Bill Riley always tried to be an easy-going guy, but there were limits, and he could do what needed to be done, a characteristic required by his position at work. He wasn’t originally a Bradfordite, but a career man at General Hardware Retailers. He’d been sent to Bradford from the Denver office nine years before, to be distribution manager, the same position that Shae’s father, Mike Kirkendahl, held now. Mike had been transferred in to be shipping supervisor at about the same time. Since there were only a handful of people at the distribution center who thought in terms of their careers in the company rather than their careers in Bradford, they’d had something in common and became friends. In a job shuffle four years ago Bill had been promoted to general manager, and in the wake of that Mike had been promoted to Bill’s old job heading up distribution. There was another job shuffle on the horizon, in the next year or so, and that would take Bill out of town – the word "finally" frequently entering his thoughts, and right now it was sounding pretty damned good.

As he’d told Denis and Shae, it didn’t look good for the manager at General to be throwing his weight around, seeking special treatment for his kid. As General executives’ kids, he was pretty sure both knew that already, which was probably why Denis hadn’t come to him with these problems in the past. But, it wasn’t as if he weren’t aware that there were problems; he’d known that, and probably should have stepped in sooner, but he’d taken a little pride in his son trying to tough his way out of an obvious problem without seeking his help. He now realized he’d let that go much too long.

But, he and Arlene had long been aware that there was some deeper problem with Denis. He was a late child – Bill had been thirty-nine and Arlene thirty-seven when their son was born, ten years behind his older sister Sue and four years even further behind his still-older brother Tom. He realized even when Denis was very young that he was very different than Tom had been; Tom had been big and strong and outgoing, an athlete; Denis was small, interested in quiet things. Yes, girl things. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t heard the accusations that people thought Denis was gay, or at least going to be gay, because within a couple years he would not have been surprised to hear that announcement himself. For some time he’d seen that Denis was struggling with wanting to get something out. This was not at all what he’d expected.

Maybe – he hoped – this was something that was just the stress of the moment, taking an idle thought to extremes in a bout of anger. But somehow, he doubted it. What was clear was that Denis had blurted it out not to him and his wife, but to Shae. While the two were friends of a sort, no one would call them close friends – but then, perhaps she might still be the closest friend that Denis had. The only other candidate for him having a friend at all was Steve Sharp, and they were nowhere near as close. He looked at Shae holding on to him, his arm around her as she helped him into the house, still sobbing, but now not with anger and fear but with the relief that something long needing to be said had finally been aired. Maybe Denis felt he could come clean to Shae when he couldn’t to anyone else.

Shae was, let’s face it, a little strange herself. She was a good kid, a fair student, a fine athlete, but she was so tall that it made her have some different perspectives on things. She’d been tall for her age – nearly a year and a half older than Denis – when they’d first met nine years before. But then, her mother Joyce was six foot two and her father Mike six foot five, so to have her turn out anything under six feet would have been a surprise. No one had expected her to blow past her father’s height and still be growing. The amazing thing – her parents must have had something to do with it – was that she was not shy in the slightest about being tall. Bill remembered back to his school days, seeing tall kids, boys and girls alike, slouching as they walked down the halls, because they didn’t want to stand out. Seeing a girl close to six feet seven inches wearing four-inch platform heels – like she was now – sure wasn’t a kid trying to cover up being tall. But there was no doubt that in a lot of kids’ eyes it made her a freak, and perhaps a freak who Denis could identify with. Maybe this would be the lever Bill needed to get to the bottom of his son’s problem.

Denis and Shae collapsed on the couch, their arms still around each other, with him crying on her shoulder now. A lot of Shae’s height was in her very long legs, so she didn’t seem quite so intimidatingly tall sitting on the couch, but she was still a lot bigger than Denis. Arlene sat down next to them and put her hand on her son’s shoulder.

"Denis," Bill said as gently and warmly as possible as he sat down in his own chair a few feet away, "I’ve sensed for a while that you’ve wanted to tell us something, but this isn’t what I’ve been expecting. Please understand that I am not hurt or angered by it, but I’d like to know more about why you feel you ought to be a girl."

Denis let out a long, shaky-breathed sigh – the sobs were receding now, but he kept his head on Shae’s shoulder as she held him close. "I can’t tell you why," he said. "I just know I’ve always felt like I’m supposed to be a girl. I mean, always, as long as I can remember. I remember dreaming I could be one, going to bed at night praying that I’d wake up in the morning changed into a girl. I, uh, I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen. And then, oh, several years ago, I heard about that tennis player, Renee Richards, who had himself changed into a girl. I, uh, I haven’t exactly figured out how to do it, but at least after that I knew there was hope. I’ve spent some time in the school library trying to find out more about it, but there’s not much there."

"Doesn’t surprise me," Bill nodded. "You wouldn’t expect to find something like that in a high school library, I guess."

"I’ve never thought of it in quite that way until now," Arlene said thoughtfully. "But since you put it that way, I guess you have seemed a little feminine to me. I mean, you’re much more like your sister than your brother."

"Shae," he said softly. "You remember when we were little, and sometimes I’d be at your house to play, and how we always used to play with dolls?"

