Anita and I Copyright 2001 by Samantha Michelle

Standard warning and disclaimer: All characters are fictional. If you see yourself, buy a new mirror. Contains subjects some people may find offensive. If you are one of them, why are you reading this? Protect your kids. If you are worried about them reading this sort of material, please censor free speech and use a safe surfing program such as net nanny. Or better yet, teach them early and lovingly to understand and accept different lifestyles. Before they learn from bad experiences.

All constructive comments are welcome. Please e-mail to me: Sam@pobox.alaska.net or samanthas_michelle@yahoo.com

Finally, this is a piece of adult fiction. If you are underage, or if you find it offensive, please go elsewhere. Quickly.

 

Anita and I                        by: Samantha Michelle

 

Anita and I grew up as tumbleweeds. Mom was a hard-hat equipment operator, Dad a strong back with a weak mind. Everyone said he used to be really smart, an engineer, but now he did day labor, sweeping floors and cleaning up construction sites. He'd came down with some weird tropical fever while on some "humanitarian" mission with the Air Force, and after that he was more like a little kid. He was still kind and gentle and we all loved him. But even with the pension and benefits the from the government, money was always tight, and we had to move wherever Mom found work.

We actually spent a full school year in one place, back when I was in third grade. Anita is not quite two years older, and one grade ahead of me. And she seems to be able to make friends within hours of our moving to a new location. I'm was quiet and studious, and seem to blend into the scenery without trying.

Because we were always short on money, Anita and I always had to share a bedroom. Even after she started to grow up into a young woman. I guess it was through necessity that we quit being body-conscious. Not enough space, and usually only one bathroom. Mom didn’t seem to worry, but she grew up in the country. And bragged about going skinny-dipping in the creek. Dad just didn’t notice much.

Because Mom and Dad, when they worked, were gone long hours, we were used to taking care of ourselves. So both of us could cook and iron and do dishes, and even mend our own clothes.

It was just after Mom took a new job in southwestern Michigan that Dad began having seizures. It about scared all of us to death, and when the report came back from the hospital, Mom came apart. We held and cared for her for three days before she was able to face the doctor's diagnosis. Something that was left over from the fever had returned, and the antibiotics were not working. Dad died two days later in his sleep.

Mom was too depressed to go to work, and soon our meager savings were almost gone. The government said that Dad died of what they called a service-related condition, and so we continued to get some money from them. But it wasn't enough to pay the rent and buy food. So we were kicked out of where we were living, and wound up in a shelter that usually helped migrant workers. Anita had the smarts to spend a little of our money and put everything we owned into a storage place.

We had been in the shelter for about a week when the people from the state family support services found the three of us. Mom hadn’t bathed in god only knows how long, and we were pretty grubby ourselves. Mom just tried to shoo them away and sat there crying. So they managed to get Anita and me away where they could talk to us. When they listened to our story, they made a fuss, and declared us in need of assistance.

It took the county sheriff and two deputies to help the medics pack Mom up and take her to the hospital. She fought them and wound up wrapped up like a cocoon and sedated. The people from the state took us to a different shelter for the night, where we got a chance to shower and wash our clothes. I guess because of my really long hair they mistook me for a girl, and to stay with Anita I didn’t tell them they goofed. They figured it out the next morning, and yelled at us a little. We didn't care.

In the morning we were taken to see a judge, who listened to our story and to the people from the state. A doctor, I guess he was a psychiatrist, from the hospital told all of us that Mom was suffering from what he called a stress-related crisis, and that she needed to be hospitalized and receive medication and counseling. He looked sadly at us and said that it would be at least several months before she would be able to care for us properly.

Anita begged the judge to keep us together no matter what, and I added my tears and pleading. So when he made us temporary wards of the state, he directed the family support types to keep us together. He also directed them to place all of the money from Dad's pension into a savings account for us. When Anita said she had placed our belongings in storage, he amended his order to require them to make payments from that account. We were both surprised by his final statement.

