Alan's Penance

by Ann O'Nonymous

  

Chapter 16: Eve polishes up her image

Eve held out her hand to look at the lovely (and lovingly, if I may add) painted nails, unconsciously imitating Nikki. "They really do look so lovely!" s/he said thoughtfully. <Lovely? Did I just say that?>

"See, dear. Don't they look better than those dull, chipped claws boys have?" Nikki observed.

"Speaking of boys, ALAN, we have to talk. You've only . . ."

"Nancy, I was . . ."

". . . been at this a few days . . ."

"Nancy, it was just a . . ."

". . . and you are just experiencing . . ."

"Please, Nancy, it wasn't supposed . . ."

"WHAT is it!" Nancy requested, raising her voice a little more than she wanted.

"I wasn't serious about this boy thing! It was just meant to be something I wanted to . . ."

"Oh thank you, Eve!" Nikki cried out excitedly. She grabbed Eve and shut her up with a prolonged kiss.

When Eve managed to come up for air, s/he said, "I was trying to talk Cathy out of the 'Dancing with Boys' idea. I thought if I sounded real anxious, she, that is Vikki, would change her mind and I could have you as a dancing partner. I am sorry now."

"Gee, if you feel that way about it," Vikki replied, "We'll work it so you two can learn to dance together all the time – how's that!?"

"YAHOO!" was Nikki's reply, followed by a slightly less enthusiastic "T-h-a-t's great" parody from Eve the Tigress.

"But why not just say you wouldn't want to dance with a boy, Alan?" asked Cathy.

Noticing the use of the masculine, Alan tiptoed around, "Ma'am, I thought . . ."

"Please, dear, it's Cathy."

"Ummm, yes, eh Cathy. I thought you might insist on it, so if I sounded like I really, really wanted to learn to dance like a girl, to be a real girl – dancing with a real boy, you . . . you'd think different – for Nikki's sake."

"Oh great Goddess, Alan! Eve is only a part of you – not the sum of the parts," Cathy stated. "The dancing will give you poise, confidence in social situations, a good exercise, and give you a 'girlish' experience. If you danced with a boy, you could see what a girl goes through, what mistakes boys make around girls and change accordingly. However, I would never insist you 'date or dance' with any male at any time, dear."

"I don't follow," said a thoughtful Alan/Eve, hastily explaining, "about the parts, that is. I thought I would be an 'Eve' or 'Alan,' and that was it."

"You are a boy, a future man, a thinker, a fighter; a girl and woman – part-time, and a lover both ways. Each part makes up the whole with some parts we like, and some we abhor. It's natural for boys to want to be big, tough and strong, just as they perceive their fathers to be, so they don't like what they see as girly stuff. Each part plays a role, just like in the movies -- you made a small part of you, Eve, into nearly the whole of you, and she's like a bit player, an extra, who upstages the star, Alan."

There was a moment of silence before Eve spoke: "Uhh, gee, I wish I knew what to say, but I don't."

Nikki said, "Alan, I really would mind if you started thinking of boys, because it would mean I lost you. I knew enough to not say anything and that's because you're the one to decide for your future, no matter what I say."

"Um, gee Nikki, I'm sorry!" he said, supplementing with Eve's thought, "But it is just so confusing to me – in a dress, I feel good, and I get this impression that maybe I should've been a girl – that maybe, somewhere deep down, something happened . . ."

Cathy grinned a Cheshire grin at that. "Oh Alan, sweetheart, that's the soft, feminine side talking – the one that loves lacy things, satin panties, nylon slips and all. Imagine this: you're a driver in a car, racing on the track at two hundred mph. Now under that nice fireproof suit you're wearing nylons, garter belt, satin panties, and a bra. At home, you wear dresses, and have a large case of trophy cups."

Nancy added, "Eve (It was a deliberate use of the feminine), look at me. I played soccer, basketball, and T-ball, at a younger age of course. I wrestled boys and won many times. I swim as well as quite a few. I'm a girl, with a boy in me, yet I still like boys, only a special kind. I don't want to be a boy, dress like a boy, but I want to be me. If dressing in pants is 'me' then that's what I'll wear. If playing baseball is 'me' then I'll play baseball. It doesn't change my essential persona – Nancy."

"Still, it's just so confusing to me!" Alan said, the internal turmoil showing on his made-up face. "I 'feel' don't know who I am."

Vikki replied, "You are a brave young man, trying to sort his way through conflicting ideas about what or who he should be, what society tells him to be, and your thoughts are running wild. You're analyzing every aspect of your present situation reading into it meanings that weren't meant to be there. Alan, relax dear; enjoy the moment! Be happy and stop thinking that because you dress as a girl, like things a girl likes, you automatically lose your male heterosexuality."

"And that's an order!" barked sergeant Nancy, "C'mon, let's get you ready for our walk."

Upstairs in Nikki's room, Eve was stripped to her basics: training bra and panties. 'He' even felt like a wonder woman.

