Christine V: Dad's Visit

As we drove back to the campground, Mom told me some more she’d learned about the Reynolds family. “Josh’s father is a doctor,” she said. “Actually he’s a pediatrician and also specializes in child psychology.”
“What’s that?” I queried.
“The pediatrician part means he treats children, and the psychologist part means that he deals with children with special problems.”
“Like girls who got brought up thinking they’re boys, right?” I already knew where this conversation was going.
“That’s right, dear. Or boys who think they’re girls. Now when Dr. Reynolds gets here on the weekend, he’s going to want to see you and talk to you. I told Mrs. Reynolds that would be fine, ok?”

“But I’m not sick, Mom.”
“No honey, you’re not sick; but you do have something of a problem. We have to figure out what to do about school, how you dress, and we have to have something to tell your father. Mrs. Reynolds thinks the doctor can help you. So this is really not an option, Christine. We have to figure out once and for all if you’re a boy or a girl and then how to deal with the answer. I want you to see the doctor, and I want you to be completely, totally honest with him, ok?”
“You mean I have to tell him... er... everything?”
“Everything! And I want your promise. That’s the price you’re gonna have to pay for all these lovely new clothes.”

Well, it really was a small price to pay and I knew it. So I promised. After all, I figured, any man who was the father of great kids like Amanda and... and Josh, (I was really starting to love that name. But how had he reacted to the news his mother had given him?) couldn’t be all bad, now could he?”

“You two are really great shoppers,” Aunt Julia exclaimed when she saw our treasures. “I can’t believe you got all those clothes for so little money.” It was mid afternoon when we finally got back to the campground.
“Everything was on sale.” Mom explained. “You should have seen Christine, Julia. She was so incredibly happy, trying on everything on the rack, adjusting this and that, parading around the store in her new Sunday dress.”
“Chris? Are we talking about the same Chris who grumbled at trying on one pair of jeans?”
“I don’t think so,” Mom said with a grin. “I think my son Christopher is gone. This is my daughter Christine I’m talking about.” I knew then that I had won her over. She was so happy seeing me happy! And I really believe she had enjoyed our morning shopping spree, talking girl talk with me, as much as I had.

“What’s John gonna say?” Aunt Julia asked.
“I did what he said,” Mom said doubtfully. “He promised that given the choice, Christopher would be back. But when we got in that store, Christopher was nowhere to be seen. It’s gonna be interesting, but I tried, didn’t I Christine?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied happily. “She tried to buy me the ugliest stuff I’ve ever seen, but I told her I wouldn’t wear ‘em. Boy’s briefs... YEACHHH!”

“Where are Josh and Amanda?” I asked Gail as soon as the excitement died down.
“I dunno,” Gail replied. “I haven’t seen them all day. They just dropped off the boxes of clothes and then they said there was something they had to do and they left.”
“They’re mad at me,” I commented. “I’m sorry, Gail. You’ve lost two more friends because of me.” The new clothes were forgotten as a new gloom fell over me.
“They don’t look very mad to me,” Mom said as she pointed to a girl and a boy running towards us.
“I thought y’all would never get back,” Josh said with a grin as they arrived breathlessly.

Nothing at all was said about the issue of my sexuality for the rest of the day. We spent the next hour going through Amanda’s box of clothes, Gail and I each complementing our wardrobes greatly with dresses, skirts, tops, and some of the coolest shorts we could have asked for. They were all very light material, brightly colored, and most important of all very feminine. We played with Gail’s Barbies and my Matchbox collection; we had a rousing game of hide and seek, and that was really fun with the pine trees, various campers and all. There were so many places to hide! Josh wanted to go swimming and so did I, now that I’d solved the problems of my modesty, but Mom and Aunt Julia stated that we should call it a night early because Gail and I had not been getting enough sleep. Mothers!

I wanted to talk to Josh so badly I was busting, but he seemed to be avoiding me. We played together all afternoon and into the evening, and we all got along fine and had a good time, but there was no way I could get Josh alone. I wanted to tell him... well, I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but it didn’t matter because Josh just wouldn’t let me get him alone. When they were finally called for dinner they said they wouldn’t be back, that their mom was taking them to a movie.

The next day was Saturday. Amanda and Josh hadn’t shown up by the time we’d had breakfast and got dressed, so I decided to wander over to their trailer. Gail went with me because we always went everywhere together when we could. We hadn’t seen their trailer before, and we were totally amazed at the size of it; but there was no one there. We’d been expecting Dr. Reynolds to arrive some time before noon, but well into the afternoon the trailer was still deserted. I was concerned - really concerned. Had they had some sort of accident? Was Josh... err I mean everyone all right? Gail sensed my concern and tried to distract me by suggesting we go swimming. When she said she wanted to see me in that two piece suit she succeeded in getting my attention, so we ran back to our camper and changed.

