Bless Me Father
by: Deane Christopher
edited by: Steve Zink

 

8 – COURTSHIP

Mickey De Angelo posed a real problem for Karen Miller. While the former Catholic priest liked Mickey as a friend, she was slowly but surely beginning to recognize the fact that she was starting to like him in ways that went way beyond the bounds of the platonic friendship they mutually agreed upon at the outset of their relationship. As much as it rankled the former Catholic priest to entertain such disturbing thoughts, Karen had begun to grudgingly face the fact that Mickey was starting to really get to her in ways she had never imagined.

Within a few weeks of waking up to find that manly mind of hers ignominiously housed within the body of a young woman, Karen had come to grudgingly accept the fact that when it came to her sexual preference, she was definitely a lesbian. Then, several weeks after giving birth to that beautiful baby girl of hers, Karen got an up close and extremely provocative view of her new and improved self in the bathroom mirror and in so doing, found herself forced to add the term narcissist to her laundry list of sexual proclivities.

It was in the wake of accepting the fact that she was in lust-love with herself that the dreams started. Seesawing erratically between lesbian and narcissistic themes and, at times, a surrealistic and cockamamie intermingling the two, Karen’s long suppressed sense of sensuality was honed to a raw, and almost eager, edge.

Initially, Karen was repulsed and sickened by the depraved intensity of the dreams. However, that prudish, knee-jerk reaction of hers quickly subsided as the former priest began to become at first intrigued and shortly thereafter, enamored with the erotic rush that such dreams engendered within her.

As one might expect, night dreams spawned day dreams, as Karen sought to recall and, subsequent to that, rekindle the mood of the cavorting mind-candy they lavished upon her. Often, she would employ those dream born fantasies of hers as a readily available means to stoke the fires of her ardor. Then, once those whimsical erotic recollections of hers got those satin-slick juices of femininity flowing, she would use those seductive mind excursions as sensual backdrops to further enhance those teasingly frantic, self-targeted finger-feints that she so deftly employed to tickle the elusive nub of that wondrous new fancy of hers.

In the beginning, a sexually idealized rendition of her girlfriend, Gabriella, was conjured up to served as the primary hub around which Karen’s erotic dreams were spun. Later, once Karen became alarmingly aware that she was not only a lesbian, but a full fledged narcissist as well, those dreams of hers began to serve up a myriad of permutations. Sometimes, Karen would be her old manly self getting it on with Gabriella. At other times, she would be her female self sexually interacting with Gabriella. And, still other times, her dreams would present an image of her male self getting it on with her female self.

And, then the unthinkable thing happened. One night, in the midst of one of Karen’s erotic dream sequences, the image of Gabriella, who had increasingly begun to sport a man’s penis, morphed fluidly into the image of Mickey De Angelo.

 

+

 

 

"Gabriella," a clearly troubled Karen clandestinely intoned the next morning at the breakfast table. "I had another one of those dreams of mine last night."

"You did, did you?"

Then, though she already knew the answer, Gabriella continued on to inquire, "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes..." a subdued and slightly distracted Karen replied uneasily. "Yes, I did. God help me! I enjoyed it immensely!"

"Good. I’m glad to hear that."

"You might be, but I’m not," Karen returned cryptically.

"How come? I mean, I thought you told me that you really enjoyed those dreams you’ve been having?"

"I do enjoy them! And, though I hate to admit this, I have to say that I enjoyed the one I had last night even more than all the others I’ve had combined!"

"And, that’s a bad thing?"

"Yes, Gabriella! In this instance, it most certainly is a bad thing!"

"Well... are you going to leave me hanging, girl? Or, are you going to tell me just why you found this particular dream of yours so troubling?"

Karen, though she was more than a little squeamish about doing so, gave Gabriella a general overview of her dream.

"Oh! Now, that is interesting. Perverted. But, interesting nonetheless...

"Okay. So, let me get this straight. In this dream of yours, I grow a man’s thingie and then, shortly after I enter you, I just up and change into Mickey?"