"These two children have been deprived of their family because their father did his civic duty, and died from his wounds. It would be amiss for me to do less than to direct that the state take temporary responsibility for them, and their needs, and assume all of the costs for their proper care, upkeep, and education until such time as this court rules they may be returned to their mother's care, or this court rules that other arrangements be made for their care, or this court emancipates them upon reaching their majority."

Anita and I held each other as he closed the hearing, and came over to give us his wishes for our mother's speedy recovery. We cried as we were escorted out of the court, and the people from the state took us back to their offices. There we learned that for two kids our age, finding a place for us was going to be difficult. One person suggested that we be transferred to a city, but Anita and I both got upset at that idea. We had lived in rural areas all our lives, and wanted nothing to do with crowds and gangs.

"Why can’t you just get Will and me an apartment? We're used to taking care of ourselves and will be just fine, and…" They were shaking their heads.

"You are thirteen and your brother is twelve. If you were sixteen and the judge would agree, we could. But until one of you is sixteen, you must be where you can be supervised by a responsible adult." The woman looked tired. "We rarely have placements for children your age, and almost never where brothers and sisters can be placed together." She looked at her compatriots, who nodded.

"We've always shared a bedroom. So what's the problem?" The woman shook her head.

"The state requires that male and female children under state care must have separate rooms if any of the children are twelve or older." I gave her a disgusted look, and she shrugged helplessly.

We spent the next week in another temporary shelter. The other kids were mostly runaways or kids pulled out of where they were abused. We didn’t fit in at all. They scared us. So on Monday we quietly disappeared from the shelter, and headed off on our own. Anita made a quick stop at an automatic teller, and found that another deposit had been made from Dad's pension. So she pulled out all the money she could, and divided it between us. There were a lot of migrant workers heading out to the orchards and fields, so we blended in as best we could, and wound up catching a ride on a rickety bus out into a forested area dotted with groves of apple trees. Instead of following the workers into orchard, we waited till the bus left for another run, and quietly hiked down a side road, then ducked into the woods.

We looked at each other. "Well little brother, we're out of their clutches, and still together. Now what?" I pulled out a candy bar that we had purchased where we got the cash.

"How about a snack, and then let's see if we can find a place to spend the night." So we munched some high-energy food, and watched from a very well hidden location as a county sheriff's car went zipping up and down the road. "Think they're looking for us?" Anita shrugged.

"Does it really matter?" We decided to keep to the woods for the rest of the day.

It was getting close to evening, and we were hungry and tired. And had found nothing. "Maybe this was a bad idea." Anita sat on a log and looked at me.

"We couldn’t stay there another day. Remember what that one kid said, that he'd get you into bed whether you wanted to or not?" She cringed and nodded. "So even if they pick us up we can claim abuse and maybe get to see that judge again." She gave me a hug.

"Well, we can't stay here, so let's keep looking." It was almost dark when we found an abandoned farmhouse, and cleared a spot for us to sleep. We ate some more of our food, and drank the last of our sodas. Covered with insect repellent, which we had bought when we first got cash, we curled up together and fell asleep.

The next morning we woke early to a gray day. We each ate a candy bar, packed up, and headed out. We skirted a small town, and near a larger town found a map at a gas station that also had an automatic teller. With our packs refilled with food and drinks, and more money hidden away, we were surprised to see several girls around our age get out of a big private bus that stopped for fuel, and the use of a washroom by the driver. Anita chatted with one of the kids, and when the bus departed, there were two extra passengers hidden in the back seats. Us.

We chatted with the kids in the seats in front of us. They were all headed to some sort of summer camp sponsored by a women's group, and said that no one would notice two extra girls. I didn’t say anything about not being a girl, and Anita played it by ear. It turned out to be only a few more miles up the road.

The driver parked the bus, and told everyone that he was going inside to regain his sanity, and that they were to unload all their stuff and pair up in the long dormitory looking structure where we were parked. As soon as he went inside, we followed his instructions. The rooms were tiny, with built-in bunks. And each had a sink. We changed into clean clothes, and Anita braided my hair into two heavy pigtails. In the mirror I looked like a smaller version of her.

"But how am I…" She waved at me to be quiet.

