Be a girl

Chapter 11



“Boys, are you ready?” dad called out from the other end of the house. It was our first time seeing our mother since she moved in with our aunty Miranda. For the foreseeable future, James and I would be staying at theirs on the weekends, then heading back to dad’s on Sunday night. Miranda’s house was quite small – far smaller than dad’s – so we didn’t really have a proper room to board. Instead, we’d be sleeping together on our aunty’s sofa-bed. Not an ideal arrangement, but there simply wasn’t enough space for a proper bed to fit the both of us. Besides, it was only one night a week. We could manage.

I felt a little twinge in my chest when dad called us both boys, though I wasn’t too sure why. I mean, I was a boy, right? Why did it feel off somehow? Maybe it was because I’d turned James into a girl, and I was still feeling guilty. Yeah, that must have been it.

I brushed that feeling aside and made my way to the family room with my bag, ready to leave. I’d packed lightly. Since we were only there for today and tomorrow, I only needed one change of clothes. If mum weren’t so insistent that I wear a different set of clothes every day, I probably wouldn’t have even bothered, and only brought a change of underwear. I didn’t care. If it were up to me, I’d wear the same outfit for several days in a row.

James didn’t pack nearly as lightly as me. I suspected however that most of what he’d shoved into his bag was toys rather than clothing, based on the way the bag bulged. He was very much looking forward to seeing mum again. A week without her had definitely gotten to him; the adjustment period had been rough.

We popped our bags in the boot of dad’s car, and both sat in the back seat. The drive over to our aunty’s house was quiet and awkward, but short. Neither dad nor I wished to speak, while James was perhaps too excited to finally see mum again that he didn’t need to speak. I could have sworn he was vibrating.

Dad knocked on the front door to announce our arrival, while James and I grabbed our bags from the boot. It didn’t take long for mum to answer. She was expecting us after all, and dad was always punctual.

Both mum and her sister answered the door together. Much like the rest of the family, aunty Miranda was short, though not as short as my mother. Actually, now that dad was shorter, she and him were the about same height. She tended to dress much more masculinely than my mother – opting to wear a tshirt and knee length shorts today – and even kept her hair cropped fairly short.

No doubt aunty Miranda was eager to see her nephews after not having seen us for several months. James rushed up to mum and gave her a big hug, before moving to do the same with our aunty. I merely gave them both a smile and a wave. I wasn’t really in the mood for hugs. Now, or ever really.

Aunty Miranda gave my dad a look which I couldn’t quite describe. It was one I’d never seen on her before. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“You didn’t tell me she was a cutie, Beth,” she said. Ah, well, that explained it then. Mum rolled her eyes at her sister, but said nothing in response.

“Never in my life did I ever think I’d be called a ‘cutie’ by my wife’s lesbian sister,” dad sighed, shaking his head. I had to admit, it was a rather strange remark from Miranda, though I refrained from commenting. I didn’t really know much about my aunty’s love life. Just the occasional girlfriend here and there. The relationships never seemed to work out, and I had no desire to find out why.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, looking like that,” Miranda stated with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, “I must say though, I was not expecting this from you. What brought it on?”

“Listen, I’m just here to drop the kids off, and be on my way,” dad replied, exasperated and clearly uncomfortable with this entire situation. He then addressed James and me, “You two have fun. And be nice to your mother. She’s going through a lot right now.”

We’re all going through a lot right now, dad, especially you. No need to remind us.

Dad ruffled the hair on James’ head and gave me a pat on the shoulder before heading to his car and driving off. I watched, expressionless, as the car left my field of view, then sighed.

It had been a few months since I’d last stepped foot inside aunty Miranda’s house, and it looked a bit different than last time. Evidence of mum’s new residence was scattered about the place, particularly in the guest room.

James and I placed our bags by the side of the lounge, out of the way so that no one would trip on them. James ran off to go chat with mum, which I wasn’t in the mood for, so I sunk myself into the lounge instead. Miranda joined me, choosing to sit right next to me.

“So, how have you been, Ben?” she asked me, “It’s been a while.”

“Not great,” I said, staring off to the side. I didn’t particularly feel like speaking with anyone at the moment, but I wasn’t going to brush her off rudely. We hadn’t spoken in months, after all.