Karen confirmed that her girlfriend had the general gist of what that dream of hers had portrayed.

"And, you’re saying that you liked it?"

"Yes!" Karen was indignant. "As much as I hate to say this, Gabriella, I liked it a lot!"

"And, it felt like it was actually happening?"

"Oh, yeah! As farfetched and perverted as these dreams of mine are, they are very intense. I mean, when I wake up, I actually have a hard time separating false from true. That’s to say that these dreams that I’ve been having are so vivid that they almost seem real."

"So..." Gabriella sought clarification, "you had a dream! And, by your own admission, you enjoyed it! So, tell me. What’s the problem?"

"The problem is, it was Mickey! I dreamed that it was Mickey who ended up making love to me!"

"Okay... so it was Mickey who made love to you. So what? I don’t see the problem. After all, it was only a dream."

"But, I liked it!" a distraught Karen heatedly charged. "I liked it a lot..."

 

+

 

 

Though she did everything she could, Karen could not stop thinking about Mickey. Over and over and over again, she would catch herself fantasizing about what it would be like were he to kiss her, were he to tenderly fondle her, were he to actually have that gross male thingie of his nestled ever so snugly up inside of her.

And, the more she thought about it, the more she found herself warming to the idea that it might prove extremely interesting to find out what it would be like were Mickey to make love to her.

Oddly enough, Karen was quick to realize, Mickey was the only male that she came in contact with that tugged at her heart strings. Grudgingly, she came to recognize the fact that the more she was in his presence, the more giddy and sexually excited she was becoming.

Succinctly put, Mickey made Karen feel like the woman she had become. Just thinking about him caused a marked suppression of that rather healthy male ego of hers.

 

+

 

 

"Mickey," Jean Miller said one evening at the dinner table. "Can I ask you to do me a big favor and get my daughter out of the house sometime over the weekend so that my husband and I can have some personal time alone with our new granddaughter?"

"Sure, Aunt Jean," Mickey replied. "I’d be happy to..."

 

+

 

 

Later, once she and her Mother were alone in the kitchen together, Karen sternly snapped, "Mother! What on earth did you go and do that for?"

Playing innocent, Jean Miller nonchalantly countered, "Do what, dear?"

"Ask Mickey to take me out!"

"Oh! I thought I explained that already."

"You did! But, you know as well as I do that that’s not why you asked Mickey to take me out!"

"Are you suggesting that I had an ulterior motive for asking Mickey to get you out of the house, Karen?"

"Yes, Mother! I am!"

"Well, all I can say is, that was very perceptive of you, dear..."

 

+

 

 

"My, my!" Gabriella gleefully taunted. "Don’t you look all nice and pretty this morning. I mean, if I didn’t know better, I would think that you’re going out on a date or something..."

"Gabriella!" Karen’s inflection conveyed a clear sense of warning. "Please! Don’t make this any harder on me than it already is!"

"Hey! Don’t go getting testy on me, girl! Besides, I was under the impression that you wanted to go out with Mickey."

"I do and I don’t!" Karen replied thoughtfully.

"I mean, there’s a part of me that wants nothing more than to go out with him! But, there’s another part of me that doesn’t! That’s to say that I’m really apprehensive about all of this, Gabriella!

"I mean, while I might look like a girl, on the inside - where it counts! - I’m a still guy, for Christ’s sake! And, here I am getting all gussied up to go out with another guy!

"I mean, is that crazy or what?"

"Truer words were never said, girl. But, trust me. You’re going to really enjoy yourself."

"I kind of think so, too... but, I’m still apprehensive."

"Well, considering that this is the first date you’ve ever been on, either as a guy or a girl, you’ve got every right to be feeling a little apprehensive. But, be that as it may, if you just relax and go with the flow, I guarantee that you’ll enjoy yourself.

"Remember, this is Mickey you’re going out with. Not some total stranger. Believe me, Karen. You can trust him."