"You are my tom-boy younger sister Willow. That way no one will get upset if either of us calls you Will." She looked thoughtful. "And to keep it simple, lets use our real names. That makes me Anita Marie Thomas, and you Willow Allen Thomas. Let me see your ID card."

A little mutilation later, and my card was hard to read. But it seemed to show my name was Willow, and I was a girl. We heard someone calling everyone together, and went out to join the others.

Two more buses had arrived, and it was a madhouse. With almost a hundred hyperactive and bored girls running around, attendance was taken by asking the bus driver if they had picked up the proper number of girls. The staff announced that it was time for dinner, and everyone should wash up and get ready to eat. I was afraid when Anita dragged me into the girls' washroom, but there were individual stalls and individual showers. And we needed to get clean. So we went and got clean undies, and towels from the room. Several others had the same idea, so we had to wait for an open shower. Anita helped me brush out my hair in the main washroom area after I showered and re-dressed modestly in the shower stall. She was already clean. And no one gave me a second look, other than to comment on how they liked my long hair.

Dinner was great. Anything warm and edible would have sufficed, but they served some sort of stew and lots of milk. At the end of the meal, the schedule for the next few days was announced. It looked like we would fit right in. They offered a movie to anyone who wanted to watch. We were among the many that looked beat, and opted for an early bedtime. Anita made me help wash our dirty clothes in the sink, and hang them to dry.

It felt so good to have a decent bed to sleep on, with clean sheets and not having to worry about somebody trying to steal our stuff. But I was still lonely, and so was Anita, so we snuggled together in the bottom bunk and dropped off to sleep in minutes.

The explosion on our door turned out to be someone pounding loudly, and telling us it was time to get up. We could hear it repeated all the way down the building. Once we stopped shaking, we quickly dressed and headed off to breakfast. Via the washroom.

By the third day we had made friends with several of our dorm-mates. Apparently the camp was sponsored by some businesswomen to provide summer activities for underprivileged girls living in small towns around the area. Anita would have qualified easily. And with our backgrounds, it was easy to fit in.

Anita and I made up a story to cover where we lived, and our parents, so people would not ask too many questions we couldn’t answer. Mostly people didn’t ask. Everyone was having too much fun. Including us.

There were all sorts of camp-type activities, interspersed with presentations about women's rights and the many careers from which girls today could choose. It was apparent that only the brighter girls were chosen for this camp. And the emphasis was getting them out of the house and into positions of authority. I didn’t see the problem. I mean, I already thought everyone should be able to choose what they wanted.

On Wednesday of the second and last week we were surprised when one of the women that ran the place came and collected us, and took us to the office. We were afraid, and resigned to finding the police waiting for us, but instead there was one of the women who had been giving the presentations.

"I see you have brought me our two stowaways." We held each other as we were motioned to a couch. "I have to admit this is a first. Usually we have to go looking for students who decide to wander off." She seemed not to be too upset. "So before I call the police to come and collect you two, would you be care to explain how you came to drop in on our activities?"

We clung to each other, and Anita took a deep breath. Neither of us was good at outright lying. And I guess she figured that the truth would be no worse than anything else. "We ran away from a shelter where we were afraid we'd get hurt or worse, and we sort of hitched a ride on one of the buses, and everyone was friendly and we don't eat that much…" She held me. "And please, just let us leave quietly. I think we can pay for what we've eaten…"

"How did you two wind up in a shelter?" Anita glanced at me, and I nodded. So she quietly told the woman our story.

"Please, now can you just let us go?" The woman shook her head.

'Those imbeciles at Family Support Services couldn’t find their underwear if it was sewn on." She seemed angry. She looked at Anita. "There is something you are not telling me." We looked at each other. And shrugged. The woman held up a pair of my underwear. Boys underwear. I cringed.

"My sister, er brother couldn’t have stayed here with me if anyone knew she was a boy, so we just didn't tell anyone. No one was hurt, so what does it matter?"

"Even with the evidence, I wasn't sure that she was a boy." She looked at me. "Doesn’t it bother you to be pretending to be a girl?"