“I understand,” she nodded reassuringly, “It’s a rough time for all of you.”

“Yeah.” I paused for a moment, staring blankly at my lap. “I just… feel like it’s my fault.”

“Hey,” she said softly, “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“How can I not? I know dad keeps telling me it’s not my fault – and especially tells me not to beat myself up over it – but mum wouldn’t have moved out if it weren’t for me.”

“Your mother moved out because she is a straight woman and cannot be expected to stay with Jo after she suddenly decided to get a sex change like that.”

I frowned at my aunty. It appeared that mum had not given her the full story. I didn’t know what mum told her, but she had clearly left out some key details in her explanation. “Did mum not tell you?” I asked.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Tell me what?”

I took a deep breath. I needed to steel myself for what I was about to say. Miranda was family, she’d seen the state dad was in, and she deserved to know the truth. “I was the one who turned dad into a woman. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. It was an accident.”

My aunty stared at me with utter bewilderment. I couldn’t blame her, either. “Huh? That doesn’t…” she began, the train carrying her thoughts running off the track. “How can? I don’t… What?”

“I wish I knew,” I replied. I wished I knew why this had ever happened to us. There was no rational explanation. Though I supposed that was to be expected when dealing with literal magic.

“You couldn’t have,” Miranda said, finally pulling together a coherent sentence, even if only three words. “How could you have? On accident? That makes no sense.”

“People transform from male to female when I touch them now. I have no idea why.”

Aunty Miranda rubbed at her temples, still struggling to comprehend the words that had come out of my mouth. She sat there for a moment, lost in thought before suddenly shouting for my mother, “Beth!”

Shortly, mum came into the lounge room, wondering what her sister wanted. James had followed her, no doubt also wondering what the commotion was. “Yes?” mum said.

“Is it true?” Miranda asked mum, “Did Ben turn your husband into a woman?”

“Yes,” mum answered, “He also turned James into a girl.”

Ok, I did not expect her to come out and say that so bluntly, especially after she clearly avoided telling Miranda in the first place. James still looked exactly the same as he had prior to my birthday when this whole mess began. She didn’t have to tell her sister what had happened to James at all. She would have been none the wiser.

Miranda nodded slowly, taking it all in. “I think I need some time to myself,” she said after several moments of silence. She stood up from the lounge and headed to her bedroom. We all watched her leave, not saying a word.

It was bothering me that mum had refrained from mentioning to her sister that I was the cause for this entire mess. For what reason could she have kept that information from Miranda? I needed to know.

“Hey mum,” I said quietly. Her ears perked and she looked at me expectedly. I took a deep breath and continued, “Why didn’t you tell her that I transformed dad?”

“It wasn’t my place to tell her,” she stated simply. Oh. Well, I supposed that was fair. “I’m going shopping with James now,” mum continued, changing the topic so abruptly that I almost didn’t parse what she was saying, “Did you want to come?”

I shook my head at her. Shopping was the last thing I wanted to do right now. Walking around a busy public space? Doing an activity I had no interest in? No thanks. What would I even get? What I wanted, money couldn’t buy, so shopping just seemed like a colossal waste of time.

Mum rolled her eyes at me. “Typical.” Thanks for being so dismissive, mum. “We’ll be back later.” With that, she grabbed James’ hand and left out the front door with him. What mum could be going shopping for with my little brother was a mystery, but it didn’t really matter all that much to me. I wasn’t going.

I sunk further into the lounge, suddenly alone, and let out a deep sigh. Within seconds I was already bored, and I wasn’t sure what I could do to alleviate my boredom. Normally in this situation, I would play video games on my computer, or browse the internet, but I only owned a desktop computer, which I couldn’t very well bring here. I’d never expected my parents to split up when I got it.

It was moot now anyway, so why bother worrying about it? I pulled out my phone and started mindlessly scrolling. If I couldn’t play games, at the very least I could find interesting science videos on the internet to occupy my time. The experience was vastly inferior on mobile though, I had to admit.

