"A Fantasy" and all its parts are a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. It is a copyrighted work of Caitlin Rose. It may be archived at any web site that does not charge a fee for access, as long as author credit is given and the work is not abridged or changed.

 

A Fantasy                    by:Caitlin Rose

 

"What's a cold wave, Mom?"

"It's a permanent wave that works without that electric heating machine."

"Do I really need one?"

"Well, it will make your hair easier to care for, as it grows out."

"But it sounds like it will make me have curls all the time, even on days when I don't want them."

"It is not that bad. Miss Ruth likes you. She won't do anything to make you look silly."

"When is the appointment for?"

"It's for tomorrow afternoon. That will give you almost a week to get used to working with your new look, before your dressy tea party."

"Can't I just set my hair when I want curls?"

"Look, you missed the opportunity to get a haircut when I offered it to you. You came home earlier today with your hair a total mess, and it wasn’t the first time. You‘re getting a nice curly perm tomorrow, and that’s it."

I knew it was useless to argue any further with Mom.

I still had two hours before bedtime so I decided to work on the flying model kit I had bought the week before. Working with the balsa wood and pins was relaxing. It got my mind off my hair. Everything was fine until I came to the step where I had to glue in 4 wing ribs. As soon as I opened the tube of glue, the smell hit me. I usually like the smell of airplane glue. This time it just reminded me of nail polish. Now that smell made think about looking like a girl, and getting teased for it.

I checked the time and found it was bedtime anyway. I finished the glue joint, and put the model away, except for the wing. That stayed on my desk, pinned to the cardboard. I looked at my hair in the mirror. The spray had held it just as I had arranged it. It looked too nice to mess up. I put on my Slumber Cap, my PJs, and went to bed.

I slept late the next morning. Mom didn’t wake me either. When I finally got up, it was almost ten. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, replaced the Slumber Cap on my head with a shower cap and showered. I began to get dressed. I suddenly remembered that sometime today, I would be getting a permanent wave. I still didn’t know what that actually meant, but I was sure it meant that I would look more like a girl by dinner, than I looked now.

"Robbie, Good Morning. I heard you showering. Did you wash your hair?"

"No Mom, I wore a cap. But why are you asking."

"It’s OK. I was going to ask you not to shampoo anyway. Miss Ruth will probably want to shampoo your hair before the perm anyway. I put out some clothes for you, on your desk chair."

I walked over to the chair. I had an idea what I would find. Mom had put out a whole outfit. I had to admit, it looked about right for a hot July day. There was pair of girl’s panties. They were white and very light. There was an orange shell top, a pair of light green shorts, green socks and white sneakers. It all looked much cooler to wear than my jeans and a tee shirt, but there was no doubt about it. It was a girl’s outfit.

I put on all the clothes. Panties were still new to me. I found them to be so much smoother and more comfortable than my boy shorts. I had worn the other things before. The neck of the shell seemed to be made for going on, over a hairdo.

When I finished dressing, I took a good look at my hair. It looked very girlish. The left side had gotten a little flattened and pushed more forward as I had slept. I was able to push it back into place, but it just sprung forward when I let it go. I wasn’t sure if it would help, but I decided to try pinning my hair into place with a bobby pin. I found a spot where I could hold my hair with just one finger, and it looked right. I put a bobby pin into my hair, right where I had my finger. It worked. I added a bit more spray, mostly on that side.

I looked in the mirror one last time. I knew that if any the guys from school saw me with a bobby pin in my hair, I’d never hear the end of it. Hell, who was I kidding? The clothes I was wearing were a death sentence for an eight year old boy, as it was.

"Robbie, you look so nice. I may never let you wear jeans again."

"Mom, NO! I don’t want to look like a girl all the time."

"You don’t have to shout. I was only joking. I don’t expect you to dress like this all the time. But I’m so happy that you do it when I ask."

"I’m not sure it’s such a good idea today though, Mom."

"Why not?"

"Well, I want Betty’s mother to know that I like having a nice hairdo, but I also want her to know that I want to be able to look like a boy when she is finished."

"On the contrary, if you look neat and well dressed, she will know you care a lot about your appearance, and she’ll take extra care to make you proud to show off her work."

"Well if you say so...Also, I wanted to work on my bike this morning. I sure can’t do it dressed like this. What if I get grease on me?"

"Thank you for reminding me. I bought you something. I hope it fits"

Mom handed me a package. Inside was a kid size coverall. It almost looked like the same material as my jeans, but it was much thinner. It had a long zipper up the front.

"Try it on"

I took off my sneakers and got into it. I zipped it up. The legs were OK, but the sleeves were a bit long. It had side pockets, back pockets even a "shirt pocket" It had some racing logos sewed on. It had a big NASCAR emblem on the back.

"Mom this is great. It looks just like what pit-crew guys wear."

"You can wear it to protect your clothes for working on your bike, painting models, anything like that."

I went to the hall mirror to check it out. That’s when I saw that it had my name stitched onto the shirt pocket. Spelled "Robbie." In Script. Stitched with pink thread on to the blue cloth. Underneath the name was a checkered flag emblem.

I looked like a pit crew mechanic all right...on a girl racing team!

"Mom, did my name have to be sewed on in pink? Couldn’t it just be white, or orange or something?"

"I picked the color because it was bright, and really stood out on the blue background. You can change it if you want."

"How could I change it? Don’t you need a special sewing machine?"

"Not really. I can show you how to embroider it by hand, if you want to learn."

"So that’s my choice? Wear a coverall with my name in pink script over the pocket, or learn to embroider like a girl!"

"Well, you could choose not to wear the coverall at all."

Actually, I liked the coverall. All the logos and the big NASCAR emblem looked great.

"I guess I’ll wear it like this for now. Maybe the pink will fade away in the wash."

Mom laughed a little.

"I’m sure it will fade out a bit, anyway."

I went outside to work on my bike. The front shifter was making noise against the chainwheels, and the rear brake was way too loose. I spent about an hour getting everything adjusted. I rode the bike up and down my street 3 or 4 times between adjustments, and then twice around the block when I was finished, just to make sure everything was right. Then I cleaned and oiled the chain, before I put the bike away. I was just finishing up, when Mom called me.

"Robbie, Let’s have an early lunch and get going. Betty and her mother expect us around 1:00 o’clock."

We had tuna sandwiches and iced tea for lunch. While we were eating, Mom noticed my hands. I’d washed them the best I could, but you could still see that I had been working with greasy stuff.

"Look at your hands!"

"Can I clean them up with lotion, like last time?"

"We don’t have time to let it soak in overnight. I think I know something that will help. First take off your coverall, put it in the hamper, and put this on."

Mom handed me the same frilly apron she had me wear the other day. I really didn’t like wearing it, but I put it on. Mom tied the ends of the belt behind me.

"Now come over here to the sink."

Mom filled the sink with warm, sudsy water.

"There is a roasting pan here that needs scrubbing. I think your hands will come clean along with the pan."

I worked on that pan with soapy scrub pads for about 20 minutes. I got off almost all the old stains. When I finished, my hands were perfectly clean too, but they felt almost worn out.

"Now you see why we use lotion on our hands."

Mom poured the fragrant pink stuff on my hands, and watched me rub it in.

It was time to leave for Mrs. Thomas’ house.

Betty answered the door when we arrived. She was wearing a pink blouse and matching pants and sneakers. She even had a pink bow in her hair.

"Hello Robbie, hello Mrs. Balter."

"Hello Betty. You are all in pink today."

"My mother said that since I was going to help with Robbie’s perm, I might as well dress right. She says that what I have on is very much like a beauticians uniform."

Betty turned to me.

"Oh Robbie, you look so nice today. I can’t wait to see you with a perm!"

Betty hugged me. I started to blush instantly. I gave her a quick hug back.

"Come on in, we have everything ready."

We followed Betty into the kitchen. Mrs. Thomas was waiting. She was wearing something that looked like a pink oversized shirt over her clothes.

"Hello June, it feels like it’s been months."

"Hi Ruth. It was so nice of you to offer to do this."