I shook my head. "I don’t even think about it. There really isn’t any difference, so why would it matter? I'm just a kid anyway. And what's important was that I could stay with Anita." Anita gave me a stronger hug. The woman seemed thoughtful.

"Well, at least for the moment I'm not going to call anyone, especially Family Support Services. If they get hell for letting you two escape, it is the least I can do to make them suffer a bit more." "That is, if you two are willing to promise not to run away from here." Anita and I looked at each other.

"I'll stay if you agree." She nodded.

"We'll stay. We promise. But are you going to tell the others about Willow?" Anita seemed firm in calling me her sister.

"It would spoil your ability to stay together. So her secret, for now, is safe with me. Now go back and play, and if anyone asks, you were called in to get a message from your parents." We wasted no time in heading back out to join the other girls.

That evening Anita and I discussed what to do. I wanted a home. Anita wanted to get away to where no one knew us. But she agreed that we would follow our promise. We didn’t sleep well.

Friday the woman, whose name we found out was Rosalind, took us aside, and told us not to get on a bus with the others. So we watched in sadness, and fear, as the rest of the girls headed home. A home we wondered if we would ever have.

Rosalind escorted us back to our room. "You two have presented me with an interesting situation. I don't want to put you back in the clutches of the Family Support Services people, and you are too young to let run loose on your own." Anita started to argue, but was waived at to remain silent. "Legally, I should call the sheriff's office and have them come get you. But the missing person's bulletin they issued does say they are looking for a brother and sister, and all I see are two sisters, so I guess you can’t be the ones for whom they are searching." Anita managed to giggle, and I nodded.

She looked at us intently. "So I did some research on my own. They were not lying to you. There are no placements for a brother-sister pair your age in this or any of the surrounding counties. What they didn't bother to tell you was that if any come up, there are at least fifty children ahead of you two on the waiting list. Some have been waiting for over two years." I clung to Anita.

"Because your mother is considered temporarily disabled, you are supposedly not eligible for adoption or long-term placement, which makes the search even more difficult." We stared at her, and she chuckled. "There are some advantages to being a business executive. I have lots of ways of getting information." We nodded.

"What do you plan to do with us?" Anita sounded angry. "We don’t deserve to be played with."

Rosalind nodded. "There are few good options. So I have decided to take a wait and see approach. Since, as you said, the two of you don’t eat much, and this camp runs all summer long, you can stay here until we close up just before school starts in the fall." I grabbed and hugged Anita, who seemed reserved.

"And then what?" Rosalind shrugged.

"We count our blessings and hope that opportunity has left a calling card. So are you willing to promise to stay put, and not run off?"

I looked at Anita and gave her a pleading look. "Please, I like it here, and its warm and safe and we're not all alone and…" Anita nodded.

"We'll stay. But we need more clothes, and, well, I'm going to need some supplies real soon, and …" she blushed. Rosalind giggled.

"I was going to suggest that Willow get some proper girls underwear, and maybe some real girls clothes so there will be less chance of her secret being discovered. The next group won't be here until Sunday, so I will take you both shopping tomorrow."

"But what if someone sees…"

"I'll take you all the way to Battle Creek. You two will just be my nieces out shopping with their aunt Rosalind. No one will question anything. So let's go tell the staff that you two are staying all summer, and that you can help them with the other girls and regular camp activities since you already know the routine."

She got up and took us to meet the woman who actually ran the camp. We wound up helping to collect linens and clean rooms for the incoming group. So we were really ready for bed by dinner time. We ate and helped with the dishes, and everyone wished us a good night. We showered and snuggled together for emotional support.

True to her word, Rosalind arrived just after breakfast. Anita had spent a lot of time on my hair, and had done something to my eyebrows with a tiny scissors that made me look much more like her. Rosalind approved, and we got into her fancy car and headed off for the city.

We played twenty questions the entire way. A lot of the questions were on how we were doing in school, and what we had studied. When Anita and I both lamented that our library, small as it was, was in storage and we had nothing to read, she harumphed. "That I can take care of. No child should be without books." She didn't elaborate. We didn’t ask.

