The Adventures of Annie           by: Emmie Dee                 © 2000

Part 2

 

Seniors at Fort Russell High

As the school year began, Sarah Beth and I both had the same feelings—or was it lack of feelings? This was supposed to be our last year of high school, right? The climax, the end product of all those years that began when we were rugrats, right? Seniors rule, right? So why were we so unexcited? Why did we feel it was just an interlude to get through before we got on with our lives? Part of it, I guess, was the chatter of our friends, about how they'd just die if we didn't win the big football game, or if the didn’t get asked to the dance by the right boy, and all that stuff. When you spent the summer with people who really were dying, or struggling to live, or having their whole lives redefined by catastrophic illness, suddenly it doesn't feel worth it to get worked up over whether Muffie gets elected class treasurer or Eric gets a zit just before senior photos.

I guess that maybe part of our feelings of blahdom was caused by the reality that some of Sarah Beth's closest girl friends were not close friends anymore. Since her cancer, a few (now former) friends ignore her completely. Other friends try, but it's just so awkward. Do they feel guilt for not being able to hang in there with her last spring when everything was so terrible? Or just awkward, not knowing the right thing to say? Or afraid, thinking that hanging around Sarah Beth might bring to them some kind of catastrophe? Oh, a lot of girls (and boys) were nice and friendly, but by and large she felt pretty lonely and isolated. I guess that I don't mind being Annie every now and then, since Annie seems to be her closest girlfriend.

There are some other disabled kids at our high school. Or kids with disabilities, I guess I should say. Some of them have a lot of friends, but I guess the difference is that these kids have been disabled for a long time, or all their lives, and they've always been accepted (or rejected) for who they are. But when somebody enters into the world of disability unexpectedly, it scares people. This could happen to me, they think. As my dad pointed out, kids my age don't like to admit that they are vulnerable, that they could die or be crippled. So anyway, I wasn't too surprised on the first day of classes when Joanie Stephenson, a girl with spina bifida who uses a wheelchair, smiled at Sarah Beth and said, "Welcome to the club." Her hand waved between her wheelchair and Sarah's four-pronged cane.

Sarah Beth said, "Thanks, Joanie. I can't say I was crazy about the initiation process, though." It looks like maybe Joanie will become the kind of friend that Sarah Beth needs, one who will accept her and understand what it's like to be physically different in a school society where wearing the wrong brand of shoe can force you into social exile.

The one thing we did take seriously was our schoolwork. We already had good grades, but we wanted to keep them that way. The only way we could afford the university was on scholarship. The only way we could afford to get married in less than five years was to get really good scholarships. So we really focused on our schoolwork, even the dull courses from the boring teachers. In the late afternoons and evenings we would study together. Most of the time when we would study at her house, I would be Mark. But once in awhile when we would take a break, she would hang some earrings on my ears just to see how they'd look and to keep the holes open, or she’d try a new nail polish on my fingers as well as hers. It was kind of a semi-Annie-al appearance. Of course, sometimes we would play kiss-and-grope, too, but with Mrs. Holding just around the corner from us, we couldn't get too loud about it.

 

Mobility

I was still working out with Sarah in the dungeon. A few days after Rick’s visit, we were in her room changing from school clothes. I was slipping into some Annie clothes—solid yellow shorts and a yellow-and-white striped top—when she said, "Mark, I'm sorry. You don't have to become Annie every time you help me with physical therapy. I think that I was just angry enough at all the PT torture that I took my anger out on you."

I paused. I wanted to be careful how I said things. "You don't think you need Annie anymore?"

Her pretty freckled face screwed up like it does when she's concentrating. "There will be times when I think I will really need Annie around. There will be times when Annie and I will have fun together, like we did when we went to visit Roberta. But I don't want you to feel like you have to be Annie. I love you as Mark, and that should be good enough."

I still wasn't sure how I wanted to respond. I slipped my cross trainers back on. Then I went to the makeup table. Spreading foundation over my light growth of beard, I said, "Annie's with you now because Annie wants to be. Annie will be with you whenever you need her, whenever you want her." I traced a little color on my lips and pressed them. "I'm glad that you said that I don't have to change every time we do therapy together, because there are some days it will save me time just to stay Mark, or I might be too tired to bother, or whatever." I set my wig in place. "But right now, I’m glad to be Annie. And now, it's off to the dungeon with you."