"Sure," she smiled. "I guess I never thought much about it. I mean, we never played with model cars or anything like that, it was always the dolls, at least when it was rainy and we were playing inside. You really used to like playing with my Barbies, dressing them and like that."

"I always envied you for them," he said. "I mean, I knew I was a boy, and wasn’t supposed to do that, but you were so lucky to be a girl so you could have them, so you could dress them up so pretty. I know back then I dreamed that I could be a girl. I remember one time – maybe we did it more than once, I’m not sure – we went up to your attic on a rainy day and dug out some of your old clothes that were way too small for you, and dressed me up like a girl."

"I remember," she said. "I guess I thought it was just playing."

"It was playing," he said. "But, well, I envied you so much for being a girl and being able to be dressed up so pretty. It was so neat! I could look at myself in that old mirror up there and imagine what I would look like if I really was a girl. It made me so happy! And then, I’d have to change back, and well, it was always sad to know that I couldn’t really be one."

"Denis," Arlene said softly. "Have you ever tried on my clothes?"

"No, Mom," he said. "Well, I’ve worn a jacket or something like that of yours once in a while, but that’s for warm, not for trying to dress like a woman. Besides the fact that your clothes are bigger than mine, all you wear is that funky old stuff like sweats and jeans that don’t make you look much like a woman. I mean, you’re a woman; you can wear all that neat stuff and do pretty things for yourself, but you don’t. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to dress up like a woman, but I don’t want to just dress like a woman, I want to be one."

Bill sat and looked at him for a moment. "Son, this is one of those questions that are hard to ask, and it’s especially hard knowing some of the things you’ve been called, but do you honestly think you’re gay?"

"No," he shook his head. "I mean, not like that. I mean, maybe I am. I know I’ve dreamed of being with guys, even, uh, I’m sorry, but I beat off thinking I was with a guy, but I always, and I mean always, dream of being a woman when it happens. And I never think of girls that way. I don’t know if that makes me gay, or what. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t, or maybe the word doesn’t cover it. I mean, I’ve never dreamed of being with a guy as a guy, and I’ve never dreamed of being with a woman as a guy."

"I don’t know," Bill said. "I mean, this is something I’ve never thought about, and even the idea is new to me. You realize that this is a damn serious decision, don’t you? I don’t know much about the process of a sex change, but I seem to recall that when the deed is done there’s no turning back. That makes it a pretty serious decision and one that can’t be made quickly, right?"

"I realize that," he said. "But I also realize that if I hadn’t had the hope of people like Renee Richards out there, I might have committed suicide by now. That’s the only thing that’s kept me going the last few years. I figured I’d try to muddle through high school before I could do anything about it."

Bill let out a long sigh. "Look, I’m not going to say yes right now, but I’m not going to say no, either. You’re obviously under some stress, and that has to play a part. This is a serious decision and requires careful consideration. There’s just too much that you don’t know, that none of us here know. That means we need to look into it, talk to some people who know something about it."

"Dad, you’re kidding!" he said, sitting up and taking his head off of Shae’s shoulder for the first time since the discussion started. "I figured you’d blow up like a volcano."

"I will admit that on the first thought the idea appalls me," Bill said. "At the same time, just because it appalls me doesn’t mean that it may not have merit. Which is why it deserves long and careful consideration." And, gives it a good chance to blow over, he carefully did not say.

"Dad, really, I’ve considered it a lot," he said. "It’s what I want to do."

"It may be," Bill nodded. "But you said you don’t have any serious idea of what’s involved. Obviously, neither do we. We need to find some of that stuff out." He let out a sigh. "Arlene, my thinking is that I would really rather that, if this comes about, it happens with our support, rather than him going about it on his own. However, I can’t see how we can support it without knowing more about it."

"It’s awful new to me," she agreed. "I, uh, I guess I never really thought about it in that way. On the surface, the idea of looking into it does seem to have some merit. Denis, if you’re going to do it, and in the long run it will be your decision, then I’d feel better if it were done carefully and wisely."

"Mom, Dad," he stammered. "You’re already ten times better about the idea than I ever figured you’d be."

"I’m like your father," she said. "My first reaction is that I hate the idea. But that doesn’t mean it may not prove to be a good idea once I know more about it."

"Then let’s look into it," Denis said. "Like I said, I want to do it, the sooner the better. But I’d rather have your approval than have you hating me for it."

"I don’t think your mother and I can ask for much more," Bill replied. "All right, first things first. Tomorrow, I’ll make some calls and see if I can find anyone who knows anything about this, surgeons or something, maybe at U of M hospital, rather than anything local. I get the impression that this is not a common operation, and finding people who know something may take some time. Another thought is that we need to get to some library that’s going to be a little more complete than the school library. Possibly the university library at Western might be a place to start. That may take some time, too."

"So long as we’re moving ahead, I can wait," he conceded. "I mean, I don’t see how anything much can be done before I get out of school, and that’s another year."

"My thinking exactly," Bill nodded. "Which leads me to an awkward question, Shae. You realize what would happen around school if one breath of what we’ve said the last twenty minutes gets out?"