I felt so incredible when I presented myself in public, it’s simply impossible to describe. The top wasn’t very big - just enough material to cover what would someday be breasts, with rather narrow straps going over my shoulders and connecting to the narrow band of material that wrapped around me. The bottom was equally brief, coming only halfway up to my belly button. This was definitely the most skin I had ever displayed, even though there were two pieces and not one, and it felt so good. It was a feeling of finally being totally free.

Neither Gail nor I could swim very well. We’d both had lessons and could go the length of the pool, but only with some degree of effort. So with Mom and Aunt Julia watching from deck chairs, we just splashed around in the shallow end. We met a couple of girls our own age and had fun playing tag and water polo in the water, but it would have been so much better if Josh and Amanda had been there. By bedtime they still hadn’t shown up. Even mom and Aunt Julia were getting a little concerned.

Sunday morning finally arrived. I was determined to wear my new dress. “Don’t you think you’ll be a little over dressed?” Mom said.
“Please, Mom?” I begged. “I gotta wear it some time, and it’s so pretty.”
“I’ll wear my best dress too, Aunt Susan,” Gail said. “And I’ve never seen Christine in that dress. Please let her wear it?”
“PLLEEEAAASE?” we both chorused. So Mom finally consented.

Our family had always gone to church back home, and Mom and Dad had always insisted that we dress up to the nine’s. Most kids these days wore their school clothes to church, but I was always in a suit and tie, and Gail was always in her best party dress. That got me a fair bit of teasing from the other boys as well. Not only was I the best dressed boy in my Sunday School class, but I was always on my best behavior. It seemed to most boys that Sunday School was the place to really test the patience of the teacher, but I never participated in these activities. I knew that if I did, my parents would kill me for sure; but I didn’t want to anyway. Comparing notes with Gail, I had learned long ago that the girls’ class was totally different. They all sat in class and behaved, listened, participated. In her class it was the ones who acted out who got chastised by her peers. More evidence, perhaps?

I put on the bulkiest of sanitary pads, not because I needed it because I knew what I had to hide would be well covered, but it just felt so good knowing that rotten thing between my legs was being put in its place at last, jammed tightly against my body. Next came a pair of blue panties, followed by a pair of white tights - the ones that looked like a woman’s stockings. The other white pair was a lot heavier with a cable design on the legs. They were for colder weather, Mom had told me.

I knew I didn’t need it, but I nagged until Mom let me put on a petticoat, and then of course the dress. Mom fixed a couple of matching ribbons in my hair, forming two long ringlets down each side of the back of my head, and then I put on the shoes - little white patent leather shoes with a narrow strap over the tops of my feet with a little buckle.

Gail held a mirror for me while I whirled around and around, admiring myself from every angle. Every time I moved there was a rustling sound that was simply luxurious. If there had been any doubt whatsoever that I’d been born to be a girl, that doubt evaporated when I saw myself. “I wish I was as pretty as you,” Gail said as she hugged me.
“You are,” I assured her. And indeed she was, although I had the red hair while hers was blonde, and I did love my red hair. As a bonus that hair of mine seemed to sense that it was on the head of a little girl now, and it seemed to be growing longer every time I looked at it. And so the old Chevy headed into town with two pretty, happy little girls in the back, and two proud mom’s in the front.

This church was a lot smaller than the one we attended back home, and the girls and boys were in the same Sunday School class. There were four boys and six girls in our class, but to our surprise they were all dressed in their Sunday best. Before class the boys sat on one side of the room, talking about last night’s baseball game, making paper airplanes and throwing them, and generally roughhousing as boys do. The girls were on the other side, discussing what each other were wearing and talking expectantly about the girls’ camp that was coming up in two weeks.

To my astonishment, I didn’t feel out of place at all. One or two of the girls came to talk to Gail and me, and of course they all complimented us on our outfits. I told the story of how my suitcase had got left at home so we’d had to buy me all new clothes. Of course I left out the part about the clothes back home in the suitcase being all rather on the masculine side. “Lucky you,” one of the girls said with envy. “Imagine, all new clothes. I could deal with that.”

None of them called me stupid for having done such a thing; no one laughed at me, but rather they all seemed genuinely interested in such a fantastic story. And they were all more than a little pleased when we told them we’d be here for the summer and had every intention of coming back every Sunday.