"Betty and I both think your son is such a doll. I can’t wait to make him look even better."

They continued to talk while Mrs. Thomas led me toward the sink.

Before I knew what was happening, Mrs. Thomas had wrapped a plastic cape around me and tied it around my neck. She made it pretty tight. I stuck a finger in to stretch it out a bit.

"Don’t loosen it. It has to fit close, so nothing dribbles down your neck."

She had me sit on a stool in front the sink and face it. She gently took the bobby pin out of my hair and began to brush through my stiff hairdo. I felt embarrassed when she took out the bobby pin. I knew that it must have been really strange to find one of those on a boy’s head, but Mrs. Thomas didn’t mention it.

She asked me to bend over the sink and she wet my hair with the sprayer. The water was nice and warm. I could feel her pour shampoo on my hair and begin to spread it around.

"Betty, will you please shampoo Robbie?"

"Sure, Miss Ruth."

I think she had practiced that line!

Betty worked the shampoo through my hair carefully. Then she rubbed my scalp with her fingers. It felt wonderful.

"Ok, now rinse him off"

Betty carefully sprayed my head with the sink sprayer. After a few minutes, her mother came over with a towel.

"Ok, I think that’s just right."

She wrapped the towel around my head and led me to the table, and to a chair. There was a mirror standing on the table, so I would be able to see everything being done to my hair.

Mrs. Thomas combed all my wet hair straight back form my forehead. With Betty by her side to hand her supplies, she used a rat-tail comb to separate my bangs and comb them down toward my forehead.

"We won’t perm your bangs. Straight bangs are more versatile, you can wear them however you like."

Then she made another small section and Betty handed her an end paper. She folded the paper over the end of the lock of hair. Betty handed her a little pink plastic roller, as thin as a pencil. Now, I certainly wasn’t an expert, but I already knew that the smaller the roller, the tighter the curl.

This roller was the smallest I had seen yet.

"I don’t want my curls that tiny."

"Don’t worry, they won’t end up like that." Betty answered.

Mrs. Thomas rolled the curler down tight to my scalp. She rolled it tighter than I ever got a roller myself. It was about as tight as my cousin Jen had rolled my hair was, when she was trying to get even with me. The curler had a rubber band attached to it to hold it in place.

"How does that feel?" Asked Mrs. Thomas

"It’s pretty tight."

"The tension will ease a bit when we put the perm lotion on."

"Remember Robbie, what I told you when you were putting rollers in my hair." Added my mom. " A little pulling is expected, it’s just part of getting your hair done."

Mrs. Thomas continued working and soon I had about 50 tiny curlers in my hair. All the time she was working I was getting more excited as the tight little rollers pulled at my hair. She kept up a conversation with my mom the whole time, about hairstyles, old friends, food, everything. Betty didn’t say much. She did squeeze my hand twice, and smile at me a lot.

"Well, you’re all rolled up. Want to see the back?"

"Sure"

Mrs. Thomas led me to a wall mirror. She used the mirror from the table to show me my head from both sides and the back. The curlers, or rods, as she called them, were in perfect vertical rows at the sides and back. On the top of my head, they were in 3 neat front-to-back lines. This was certainly the neatest, most precise job of hair setting I had ever seen. Mrs. Thomas asked me if I wanted to touch the rods. I gently patted my head. The feeling was so exciting I was afraid everyone, even Betty, could tell how I felt. I was embarrassed to be so excited over getting this girlish thing done to my hair.

"Stretch your legs and use the bathroom if you have to. You’re going to be sitting for a while once I apply the waving solution."

I walked up and down the hall twice and returned to my chair. Mrs. Thomas took out some absorbent cotton and put a wide, thick band around my head.

"This will catch most of the drips"

She handed me a small towel

"This is to wipe up any solution you feel running down your face or neck. Be sure to stop any before it reaches your eyes."

I wondered how strong this chemical was going to be.

Mrs. Thomas picked up a plastic bottle with a spout top.

"Last chance to back out."

"Oh don’t say that, Mommy. Getting a perm isn’t so bad, and Robbie looks so cute with his hair rolled up. I know his hair will look great after the perm too."

"I was just joking with him, Betty. Robbie knows we’re not going to do anything to him, except make his hair prettier."

I just sat there. I really didn’t know what was going to happen next. Mom didn’t say anything. She just sat across the table from me and stayed out of the way.

Mrs. Thomas took the bottle of liquid and began to squirt it onto the rods, one at a time. I could feel the liquid trickle onto my scalp, as each rod was soaked. This stuff was definitely not setting lotion!

"What’s in that stuff, ammonia and burnt match heads?"

Mrs. Thomas laughed.

"You may be close. I remember, that way back when I went to beauty school, the teacher said there was ammonia and sulfur in waving lotion."

She continued to squirt the lotion onto the rods. The smell was really getting strong now. Finally, she finished soaking the rods. She took a clear plastic cap with an elastic edge and put it over my head.

"That’s to keep the lotion from drying out too fast. It only works while it’s wet. Is the smell too strong for you?"

Actually, the chemical smell was pretty bad, but I knew I was stuck with it until the perm was done. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Now, you can sit and wait for about 40 minutes, or we can use the heat of the dryer and get you done in half that time."

"I guess I’m pretty used to dryers by now."

Betty rolled in the big chrome dryer, the same one I had fixed the plug on. Her mom lowered it over my head and turned it on. The first blast of air carried the chemical smell down from my head and right into my nose. It made me feel like throwing up. The air got hotter. If anything, the smell got even stronger.

Betty moved the mirror on the table so I could see myself. Suddenly, I forgot all about the smell. I was looking at myself and seeing a lady in a salon! I looked just like the grown up ladies getting their hair done! I was getting so excited that I could hardly breath. I just wanted to get my hand down near my penis, but I didn’t dare do that with everyone in the room.

Mrs. Thomas put a white cooking timer on the table in front of me. I could see it was set for 20 minutes and I knew it was ticking, though I couldn’t hear it with my head under the dryer. By now, my eyes were watering from the chemical smell, and I was sweating from the dryer heat and my own excitement.

I used the small towel to wipe my face a few times. Betty brought me a glass of cold water and a fresh, cool, and damp towel. I drank the water and held the towel against my eyes to keep the fumes away. I could see by the timer that there was only a minute or so left.

Mrs. Thomas shut off the dryer and lifted it from my head. She unrolled one of the rods.

"Your curls are forming very nicely. You’ll be done in about 5 more minutes."

I could feel her re-roll the rod, and replace the cap. She lowered the dryer and turned it back on. I put the towel back against my eyes.

The cool dampness of the towel was soothing and kept the fumes away from my eyes almost completely. I just sat there and waited for Mrs. Thomas to come back and turn off the dryer. Suddenly the roaring of the air in my ears stopped. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was surprised to hear Betty’s voice.

"Mother says you’re all done processing. Come over to the sink. We have to get all that yucky smelling lotion off your hair."

Mom and Mrs. Thomas watched while Betty adjusted the water temperature and had me bend as far over the sink as I could. My nose was only an inch or two from the bottom of the sink. Betty removed the absorbent cotton and used the spray hose to rinse my head again and again.

"Betty, be sure to rinse every single rod with plenty of water."

"Mother, that’s what I’m doing."

The ammonia fumes were disappearing, but the sulfur smell was still there. The water felt great on my head, but Betty kept rinsing so long that my neck was starting to hurt.

"Ok Betty, I think that’s enough rinsing. Pat off the water and bring Robbie back to the table. We still have to neutralize his curls."

Betty pressed a dry towel against the rods on my head as her mom had asked. I walked back to the table. Mrs. Thomas took over again. She took another bottle and began to squirt it onto the rods. I expected another horrible smell, but this stuff didn’t smell much. It just felt very cold.

"This part doesn’t take too long."

When she finished putting the neutralizer on my hair. I had to wait a few minutes for it to work. Then Mrs. Thomas began to take the rods out of my hair. I couldn’t wait to see what my hair looked like, but the mirror wasn’t in the right place on the table anymore. Instead there was a mess of empty squeeze bottles, towels, and rods.