We had assumed—Kevin, her physical therapist and I—that Sarah Beth would be more comfortable using a wheelchair to get around campus at our high school. Sarah Beth had no intention of doing so. She was going to walk. We worked with the school nurse and the assistant principal to set up a schedule that would keep the trips between classes as short as possible. Whenever possible, we would have classes together or nearby, so I could run interference for her in the hallways from one to another. (Of course, that had a side benefit—I got to be with her more.) When I couldn't travel with her, we had made arrangements with other friends to do the job. We always knew that there was a wheelchair in the nurse's office in case Sarah felt week some day or had to travel a really long distance in a short time.

It worked, at least for the first couple of weeks. She wore a backpack to free her hands, and she swung along with her prosthetic leg and cane, determined not to let a little thing like an upper-leg amputation slow her down. I don't know if I said this before or not, but it fits here so I'll say it anyway. Many people with disabilities can do just about anything they want to, but it takes a lot more planning and a lot more energy. They don't want to be excused from life. And Sarah was determined to live as normally as any other teen.

On Wednesday of the third week of September, though, it stopped working, at least for awhile. At 10:15, we were nearing a corner in the hallway when Randy Amos, a scrub end on the football team, came charging past the corner, looking behind him to receive a pass from a friend, and smeared right into us both. We all three went down. Sarah Beth had fallen a lot in therapy, and a fair number of times since. She never wants help, although sometimes she'll accept my arm to help her balance and pull up. She doesn't want anybody to panic or make a fuss. She just wants folks to stand back or to go about their business while she goes about hers.

This time, though, I heard her cry out in pain as she went down. As she started to roll over to get up, she cried out again and flopped back. I scrambled to my knees. "Sarah, what's wrong?" I asked.

"My back—my hip—I pulled something really bad. I can't turn over. I can't get up. This is so STUPID!" I called for somebody to call 911, that we'd need some professionals to be able to move her.

Amos just stood there, shaking, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

I looked back up at him, angry, but wanting to focus on Sarah. "That was really dumb, man, but right now I don't want to deal with you being sorry. Just go on, okay?" Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed a teacher leading him off, as he looked back at us with pleading eyes.

The nurse came with a cell phone, and completed giving instructions to the ambulance crew. We helped Sarah get as comfortable as possible. By eleven, she was at the hospital on her back on a gurney, with her leg unattached, unable to move without wincing. They took her to x-ray and moved her around for pictures, which didn't help her pain level any. Her mom rushed from work and tracked us down as she was being moved into a bed. I tried to sum up what we had found out so far. "They say it's nothing that won't heal with time, but that it will take some time. There are muscle tears and strains in her lower back and hip, some compression damage in her vertebrae and in some other joints from being jammed so hard, and her ankle is badly sprained. They removed the prosthesis in the ambulance, so it wouldn't be pulling on her sore hip and back. I wasn't there when she actually lost her leg last spring, but I don't think I've ever seen her hurting this bad."

Sarah moaned, and squeezed her mother's hand. "Actually, I've hurt worse, but just not in so many places as right now," she corrected me. Sarah stayed overnight at the hospital until Thursday afternoon, with some pretty heavy painkillers. I stayed in her room. Sometimes she'd wake and mumble, "Hi, Mark." Sometimes, she'd mumble, "Hi, Annie, would you get me some crushed ice?" I didn't have the wardrobe, but I was fitting the role.

I went to school Friday and the next Monday and Tuesday, while Sarah stayed home. She didn't wear her prosthetic at the hospital or at home. I spent the weekend at her house, sleeping in Julie's room, and wearing Annie clothes. On Saturday, it was my Tigger bibs. I started to put a yellow sundress over my head on Sunday morning, and she just shook her head and said, "Annie, what am I going to do with you? It's nearly the end of September, and you're still dressing like it's summer. We're going to have to improve your wardrobe."

By the time she was ready to return to school, she insisted on wearing her prosthetic leg, even though she would be using a wheelchair. She didn't want people to stare. It took nearly two weeks before she was strong enough to try walking again, and then she ended up in the wheelchair before day's end and at home. Through it all, I worked with her as I could, massaging the sore muscles, and helping her exercise as much as she could endure. Well, Annie and I did.

 

Same Song, Second Verse

"This is a bitch. Really a bitch." Sarah Beth was usually squeamish about using even such mild language, but she was depressed and angry. She was just starting to get where she could walk again, and the ugly c-word was about to reenter her life. Chemotherapy. Her hair had started growing out, and it was nearly an inch long. Although she wore her wig to school, she didn’t mind it if people saw her crewcut look around home. But it was going to be back to bald in a few weeks. And back to barfy. This round promised not to be so bad. It wouldn’t be as potent a combination of drugs, so the side effects wouldn’t be as awful. She could receive it as an outpatient at the local hospital, instead of going back to the children’s hospital 90 miles away. She wouldn’t have to miss school (except for time lost for feeling yucky), since the hospital had already scheduled her for late afternoon appointments. The treatment was to keep the cancer out of her system, not to stop cancer that was already there. But it still would be no fun.