Looking over to the left side, he watched Nikki strip and sashay over to select a few items from her closet. The wiggle in her walk, the sway of her hair, the faint aroma of her bodily perfume – all were s-o-o-o alluring. <Can you sing "Tenting Tonight, Tenting Tonight?"> How the hell any male could exude the sexual appeal of pretty young girls, like Nikki and Nancy, was well beyond his ken, and would damn well stay that way. (Alan, what the hell were you thinking! You loooove girls, and there's no getting around that – thank the Goddess.)

[Author's note: I feel it necessary to say that I agree 1000 percent with Alan's observation here – that a nicely clothed woman, well made-up, has more appeal to moi than any male ever could have, even if he had ten one thousand dollar bills in his mouth.]

"Okay, first a camisole," Nancy crooned, "but first, fold a tissue and place it across your mouth."

Curious, before doing so, Alan asked, "Why?"

"You have lipstick on, or almost on – you'll need to repair it," Nancy exclaimed, "and the tissue keeps the lipstick from marking up those delicate items. Remember this, too, whenever you're out, eating, to repair your makeup at the first opportunity."

"Oh," s/he said, "seems logical." The tissue was placed over the lips, and Nancy continued.

The camisole she slipped over his head was of opaque white nylon with princess shoulder straps, a scoop neck with lace edging, and was followed by a gorgeous pair of knee-length white pettipants with a frilly lace hem.

"Gee, these are just like . . . like . . . ," Eve started, removing the tissue.

"Like pantalets – what they wore around the time of the Civil War," finished Nikki. "They feel nice under slacks!"

A creamy blouse with Peter Pan collar, ruffled button-up front, and wrist-length sleeves with frilly cuffs was put on and fastened by Nancy. Next, a pair of plum slacks with an elasticized waistband was stepped into and pulled up. <Nikki was right again – the pantalets do feel nice mused Eve.>

('Alan' almost said, "I can dress myself," but it was s-o-o-o-o much more fun having Nancy do it – and that's for sure!!)

Pairs of white anklets and beaded moccasins almost completed the dressing.

"Eh, no diapers," queried Eve.

Nancy giggled as she answered, "I don't think they'll be necessary, unless . . . ."

"Oh that's good! I'll try to control myself from lusting after a gray squirrel – the red ones, I'm not so sure about!"

"Put this on, Eve," Nancy said while holding out a light plum bolero jacket and giggling at the image of Alan chasing a squirrel up a tree, "the woods are fairly cool."

Eve took the jacket, admiring the vine-and-rose embroidered design decorating the edges of the front.

"Turn it around, Eve, see what's on the back!"

Doing that, she was startled to see the whole back was covered in embroidered American Beauty roses and green vines connecting them.

"Wow!! This is a real work of art, Nancy. Did you do this?"

"The whole thing – it's all yours, dear."

Uh-oh, the tears again. "Gee, Nancy – I . . . I am at a loss . . . thank you so very much," Eve sniffed. "It's so beautiful."

"Tears of joy, Eve?" asked Nikki.

"You bet! This is just too much," said an ecstatic Alan/Eve <Yes, each was happy in their own right.>

Alan lovingly air-kissed his gift pendant before putting it on, then allowed Nikki to fit the Pageboy wig. Sitting in front of a mirror, while repairing the lipstick (although it didn't appear to need it), he admired himself while Nancy brushed and adjusted the hairpiece.

"Nancy," he said turning his head to face her, "honestly, do I make an attractive girl? Please, the truth."

Nancy smiled, shook her head, then replied to his question, "Eve, dear, you are too pretty to be merely attractive. Really and truly, if you eat properly, exercise regularly, and take good care of your skin -- at eighteen, you could easily be a top-rated model. So, what do you want to be?"

"That's just it – I don't know."

"There, all set. Let's talk on our walk, shall we?"

The trio was soon downstairs, and after informing Cathy as to their whereabouts, they headed out through the front double doors to the front porch.

The stained glass windows in the doors to the vestibule caught Eve's eye, as reflected brilliant afternoon sunlight made it sparkle with each pane sending a bright rainbow of multicolored dots chasing each other across the ceiling as the door was opened. The doors, made of highly polished oak, were covered with clear coats of shellac to show off the intricate rings. A laughing cherub's head decorated the top of each panel of glass. Leading out to the porch was a similar set, stained glass and all. Now to a boy, it would be "just a door," but in the here and now, this door was an objet d'art and of great interest to Eve.

"That is so beautiful," said Eve in hushed tones.

"The doors?" replied Nikki, "It's an original from about the '20's. About two years ago, Cathy had both sets of doors removed, sanded, buffed, repainted, waxed, and replaced. We all love them."

Outside on the gray porch, it was a warm summer's day, with a light breeze blowing just enough to cool; it was the kind of day to sprawl out on the grass, play 'she likes me' with daisies, and watch the puffy white monsters float across the sky, hurrying to do battle in some distant land. Today, with a bright sun above, green grass below, it all seemed so right that Eve wanted to yell, scream, shout to the world and universe beyond, "Watch out, all of you, Eve St. John is here!"

Steps led down from the porch to a blacktop driveway. Across from the steps was a parking area, yellow lines dividing marked spaces for eight cars, and surrounding the area were several evergreen trees, one of which Alan knew as a Blue Spruce, the others some kind of pines.