When all the rods were out, Mrs. Thomas took me back to the sink and rinsed my hair again. She squirted a little more neutralizer on my hair and rinsed some more. Finally, she turned off the water and gently wrapped a towel around my head.

"Would you like to see your new perm?"

"I sure would."

She handed me the mirror from the table and unwrapped the towel. Wow. I had wet curls all over my head. I had never seen myself with wet curls. Up until now, my wet hair fell flat against my head or stuck up at weird angles. Now my hair was very wet and very curly. The top was all small tubular curls and there were tiny ringlets near my ears. My bangs were the only part of my hair that wasn't curly.

"Do you like your new look Robbie?"

"It sure is different, Mrs. Thomas. Will it dry like this?"

"Well, it might, but you’re not finished yet. Betty, can you help me set Robbie’s hair now?"

"Sure Mommy."

"Remember, very gently, he has a fresh perm in his hair."

Mom just sat there with a half smile on her face. Mrs. Thomas joined her at the far end of the table while Betty stood behind me. I could smell the familiar sweet scent of setting lotion as Betty smoothed it onto my hair with her fingers. Soon Betty was sectioning my hair and winding it onto rollers.

"My mother said I should use these ¾" smooth plastic rollers. She says they will give you just the right size curls."

I loved the feeling of Betty doing my hair. I could tell that she was being very careful to wind each roller just right. I’m sure Betty had no idea how excited I was as she worked on my hair. It was getting hard to breathe.

"May I do something special with your bangs?"

"Oh boy, gel curls again." I thought.

"Well...I’m not..."

"You can wash them out if you don’t like what I do."

I just kind of nodded my head. I saw Betty put a big dollop of setting lotion into her palm and soak my bangs with it. Then she rolled the hair onto 4 perm rods and let them hang down onto my forehead.

Betty gave me a hairnet to put on.

"Sorry, all we have is pink"

I put it on. Mrs. Thomas came over to look at Betty’s work.

"You did a fine job, but don’t forget ear pads."

Betty tucked big wads of cotton under the edges of the net, covering my ears. Mrs. Thomas told me that with my ears protected, she would be able to turn the dryer up hotter, and finish my hair more quickly. She put me under the dryer for the second time that day.

Mom and Mrs. Thomas left the room. They were talking to each other as they left, but I couldn’t hear a thing with that dryer going.

Betty pulled over a chair and sat down close to me while I sat under the dryer. She took my right hand in hers and began to stroke it gently with her other hand. After a few seconds, she stopped and held my hand with the back side of it up. She seemed to be looking at it closely. Then she put my hand down and showed me the nails on her left hand. She pointed to them with her free index finger. Her nails looked very well cared for. She obviously didn’t bite or tear them. They were perfectly clean and coated with pink polish. Not clear polish with a touch pink, like I had had on that day at the museum with Jen, but real pink color, with no doubt about it.

Betty held one of my fingers in her left hand and made a motion with her right, like she was painting my nail!

"No Betty. I don’t want my nails polished."

Betty didn’t say anything I could hear. She just smiled broadly, put her palms together, and mouthed "Please, for me?"

I didn’t want polish on my nails again. I had been so embarrassed about my nails that day at the museum. I’m a boy. Wow. That would sound silly coming from me now, dressed in pastel colors and a pink hairnet and sitting under a dryer.

Betty lifted the hood about two inches and spoke right into my ear.

"Please let me do your nails, Robbie. Your hands are so clean and soft, they would look great with a manicure. See how pretty mine are, and I did them myself."

Betty had her cheek right next to mine and was holding her fingers up in front of both of us to show me her manicure. She moved her head slightly and I could feel her hair and her bow touch my face. It felt wonderful. Before I knew what I was doing, I had my arms around Betty and I was hugging her!

Betty turned her head, kissed me on the lips, and quickly pulled away.

"I’ll get the nail stuff. Wait right here."

Like I could do anything else. Betty was back in a few seconds. She took my hand and began to work on my nails with some kind of sandpaper stick. I had seen my mother use them before.

"What’s that thing called?"

"This? It’s called an emery board."

"I could use one for sanding tight spots on model airplanes."

Betty used the emery board to shape all of my nails. She made each one come to a rounded tip.

"You should stop biting your nails."

"I only do it once in a while. Most of my nails aren’t bitten."

"I used to bite mine too. Mother got me to stop with this stuff she bought at the beauty store."

Betty was finished sanding now. She picked up a bottle of polish, shook it up, and opened it. She took my hand and painted one nail. It was clear! No color at all, just very shiny.

"See, that’s not so bad. It doesn’t look too girlish, does it."

"I guess it’s OK."

When all my nails were done, I had to sit and hold my hands still until they dried. Betty wouldn’t even let me read or anything. Finally they were dry. Then Betty got another little bottle that looked like more nail polish.

"This will stop you from biting your nails. It tastes really bitter. If you start to nibble an a nail, this will remind you not to do it."

Betty painted the anti-biting stuff on all my nails. It disappeared as it dried. As soon as it was dry, Betty made me taste my thumbnail.

"Yuck, that tastes awful. Do I have to use it?"

"Keep your nails out of your mouth and you never have to taste it again. Take this with you. I don’t need it anymore. Be sure to put it on your nails three times every day. By the time school starts again, you’ll be out of the biting habit, and your nails will be so pretty."

I put the little bottle into the pocket of my shorts. The idea of deliberately putting something on my hands, something with a terrible taste,

just to train myself to keep my nails pretty, seemed like such a girlish thing to do. But the more I thought about the idea, the more exciting it was. It was as exciting to think about my nails, as it was to think about the rollers drying in my hair.

I had just put away the bottle of anti-nail biting stuff when Mrs. Thomas and my mother returned. Mrs. Thomas came over to my chair and shut off the dryer and lifted the hood all the way off.

"I think you’re dry by now."

She unrolled one roller from the back of my head.

"Sure enough, completely dry. Let’s get you combed out. I bet you can’t wait to see the finished product."

Actually, I was having a pretty good time as it was. I don’t think I could remember ever being so excited before, and for so long.

"Do you have a particular style you want. Betty set your hair in a brick pattern, and that’s a versatile set. I can comb it out in a number of ways."

"Well, Mrs. Thomas, I liked the petal curls you did for me that first time. Can I still have them, even with a perm?"

"Oh, they’ll be even prettier now. And they’ll last longer too. That’s the main thing with a perm. Your curls stay in much better."

She asked Betty to remove all the rollers from my hair. Then she worked the curls with her fingers and a small brush until every curl was in place. The four perm rods left my bangs looking like four corkscrews bouncing against my forehead. Mrs. Thomas loosened them very carefully, so that they weren’t as tight, but they were still shiny.

"How do you like the tendrils?"

"What are tendrils?"

"The spiral curls on your forehead."

I was about to say that they were as girly as gel curls, and that I really didn’t want to be seen with them by the kids on my block. Then I saw Betty smiling at me.

"They sure look very...very..er..dressy."

Betty came closer and gently touched one of my tendrils.

"I know. I’m hoping you’ll wear gel curls or tendrils to the tea party. You look so good with a dressy hairdo."

My mother hadn’t said much to me most of the afternoon. Now she came over and stood next to Betty.

"Robbie dear, you look so nice with those cute little curls on your forehead. Please leave them in for a while"

All this talk about my hair was embarrassing me. I just wanted to end this discussion and change the subject.

"OK, I’ll try them for a while.

Mrs. Thomas finished combing and brushing and then sprayed my hair.

"You don’t need as much spray now. The perm will help keep you in curls."

Mrs. Thomas asked Betty and me to clean up the table and put all the supplies away, while she prepared some iced tea and got out some cookies. It was almost 4 o’clock. I had spent almost 3 hours getting my hair and nails done. I remembered how little time a haircut used to take. When the barber shop wasn’t busy, I could be there and back in just about a half an hour. That included the 5 block bike ride.