Aunty Miranda came out of her room at some point and asked if I’d like to play some cribbage with her, to which I agreed. It would be nice to sit down and do something enjoyable with a member of my family whom I didn’t see so often. Though, I was going to be seeing her far more often from now on. Still, I did appreciate a good game of cribbage with my aunty. She didn’t fill me with guilt from her mere presence, so that was a plus.

She pulled out one of her fancy decks of cards which she’d imported from America. I supposed they weren’t fancy over there, but here, they were a rarity. Only card enthusiasts owned such decks, since they needed to be imported, and they weren’t cheap – well, relatively at least. She simply refused to use the decks of cards one could buy in shops over here; they were far too low quality for her tastes.

She began with her silly little joke that wasn’t actually that funny, all things considered, but it still got a giggle out of me every time. She explained how one should never play a game of cards with someone capable of shuffling a deck in only one hand… all while shuffling the deck in one hand. I trusted that she had the integrity to not cheat, but I had no doubt that she was capable cheating, if she so desired.

“I don’t have to worry about you turning me into a man, do I?” aunty Miranda said, dealing out each of our hands.

“No. It seems I can only transform people from male to female,” I replied, grabbing the six cards I’d been dealt and looking over them carefully.

“That’s a relief.”

After some thoughtful deliberation, I selected the two cards from my hand which I didn’t want and placed them face down on the table. My aunty placed her two cards down not too long after, then turned over the top card of the deck.

“Six,” I said, placing down my first card of the round.

“I suppose that makes you the only male in the family then,” my aunty remarked, before playing her own first card: a nine. “Fifteen.” She moved her peg on the board two spaces forward.

“On this side of the family,” I sighed. I put down a nine of my own. “Twenty four. Pair.” I moved my own peg two spaces forward.

“Thirty one,” Miranda said, placing down a seven and moving her peg forward another two spaces. We each turned our cards over and began a new round. “You don’t seem so pleased about that fact.”

Not in the way she thought, but I couldn’t exactly tell her that. Instead, I said, “I’m just a bit worried about dad right now.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked. She placed her first card for the round. “Seven.”

I placed down my other six. “Thirteen. Five-six-seven,” I said pointed at the top card of the deck, my six, and her seven in order. I moved my peg three spaces, putting me in the lead, albeit only by one point. “He’s really struggling right now, and not just because he and mum split up. He’s having a hard time adjusting to being a woman now, though he tries not to show it.”

“I see. And I suppose that’s why you feel guilty?” She placed down her remaining card, an eight, making the total twenty one.

I nodded in response to her question and placed down my Jack of clubs, “Thirty one” I said, giving myself two points.

“How about we stop talking about this, yeah?” she said.

“Sounds good,” I smiled. I tallied up my points. I had a pair, three fifteens and one for his nob. That totalled nine points. My score was dwarfed by my aunty’s however, who had two sevens, an eight, and a nine, netting her twelve points, plus the crib which gave her another eight points. I mentally kicked myself for giving her half of those points, but I wasn’t to know which cards she’d give herself in the crib.

I took the deck in my hands and performed the shuffle that Miranda had taught me. She called it the faro shuffle; the easiest method to properly shuffle a deck of cards. She was a real stickler for shuffling a deck of cards properly.

All that one needed to do was cut the deck in half, then place the two halves together end to end, and the cards would weave themselves together with a little pressure and sideways motion. She had also explained that this particular type of shuffle was by far the easiest and most reliable method for doing what’s known as a ‘perfect shuffle’. She’d also explained that the one handed shuffle was actually just a variation of the faro shuffle, albeit performed with one hand rather than two. Needless to say, that was much more difficult.

We continued our game for quite a while, playing to three hundred and one points rather than the usual one hundred and twenty one. It was a nail biting race to the finish, with each of us within only a few points of each other by the end. However, my aunty was the one who came out on top. I wasn’t too disappointed with myself however, as we’d both played well, and had fun.

Eventually mum and James returned from their trip, and I asked my brother what he’d gotten. He didn’t really want to talk about it. For some reason, he looked sad, and was rather distant when I tried to talk to him. It was very unlike him. But I didn’t pry. Whatever it was, I was sure that if he wanted to tell me, then he would. If he didn’t, then it wasn’t any of my business, even if it did worry me. His privacy was important to me.


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