"And the worst thing about is that you can’t take me, Annie," she pouted as she brushed her short hair. I hadn’t planned on being Annie that afternoon, but she found this maroon party dress that Julie hadn’t taken to school, and wanted to see how it would look on me. Not too bad, actually.

"Mark can take you, though," I replied, as I sorted through her lipsticks to find one that would go with the maroon dress. "I mean, it’s great that they scheduled things so your mom can take you after she gets off work, but I want to be there, too, as Mark, I mean."

"But Mark, you’re spending all your time taking care of me. I’m not sure it’s healthy for you and for me to have my fiance be my nurse all the time. Your love might just become—well, just a sense of responsibility. You have a life and you’re not living it." I nodded. In a way, I had to agree with her.

"I love being with you anytime, anyway, anyhow," I said. "But you might be right. I guess it might not be the best thing for either of us for me to be right on top of you all the time…." I started to blush.

"It would be fine for you to be on top of me one of these days, Mark," she giggled. "But we sort of promised that we’d try to wait." We heard the back door close.

"And your mom’s coming in from the garden, anyway. But, back to our previous discussion. On nice days when you think you’ll be okay at the hospital without me, I’ll go biking or whatever. But I might come and hang around from time to time, if it’s okay—as Mark, that is. If people around here found out my secret identity as Super Annie, the forces of evil might triumph." I did a Superman (Superwoman?) pose as much as the party dress would permit, and she giggled again.

The Saturday after her first week of chemo treatments, she felt good and insisted that we go shopping to improve Annie’s fall wardrobe. "But I thought that Annie wasn’t supposed to be seen around town," I protested.

"You can come as Mark. You’re about Annie’s size, I think," she giggled, "and I promise that you won’t have to try anything on. We’ll just pretend we’re looking for stuff for Julie."

So we go to the biggest thrift store in town, and I (without much acting) look like the pained, bored boyfriend waiting for his teenaged girlfriend while she power shops. I hoped that the clerk didn’t notice much when she would lift blouses and skirts off the rack, hold them in my general direction, and say, "hmmm."

Unfortunately, the clerk, an older lady with her back in a bun and a sensible dress, was looking right at us when Sarah Beth laid right up to my chest a pair of lilac twill bib overalls, with embroidered flowers on the bib. I stepped back. "Sarah!" I said. Sarah saw the clerk and grinned.

"I’m sorry," she said. "I’m shopping for my sister and my boyfriend is just her size—well, not just her size, if you know what I mean," as she made straight up-and-down motions with her hands to illustrate my boyish figure. "I didn’t mean to embarrass you, or him." The clerk smiled and said it was okay. After the clerk walked away, she whispered, "Annie, you know how you love the Tigger bib shortalls. You need something informal to replace them for the Fall and Winter, don’t you?"

I whispered back, "I’m sorry, Sarah. Those just don’t grab me like Tigger did." We did leave with two long-sleeved blouses of a smooth, silky material. One had autumn leaves on it, and the other was a solid color that Sarah described as taupe. At her home later, she showed me a pair of black silky pants that Julie had left. They bulged out loosely toward the bottom before they came back in to form cuffs just above the ankles. She asked me to try them on, and try on each blouse with them. I didn’t have to go the full makeup route, she just wanted to see how they looked. They looked fine, although maybe a little old for Annie, and the soft, smooth material felt great on my skin. I was generally comfortable in women’s clothes, but I rarely felt excited. This could get me aroused. Sarah asked how I like them.

"I like them fine, Sarah, they look good and feel great. But I thought that I was just going to be Annie around the house here. Why do I need a new wardrobe?" I asked, glancing at myself again in the mirror.

Sarah looked incredibly sad. "Because Annie will need something more seasonal to wear to Cameron, besides the white blouse and maroon skirt that Mrs. C asked you to wear. These are the kind of clothes that will be appropriate when the time comes."

When the time comes. She was referring to Roger. The day before, as we had every Friday afternoon for the past several weeks, we had called collect (at Mrs. C’s invitation) to talk with Roger. He and his mom listened over a speaker phone. He was totally bedfast and helpless, his mother told us. She still thought that he understood us, and that he seemed content and happy when we talked to him, and less agitated the rest of the day. He wasn’t on life support except for IV fluids, and the doctors didn’t give him many more weeks. We had promised to come for his funeral, and Mrs. C. had promised to provide the transportation to get us there.