After we cleaned up the table, Mrs. Thomas gave us the cups, plates and napkins to set out. I helped Betty put everything on the table. I watched how she was very careful to set everything out straight and spaced just so. I copied the way Betty did it.

When the table was set, Mrs. Thomas asked me to take the trash out to the can at the curb. She said it would be more pleasant to eat without all the perm lotion soaked trash in the room. As I went through the hall, I got a good view of myself in the big hall mirror. I had to face it. I just didn’t look like a boy anymore.

I carried the garbage out to the curb and dropped it into the garbage can. I went back into the house. As soon as I walked through the door, the smell struck me. It was funny, I hadn’t noticed it when I was inside, but coming in from the street it just hit me. The place smelled like a beauty parlor. I remembered it from when I had gone with Mom, once or twice. It wasn’t just one smell. It was everything from perm lotion to nail polish to hairspray mixed together. And all those smelly things had been used on me today. I guess I must have smelled like a beauty parlor myself.

I stopped and took a long careful look at myself in that hall mirror. Mrs. Thomas had finished my hairdo with very delicate looking petal curls. They were small and looked very much like flower petals. The tendrils on my forehead were loose spirals that looked a bit like parts of a vine plant. My orange shell and light green shorts were still perfectly clean. The plastic cape had protected them from all the hairstyling chemicals.

Just for fun, I tried imagining that I was really a girl, not just a boy dressed like a girl. I tried to feel like a girl, to stand just like one and hold my hands just right.

"Robbie, everyone else is in the kitchen. We’re waiting for you."

I was looking at myself so hard in the mirror, that I hadn’t noticed Betty looking at me.

"Not that I blame you. If I were that pretty, I think I’d spend a lot of time in front of a mirror too."

I felt my ears start to burn and my cheeks getting hot with embarrassment. I went into the kitchen and sat at one of the four place settings. Betty sat down next to me. I felt a kitten rub against my leg. I bent down to stroke it.

"What’s this one’s name?"

"I call her Splash, because she looks like she had paint splashed on her. Mother says she’s a calico, and that all calico cats are females."

I picked up the kitten and put her on my lap. She made herself comfortable and began to purr.

"She trusts you. If you leave her there, she’ll probably just fall asleep."

I let the kitten stay on my lap. She began to press down on my thigh with her front paws, first with one paw and then with the other.

"Betty, what is this cat doing? Is she trying to flatten my leg or something?"

Betty looked at the kitten in my lap and giggled.

"She’s kneading you. She thinks you’re her mommy. Kittens do that to help them get milk from their mothers. They press like that while they’re suckling. This one does it every time she gets sleepy."

I felt really strange. It was one thing for people to think I look like a girl, what with my hairdos and clothes, but now a kitten thought I was a mother cat!

We sat around the table, enjoying the iced tea and cookies. Mom asked Betty about the tea party that the girl’s club was planning.

"What will you be having at the party?"

"Each girl is going to bring something. Caroline and Susan are baking cookies together, the day before. Sara is bringing little sandwiches and Ashley just said that she is bringing a surprise treat."

"What are you bringing, Betty?"

"I want to bring a cherry pie. I was going to ask Robbie to help me make it. Will you help me, Robbie?"

"Sure, I guess so."

"Great. We can do it here, the day before. See you Monday, right after lunch."

We talked for a while more. Betty told everyone about the pretty yellow dress that she was planning to wear to the tea party.

"Mother, can I wear bigger earrings and some lipstick too? Just a tiny bit of light pink? It is a dressy party."

Betty’s mom laughed a bit.

"Oh, you want to grow up so fast, sweetheart. I guess bigger earrings are ok, If you let me help you select them. We’ll see how look all dressed, then we’ll decide about the lipstick."

"Mother, I think all the other girls will have lipstick on. How about you Robbie?"

"I guess some of them will."

"No, silly, I didn’t mean that. I meant you. Are you going to wear lipstick?"

"That does it. I’m not a girl. I’m a boy. I know I look like a girl most of the time now, and I stink like a beauty parlor today. I just spent the whole afternoon getting my hair done, and I even have nail polish on. But I’m still a boy, regardless. I don’t plan on wearing lipstick, or face powder or any of that stuff. I don’t like this kitten treating me like a mother cat, and I don’t ever plan on playing with a Barbie doll."

I got up and started to run out of the room. The kitten flew off my lap with a loud meow. My glass of iced tea fell to the floor and smashed. I paused for a second at the sound of the breaking glass. Mom grabbed me by the wrist and dug her nails into me.

"Where do you think you are going? You’re acting like a little beast. You go out to the car and wait there for me. You are in deep, deep trouble now."

My heart was pounding a mile a minute. Mom wasn’t even shouting. Her face was red as a Christmas light, but her voice was hard and even. I was scared.

"Mom, I’m sorry..."

"Too late for that. Move."

I walked out to the car and sat down to wait for Mom. I was whimpering, almost crying with fear, when I saw her come down the front steps and walk toward the car.

Mom got into the car and sat down. She didn’t even look at me. She put on her seat belt and started the engine. She slowly backed out of the Thomas’s driveway.

"Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break that glass."

"The glass? That was a minor detail. You acted like an ungrateful thug. You shamed and humiliated me again. Here Mrs. Thomas and Betty went to all that trouble to do your perm, and you could only be viscous in return."

"I said I was sorry."

"You think that’s enough?"

Mom was shouting now.

"You are going to be punished in a way you will remember. In addition to being punished, you are going to have to apologize properly to Mrs. Thomas and to Betty. You are going to have to prove that you are civilized, not a wild animal."

We were at a stoplight, only a block from home. Mom didn’t say anything else until we got home.

Mom got the mail from our box and unlocked the door.

"Bills and more bills. Oh, here is a letter from your father."

Mom opened the letter from Dad first. Her look softened a little at first, but I could see her face get more serious as she read. When she turned to the second page, she looked like she was about to cry. She folded the letter and stuffed it into her purse. Mom’s voice was a bit unsteady as she spoke to me.

"Go up to your room and change your clothes. Put on your blue long sleeve button-up shirt, your chinos and your black loafers. Be down here in 5 minutes. Don’t mess up even one curl, or you’ll be sorry."

I didn’t know what Mom had in mind. She was asking me to wear the same kind of boy clothes I would wear to church. I took off my shell very carefully, and put on the blue shirt. The fabric felt rough and stiff compared to the soft, smooth shell. I put on the chinos and shoes. I heard Mom climb the stairs, go into her room and go back downstairs while I was changing. I rushed downstairs. Mom was waiting. Her eyes looked red, like she had been crying.

Mom made me stand still while she looked carefully at me.

"You look just about ready. Just two more things."

Mom buttoned the very top button of my shirt. It made the collar tight around my throat. I didn’t like the feeling.

"That’s much neater looking, a bit more formal."

Then she stuck something into my hair. I reached up to feel what she had done. Mom stopped my hand before I could reach my head.

"Don’t you dare touch that. You may look in the mirror, but don’t touch!"

I guess I knew what to expect. It was no great surprise to see the little blue bow attached to the petal curls at the front of my head, just above my spiral tendrils. The bow was made of silky looking ribbon, but the color was the same light blue as my shirt.

"Don’t stare at yourself all day. We’re going to do some shopping and have a snack at the mall. Get into the car."

"Mom, do I have to go?"

"Yes, you do."

"But Mom, I look like a sissy. Everyone will tease me dressed like this. What if I meet someone who knows me?"

"Well, it looks like you figured out the first part of your punishment, doesn’t it? Out to the car!"

Talk about looking both ways before crossing the street. I must have looked up and down the block five times to make sure nobody was around, before I dashed out to the car. I got in the passenger door and slumped down in the seat.

"A bit embarrassed to be seen, are you?"

"Mom, I don’t look like a boy or like a girl. I’m wearing boy‘s clothes, but not like boys usually wear them. Nobody buttons up his shirt like this. And I have a real girl’s hairdo, with a bow pinned into it. I don’t look like a boy or a girl. Everybody will be laughing at me."

