let me go, he smiled.  "They had just fininshed the 
weekly backup, so we have everything down to the last hour of operation.  
It looks like the surge didn't kill the servers, and the telco end is 
replaceable."  He looked pensive.  "Tomorrow I go looking for a new 
building.  With a lot of luck, we might be back up in a few days...."  
He looked like a kid who found the cookie jar refilled.  "I have to call 
your Mom and let her know."  He headed for a telephone, and I headed 
back upstairs.

I tried Debbie's cell again, and this time got through.  "D and E 
Enterprises, this is Debbie, how can I help you?"  

"This is Tuck, of Tucker and Valerie consulting." I paused.  T&V 
consulting.  TV consulting?  Too weird. Nah, no way...

"You're back!" I moved the phone away from my ear. "I've missed you so 
and the storm last night and..." another pause "And I love you and miss 
you and where are you so I can see you?"  

"I'm at home.  Dad's business took a direct hit and we came back early 
to assess the damage."

"Shit, I hope everything is all right.  Ellen and I just finished a 
cleanup job."  I could almost hear her thinking "And she can do the
last one so can I come over and be with you..."  I could feel the 
emotion in her voice.  I wanted her here now.

I figured Dad would not object.  He would want to check out each piece 
of equipment himself. "Dad will be working on what we salvaged most of 
the night, and the rest of the family won't be back until late 
tomorrow...  so..."  I left it hanging.  I had several ideas of what we 
could do.  Most of them involving close body contact.  But not with Dad 
here.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes.  Bye."  

I headed downstairs to tell Dad she was coming over.  He was absorbed in 
what he was doing.  I finally got his attention, and when I told him he 
smiled, then gave me a knowing look.  "Be discreet, stay out of trouble, 
and don't leave any evidence your mother might misconstrue."  He turned 
back to his work.  I think I closed my mouth by the time I reached the 
kitchen.  Did he mean what I thought he said?  I pulled a canned coke 
from the fridge, and headed to the living room to wait for Debbie.  

She was right on time, dressed in jeans and a work shirt.  She could 
have been dressed in a clown suit for all I cared.  We managed to 
separate when I had to come back up for air.  I pointed at my coke, and 
she nodded.  I got her one and we headed for my room.  

It was quite a bit later when we un-snuggled, still fully dressed, and 
she sat staring at me with that "I lust you" look.  I remembered that I 
had something for her.  It took a minute to dig all of the pieces out of 
my carry-on.  When I handed her my Valerie driver's license, her eyes 
got really big.  "How..."  I then handed her the rest of my collection.  
She stared at them intently, and suddenly looked frightened.

She started to cry, and pulled away from me.  "You've decided to become 
a girl, to have a sex change..." she gave me this terrified look "and 
that means we can't get married or have kids or, or...Bwahhhhh...!."  I 
pulled her back against me, wondering where she got that idea.

"Not a chance, love, they were given to me by someone who wanted to make 
my being Valerie a lot safer and easier."  She gave me a disbelieving 
look. 

"You can't get that stuff without going through all kinds of legal 
paperwork, and that requires a doctor and a lawyer and, and..." I tried 
tongue to tongue resucsutation to shut her up.  It worked.

"Check the birth certificate carefully."  She wiped her eyes on my shirt 
sleeve, leaving makeup.  It figured. I was wearing light colors.

Her expression changed from pained to confused.  "This is for your twin 
sister..., but you don't have a twin sister...." A light dawned.  

"Now I do, and she's a love-struck lesbian named Valerie."  Debbie 
pounced on me and almost crushed me with her hugs.  She was crying, but 
this time they were happy tears. 

"Easy on the boobs, will you?"  I pushed her carefully away and covered 
those most-sensitive tips with my hands.  

"But how...  These must have cost a fortune..." She looked at me like I 
had spent all of the money I had made over the summer, then wrapped 
herself back around me, gently this time.

"Well, it started on a bus trip to the capital..."  Even the abbreviated 
version took quite a while. I made her hold off on questions and 
details, claiming exhaustion. I finally disentangled from her, and 
pulled out the small package that Granniebelle had said was for Debbie.  
She looked at it suspiciously. 

"Granniebelle gave this to me to give to you with strict instructions 
not to open it.  She gave me another small package..." I fished it out
of the shoulder bag "...for me to open when I got home.  And I don't
think either is a bomb, as they both made it through the airport
scanners." She looked only slightly less apprehensive.  Then she looked
at her watch.