 

The Invitation

On a Saturday morning about the middle of October, Sarah called and asked me to come over. Julie had come home the night before, and wanted to talk with all of us—nothing earthshaking, she said. She just felt that since I was family now, or almost, that I might like to hear, along with Sarah and their mom, how things were going at college. She also had an invitation for us. That part I couldn't figure out. She wasn't going steady, so it must not be a wedding invitation.

"Hi, Mark, come on in!" Julie greeted me on the step. She looked lean, happy, and fit. Her blond hair was even more curly than usual, so she must have gotten a perm since I saw her last. It made me remember the bleach-and-die job and perm that I received four months ago that had transformed my straight brown hair into a clone of her blonde bubble. The four of us made ourselves comfortable in the living room. (Mr. Holding was driving his semi rig somewhere in Pennsylvania.) I lazily scratched Mr. Jones behind the ears as he plopped his big head on my lap. (Okay, I'm leading you on. Mr. Jones is their old golden lab mix dog named for a third-grade teacher for forgotten reasons.) He grunted in appreciation as Julie gave us the lowdown on life in the athletic wing of the women's dorm at Westview College, her cross-country running that had kept her on campus most weekends and helped get her in shape for basketball, her scholarship sport, and sly descriptions of her professors and the courses they taught. Her happiness made me happy, because my becoming Annie for the summer had freed the way for her to go to college. Otherwise, she would have been taking a nail tech course at the local beauty college and working at her friends' nail parlor, the same place where my long blue nails had become my six-week companions.

Julie reached into a bag and pulled out two long-sleeve tee shirts with Westview printed down the arms. Mine had a picture of Tigger on the front, and Sarah's had Piglet. "These are unisex, Mark, so Annie can wear the Tigger shirt, too. The color will look great with a denim skirt." Evidently, the family had kept her up to date that Annie still came around from time to time.

"Now for the invitation," she said. "I want the three of you to be my guests on campus over the Halloween weekend." Oh, oh. Even before Annie had come along, I had agreed to let the girls dress me up as a female on Halloween. I had hoped that with Julie being away at college, they would have forgotten. "It's a parents and prospective students weekend. My first freshman women's basketball game is late Thursday afternoon, and I'll be starting at guard. I'll also be on the bench but may get to play a little during the varsity game that evening. Friday evening, the women's athletic association is having its own Halloween party, and on Saturday there will be lots of fun booths and activities. You can go to church with me up there Sunday, and then head home."

Mrs. Holding looked concerned. "That would be great, honey. I'd love to come watch you play in your first game there. But it sounds a bit expensive, with motel rooms and all, and Sarah Beth and Mark would miss school."

Julie smiled. She had done her homework. "College visits are fully excused absences for high school seniors," she explained. "I know that you two are planning to go to the university," she said, looking at us, "but you can still come and see what Westview has to offer. And as for lodging, I've already signed you up for a guest room in the athletic wing."

My brow furrowed. "The guest room in the athletic wing of the women's dorm. Halloween. Is it really Mark that you’re inviting?" I asked Sarah giggled. I had the feeling I was being set up again, as this pair had done so often in the past.

"You're right, Mark," Julie said. "I do hope that Annie will come. If you want to come as yourself, you are invited also, but you'll also have to stay off campus at a motel. And your Halloween costume won't be nearly as much fun."

"I suppose you have the costume all planned out, too," I muttered.

"I do, and I think you'll enjoy it a lot. It's very appropriate. And Sarah Beth's costume will work with it really well. It's nothing embarrassing or cheap. But I'm not going to tell you what it is. Trust me."

Sarah Beth nodded at me. Evidently, she had already agreed to this plan. "I guess that I trusted you when I became Annie, and that worked out okay," I said to Julie. "All right. If it's okay with my folks to go with you that weekend, I'll go. But at Hope Haven, I was supposed to be Annie Holding. Won't there be people there that know you only have one sister?"

"You'll be Annie Jansen," Julie explained. "Your own imaginary sister. I promise you that I haven't told anyone at college, even my best friend, how you as Mark became Annie last summer. I have, however, told them how Annie Jansen, my bicycling buddy, saved my neck by taking my place at Hope Haven. That's part of the reason I asked you to do this, actually. They were impressed, and asked if they could meet you—Annie—some day."