"I’m glad you understand. How do you think I felt when you acted like a nasty fool in front of one of my dearest friends? Do you think I was proud of you, or that I just wanted to drop into a hole in the ground?"

"I’m sorry Mom, It was just that when Betty asked me if I would be wearing lipstick to her party...I mean, boys don’t..."

"There were about 5 other ways you could have gotten your point across. The easiest being to say that you hadn’t thought about it yet."

As usual, Mom was right. If I had just said that, or something like it, the afternoon at Betty’s would have ended a lot better, and I wouldn’t be here now, dressed like this. I didn’t say anything the rest of the way to the mall.

Mom took me into a sewing and craft store first. She looked at some scented candles and stuff like that, but she didn’t buy anything. A lady who worked at the store came over to Mom, and looked at me.

"Oh he is adorable. Such pretty curls. How I wish my grandson was so ..er..refined."

Mom whispered something into the lady’s ear. The lady stopped smiling, and she looked at me sternly, like my 2^nd grade teacher used to do.

"I have just the thing. I think it will match perfectly. Wait here."

She returned and handed Mom some kind of fancy cloth band, with a bow in the middle.

"This is a lace bride’s garter. See how delicate the edges

are. And this one is light blue, just like your son’s shirt. It will look darling as a bow tie. I think the band is just wide enough so some of the lace will show from under his collar."

She looked at me.

"Would like to try it on?"

"What do you say Robbie?"

Added Mom.

I wanted to say "Drop dead," but I was sure that would get the bow around my neck, and probably a matching one on each wrist.

"Thank you, but not right now Ma’am"

I tried to sound friendly, even though I wanted to knock her block off.

"I don’t think Robbie needs to try it on. I’m sure it will fit very well. Just put in a bag."

The garter cost three dollars. Mom paid and we left. Mom said that the next store she wanted to visit was at the other end of the mall. We had to walk past the video arcade on the way. There were some kids hanging around in front of the arcade. One of them spotted me.

"Look at Mommy’s little sweetheart"

I could feel my face get red.

"I’ll bet he wears girl’s underwear."

"Sweetheart, do you wear little girly panties?"

"Let’s pull his pants down and see"

I realized I did have girl’s panties on. I was still wearing them from this morning. I tried to walk faster to get away from there as fast as I could. Mom was acting like she didn’t hear a thing. One boy followed us for about ½ the length of the mall. He kept talking about my underwear and threatening to pull my pants down. He was small enough for me to beat up, or at least have an even fight. But I knew what Mom would do, if I tried.

We kept walking through the mall, stopping now and then for Mom to window shop at women’s shoe and dress shops. The kid who was following us finally turned and trotted back toward the arcade. As he turned, he shouted over his shoulder.

"You better not come around here without your mommy, because I’ll beat your little pansy face to a pulp if I catch you."

I wanted to chase him and show him he might be in for a surprise if he tried, but the thought of a ribbon and lace bow around my neck, added to what I was already wearing, was enough to stop me.

Mom had stopped walking. I stopped next to her. We were standing at a jewelry display.

"Here we are. This is what I was looking for"

We weren’t in a store at all. It was more like a large stand in the middle of the walking area of the mall. A pretty, tall teenage girl was inside the stand, at the far end. She had long, straight black hair, and seemed to be wearing a lot of makeup and jewelry. She walked over and spoke to my mother.

"Hi, May I help you?"

"I’d like to see some stud earrings, small ones. I think you call them ‘starters.’"

The girl walked about three steps and pointed down, into the display under the glass counter top. I noticed a name tag on her white blouse. It said "Debbie"

"These are very nice. They have 18 carat gold posts, so they are good as starters. Will you be getting a third set of piercings?"

"Oh no, I’m quite happy with two in each ear. These are for my son here."

"Oh...Sure...For your son. I see"

"In fact, I think pearl studs would look best on him. Do you have any with tiny, delicate seed pearls?"

"Mom, I don’t want earrings. I look enough like a girl already. I won’t let her pierce my ears."

"Are you sure about that?"

Mom reached into the small paper bag that held that lace bow thing. She didn’t say anything. She just kept her hand in the bag, like she was fingering what was inside.

"Ma’am here is what we have in pearl studs. We are a little low on stock this time of year. It seems so many little girls get their first earrings in June. It must be all the weddings and graduation parties."

Mom looked at the tray the girl was holding in front of us. She pointed to a pair. The pearls were pretty small. Not small enough though. I could see them.

"I like these. Please put them in his ears."

"Mom, please no"

"Oh Robbie, think of how nice they’ll look when you’re all dressed up for the party."

"Mom, I’m afraid. I don’t want to get holes punched in my ears."

"Don’t be a fraidy-cat, even little girls don’t cry when they get their ears pierced"

"No, I said I won’t let her, and I mean it."

The jewelry girl was watching us. Mom nodded to her, and she reached down and lifted a section of the counter so that we could walk into the middle of the stand. Then she backed up to make room, and stood behind a high stool.

"Robbie, get on that stool now"

Mom was using her no-nonsense voice.

I got onto the stool. I felt the girl wipe my ear with something very cool. I smelled alcohol. A second later, I heard a snap and felt a pain in my ear.

"Ouch. That hurt."

"Hold still. I want to get them even. Uneven earrings look so silly."

I felt the alcohol wipe again and then another snap. The pain wasn’t as bad this time. Maybe because I knew what to expect.

"Here, take a look."

She held a mirror up to my face. I turned my head and saw a little pearl, and a little drop of blood, on each ear lobe. The girl cleaned off the blood with a little piece of gauze, and more alcohol. I looked carefully at my ears.

With little curls covering the top half of them, and pearl earrings at the bottom, they didn’t look like my ears at all. They looked like Mom’s.

I looked at my reflection and thought about how "girly" I was getting to look. I had a fresh hairdo, all done in petal curls and tendrils. I was wearing a small bow in my hair and had brand new earrings. Of course I was wearing a boys shirt, pants, shoes and socks. But I knew I was only wearing those because my mother was trying to teach me a lesson for how I had acted that afternoon. The more I looked, the more the hairdo, the hair bow and the earrings seemed to belong together. I liked the way I looked. It was the clothes that looked all wrong.

Debbie handed me a small bag. She said it was a "starter kit" for my ears. She explained to both of us that I was not to take out the earrings, for at least 3 weeks, or the holes would quickly close up. She said I would have to clean my ears with the cotton and the solution in the bag, every day for those three weeks. She said it would be helpful to turn the studs too, so they wouldn’t stick in place. After three weeks I could change earrings, or even leave them out for a while.

I asked her if I could get an infection.

"Only if you let them get dirty. Then you’ll have to go to the doctor. That almost never happens, though. Even when your ears are all healed, its best to wear earrings as often as you can. At least a couple of days a week, so the holes stay nice and free. Besides, earrings look so pretty on a gir...on a person."

"Thank you Debbie. Robbie, what do you say?"

"Thank you Debbie."

Mom paid for the earrings and we left. We continued through the mall. At first I thought everyone was staring at me. Mom made me come with her into a makeup store, and into a drug store. Nobody said anything to me at either of those places. I was starting to feel more comfortable. We passed a place that that sold candy and popcorn. The smell made me hungry.

We passed a store that sold sports trading cards and comics books. I thought I saw a comic book I liked in the window, and paused for a few seconds, forgetting how I was dressed. Mom walked on ahead. Just then, three boys came out of the store. One of the boys saw me.

"Mike, Joe, look at this kid. He has a bow in his hair! What is he, a faggot?"

"No, he can’t be one of those until he grows up. I think he‘s just a little sissy."

I started to try to catch up with Mom.

The first boy ran right past me, stopped, and blocked my path. He tried to stand like a girl and made his voice high pitched as he spoke.

"Oh you look soooo pretty! Did you go to the beauty parlor today?"

It was too much. Too much in one day. I felt as hurt as if he had kicked me. I guess it showed.

"Oooo The sissy is about to cry. Don’t cry sissy. Be a good little sissy and mommy will buy you a dolly."

"Shut up or I’ll show who’s gonna go home crying."