"It’s not him I’m worried about. It’s me."

"You mean to tell me that you like him that much?"

"Yeah... I kind of think I do..."

"Oh!" it was Gabriella’s turn to sound thoughtful. "Well, though I don’t suspect anything like this is going to happen, just to be on the safe side, maybe I ought to take the extra precaution of putting a couple of condoms in your purse..."

"Gabriella!"

 

+

 

 

Having gained her Mother’s repeated assurance that Little Danielle would be just fine, Karen allowed Mickey to escort her out to his car.

"So, what did you have in mind for the two of us to do today?" Karen inquired as she fastened her seatbelt.

"Well, since it’s such a beautiful day, I was kind of thinking that it might be nice for us to go on one of those harbor cruises."

 

+

 

 

Initially, Karen found it awkward and, to a degree, intimidating being alone with Mickey. She was noticeably ill at ease and because she was, their conversation started off stilted and forced.

"Karen," Mickey finally said as he deftly maneuvered his car about Harbor Cruise’s parking lot, "is there something wrong? I mean, if you’re concerned about Danielle and your mother, you shouldn’t be. Trust me. Everything will be okay."

Though Karen could have easily skirted the truth by telling an innocent white lie, she opted not to run the risk of offending God by doing so. "Oh, it’s not that. I mean, knowing my Mom the way I do, I know everything will be just fine."

"All right, then! If you’re not worried about them, is it me? Am I doing something wrong?"

Stammering, Karen countered, "You? No! Never! You’re being the perfect gentleman. Frankly, Mickey, I don’t think it’s in your nature to do anything wrong. I mean, for my money, you’re the epitome of what every Boy Scout is supposed to be!

"That’s to say that you’re physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight!"

"Hey!" Mickey mockingly complained. "While I appreciate the sentiments, I’ve got to tell you that I’m anything but a saint."

"I never said that you were saint. An angel... maybe. But, never a saint. What I am saying is, you’re a great guy, Mickey. And, I count myself lucky to have you as a friend."

"Well..." Mickey, who was clearly uncomfortable with all the flattering sentiments that Karen had just lavished upon him, awkwardly replied, "I could say pretty much the same thing about you.

"That’s to say that I’ve never ever met a girl quite like you before. You’re easy to talk to. You’re fun to be with. And, I have to say that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.

"But, I’ve got to say, you’re also different..."

"How so?"

"Well... for starters - and, I mean this as a compliment! - there’s no getting around the fact that you’re a real tomboy at heart, in that you come across more like a guy than a girl about certain things..."

 

+

 

 

Karen was never entirely clear on when it happened or, for that matter, where it happened. Nor, could she recall precisely how it happened. And, while she harbored the sneaky suspicion that she may well have instigated it, she was never entirely sure. All she knew was, she was strolling along the Harbor Lady’s observation deck hand in hand with Mickey. And, she liked it. She liked it a lot. It somehow felt right. It somehow felt like the most normal thing in the world for her and Mickey to be doing.

 

+

 

 

After the boat ride, on Mickey’s suggestion, they toured the nearby Maritime Museum. After that, Mickey dove them back out to the suburbs where he insisted on treating Karen to dinner at a newly opened Outback Steak House.

"Karen," Mickey said as his fork sliced into a generous wedge of French apple pie, "I don’t mean to be presumptuous here. But, did our relationship undergo a substantial change today? Or, am I reading something into all of this that maybe I shouldn’t be?"

Reaching across the table, Karen tenderly took Mickey’s left hand in her right one as she softly intoned, "Mickey, I like you. Fact is, I like you a lot. Hell! I like you so much that I’m probably well on the way to falling in love with you! And, I think you like me. And, if you’re willing to give it go, I’d really like to see where all this might lead.

"However, before we get anymore involved than we already are, there’s something that I really need to tell you."

"Okay. So tell me," Mickey gentle urged.

"All right. I will. But, not here. Not with all these people around. I’ll tell you when we’re out in the car..."