"I guess that'll work," I said. "But what if I don't get into the PT program at the university? Westview was my second choice as a school. This could get really confusing, if I visit there as Annie and want to come later as Mark."

"I don't see why that should be a problem. We'll just say that there's a strong family resemblance between you and your sister, and that she ran off with a carnival or something," Julie said.

"Annie wouldn't run off with a carnival," I protested. "But okay, you win, as usual. I’ll go as Annie."

Julie smiled and pulled something else out of the bag. It was another Westview Women Power tee like she had given us last summer, this one white with lavender silhouettes of woman athletes on it. But when she turned it over, it had "Annie Jansen" printed across the back. Of course, there was another one for Sarah with her name on it, too. Julie doesn't do things on the spur of the moment. She plans them out like a military campaign. I took the shirt and waved it above my head as a white flag of surrender. Lots of guys I knew would love to spend a weekend in a women's dorm. But not many would want to do it in the outfits, makeup, and wig that I would be wearing, nor would they want to do it staying with their future mother-in-law. Oh, well. I would look resigned. I would sigh a lot. I wouldn't let them know that it sounded like fun.

 

Halloween Happenings

The school gave its blessing to the trip, and my mom and dad did, too. Dad didn't know that I would be going as Annie. He still has some discomfort around the fact that his son so easily slips into a female mode. Sarah Beth was still using her wheelchair most of the time at school, although she would get up and walk short distances. Annie didn't make any appearances in the week-and-a-half, but Sarah Beth did buy me a pair of girl's jeans (zipper on side) for the trip. Her mom cleaned and styled my wig. By this time, my own hair was growing out to where I got the sides trimmed. Sarah's hard-won inch growth was already thinning from the new round of chemotherapy. Two nights before we left for Westview, she got out the clippers and asked me to repeat my barber role. Between her and Mr. Jones, she said, there was too much hair being shed in the house. Her hair was just a little darker than Mr. Jones' fur, but they were both nearly the same length. I offered to shave mine off again, as I had done during the summer, but she insisted that I not. "Every time people saw your bald head," she explained, "I knew they were thinking about my bald head under my wig and feeling sorry for me. I'm really tired of people feeling sorry for me. Besides," she giggled, "you don't shed as much as Mr. Jones or me."

We left town very early Thursday morning to head for Westview. I was dressed in the jeans that Sarah had brought me, and the "Annie Jansen" Westview shirt from Julie. A large bandana covered most of my wig, so if anyone saw me they would be more likely to think that I was Julie. Sarah had suggested "Perfectly Peachy" nail polish for the trip, and so we both sported it.

To get to Westview from Fort Russell without going 150 miles out of our way, you have to drive through the city where we had spent most of the summer. We had left early to have time to drop off and see Roberta at the hospital. She was out of the CCU now, and didn’t have all the tubes, but she was still wired to the monitors.

"Annie! Sarah Beth!" she squealed as we came into the room. We introduced our little friend to Sarah Beth’s mom, and gave her a big helium vampire balloon for Halloween. Mrs. Holding and Roberta’s mother stepped out into the hall, so we could chatter with the little girl who had received a new life with a new heart.

We had lunch at one of the places we had found in the city, then headed over the mountains to Westview. Following Julie’s instructions, we went first to the women’s dorm and entered the athletic wing. "Remember you’re Annie," Sarah Beth muttered. "Don’t ogle any beautiful bodies you see."

I bobbed my eyebrows up and down. "Okay, I’ll only ogle yours!" Mrs. Holding just shook her head, then picked up a courtesy phone to dial Julie’s room. In a minute, Julie was out hugging us both. Then I looked up to see a smiling, very tall black woman walk into the room. How striking! Her hair was cropped short, following the shape of her head. She reminded me a bit of a friend of ours from the chemotherapy waiting room last summer, but this woman was taller and blacker. I thought at first she would walk past us, but she stopped by Julie’s side to greet us.

"Hello, Mrs. Holding," she said, "It’s so good to see you again! And this must be Sarah Beth Holding and Annie Jansen! I’m so glad to meet you both!" She hugged us all. She must have noticed the confused look on my face, because she said, "Oh, I’m so sorry, Annie. I put you at a disadvantage. I’m Karrin Kamaeu, Julie’s roommate. Julie had told me how much fun she and her roommate had together, but she had just used her first name (accent on the last syllable), and hadn’t described her to us. Karrin’s voice was deep and melodic, and her English was very precise. She was at least four inches taller than Julie and I, but very slender.

The two roommates helped us settle into the small guest suite. It had two single beds and a small fold-out couch. "I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you two," Karrin told us. "Your sister is very proud of you both, even though she says that she teases you and pulls jokes on you all the time. And I am proud to help you out."