We had expected to be taken to a big, fancy department store. Our first stop was at K-Mart. Anita snickered when Rosalind selected two packages of pastel panties in what she said were my size, and then borrowed a tape measure. I tried to disappear into my shoes when she made me try on some girl's sports bras, and found me two funny jelly-filled things to put in the cups. Anita had to help me, and couldn't stop giggling.

"Willow, most girls your age wear a bra even if they don’t need one. And the little pads simply give you a tiny bit of a figure." I felt silly, but a careful look in the mirror said she was right. I looked like Anita had a couple of years ago. I wound up wearing it, and a pair of the panties, when we left the store.

Anita now had what she called her supplies, and plenty of new underwear. And we had other basic stuff. Like socks.

Our next stop was a charity resale shop, where I found myself, with Anita's overly enthusiastic support, getting a new wardrobe. It was sort of funny. The only difference I could see in most of the stuff was that girls' seemed to be in funny colors, or have lots of little cute animals all over. I balked at getting a couple of obviously girl's blouses and skirts, and two dresses, but Rosalind insisted. Anita added some similar items to her collection.

We were even able to find both of us some newer tennis shoes, and we both got dress shoes, including some with heels.

Rosalind insisted on paying for everything, saying it really wasn't that expensive. Maybe to her.

At Anita's request we stopped at an automatic teller, and found that there was still a lot of money being deposited into the account. So after Anita withdrew as much as she could, Rosalind took us to a bank where she insisted we change most of the cash to traveler's checks. "They can be used almost anywhere, and if they get lost or stolen I can help you get them replaced." Anita liked the idea, so we spent a lot of time signing the little pieces of paper.

Our third stop was a used bookstore. We would have bought enough to fill a truck if Rosalind had not limited us to what we could carry. "Hungry?" We were almost back to Rosalind's car when she mentioned food. We nodded.

"Ah, I've missed this place." We were sitting there too full to think, and Rosalind was leaning back in her chair with a contented expression. The little café where we stopped served Italian food. Anita and I decided to split a lasagna and something wonderful made with what was called an Alfredo sauce.. Rosalind ordered something spicy with shrimp.

The waitress came by, and asked if we were ready for dessert. We were ready for bed. Rosalind smiled at her, and politely declined. Soon we were back on the road. Anita was asleep before we reached the main highway. I lasted about two minutes longer.

She had to help us out of the car and into our room.

Sunday Anita made me wear what she called a culotte skirt, and a bra with the funny pads under a girls blouse. And she put some makeup on me, and showed me how to use a very faint lipstick she called a lip gloss. "Training, Sis. Besides, you really do look good in that outfit."

"I feel silly." She giggled.

"Hey, consider it a uniform. Besides, I'll bet it's comfortable." I nodded. "And nobody will ever think you're really my brother." That was no joke. I looked like a slightly smaller version of Anita, and just like one of the many girls that we had fun with over the past two weeks. I remembered that we were together, and that we had a safe and warm place to stay. And I teared up a bit when I also realized that the people here, especially Rosalind, really did care about us. It took a couple of hugs from Anita, and some tissues, before I was ready to face the arriving horde.

By mid-August the last group was settled in, and neither Anita or I had developed any workable plans for our future. By now we were considered staff, and had name tags and arm-bands to identify us to the other girls. We didn’t want to leave. The other staff had sort of adopted us, and we adopted them. Rosalind didn't have any good news the last time we saw her. Mom was still in really bad shape, and the doctor's were not optimistic about when she might start healing.

After dinner, and helping several girls deal with normal stuff, like sunburns and blisters, we showered and closed up. Anita looked really stressed, and I figured she was thinking about next week. The last of the groups would leave that Friday, and the camp would close for the year that Sunday.

"Willow, I don't want to leave here." She pulled me into a hug, and there were tears in her eyes. "This has become our home, and now we've got to move again, and I don’t want to, and…" She cried on my shoulder for a long time. I felt the same way, but for some reason I felt more in control than I had before.