"Oh you’re a tough little sissy. Hey guys, ever see a tough sissy?"

"Not me."

"Me either."

"Wadda’ya gonna do if I steal your hair bow, hit me with your purse?"

He reached up to the grab the bow in my hair. I punched him in the stomach. As hard as I could. He must have been off balance, because he fell backwards and landed right on his butt.

He had been carrying a large paper cup of soda. It made a big splash as he hit the floor. The other two boys and Mom all turned to see what had happened.

"Hey Mike, the sissy put Andy on his ass."

"Andy, can’t you fight anymore?"

I stood their, ready to hit him again, if he tried to go for me. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned. It was Mom.

"You haven’t learned a thing yet, have you?"

"Mom, he started it."

"And you had to finish it, didn’t you?"

She turned to the three boys, who were watching.

"Move, before I get a security guard to help you move."

The boys walked slowly away.

"What were you doing stopping at that store? You know that the kids who hang out in there, are just like the kids at the arcade. What did you expect to happen?"

"I guess I forgot how I looked."

"Stand still. This ought to help you remember"

Mom took the lacy blue bow out of the bag. As I stood there, she turned up my collar and hooked the band around my neck. She turned my collar back down and adjusted the bow. I could feel the stiff edges of the lace bow under my chin. Mom made me walk over to the window of a dark, empty store. I could see my reflection in the window. The bow was made of wide blue ribbon. There was white lace around the edges. Lace showed all around, from the edge of my collar.

"Now, we finish our shopping, then we’ll have hamburgers"

Now, I knew I looked totally weird. Boys didn’t dress like this. Girls didn’t dress like this. I had seen men wear bow ties before, but never one with white lace around the edges. I had seen girls wear things with lace trim, but not with boy’s shirts, chinos and loafers. And I had never, ever, seen any boy or man, with a bow in his hair!

I wasn’t the only one who noticed. I could tell that people were looking at me. I could see their heads turn to keep looking, even as they walked past. A few even pointed. I could feel the heat in my cheeks. My ears had been burning already, from the piercing. Now they were on fire. I felt like crying. I bent my head forward and walked along, looking at the floor in front of my feet.

I couldn’t stand to see the people looking at me.

"Walk like that if you choose Robbie. It shows off your curls, and your pretty hair bow, so nicely."

I lifted my head instantly.

"Mom, please. I hate to have people look at me this way. Can we go right home?"

"Now you know what humiliation is. This is what you did to me at the Thomas’ house. I was humiliated by your actions then, just as you are humiliated now, by how you are dressed. Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?"

"Yes"

I choked a bit on the word. I could feel the tears coming.

"Could you say ‘Yes, Mother?’"

"Yes, Mother. I’ve learned my lesson."

I was actually crying now. Mom heard it in my voice. She reached into her handbag and gave me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and nose. The tissue smelled like Mom’s purse. It reminded me of the hand lotion she had put on me.

"Well, we can see if you’ve learned your lesson, and perhaps make you feel much more comfortable in this next store."

We walked into the department store at the end of the corridor. I followed Mom closely as she walked right to the cosmetics counter. A young woman was standing near the counter with a tiny spray bottle in her hand. She asked Mom if she would like to try a new fragrance. Mom held out her wrist, and the woman sprayed something on it. It was a very sweet, flowery smell.

"Would you like some too, sweetie?"

"No thank you. Mom thinks I’m too young"

I don’t know why I said that, I must have heard it somewhere. I really wanted to shout for her to get that girly stuff away from me!

The girl looked at me and then at Mom. She smiled at Mom and picked up another little squirt bottle."

"Can she try some of this, it’s a scent made for young girls."

She held the bottle out to Mom. Mom sniffed it.

"Oh, that is so delicate and light. It’s OK Robbie, just a sample."

Phfft. My left wrist was perfumed.

"Rub your wrists together dear, like this."

Mom demonstrated. I copied. Now, I had two perfumed wrists.

"What do you say, dear?"

"Thank you."

We left that counter. Mom had a smile on her face for the first time since we left Betty’s house. She led me to the girl’s department.

"Robbie, I want you to feel comfortable at the tea party next week. You haven’t really had much time to get comfortable wearing dressy things. You need some practice. You need at least one or two more dresses, and some other things."

Mom took me from rack to rack. She had me try on a slip and about five dresses. She made me walk, turn around, and twirl in them. We chose two to buy. One was yellow and had short, puffy sleeves. The other was a very pale orange. It had no sleeves at all. We also bought the slip and two pairs of little, short white socks with tiny white bows on the sides.

"You may wear one of the dresses home, and carry your other outfit in a bag, if you wish. You’ll still have boy’s shoes on, but we can’t help that."

Mom was giving me a choice of looking like a girl or like a weird sissy.

"I’ll go change into the dress."

Mom waited outside the dressing room while I put on the pale orange dress. When I came out, she made sure I didn’t have any tags showing. We put my chinos, dark socks, blue shirt and that horrible lace bow in the bag. Mom held the tags from the dress and the sales receipt in her hand, ready to show them on the way out of the store.

We left the store.

"Would you like a snack? I know we kind of skipped dinner."

"I could use a burger."

We went into the McDonald’s in the mall. Mom ordered for both of us while I stood beside her. A teenage girl took our order.

"Is that a new dress? It’s pretty. I’ll bet your earrings are new too. I remember when I got my ears pierced."

She had two earrings in one ear, and about 6 in the other.

"Did it hurt to get so many earrings put in?"

"Oh I didn’t get them all the same day. I just kept adding them, one or two at a time. Some of them hurt a bit. But I think lots of earrings look so pretty."

She smiled and handed us our food. We sat down. I began to dig in to my burger and fries. I was feeling much better.

"Take a quick look at that pretty girl sitting near the exit, but don’t stare."

I looked at her. She was older than me, maybe 2 or 3 years. She had long, straight hair that hung over the back of her chair. She had red lipstick on.

"Look at how she is eating. She is eating slowly, with little bites. That is how a girl should eat. I want you to eat likes she does."

That was only the first lesson. The next few days were like going to school. Like going to "girliness school."

We finished eating and walked back to our car. I’m sure I looked more like a girl than a boy. The only "boy things" I had on were shoes. I noticed that the loafers I was wearing had leather tassels. I saw a girl walk by wearing almost the same kind of shoes, except hers were brown and somehow looked a little more delicate than mine, but they were basically the same. Of course, she wasn’t wearing them with a dress, she was wearing a shell top and jeans that looked brand new.

Mom spoke to me in the car.

"It is less than a week until the tea party. And, the day before the party, you’re supposed to go over to Betty’s house to bake a pie with her, if she’ll still talk to you after the scene you made."

I just looked down.

"I guess I should apologize to her, shouldn’t I"

"You certainly should, and to Mrs. Thomas too."

"Do I have to say ‘I’m sorry’ to the kitten too?"

"Don’t be fresh, Robbie"

Mom couldn’t help smiling, even laughing a little.

"I’m going to call Betty as soon as we get home."

"That’s a good idea. You may want to speak to her mother too. I think you should bring them something, to show you’ve thought about what you did."

"What do you mean, like a gift?"

"Like something you made yourself, that shows you learned your lesson."

Mom had pulled into the parking lot in front of a big store that sold fabrics and sewing stuff. I had been in this store with her before, but never dressed like this. We went inside. I had never realized what a girly place this store was. I noticed that they sold ribbons, lace collars, and tons of stuff for making dresses. We went to a counter that said "Needlepoint"

"Look at this, Robbie"

Some finished projects hung over the counter. They were in small frames, and had simple drawings on them, with captions underneath. They looked something like color cartoons, except they weren’t drawn, they were sewn. On the counter were the "starting materials." Mom picked up a piece of cloth that had a pale blue outline printed on it. There was a picture of a little girl wearing a long wide skirt. Underneath the picture, it said "We all have to learn to control our tempers."

"Ah, perfect. Robbie, you will spend the next few days embroidering this to give to Mrs. Thomas and Betty."

"Mom, only girls emb..."

Her look stopped me from going any further.