"Yes," Sarah Beth said, "Thank you for helping us settle in."

Karrin smiled down on us. "That is not what I meant. I am talking about the costumes." For the Halloween party, I wondered. Would we be wearing something African, maybe? She went on to explain. "I promised to keep the costumes secret until tomorrow evening, but they are very nice, and very appropriate. One of my great loves in life, even greater than my love for basketball, is theatre and costume design. I am the wardrobe mistress for the Westview Players, our local college troupe. So making your costumes was a labor of love."

"Karrin," I asked. "Forgive me if I seem too forward, but where are you from? Your accent intrigues me."

"I am from Westview, of course," she said, grinning broadly. "Actually, I was born in Zimbabwe, Africa. Soon after my birth, my parents came to this country to graduate school, and when I was seven, we moved here to Westview. Both my parents are on the faculty, so I have full tuition scholarship as a faculty child. The basketball coach wants me to stay in the athletic dorm to keep in training, and so that is paid for by an athletic scholarship. Besides, it is more fun being here with Julie than living at home."

I was impressed, maybe a little awestruck at this regal young woman. She was a sophomore. In addition to basketball, track, and the wardrobe room, she acted in plays and maintained a high grade-point average. Both she and Julie had started out with different roommates, but they were distracting and not well-focused or academically motivated. Keeping her grades up was vital to Julie, since her family couldn’t pay the high costs at Westview. So she and Julie had formed a team that had awesome fun, yet worked at a consistently high level.

Julie and Karrin left us to go get ready for their game. We settled in and Sarah Beth caught a little catnap while we waited to go over to the gym. I read a little further in a Star Trek: Deep Space 9 book, reflecting that I might be a good candidate for the Bajoran clergy with their androgynous robes and pierced ears. My pagh is probably pretty good, but I'd have to get a nose job.

Only a few dozen had gathered for the junior varsity game. We had watched lots of high school girls basketball in Fort Russell because of Julie's involvement, so it was fun to watch the college women go through their paces. Julie and Karrin both started the game. It was a fascinating study in contrast. Julie plays an intense "in your face" guard, moves up and down court with surprising speed, forces the other team to make mistakes, and is a fair outside shooter. In spite of her height, Karrin moved with lithe grace, and shot and rebounded with a dancer's style. In spite of their different styles of play, it was obvious that Karrin and Julie almost instinctively knew where the other was, and enhanced one another's strengths. It was a case where 1+1 equals more than two.

"They're so good, aren't they, Annie?" Sarah Beth said as Karrin deflected a rebound into Julie's hands and Julie shot for a three-pointer.

"Yeah," I observed. "I almost wonder why Karrin is playing here instead of at a larger university."

"According to Julie," Sarah Beth reflected, "there are a couple of reasons. First, scholarship basketball at that level demands a total commitment, and Karrin has too many other interests, with acting, designing, and other stuff. Also, you see how slender she is. She would have to bulk up to survive the heavier physical contact at the university level, and she's not interested in doing that. I'm kind of glad she came here, since she's become a part of Julie's life. I really like her."

"I do too," I said.

"That was obvious," Sarah responded. "When you first saw her, I was almost embarrassed. Your mouth dropped open. I had to fight back a twinge of jealousy."

"She is impressive," I admitted. "But you don't have anything to worry about." I mouthed "I love you" so people nearby wouldn't overhear. Sarah responded in kind.

Westview won by eleven points over their opponents from a college in Montana. We grabbed a quick sandwich for supper, cleaned up, and then returned for the varsity game with the same school. The gym was more crowded this time. Julie came by and pinned sheets of paper with her number, 23, on our backs. We noticed that family members of other players wore their appropriate numbers, too. Julie and Karrin sat on the bench the first half. It was a close game, so I doubted that either of them would have much chance to play. Foul problems, though, gave them the chance to go in as a pair. Evidently the coach wanted to take advantage of the way they played together. Obviously, they didn't dominate as they had in the first game, but I was impressed with how smoothly they fit into the pattern of play of the more experienced players. We screamed loudly when Julie spun to avoid the player guarding her and sunk her first varsity basket, and almost as loudly when Julie stole the ball as it was being returned down court, fed it to Karrin, who made her first. Four points in four seconds, not bad! Westview won by three. Later, back at the dorm, the two athletes stopped by our room. Julie was beaming, and Karrin's mouth wore a subtle smile. We praised their performances. Then Julie said, "The coach said that we played so well, she was sure we would get more varsity playing time than we had thought!"