"Anita, Rosalind said she would be getting with us after her presentation on Tuesday. She's our best chance to find somewhere to spend the winter."

"Last week she said she was hitting walls trying to find a place for us, remember?"

"She doesn't give up easily. And I think she's really trying to help us. It's like we’re a challenge, and she has something to prove." Anita nodded. "Besides, we have enough money to do a lot of traveling if needed." The government finally quit putting money in Mom's ATM account at the first of August, but we each now had almost two thousand dollars in traveler's checks safely hidden away.

"What if she can’t find something? Will she turn us over to the police? She keeps saying we're too young to be out on our own." Anita sniffled. "And she said the Family Services people aren’t even close to finding us a foster family."

I smoothed my skirt under me, and sat at the small table. "Then we ask for a two-day head start and take a bus as far away from here as we can get. And don’t put her in a bind by giving her a way to contact us." I yawned. It had been a long day. "And I agree with Rosalind, whatever we do, we need to stay in school." She nodded

"So let's get some sleep, and enjoy the rest of the summer." We wound up, as we had so many times, sleeping cuddled together in one of the narrow bunks.

We were really stressed by Tuesday, but we managed to help with Rosalind's presentation. She asked if we would mind taking a drive with her, saying that she wanted to be away from the crowd for a while.

We stepped at a small restaurant in a nearby town, where Rosalind found us a private booth. After we ordered, she sat there looking at us. "I remain absolutely amazed at how well Willow has taken to portraying a girl her age." I blushed. "Unless I think about it, there is absolutely nothing that would indicate she was anything but your sister."

"I keep saying that I'm not trying to do anything different." I gestured at my clothes. "I mean, I've had to learn what is supposed to go with what, and Anita made me learn to do my own hair and makeup, but those are just mechanical things." Rosalind shook her head.

"You move and act and talk just like your sister. It's uncanny." She paused when the waitress delivered some of our food. "But that is not what we need to discuss. Have you two come up with any new ideas?"

"Other than our agreeing that we need to stay in school, and not wanting to leave here, no."

She looked sad. "None of my sources has been of any help. There is a shortage throughout the country of foster parents. About the only good news is that the police have taken you two off their search list, and have put your case in the dormant file. I'm pretty sure they think you both have left the state."

"You're sure you can’t let us stay with you?" I stared at Anita.

"Child, I've thought about it. But I've never married, and live a very public life. You two would stand out like beacons where I live. It wouldn’t be long before someone asked a question I couldn’t answer." Anita slumped down in her chair, dejected.

"Can you just forget we were here, and give us a couple of days to get out of town once the camp closes?" She looked like she wanted to agree, but shook her head.

"My conscience won’t let me. Even the Family Support people are better than letting you take you chances on the road." She looked at us again. "you are absolutely sure you have no relatives?"

"Dad was an only child, and his parents died before we were born. Mom's brother is in prison in Texas for selling drugs, and her parents died when we were little. She told us there were no great-aunts or great-uncles left."

"Do you know exactly how much money you two receive from your father's pension?"

Anita gave her what we knew. "And they said something about with Dad dead and Mom in the hospital, we should get some extra from Social Security, but that it takes like a year to get started. Besides, they are in control of all the money now, and we'd have to turn ourselves in." Rosalind was scribbling notes on a napkin. "Besides the judge told the people at the hearing that he was directing the state to assume all of the costs for our proper care, upkeep, and education." She jumped like someone had stabbed her. She made us repeat exactly what the judge had said.

"Don’t give up hope, or run off yet. I need to do some research. Lets get back to the camp."

When we returned most of the girls were already in bed, so we closed up quietly, afraid to discuss what might happen to us once the camp was closed.

Rosalind was not scheduled for Wednesday's presentations, and so when Thursday afternoon came, we were ready to pack and leave. She spotted us, and told us she had some new information, and to meet her after supper at the camp office. We couldn't tell if she had found anything, so we jittered our way through the afternoon. I was too nervous to eat, and all Anita could manage was a few bites. We almost ran over to the office.