"Eve, to the right. At the end of the porch, go down the steps, and follow the flagstones – we'll be right behind you," Nancy called out.

Eve walked, skipped, danced, and pirouetted to internal sounds of some vaguely remembered long silent orchestra, down the porch to the end, passing two green-painted wicker chairs, a glider, and a gray rocker in the process. Then it was down the steps, where she crossed the driveway that lead to a three-bay garage, over to where irregular gray slate islands crossing an ocean of green, dotted with small yellow boats. She waited, saying excitedly, "C'mon you slowpokes!"

"What are you so happy about, Eve," Nikki inquired.

"I'm with real friends, it's a gorgeous day, I'm out in the air, so why shouldn't I be happy?"

"Gotcha, Nikki," Nancy said, a smile in her voice. "Just go down the path and stop where it curves off to the left."

Eve ambled down the uneven stone walkway; glad to be wearing flats, it would've been very difficult to navigate at her stage in heel training. About halfway down, s/he stopped and pointed towards something on the ground to the left. "Nikki," was her anguished cry, "Look."

Nikki came flying down, followed by Nancy in hot pursuit. Following the fingers, they saw the small lifeless body of a gray squirrel then they heard sounds of a brave boy trying to hold back tears.

"Hey, what's wrong kiddo," asked Nancy.

"That poor little thing," replied a tremulous Eve, "I saw it and had this mental image that maybe an hour ago, it was running around, full of life, enjoying the sun, hurling itself from tree to tree looking for food, and now it's . . . it's d-d-d-dead." The crying continued.

Nikki hugged this soft, sensitive, wonderful boy. She softly said, "Its all right, Eve sweetheart. It is the way of the world. Birth, life, death – these are all natural. We all must go sometime."

"I know I shouldn't feel this way, but it looks so little, so helpless. Oh Nikki, I'm so sorry," Eve pathetically replied, tears streaming down her face, "It's just that things like that get to me. It hurts me inside, and I just need to release it – back where I used to live, I had to carry around a lot of hurts."

Nancy soothed him, saying, "Cry when you need to, laugh when you can. You'll be a better man for it."

"We'll bury it later, okay?"

"Okay," a relieved Eve said, as Nikki and Nancy kissed the hurt away.

Holding hands, as they continued to the end of the meandering trail of stone where a dirt path took up trailblazing duties, 'Alan' stated, "I guess you think I'm some big sissy, hunh?"

Nancy replied, "Thinking of others, sensitivity to others doesn't make you a sissy, dear! We, Nikki, Cathy, and myself, all regard it as an admirable trait."

When they were at the point requested, Nancy pointed off to the left and gave her best tourist speech: "About 50 yards from here is a stone foundation that was once part of a barn. It held farming implements, three horses and feed, and a wagon to haul produce into town."

"What did they grow on the farm," queried Eve, feeling much better from the girls' kindness.

"Tomatoes, onions, peppers, potatoes, apples, peaches, and, I think, several kinds of beans," replied Nancy. "It was about 1917 or '18 that the barn was destroyed by fire. The horses were saved, but the barn was never rebuilt. There was a dirt road that ran from the barn to the town over a wooden bridge – let's go take a look."

The trio walked about fifty feet in a right diagonal direction down a gentle dirt slope, carefully avoiding tree roots, bushes, and loose rocks. Eve could hear and smell a creek. Soon they came upon a fairly swift rivulet which seemed to be about twenty feet across, its bubbling waters flowing down a bed studded with mossy boulders. On the opposite bank, two weeping willows, a paper bark birch, a chestnut tree and several bushes stood, like sentinels guarding a sacred place. Nearly 100 feet on left stood a small wooden bridge, approximately forty feet long, and wide enough for two people to pass.

Nancy continued her spiele: "This is a fairly new bridge. Almost three years ago, someone tried to drive across the old one. The wood was rotting and dried out, and the car wound up in the creek. About two months ago, they finished this one."

"What's on the other side?"

Nikki informed her, "Vikki lives about 200 yards up the road, where the paved road ends -- there's a barrier that keeps cars from going any further. Then there's Judy's house, next to hers, and Mrs. Smith – I don't think that's her real name. On the other side lives Mike Pawaulchek, his wife and their son who work a truck farm. He grows mostly corn and tomatoes, with other seasonal vegetables. Also, his son cuts the grass and weeds our gardens."

"C'mon," Nancy stated, "Have we got something to show you – close your eyes, and we'll lead you there."

With Nikki and Nancy holding her hands, Eve stumbled along like a sailor on a rolling and tossing ship, hearing all about the neighbors – Mike's twenty-five-year-old son and his soon-to-be bride, speculation on Mrs. Smith's real name, and how much fun this year's celebration will now be. Moving along quite carefully, they led her from side to side, avoiding tree roots, bushes and low hanging limbs, roughly following the creek for a distance of about 100 yards, then up a small grassy slope. There they stopped and Nancy pointed off to the left, "There!"

"Can I look?"

"You dunderhead! Sure," Nikki said gleefully.

Eve looked in the direction indicated and got a big surprise!

  

  

  

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