"Mr. Riley, I think I know better than you do. If a hint of it got out, it’d take an armed guard to keep him safe over there. Three quarters of the kids in the school would go absolutely apeshit, and there are parents who would be worse. If anyone finds out, it won’t be through me. And if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask."

"Thanks, Shae," he smiled. "I always knew your folks raised a good kid. Now, Denis, are you satisfied with where we’re at for now?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, shaking his head in awe. "I mean, I never expected this."

"Good," Bill nodded. "Now that we’ve got that put in place for a moment, can I point out that we have a more immediate problem? While we’re on the subject of appalling, this stuff at school has got to cease. Now, I realize that you’re probably still upset about what happened this afternoon, but I want you two to calmly take me through what happened. Then, we’ll decide what steps to take."

*   *   *

This has been the day from hell, John Ingersoll thought as he walked into his house. Three different teacher grievances, Dr. Morris on his ass all day about the budget, and about fifteen other crises, all topped off by that thing with the Riley kid and having the fire department show up. That was totally unnecessary; the Riley kid was all right and could have waited for a few minutes until he got off the phone with Dr. Morris, but no. Even then he’d had to cut off the important call with the superintendent when a freaking fire truck pulled in! It was probably the Kirkendahl kid who called the fire department, and he was going to have to have a talk with her about that. And that Riley kid! Couldn’t he just keep his ass out of trouble for once? But no, every time he turned around he was the cause of something!

Thank God that was behind him, now, at least for a few hours. Since it wasn’t an active sports season, he didn’t have to go back to the school for games, so he could leave all that shit behind at the school door. It was good to just get home, get those shoes off, pour a stiff one, and not have to deal with any of that shit until tomorrow.

In fact, it took a couple of good stiff ones to get him settled down a little; he could feel his blood pressure falling as the alcohol relaxed him. Brokaw was just finishing up the evening news when the phone rang. Hopefully it was one of his wife’s friends, not something from the school.

But, no such luck. "John," she said, "I think you’d better take this call."

"Oh, crap," he said, tearing his attention away from the TV and getting up. "Now what the hell?" He walked over to the phone, picked it up, and said, "Yes?"

"This is Bill Riley," he heard over the phone. He didn’t sound angry, but there was a flat menace to his tone that made it clear he wasn’t a happy camper.

"Is this about that thing this afternoon? Can’t it wait till morning?"

"No, it can’t wait," Riley said. "Because what happens in the morning depends on what we talk about now. Now, I’ve talked to the kids, and I’ve talked to the firemen, and I want to know what in hell you think you were doing!"

Oh shit, he was pissed. This was all he needed, to have the big shot from General all over his ass about that punk kid of his. "It didn’t seem that serious to me, and I had some other things to do, too."

"According to the firemen, it was damn serious. He was close to asphyxiation. What kind of zoo do you think you’re running over there?"

"Like I said, I didn’t think it was that serious," he said, realizing that he had a very pissed person to try to calm down.

"It was damn serious," Riley snorted. "And it’s obvious that you have an atmosphere of violence over there and have no intention of doing anything about it. All right, if you won’t do anything, I will. Tomorrow, a uniformed security guard will bring my son to school and watch over him all day. The school will pay."

"I can’t have that!" Ingersoll said. "A security guard? It would raise hell with things over there. Besides, there’s no money in the budget to pay for something like that!"

"Oh, you’ll find the money somewhere," Riley said calmly, "Even if it comes out of your own pocket. Get this clear: I’m not going to pay for a security guard, but I’m quite willing to pay for all the lawyers I need to be sure you or the school pay for one."

"Look, a security guard is totally ridiculous," he protested, realizing that Riley wasn’t kidding. "I can’t have that."

"Then you’re going to have to be the one to keep an eye on him."

"I can’t do that, either! I’ve got a school to run; I can’t just take all day watching to see that one kid stays out of trouble."

"You’re not going to have much time to run the school when your ass is sitting in court all the time. Maybe jail, if I’m lucky. I have a damn good case of criminal negligence on you for this afternoon, and let’s not even get into some of the other incidents I’ve been told about in the last two hours. Now, what’s it going to be? I’m going to give you one chance to take steps to end this shit and discipline the kids involved. If you’re not going to try, I might as well know now so I can call the security company and my attorney. Your choice."

"Look, give me a chance to look into this," he protested, backpedaling hard. It was clear Riley was pissed, and if he was that pissed he was probably capable of doing something like he was threatening. This would probably blow over in a couple days. "I can’t have a security guard around the building all the time, watching over one kid. I mean, how would that look?"

"It’d look like you’re not doing your job," Riley said, "Which you haven’t been. Now, I’m going to have a talk with my son, and I’ll take some other measures from my end. You hold up your end and we’ll see. But if there is one more incident, you will be looking at a uniformed security guard and you will have your ass in court. Do I make myself clear?"

"Look, give me a little time on this; I’ll do what I can."

"I’m giving you all the time you need if you use it right," Riley said.

"All right, like I said, I’ll do what I can."

"We’ll see," he then heard the click of the phone being hung up.

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