The next morning, I put on the smooth baggy black slacks and the autumn-leaf blouse. I wore knee-highs and black flats, four small hoop earrings, a subtle chain around my neck, and a pin on the blouse. Sarah Beth dressed in a similarly dressy maroon outfit (maroon was a Westview color). We were overdressed for the majority of the student body, but we wanted to look like eager prospective students. Since it was Halloween, some of the students dressed up during the day. Some of them may have always dressed like that, though. I thought the Goth look was passe. I spotted two boys in drag, and was glad that I passed better than they did. They were way overdressed and overly made-up, trying to look like some prototype of "Sexy Woman."

"If Annie had looked like that," Sarah said softly after one of them had passed, "We would have never made it, would we?"

"I had good guidance," I told her. "You all told me that I should just look like an ordinary girl, and not go for glamorous. It worked, didn't it?"

Sarah squeezed my hand. "Yes, it did, and I have both a fiance and a new best girl friend. Thanks, Annie."

We visited some Friday classes with Julie, and Karrin escorted us to a math course that her dad taught. Admissions counselors visited with us, gave us advice, and tried their mightiest to get us to sign on the dotted line. We were honest, and said that Westview was our second choice, since we were hoping to do more specialized studies at the university than a small college offered. Mom Holding met us at lunch, in the college union. Julie and Karrin, along with their friends, griped good-naturedly about the food, but Sarah Beth and I thought it was great compared to Fort Russell High and Hope Haven.

At 3:30, Julie and Karrin took us with them to basketball practice. "Mind your manners!" Julie whispered as we walked into the locker room.

"I know. Don't ogle," I whispered back.

It was difficult since the room was full of tall, athletic young women in various stages of undress. I was pushing Sarah Beth in her chair, and she glanced back at me a few times to make sure I was acting innocent. Only once or twice did she reach back to swat my knuckles, as different teammates came by and introduced themselves. We went out to the gym, and just relaxed while the team went through a light workout, just to stay loose. "If we had lost last night," Julie mentioned during a break, "it wouldn't have been anywhere near this light."

We stopped at a gourmet burger place for supper, then went back to the dorm. Julie took Sarah Beth back to their room, and Karrin announced that she was going to help me with my costume in our guest room. "So what am I going to be?" I asked. I was relatively sure that I wouldn't have to strip, or Julie wouldn't have let Karrin help me.

"You'll find out!" she teased. She asked me to take off my slacks, blouse, and pantyhose, and gave me a pair of white knee-length socks and a pair of shiny black shoes with a low heel and a wide strap. "Mary Janes," she called them. They looked like little girl's shoes, but were a little large on my feet. I slipped into the bathroom to change and to make sure that I still looked girlish in my undies. When I came out, Karrin just smiled, bent over, and rolled down the tops of my socks. Then she reached into the closet and pulled out this huge, short orange dress. It, too, was obviously a little girl's style, with white rolled cuffs and a white collar. So, they wanted me to dress as a little girl. I didn't see what was so special.

Karrin beamed at the effect. "It is too bad that your hair isn't a little more reddish orange, or we wouldn't need a wig," she said, as she started to stretch a nylon net over my own wig.

"Wait a minute," I said. "If you have another wig for me to wear, I can just take this one off. Did Julie told you how I shaved my head when Sarah Beth lost her hair to chemotherapy?" I asked, lifting my wig off. "So far, it's just grown back into this cute little boyish buzz cut."

Karrin clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, that looks so cute on you. And you don't look boyish at all!" Yet another compliment to make me feel strange. "If you didn’t wear your wig, though, people might think we were twins," she teased, touching her own closely-cropped hair. The wig she placed on my head was a lot like the one I had been wearing, but it was a bright orange-red. It reminded me of the color of Lucille Ball's hair on those Nick at Night reruns, but in a more little-girlish style. Karrin invited me to look in the full length mirror.

"Now do you know who you are?" she asked.

"It looks familiar, but I'm not sure I can place it," I admitted.

"You are Annie!" she declaimed with real authority.

"Of course, I'm Annie," I said, "Annie Jansen."

"And now you are Annie, as in Little Orphan Annie! If only we could have gotten some white contact lenses so people could only see the whites of your eyes," she said.

Then I realized. I had seen a video of the musical Annie when I was a kid, maybe in fifth grade. Mom and dad told me that it was based on a comic strip that was popular a long time ago. "DUH!" I said. "Karrin, forgive me for being so dense. Now I get it, Annie! And I'm Annie! You and Julie said it would be appropriate, and it is. I love it, I really do. So how did you get a costume like this? Little girl's styles don't usually come this size, do they?"