 

+

 

 

And, that is just what she did. Clutching Mickey’s right hand in both of hers, Karen uneasily told Mickey that she had once been both a man and a priest. Then, before Mickey had a chance to get a word in edgewise, she proceeded to give him her take on what had precipitated her miraculous sexual reassignment.

Without making mention of the fact that she had learned that the former occupant of her present body had been seriously considering having an abortion while hearing the willful twenty-year-old’s confession, the former Catholic priest told Mickey that she had been so moved that she - as the he that she had been - had asked God to intervene on behalf of the unborn baby. Karen told him how he had prayed to God, incessantly imploring Him to intercede on the future little Danielle’s behalf. She told Mickey that he had unknowingly given God the opening that He was looking for when he had offered himself to be used in any way God saw fit. She told Mickey how he had fallen asleep on that auspicious Saturday night as a man, only to wake up in the wee hours on Sunday to find herself fitted out with the body of a rather bedraggled and drug addicted young woman. She told him how she had purchased a pregnancy test kit later that same Sunday morning only to have the fact that she was indeed with child validated.

She told Mickey how she had prevailed upon the goodwill of an old seminary buddy of hers to get her installed in a halfway house that catered to the prenatal needs of pregnant girls and the postnatal needs of mothers and their newborns. Karen told Mickey the tale of how she and Gabriella had met, and how they had quickly become fast friends. And from there, she continued on to tell him about all about the intact hymen business, and how she harbored the pervasive fear that God may have chosen her to play a crucial role in the Second Coming of His only Child.

Mickey, for his part, listened intently to everything Karen had to say. Though she half suspected that he had been on the verge of interrupting her on any number of occasions, Mickey resolutely restrained himself. He just sat there with an inscrutable look affixed on his face, a look that initially galled, and then proceeded to upset Karen to no end.

Somewhere in the midst of her rambling diatribe, Karen had come to the full realization of just how important Mickey De Angelo was to her. While her feelings for him paled in comparison to those she held for her newborn, she became keenly aware of the fact that her feelings for Mickey eclipsed her feelings for everyone else in her life.

‘This is crazy!’ an extremely distraught and near panicked Karen internally fumed. ‘Absolutely crazy! I mean, here I am, telling the man I love that I was not only once a man myself, but quite possibly, maybe the Mother Designate of the Messiah Herself!

‘I mean, he’s no doubt thinking that I’m some sort of whacked out religious zealot with delusions of grandeur!’

Deathly afraid of the answer she would receive, Karen heard herself ask the crucial question. "I blew it, didn’t?"

After a long, tedious pause, a pause in which Karen’s apprehension became an almost palpable commodity, an apparently unfazed Mickey evenly replied, "Blew what?"

"I blew any chance of my having a relationship with you, didn’t I? I mean, given everything I just told you, you’re probably going to just take me home, and that’ll be the last time I ever see you!"

"How can you say something like that, Karen? You ought to know me better than that by now. In other words, Karen, I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me that you don’t want to see me anymore."

"You mean, you don’t think that I’m a nut case?"

"No, Karen. I don’t."

Quizzically, unsure that she had heard him correctly, a teary-eyed Karen sought an explanation. "Then, am I to take it that you actually believe everything I just told you, you know, about me and my having been a man and all..."

"Yes, Karen. I believe you. I believe you because I know it all to be true."

"How? How could you know it all to be true? Did Gabriella tell you about me?"

"No. Gabriella didn’t tell me a thing about you and your having once been a man."

"Then, how’d ya know?"

"I know the same way Gabriella knows. You see, Karen, Gabriella and I are kindred spirits, so to speak."

"You mean, you’re psychic like she is?"

"She calls it psychic. I call it something else. But, yes. You could say that she and I share the same sort of intuitive powers."

"You mean, it’s sort of like birds of a feather?"

"You know, it’s funny that you should say that, Karen..."