"Tuck, it's like way after eleven, and your Dad is going to start to 
wonder..."

Putting a finger to her lips, which she immediately started to suck on, 
causing all sorts of other reactions,  I recited verbatim what my Dad 
had said.

Her eyes got really big.  "Does that mean that he knows that we..."  

"I don't know for sure, but since he did not set any time limits, and 
told me not to leave any evidence, and I've missed you so much..." A 
troubling thought intruded.  "But when do you have to be home?"

"Mom is working a twelve-hour night shift because of the storm, and she 
knows I have been working late with Ellen and Lisa a lot, so..."  Debbie 
grabbed my headset, and proceeded to goof up dialing.  

I snorted, hit the master cutoff, and dug out a regular phone.  She took 
no time in calling Lisa, who agreed to provide a cover story.  When she 
hung up she was bouncing up and down like a six year old. "Tonight, All 
night, just the two of us...."  It had been way too long. This I needed.

Debbie held up her package.  "Who wants to go first?" 

I pointed at her. "Your package is bigger."

Slowly she opened the outer envelope.  There was another inside, covered 
with writing.  She read it out loud.  

"Deborah, or to use the familiar Debbie, since Valerie had told me so 
much about you I feel like we have met, the contents of this envelope 
are for you.  I know how hard it is for a young woman to succeed even 
today in the business world.   I was born to money, attended the best 
schools, married money, and still had to fight for the right to run my 
own business.  

"Valerie and Tucker both need you, perhaps more than you suspect, and
will need you even more over the coming years."  Debbie looked at me 
with tears in her eyes, but continued, "and I suspect you need them a
great deal as well.  Balancing one's school, career, and love life is a 
daunting task.  Through a trust or two I control, I have helped several 
young women on their road to success.  From what Valerie has told me you 
are at least as worthy as they."  Debbie sniffled as she turned the 
envelope over.

"This is not charity. It is an investment in your future career, and in 
your and Valerie's future.  All I ask is that if, no, make that when, 
you both achieve success, you pass a similar legacy on to some deserving 
young women, and give them a chance at a better life.

"With love to you both,

"Granniebelle."

Now I was crying too.  Several tear-soaked minutes later we pulled back 
apart, and Debbie carefully opened the inner envelope.  It contained a 
single, multi-page document with a notary seal.  She looked it over and 
sagged onto my bed.  "Oh my god, Oh my god..." was all she could get 
out. 

I took the document and started to read.  It was the paperwork 
establishing an irrevocable educational trust for Debbie, at a 
commercial bank in Delaware, to be administered by the bank in Debbie's 
interest, beginning when she graduated from high school.  The amount 
staggered me.  The room seemed to waver when I read one of the 
provisions. 

"Under the terms of this trust, the trustees are also charged to assist, 
within the resources available, Ms. Carstairs devoted friend, Valerie
Lynn Tucker, in supporting Valerie's education, upon Valerie's 
graduation from high school."  

"Wow," was all I could manage.  I had expected nothing like this.  The
endowment covered everything from books and tuition to medical care.  I 
looked at Debbie.  She looked back.  Then she looked at my envelope, and 
back at me.

"Tuck, the educational endowment is for Valerie...."  

I nodded. For some reason it did not surprise me.  What surprised me was 
that it did not upset me either.

I very slowly opened my envelope.  Inside was a simple note, and like 
Debbie's, another, smaller envelope.  

"Tucker, or more correctly Valerie.  By now you have probably seen the 
contents of my gift to Debbie.  If you have not, please wait to open
this.  

"Love,

"Granniebelle."

I read it to Debbie.  She made opening motions.  

I opened the inner envelope.  Inside were a pair of one-hundred dollar 
bills, wrapped in a note.  The note read:

"Take her to dinner."  

There was also a folded card.  When I unfolded it, I started to laugh, 
and couldn't stop.  Debbie grabbed the card and gave me a really strange 
look.  It was a recipe for Fried Chicken Murray.

When I finally calmed down, Debbie again started to undress me, and I 
immediately returned the favor.  Remember the old saying "Absence makes 
the heart grow fonder?"  That's not all it makes grow.  Debbie outlasted
me, but it was a close race.  She must have gotten more sleep the night 
before.  We fell asleep in each other's arms around three in the 
morning.  I guarantee we were smiling.