"Honey, I brought the cloth and made it myself. Since Julie told me that you and she were the same size, she had to model it for me as I made it—you should have seen her!" That brought a laugh from me.

"But what about Sarah Beth? Is she dressed in something that relates to this?" I asked.

"Let's go find out. She should be ready." I followed Karrin as she started down the hall. Some of the other woman athletes were already getting dressed in their costumes, so I didn't feel too embarrassed at the giggles and pointing, and remarks of how darling I looked.

My mouth dropped as I stepped into Julie's room. Sarah Beth was standing, using the kind of cane that dancers use with top hats. Starting at the bottom, she had shoes with big yellow spats, striped pants, a tuxedo, a white formal shirt with a gigantic fake diamond stickpin, and no hair at all! My shy Sarah was now the world's shortest Daddy Warbucks, to go with the world's tallest Little Orphan Annie. I was amazed that she would be willing to go out like that, but evidently she had agreed to it back when Julie had first invited us. These are majorly sneaky women, let me tell you. Then Mom Holding came out from the bathroom with her normal clothes on, but a large yellow mascot dog head and fake paws stuck over her hands. "Woof!" she said. Then I remembered that Annie had a dog named Sandy.

Karrin and Julie didn't play to our theme. Karrin looked scary in a grim reaper robe and scythe, and Julie had scrounged up a Little Red Riding Hood outfit so I wouldn't be the only little girl at the party. The party itself, in the Student Union, was lots of fun, and one of the big fund-raisers for the women's athletic scholarship fund. Julie and Karrin had brought our tickets. Unlike Halloween parties back home, where kids usually wore store-brought costumes, the college students had been more creative. One even came as a Picasso painting. Hey, I'm not that uncultured. They had prizes for best costume. Sarah and I won a little plastic trophy for second place in the best couples category. I wonder if we would have finished first if they had known that it wasn't just Sarah who crossed gender lines?

Saturday was an informal day. Sarah Beth and I wore our Piglet and Tigger Westview shirts and denim skirts. She had even found a pair of Piglet earrings that matched my Tiggers. Different organizations and programs at the school had set up folding tables and tents on the quad, to drum up interest, both for current students and prospective ones. Sarah Beth was tired from the day before and rode her chair most of the way. Even though we weren't really serious about Westview, it was a fun way to find out more about college life. One of the most interesting visits Sarah Beth had was with a campus activist group that focused on accessibility and rights of people with disabilities. She grabbed up some of their literature and took down a few names and addresses. Karrin's family had us over for lunch. I thought it would be something African, but it was really good barbecue instead. Both Karrin's parents were very tall, and I kept bending my neck back to look up at them when they talked. Afterwards, my short Sarah said, "Now you know how I feel, having to look up at people all the time." I guess that was true even when she was standing, but was even more so with her in the wheelchair.

Mom Holding really seemed to enjoy the visit to the campus. "A campus like this on a beautiful fall day makes me wish that I could have gone to college," she said wistfully. She and her husband had both grown up poor, and went to work right after high school.

"Mom," Sarah Beth said, "I’ll likely be away at college next year, and you’ll have an empty nest. Maybe if I get a good scholarship, you can go to college, too."

"What? Don’t be silly. I couldn’t afford that, and my job keeps me plenty busy," she protested with a smile.

"Really, Mom Holding," I came in. "You don’t have to quit your job to be a part time student. Start taking courses at Fort Russell Community College in the late afternoons, when you’re usually home. Mr. Holding is out on the road enough that he doesn’t need you there everyday cooking, or anything. You’re really smart, and I’m sure that you would enjoy it."

She just smiled, and said, "Well, maybe. But I am forty."

"Good excuse, mom," Sarah Beth came in. "Just tell dad it’s you’re midlife crisis."

We changed our plans a little, and went to a contemporary worship service that the campus church held on Saturday evenings, so we could leave earlier the next day, and not have to change clothes. I went to church in the silky outfit that I wore Friday, although it looks like jeans and tees would have been okay there.

Sunday was a beautiful day for driving through the mountains. We stopped off at the children's hospital and enjoyed visiting Roberta and her mom. They had come from a distant corner of the state, but Vickie said that after Roberta was released, they would move here so Roberta's health could be better monitored.

"That's great!" Sarah Beth said. "That means that if we are able to come to the university, Annie here can teach Roberta how to ride that bike we fixed for her!" I just smiled and nodded.

 

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