Rosalind was sitting there, reading through a sheaf of papers, and waived us onto the couch. She looked stressed, but was smiling.

"I never thought to ask who the judge was that placed you two in state custody." Her comment made little sense. "So when you told me about the wording of his order, I had my lawyer get me a copy of the decree." She hefted a stack of paper. "And when I saw who signed the papers, lots of things fell into place."

We perked up. She seemed upbeat for the first time in a month. "Judge Ashton is an old friend of my family's, and a rather earthy person for a lawyer. So I called him before the presentation this afternoon, and told him about you two.

"No…, you promised you wouldn’t call the police…" Anita jumped up and looked like she was going to run out the door." I grabbed her, and pulled her back to the couch. She was shaking with anger and fear.

"He is not the police, and was extremely upset when he found out how you two were treated by the Family Support people." She looked at us. "And he agrees with me that you two are too young to be without supervision." Anita went from angry to upset, and started to cry.

"So what are we supposed to do, just sit around until someone finally decides to have us hauled off?" I was feeling angry too.

"No, you are going to quit throwing tantrums and sit tight till he gets here in about an hour to talk with you." She made her point, and we both flinched.

We apologized for acting like brats, and Rosalind smiled. "I don't blame you. By now I'd have been screaming my head off." She sent me over to our room to get something for each of us to read, and we tried to divert our attention to the books while she continued to do paperwork. A loud knock at the door almost made us pee our panties.

Rosalind did the honors, and we were surprised when she gave the judge, who was wearing jeans, a hug and a kiss.

"If anyone was to get involved in runaway kids and social unrest, I should have anticipated it would be you." The judge took a chair and sat down. He looked us over. "Well, they seem to be in excellent health." He paused and stared at me. "But isn't the younger one supposed to be a boy?" I tried to shrink into the couch, and Rosalind laughed.

"Let me tell you the story…" The judge was making notes on a tablet, and chuckling as she finished. "So I figured that the best way to find a solution at this point was to have you meet them outside the courtroom, and hear what their concerns are first-hand." He was nodding.

"As usual, straight to the point via the longest possible route." She gave him an annoyed look. He turned his attention to us. "Well, it sounds like it's your turn."

Anita blurted out our concerns and fears, and I added my two cents whenever I thought they would help. When we finished, he looked up from his tablet. We were startled to find he was smiling as he addressed Rosalind.

"The solution is so simple I'm surprised you haven’t already figured it out." She looked at him like he was nuts. "Considering that your charity group helps fund their activities." She still looked baffled.

"The assisted living program?"

Rosalind gasped, and nodded." Of course, but at their age…"

"Placement is at the discretion of the court. They are honest, reliable, and self-sufficient. And they need someone who needs them."

"Um, what are you two talking about?" Anita seemed agitated.

"I help sponsor a program that provides live-in helpers to professional women who are physically challenged or medically fragile. Most only need help with physically intense activities, like housework and carrying groceries. And who need someone to provide companionship." She looked at us. "You are, in many ways, more qualified than many of the people we hire." She looked at the Judge.

"It may take a few weeks, but there's always a long waiting list and…"

"And I will leave it up to you to take care of then until you are ready to present a potential guardian to the court. For the interim, I recommend that you bring these two to my court on Wednesday, after two. I will have a hearing arranged with Family Support Services, who will be very glad, I suspect, to go along with almost anything. Or I will hold them in contempt for violating my first order. You are a sufficiently upstanding citizen that having you appointed their guardian won’t be a problem."

"But I'm not married, and…" Anita and I almost bowled her over with hugs.

"Please, we like you and we won't mess up your house and…"

Rosalind finally managed to get free. "My old friend, I will get you for this…" But she was smiling. And holding on to us.

That Wednesday we were back in court. The same people from Family Support Services looked really startled when I was announced as Willow, and the Judge read them a riot act about putting us in a situation were we had to run away for our safety. So they were more than happy to let Rosalind become our guardian. We found out that Mom was probably going to get better, but was being transferred to a long-term care facility. We cried a lot, but Rosalind held us and we finally got ourselves together. The judge, in an official capacity, wished us well.