By the time we got out of the church, the temperature had topped 100. “Honey,” Mom said with concern as we got into the car, “you must be roasted. Why don’t you take off some of those clothes?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” I said cheerily as Gail began peeling in the back seat. In truth I was done to a turn, but I was having far too much fun to part with a single stitch of those clothes no matter how hot I was. But I had already noticed that I was cooler than I would have been in my wool suit, in spite of all the layers I was wearing. Gail and I had both got compliments from every old lady in the church, and a good number of the men as well. I remember thinking that I didn’t really have to go to church, I was already in Heaven.

As we pulled into the campground, Mom noticed two cars at the Reynolds trailer. “They’re back,” she commented as she pointed at the cars. “They must’ve gone somewhere to meet Dr. Reynolds. I must say I’m relieved.” Relieved isn’t the word I was feeling. I’d had this terrible sinking feeling that I’d never see Amanda or Josh again. Without saying anything, Aunt Julia turned the car into the Reynolds site. Mrs. Reynolds appeared in the doorway. “I’m really sorry we disappeared like that,” she said as she approached the car. “Robert had car trouble and we had to go get him. Come on in and meet him.”

It never occurred to me that it was a little odd Dr. Reynolds didn’t just come out to the car and say hello. Mom and Aunt Julia got out of the car and followed Mrs. Reynolds into the trailer as Gail and I sat in the back of the car. Gail was stripped to her petticoat and panties, so she obviously couldn’t go anywhere. I was hoping the kids would come out to talk to us, but they were nowhere to be seen. We sat in the hot car for over an hour, never saying a word. I deduced that Mom was telling Dr. Reynolds about the weird behavior of her son, and he was more than likely telling her what she could do to “fix” me. When our mom’s finally came out, they didn’t say anything except “He’s really a nice man, Christine. I think you’ll like him.”

When we pulled into our own campsite, our van was there. “Dad’s here!” I said excitedly. In my mind I immediately had a vision of me jumping out of the car in my beautiful dress and running to him. I was so thankful I hadn’t taken any of the clothes off. I knew he’d be convinced when he saw how pretty I was. “Stay in the car, Christopher,” Mom ordered.
“But Mom,” I protested, “I got...”
“Stay in the car until I call you. Do as you’re told for once!”

My mom didn’t speak to me that way very often, but when she did I knew in no uncertain terms that she meant it. I had also noticed with some dismay that I’d become “Christopher” again. Now I was beginning to get scared. I wondered if I should lose the dress and all the trimmings; but all the other clothes were in the camper, including my boy’s briefs and other things, and that’s evidently where Dad was. I was trapped.

“Come on, Gail,” Aunt Julia said. “Slip into your dress and let’s walk down to the store. We need some milk.”
“But Mom...”

It wasn’t long before I heard raised voices coming from inside the camper. I looked at Gail as she looked at me. She was frantically putting all her clothes back on. The look on her face was enough to terrify me. I strained my ears to hear what was being said. I couldn’t hear it all, but I did hear my dad say “You had no right. No right at all!” Then I heard my mom almost scream “You weren’t there! You didn’t see! If you’d been there you’d understand.” It sounded as if she was crying. Then things got really quiet. I looked back at Gail. She was shivering in spite of the heat. “Ch-christine...” she said, a pleading look on her face.

“I got a feeling you’d better call me Christopher,” I said as I took her hand. I realized that I was shaking as badly as she was.
“Come on, Gail!” Aunt Julia said again. Gail reluctantly got out of the car and walked off with her mother.

My mom’s face appeared in the opening of the camper. “Christine,” she called, “Come here please.” I slowly opened the car door and stepped out. I couldn’t see my dad, had no clue if he was watching me or not; but I decided I wasn’t going to give him any reason to believe I was anything but completely sure of myself. He had often told me to stand up for what I believed in, to walk tall. So that’s what I did. I stood up and straightened my dress, arranged myself as Mom had taught me to do only this morning, then making myself as tall as I could, I walked to the camper and climbed the step.

Before I go on with the story, I feel I must tell you something about my Dad. I don’t want to give anyone the idea he was a cruel or unloving father; nothing could be further from the truth. But you have to understand his point of view. Much of what I’m about to relate I didn’t know when I was 8, but there was never any question in my mind, even when I was afraid of him, that my dad loved me.