 

+

 

 

"So, it’s true. Danielle is the Messiah." Karen was not at all happy with the implications embroiled within that simple statement of hers.

"No... not necessarily," Mickey, having just planted another tender kiss on the back of Karen’s hand, thoughtfully replied. "However, she does have the potential for that eventuality to occur. You see, Karen, God likes to keep His options open. And, because He does, in almost every generation there are one or more children who are born with the potential of fulfilling His promise.

"I can tell you one thing, though. In her life, Danielle will touch a lot of people’s lives. She will provide the world with a positive influence. That’s to say that she is destined to achieve great things.

"However, I do not know what part she will play. But, I do know your daughter is a very key element in God’s overall plan."

"And, just how do you know that, Mickey? Or, should I now be calling you Michael?"

"Mickey! Michael! Whichever pleases you. It really doesn’t make a difference to me...

"But, getting back to your question, I know that Danielle is a key element in God’s master plan due the fact that she rated what you might call, the A Team."

"By A Team, am I take it that there are more of your kind involved in all this other than just you?"

"Yes. All told, there are three of us."

"And, am I to also take it that I’ve met the other two?"

"No. You’ve only met one of them prior to this juncture. The other member of my triad has remained unobtrusively in the background."

"It’s Gabriella, isn’t it? She’s the other one I’ve met?"

"Yes... yes, she is. It was determined that it would be best for her to make first contact..."

"So, tell me. Am I ever going to meet the third member of this so called triad of yours?"

"Sure. If you’d like, I’ll bring him around one day next week."

"Wait!" Karen chuckled. "Don’t tell me! I’ll bet his name is Raphael!"

"Well, normally it is. But, this time out, he’s just going by Ralph."

 

+

 

 

"Wait a second!" a disbelieving Karen frantically exclaimed as she drew away from Mickey and sat bolt upright in her seat. "You’re not saying that you’re that ‘Michael’ are you?"

"If you mean the one that you see always portrayed wielding a sword, I’m afraid so. And, I sure hope that that’s not going to pose a problem for you?"

 

+

 

 

Karen felt as if she had been duped. And, that made her angry. "Pose a problem for me!" she shrieked. "You bet your ass it poses a problem for me! The way I see it, I am nothing more than an assignment for you and Gabriella! The whole friendship thing was nothing more than a sham!

"Let me tell you something! You might be an angel, but you’re one sorry son of a bitch as well! And, to think was I was actually starting to fall for you! I mean, you could no more love me than I could an amoeba!"

"That’s simply not true, Karen. You see, I do love you. And, I’m not talking about a platonic kind of love. That’s to say that I love you the way a human man loves a human woman."

"That’s ridiculous!" Karen vehemently charged.

"All right... but, ridiculous or not, it’s the truth, Karen. I do love you."

"Yeah! Right!" Karen’s reply was laced with the raw edge of sarcasm. "I’ll bet you tell that to all the guys your Lord and Master turns into girls!"

"No, Karen. Believe it or not, you’re the first."

"Oh! So, you’re saying I’m the first girl you’ve ever loved?"

"No... what I am saying is, you’re the first girl I’ve ever loved like this. You see, Karen, while you are quite correct that you and Danielle are my team’s present assignment, my falling in love with you was never part of the deal.

"Truth is, it wasn’t supposed to happen. But, it did happen. And, even if you find that you are incapable of returning my love, Karen, I don’t regret for one moment this love I have for you..."

 

+

 

 

"So, tell me!" Gabriella cheerfully beamed as Karen came in the front door of her parent’s house later that evening. "How’d it go? Did the two of you have a good time?"

"Well..." an extremely agitated Karen irately fumed. "Since you’re the one who’s psychic, it pretty much goes without saying that you already know how everything went already! So, I guess there’s no need of me telling you anything!

"And, that’s good! Because, Little Ms. Archangel, I’m so mad at you right now I can’t see straight! And, because I am, I’m not talking to you anymore!"

 

 

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© 2001 by Deane Christopher. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.