Mom collected the things she wanted to buy. She bought the cloth, and a little picture frame to hold the finished picture. She bought a few small hanks of colored thread. She called it "floss"

"We have everything else you’ll need at home."

When we got home I called Betty.

"Hello, Mrs. Thomas? Is Betty there? This is Robbie. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, to er.. both of you."

"Oh Robbie, It wasn’t that bad. I think Betty wants to talk to you too. I’ll get her."

"Hello, Robbie"

"Hello, Betty. I just wanted to apologize for how I acted."

"Robbie, it was my fault. I really shouldn’t have asked you about lipstick like that. I guess I forgot that you’re new at being a girl."

"But I’m not really a.."

"Oh I know that, but you looked so pretty, with your hair set, your nails polished and all."

"You’re not angry then?"

"No, neither is my Mother, not at you anyway. She thinks I shouldn’t have asked you about lipstick either. Are you still mad at me for asking you?"

"Not really. I just felt really funny about it."

We talked for a few more minutes. Betty said that her kitten tried to lap up the iced tea, and she had to hold the cat while her mother cleaned up the broken glass. They both knew the broken glass had been an accident.

After the phone call, Mom made me change into my white girl shoes and start on the embroidery.

"We’ve had dinner, and you can work on this until bedtime."

Mom got out a big round cardboard box full of embroidery stuff. She took two hoops, and fitted the "canvas" over one and clamped it with the other one.

Mom showed me how to thread the needle and how to make neat little X shaped stitches along the outline of the drawing. Mom gave me a thimble to use, so I wouldn’t stick my finger.

Mom had me sit down in the living room, being careful to smooth my dress under me as I sat down, and stay there, sewing for an hour and a half. She had me sitting right across from the big mirror. Every time I looked up from the sewing, I could see myself, hairdo, dress, pretty socks, and white shoes, sitting there. When I looked down, at my project, I saw my clean hands and polished nails. I wasn’t sure I wanted to really turn into a girl, but this was as exciting as anything I had ever done.

That night, I was pretty exhausted. It had been a very long day. I undressed and looked for my pajamas. There weren’t any in the drawer. I was sure I had seen a clean pair in there this morning, when I put last night’s away. There should have been two pairs in the drawer. I knew I would have to ask Mom. I put on my robe and went back down stairs.

"Mom, I don’t have any pajamas for tonight. I know I had a clean pair."

"Clean, yes, but so worn out! They were too small on you, and too warm for summer as well. I think you’ll find these a lot more comfortable in this weather."

Mom handed me a bag from the department store. There were two pairs of light, thin, short pajamas. I had no idea when she had shopped for these. She sure hadn’t done it when I was with her. These pajamas were so light! The bottoms were loose fitting shorts. The tops were a kind of loose fitting button up front shirt. They had short sleeves and came down longer than a regular shirt.

"Try a pair on. Here, the light baby blue ones match that sweet bow in your hair."

I had forgotten about that hair bow. That thing had been like wearing a huge sign that said SISSY, in big pink letters earlier today. Later, when I was sitting and sewing, I hardly noticed it. Now, it matched my pajamas!

I went to my room and put on the pajamas. What a light airy feeling. They weighed almost nothing, and even the slightest breeze made them move. I could feel air moving around my body as I walked.

"Aren’t you going to show me?"

"Sure, Mom, be right there."

I went back to where my mother was waiting.

"Spin around and show me the back"

I twirled around and ended with my back toward Mom. I felt the air moving through the thin fabric as I moved.

"They look fine. How do they feel."

"Almost like wearing nothing at all. Great for summer. Thanks Mom."

"OK, put the other pair away, and get to sleep. No, wait a second. I’ll come upstairs with you. I want you to do something a little different with your hair tonight, and put on some hand lotion before you turn in."

Mom came up to my room with me.

She showed me how to wind my tendrils on my smallest rollers for the night. We just wound my hair on them dry. Mom said we weren’t really setting the tendrils, just keeping them nice. I had 2 curls on each side that came down just in front of my ears. Mom had me put hair setting tape on those.

"Mom, I think my Slumber Cap may be too warm tonight. I don’t want my hair to get damp from sweating."

"Good thinking. You could wear a net instead."
We got one of the setting nets out from my roller box. It was a little loose, so mom showed me how to use bobby pins to hold it on. When we were finished with my hair, Mom put lotion into the palms of my hands and watched me rub it in, until it disappeared. She made sure I did a good job on the backs of my hands and around my nails.

"Those are the parts that people see most."

Then she left the room.

I took a last look at myself in the mirror before turning out the light. The little blue bow was still visible through the hairnet. My pajamas were so comfortable on that warm night, I didn’t even think about the pattern of lambs and rabbits printed on them. I did notice one thing though. The lambs and rabbits were all wearing hair bows too.

The next three days were pretty quiet. Mom called them "practice days." Each day I had to wear a different outfit, but no jeans or Tee shirts were allowed. Mom made sure my hair was always perfect, that my hands were always clean, and that my nail polish wasn’t chipped.

I spent about two or three hours a day on the embroidery project. It was almost finished.

I had stuck myself with the needle plenty of times while I was working. Mostly, I didn’t draw blood, though. This time, I poked the needle up through the canvas and stuck myself hard in the back of my left index finger. I felt the pain and quickly put my finger in my mouth. The bitter taste was intense. Mom noticed the face I made.

"What is it? You look like you bit into something horrible."

"Its OK Mom, just the stuff Betty gave me."

"I don’t understand."

"Oh its just this stuff, you know, you paint it on, like nail polish, but it’s to stop you from chewing your nails."

"Robbie, your using that bitter stuff! What a great idea. I didn’t even have to suggest it."

"Its no big deal, I put it on three times a day. It sure reminds me if I start to bite a nail though."

Mom stood up from her chair.

"Please come here."

I put down the embroidery and stood up. Mom had opened her arms in a way that said "hug"

As she wrapped her arms around me she said.

"You are becoming everything I had hoped you would. I am so happy to know you won’t turn out like him."

"Like who, Mom?"

"Oh Robbie, I had hoped to you from spare this. You are so young to have to hear about the troubles of grown-ups. But I guess you’ll learn about it all, sooner or later, anyway. Come sit here."

I sat down next to Mom on the couch.

"When I was younger, just out of high School in fact, I fell in love with a handsome young man."

"You mean Dad?"

"No, this was years before I met your father. This fellow’s name was Jack."

"We were together for two years. He said he loved me as I loved him. We were planning to marry and to begin a family. The wedding was only a month away. I was as happy as a young woman can be."

Mom paused.
"What happened then?"

"He hurt me very badly. I found out that he had another girlfriend.

In fact, he had proposed to her too."

"What did you do?"

"I didn’t really do anything. When I confronted him, he laughed in my face. He said something like ‘So I like pretty girls, so shoot me.’ If I had a gun, I would have!"

"Mom, what a horrible person."

"Well, I didn’t want to talk to another man for over a year. I almost became a nun. But then I met your father."

"Was he different?"

"I thought so, at the time. He was sweet and kind. He was funny too, in a gentle kind of way. I remember how he made me laugh by saying he could tell me apart from my sister, May, by how my eyes twinkled when I smiled."

"So you guys got married and I was born?"

"Well, we dated for a while. I was a bit scared at first. I didn’t want to risk being hurt again. But it was so easy to be with him. I began to trust him, then to love him. It didn’t happen all at once, but within a year we were married and you were well on the way."

"But, I guess something is wrong now, huh?"

"I think something has been wrong for a long time, but I didn’t want to admit it."

"What do you mean?"

"Your father has.."

Mom started sobbing. I didn’t know what to do. I first put my arm on her shoulder, then I turned and hugged her tight.

"Robbie, I’m so sad. Men can be so awful. I don’t want you to ever.."

I hugged Mom even tighter. Mom stopped crying and looked at me.

"I think it is all over between us now. I don’t think he will be coming home from Australia anytime soon, if he ever comes back. He just about said ‘good bye’ in his last letter."

Mom began to cry again. I brought her some tissues.