My dad and his brother grew up in a small city, the sons of a career cop. My grandfather was a very big man, and very much the old fashioned “tough guy” type of policeman. He never carried a gun, he didn’t need one. His beefy hands and arms as big as most men’s legs were all the enforcement he ever needed. But he brought his sons up the same way, with many of the same attitudes. One of those attitudes, and the one I had just collided with head-on, was the mindset that dictates human behavior. There was no room in my grandfather’s world for anyone who deviated from the norm. If you were a man, you were a MAN’S MAN! You ruled your home, you showed no emotion, and you certainly didn’t deviate from “standard behavior.” If you were more interested in non-manly things like art, music, opera, ballet, any sort of sewing, cooking, or other “women’s work” activities, you simply were not qualified to call yourself a man.

The same went for the ladies, in my grandfather’s opinion. Ladies were to look pretty for their men; wait on them; please them. They were not to express an opinion unless in a very submissive way, and they were certainly not qualified to make any major family decisions.

I won’t go into a lot of detail, I’m sure there’s no need. So when my father had a family of his own, even though he did much better, had to a very great extent overcome a lot of these prejudices, he too had his limits. So for him, the proposition that a gay man or woman, a transgender, or any other of the many so-called “deviations” we hear about, that these people might have been born that way, was unthinkable. In all cases, and he did indeed put all of these things in the same bundle, and they were all conscious decisions these people had made. And of course they were all “sinful,” a disgrace to their gender and the human race in general.

Now consider that my dad had a very deep faith in God, and that his faith and prayers had been rewarded with a son, my brother, who had been everything any he-man father could want. Johnny was athletic, intelligent, “lady-killer,” and now in the US Navy. He and Johnny had been as tight as a father and son can get for ten years, until I came along. I was welcomed into the brotherhood, but there were certain aspects, like sports, that I could take or leave and would rather leave. Dad tried really hard not to let it bother him, and most of the time he succeeded. Once in a while, though, I knew it bothered him. What bothered him even more was that it did NOT bother me, or Johnny either for that matter. If I adored my dad, I practically worshipped my big brother and he felt the same about me. Neither of us gave a second thought to our differences, but each encouraged the other in whatever we did. Johnny even sheltered me from our dad from time to time, and whenever possible he took the blame for any mischief I’d got myself into that would result in punishment.

So that was the man who was now being asked to deal with the news that his pint-size son was not his son after all, but his daughter. The same son who had played with dolls without shame or regret; who thoroughly enjoyed prancing around the stage in tights, and who would rather sing a song than sink baskets! This was a big load for my dad to bear, and even I knew it. But I had also inherited some of my dad’s traits. I was stubborn too, and I had always been taught by both my parents to stand up for what I believed. Right now there seemed something of a conflict in all that I’d been taught; nevertheless I believed what I believed strongly enough to defy my dad: to me the most powerful force on the face of the earth.

I slowly ascended the one step on the camper, then stepped inside. Dad and Mom were seated watching me enter. There was no sign of Uncle Dan. No one said a word, but the look on my father’s face spoke volumes. “Hi, Dad,” I said nervously, “I didn’t think you were coming up for a couple weeks.”
“That’s quite obvious,” he said with a sneer. “I can’t even imagine what you’d be looking like in two more weeks. Now listen carefully, Christopher, because I’m only gonna say this once. I want you to get your tail out of those clothes right now. You and I are going home.”

“But Dad,” I protested, “I don’t have any other clothes.” After I said it I remembered the new things Mom had bought for me. There they were, still in their packaging, lying on the bed. Mom had evidently shown them to Dad as proof that she had indeed given me an option.
“Then you’ll go naked. You’re certainly not going anywhere with me in that outfit. You look ridiculous. Now MOVE!”

When I bent down to take off my shoes, Mom said “Leave your clothes on, Christine.” That enraged my father and frightened me out of my wits.
“His name is Christopher, Susan!” he roared. “What in the world have you done to him? What were you thinking?”
“I haven’t done anything to HER,” she answered. “Christine has just discovered some things about herself that have made her very happy. I thought you’d be pleased.”
“He has totally pulled the wool over your eyes, that’s what HE’s done. HE’s discovered that you’re a fool for a ridiculous story. Get out of that stupid dress, Christopher, or I’ll rip it off you.”
“Don’t move, Christine. John, I want you to calm down and discuss this intelligently.”

Christine.... Him... Christopher... Her... He... She... Now I had two sets of parents, and each of them had their own set of names and pronouns for me. It was all too much as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. “Now our little sissy is gonna cry,” Dad chided. “It’s not enough that you were half a boy, you had to erase what little boyhood was left in you. What kinda little piece of crap are you anyway? I want you to turn those tears off right now, or I’m gonna give you something to cry about. Or maybe you’d rather go cry on that queer kid’s shoulder you were dancing with, huh?”