We moved in with Rosalind in the fanciest house we had ever seen. And were very careful not to mess anything up. Rosalind seemed to enjoy playing mommy, and we needed the support. So it was with a lot of trepidation that we greeted the news that she had finally found someone she felt was a good match with us.

We shouldn't have worried. The moment we set foot in Rhianna's big old farmhouse, we felt at home. Rhianna was about Mom's age, with a gentle smile and two crutches. Rosalind told us she had been badly injured in a car accident a couple of years ago, and would soon be forced to leave her farm because she couldn’t handle the chores and run her business without help. Our duties would be housecleaning, some gardening and farm chores, and helping her with physical things.

We were surprised when we found out she could home-school us if we wanted. The interview lasted almost two hours. And we cried a bit when Rosalind drove off without us. But they were happy tears.

Rhianna had her bedroom on the first floor, so we got the run of the upstairs. The place was huge. And she really needed our help. Almost as much as we need her hugs.

Ree, as we called her, came into the kitchen. "That smells wonderful. Did you get the apples from the trees in the back yard?" I nodded, and pointed to a pile of apple chunks.

"No pesticides, guaranteed. Those were some happy caterpillars." She chuckled. Anita was busy scrubbing vegetables.

"And we've finished our homework, so don’t nag us. We even managed all A's on our quizzes at school." Ree slowly lowered herself into a chair.

"Have I told you lately how much I love having you two here?" Anita and I wiped our hands and hugged her.

"Have we told you how much we love you?" That got a lot of tears from everyone.

Ree had petitioned the court for guardianship after we had been there a month. And Judge Ashton granted her petition. That was almost a year ago.

She drove us to visit Mom in the hospital last month. It was the first time we had seen Mom since they took her to the hospital. It was hard to face her thin, worn face, but she was smiling and incredibly happy to see us. After we talked with her doctor, he told us she was finally doing better, and would probably be ready to leave the hospital in a few months.

Anita and I suddenly were scared. We loved Mom, but Ree needed us, and we had truly become her children. So we called Rosalind for ideas. Rosalind made a suggestion to the doctor, and we all wound up talking to Ree.

It turned out that when Mom got out of the hospital she would have to go into some sort of halfway house so she could be monitored and helped until she was ready to be on her own again. So with Ree's approval, we suggested that she move in with us at Ree's place. Mom grew up on a farm, and the doctor said that a peaceful rural setting would be best for her. Ree wanted to meet Mom first, and it turned out they hit it off right away.

So we have prepared her a room, and are going to the hospital tomorrow with a fresh-baked pie. We are hoping that the doctor gives her the okay to come home before Thanksgiving. It will be interesting to see how she does getting along with two daughters. Or should I say one daughter, and a part-time son. Her doctor has said he will make sure she is ready to handle my situation before she comes home.

The school threw a fit when they found out I was really a boy. So to keep them from tossing me out, I went back to being Will for a while. And found it really was no different, except I really like the feel of the girls stuff better. I had to see a psychiatrist and psychologist and go through a bunch of tests, but finally everyone agreed that I was as much Willow as Will. So they finally came up with a diagnosis that I suffer from something that they called a gender-identity disorder. And told the school they had to let me attend as Willow if that's what I wanted.

So I compromised and show up as both. Not at the same time, of course. For the fall dance I'm definitely coming as Will. Sandy, my girl friend, likes me either way. But she really wants to be the girl when we dance.

I've also started taking some medicine to keep me from looking too much like a boy. Or is that too little like a girl? Whatever. I hope it works.

Anita has decided she really likes living on a farm. Even if it means occasionally cleaning out a chicken coop. Me, I'm planning on enjoying the rest of my high school time, and then going to college to study law. Judge Ashton and Rosalind have said they will sponsor me.

We still miss Dad a lot. But we've learned that there is always someone else out there that needs our love, and has love to give us. I guess that's why Anita and I seem to wind up talking to the kids who are having troubles. And sometimes bringing one home for a hot meal and a hug.

--Finis.

 

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