“John,” Mom said quietly, “Dr. Reynolds is more than willing to talk with you. He’s anxious to take Christine as a patient and just see what...”
“I don’t wanna hear another word about that Reynolds family. Imagine, a boy almost eleven years old, playing with girls, and dolls, and dancing with a little weirdo in front of a whole crowd. And you, ya little queer, I told you to get out of those clothes!”

“Dad,” I whimpered, “can’t I just explain...”
“Christopher, the last thing I want to hear from you is an explanation. The only sound I want to hear from you is the noise you make getting undressed. I shoulda known, letting you play with those girls, dressing and undressing dolls... I shoulda known it’d turn you into a little girl.”
“John,” Mom said impatiently, “being a girl is not a disease. You can’t ‘catch’ being a girl by associating with them. If you don’t calm down so we can talk...”

Dad didn’t answer. He glared at me, then at Mom, then back at me. I hadn’t so much as twitched since I got into the camper. Now the look I was getting told me I’d better make a move pretty soon. But what move would I make? My better judgment told me to start getting undressed, and fast! But my principles, the very principles that I’d learned by the angry man now demanding that I undress, was telling me to stand my ground. In the end, I did neither because Dad broke the spell. “Starting right now,” he said between clenched teeth, “you are not to associate with, play with, talk to, or have anything to do with that Reynolds bunch. Not now, not any time in the future. They are obviously sick, demented people. They knew what you were doing and still they came around. They are SICK, Christopher! Do you understand me, young man?”

That was too much. As I exploded in a flood of tears and sobs, I suddenly found my wits and my tongue. All the depression of the past two years, the frustration of being practically an outcast at school and having no friends at home came crashing through the wall I’d built. “Thank you, Dad,” I screamed. “Did ya ever notice I got no friends at all except Gail? Have you ever noticed that none of the boys at school come to our house? They don’t like me, Dad! They all think I’m a sissy because I don’t like sports and don’t like acting out and jumping around like something crazy. They laugh at me at school ‘cause I can’t catch a ball. They pick on me and beat me up ‘cause I’m small and I can’t fight. They call me weird ‘cause I like playin’ with Gail and I always try to be nice to the girls at school. Now I know you don’t like me either. And now I find out you don’t want me playin’ with Gail. What’s wrong with her, Dad? Why don’t you like girls?

“I had no friends ‘cept Gail till Josh came along. He didn’t care, Dad. He liked me just the way I was. He liked how I dance and he liked to hear me sing. He played dolls with Gail and me ‘cause he knew we like it. He didn’t laugh at me when I told him I can’t catch a ball, an’ he didn’t make fun of me when he found out I got boy parts. We were startin’ to be good friends and he was ok with me wearin’ a dress too. But now I’ve lost him as a friend too! What am I supposed to do, Dad? Who am I supposed to play with? You won’t let me go to the computer store with you, an’ you won’t let me play with Gail or Josh, so what am I supposed to do?

“You said you were gonna beat me if I didn’t take my dress off. Well, I’m not takin’ it off ‘cause I’m a girl, Dad. It don’t really matter if you like it or not, I’m a girl and from now on I’m wearin’ dresses, so you might as well start beating. Why don’t you just kill me? Then I won’t be a problem for you any more. You don’t want me to live anyway so just kill me and get it over with. Then you can get another boy that’s a REAL boy. I’d rather die anyway than live knowin’ that everybody hates me.”

I turned and bolted out of the camper, screaming over my shoulder “I HATE YOU!” I didn’t even touch the step as I jumped to the ground and began to run. My eyes were filled with tears so everything in front of me was a blur. Then BAM! I collided headlong into... into Josh Reynolds! My tear filled eyes weren’t working very well, but I saw the look on Josh’s face... the look of absolute shock. He had obviously been standing there for some time and had heard everything. I wailed even harder and ran for the woods.

I hadn’t been running long when I came upon the most serene, peaceful place I think I had ever been. There were very tall pine trees, with no branches for the first ten feet or so, then a thick cover of foliage allowing only slivers of light. The whole area seemed cooler than anywhere else. I stopped and looked around. It seemed so quiet in here! It was as if I had stepped into another world - a world centuries away from the raging battle inside the little camper. The floor of this little grove was covered with a thick, soft layer of pine needles. I spotted a small mound under a large Pine. I threw myself down on this mound. Lying face down, my face buried in the cradle I made with my arms, I cried until I couldn’t cry any more. Then I guess I fell asleep.

To Be Continued...