"Mom, would you like some cold water?"

"Robbie, dear Robbie. You are comforting me like my sister did after Jack. You are the best daughter a mother could wish for."

I knew this was no time to object.

We sat there and talked for a long time. Mom told me that she and Dad were going to get divorced and he would be free to marry somebody else, if he wanted. She said she didn’t want anything to do with men, not now, not ever. Then she broke out crying again.

I cried a lot too. I knew that I might never see my dad again, and if I did see him, it would never be like before.

Mom told me that Dad would still be sending us money for a while, but that she would have to go back to work in the Fall. She said that she had already spoken to Mrs. Thomas, and that they were thinking of opening a business together.

"What kind of business, Mom?"

"Well, we’ve been looking at a small hair and nail salon in a strip mall."

I had a million questions. What was the name of the salon? Why was Mrs. Thomas going back to work? Was Mom going to have to learn to give haircuts and perms? Was Betty going to help in the salon, like she helped with my perm?

Mom answered as many questions as she could. Ruth Thomas was going back to work because her husband had died two years ago, before I ever knew Betty. He had left them some money, so Mrs. Thomas could wait to go back to work until Betty was at least in 5^th grade. The salon was called Carol’s, but they were looking for a new name. Mom said that she thought Betty would be helping in the salon sometimes, and that I could too, if I wanted.

"But you’ll have to be very careful about your appearance and manners. People judge a salon by the people who work there, as much as on the quality of the work."

Neither of us was very hungry after all that heavy talk. We just had yogurt and toast and went to sleep early. My hair was getting kind of itchy after 3 days, so I didn’t put anything over it before I went to sleep. I figured I would wash and set it in the morning.

It was Sunday morning. Church day. I woke up to the sound of thunder. It was pouring outside. I knew my hair needed to be washed, but I didn’t really want to set it, and then just get the style ruined in the rain. Maybe I could just wear boy clothes today.

"Mom, do I have to practice for the tea party today, or can I wear my regular clothes?"

"You can wear what you like today, as long as it’s appropriate for church. But remember, you have those delicate little pearl studs in your ears, and you can’t take them out for another two and a half weeks."

I knew what Mom meant. I wasn’t in the mood to be teased. There was no way to hide the earrings. Pearl earrings on a boy? No way. Even strangers would make nasty comments. I would have to dress like a girl for church. I’m sure Betty would be happy enough to see me, but what if my cousin Jen was there? I could hear her now, calling me "cousin Roberta" in a voice loud enough to reach California. Well, Jen was Jen. She would call me names for wearing a dress, or tease me just as much for the pearl earrings. I was getting a bad feeling in my stomach just from thinking about Jen. I just hoped she wouldn’t be there today.

I shampooed my hair in the shower. I let the suds stay on my head a while. The soft, sweet smell seemed to make me feel better. I followed the instructions on the conditioner for "deep conditioning." I had read in one of the Hairdo magazines, that deep conditioning was important for permed hair. When I rinsed off and got out of the shower, the bathroom mirror was all fogged up. I dried off, wrapped a towel around my wet hair and went to my room in a robe.

I got out my box of setting supplies and sat down at my desk to do my hair. As soon as I unwrapped the towel, I saw my perm, just washed and not set. Wow, it seemed even curlier than when Mrs. Thomas had first unrolled it. I carefully brushed the bangs down, onto my forehead, and smoothed them as much as possible. I used a little bit of hairspray to keep them flat. I fluffed the damp curls up with my fingers. I looked like a French Poodle!

I put on a pair of panties, my white shorts, my purple ruffled shirt (I still don’t like to say blouse, even to myself.) white socks and my white buckle shoes. I went down stairs.

"Mom, look at all these curls! I don’t think I even have to set it."

"Oh let me look"

I shook my head. I could feel the curls shaking around on my head, they tickled my ears and my neck.

"You look adorable with those curls. And the straight, even bangs set them off nicely. Do you want to wear your hair like that? It certainly is pretty enough. Ruth Thomas knows how to give a perm. Not a bit of frizz."

"Can I go to church like this then?"

"Well, I didn’t say that. You know the rule about shorts to church."

I hadn’t thought about that.

"You’ll have to change, Chinos and a sport shirt, or a nice dress. But, you know, that top looks so nice on you... I wish you had a white skirt to go with it."

I went back to my room and changed into the yellow dress with the short sleeves. It had white trim, and I was wearing white shoes and socks. I checked myself in the mirror. I looked like a girl for sure. Jen would have an easy target, teasing me. My stomach was twisting into a knot.

"Robbie, what a great selection. You look very nice. Let’s have breakfast, and get going."

"Mom, do I really have to go? I’d rather not go today."

"Why, Robbie, you look so nice. It’ll be fun. I bet you’ll get so many compliments..."

"Mom, what if Jen is there? She’s sure to tease me. Maybe even start a fight."

"I have an idea, we could visit that new church I saw last week. It’s near the strip mall where Ruth Thomas and I have been looking at that salon. We could go to the service at that church, then I could show you the salon."

I felt better instantly. Mom made the eggs while I made the toast and poured the OJ. We ate, took umbrellas, and left for church.

It was a longer drive to the new church, than to our regular one. On the way, Mom and I had more time to talk. Well, mostly mom did the talking and I listened. As it turned out, Mom had kind of expected Dad to send a "good bye" letter for a while. She said he always seemed a bit too happy about business trips. I could tell that Mom was very sad about the Dad, and that she was doing her best not to cry this morning.

The new church was different from our usual one. The Reverend was a woman. She seemed to do less actual praying, and more talking with the congregation. There were a lot of kids there. Some were little babies, and some were older than me. After the service, everyone was invited for "fellowship." That turned out to be cookies in the church basement, with coffee for the adults and juice for the kids.

"Mom, can we stay for cookies?"

"We’re guests, not members."

"But the Reverend said, guests are welcome."

"Well, maybe we should. If I’m going to be in business right around the block, we should make friends here."

I stood close to Mom at first, and took some cookies and apple juice. While I was busy eating, Mom got into a conversation with another lady. They walked a few steps away from where I was. Soon I heard a voice from behind me.

"Hi, What’s your name?"

I turned and saw a girl about my age. She was wearing a white blouse and a red skirt. She had blonde hair that came down to her shoulders. She had about 20 separate bouncy ringlet curls that hung down all around her head, except in front, of course.

"Uh..My name is Rob..ie, Robbie"

"Hi Robbie, I’m Gloria. Did you just move here?

"No, we live in Wells, we just came to church here today."

Another girl walked up to us. She looked Oriental, with dark eyes and the shiniest black hair I had ever seen. It was long and straight, and looked like a dark waterfall as it flowed over her shoulders. She was wearing a prairie blouse, like I had at home, and dark dressy looking pants.

"Robbie, this is Becky"

"Hi Becky"

Becky looked at me closely for a second.

"Oh I like your earrings. I bet they’re new"

"Er..Yeah..They are new. How did you know?"

"Your earlobes are still a little red, right around the holes. I always notice people’s earrings, because I want to get my ears pierced so much, but my mother says I’m too young. She is so old fashioned."

" Oh Becky, don’t say that, I wish my mother could do my hair, like your mother did yours for the international festival. It looked so elegant."

"You mean when she gave me that Geisha hairstyle?"

"Yes, it was about a foot high. You looked so great. Robbie, you should have seen her. She had these jeweled chopsticks in her hair, and a white flower."

"You looked pretty special yourself, with those two braided buns, and the ribbons worked into the braids. Robbie, have you ever been in a festival like that?"

"No I haven’t We didn’t have anything like that in my school."

"We didn’t have it at school. It was here at church. It was so much fun. Gloria, do remember what happened with John?"

The two girls broke out giggling like some body had told a very funny joke. I just stood there.

"Should we tell Robbie?"

"Robbie, do you promise not to tell anybody? John would be so angry."

"Sure, I can keep a secret"

"I guess we can tell another girl."

Wow..If they only knew..Talk about secrets!

Becky continued.

"Well John and Billy are brothers. Their family came here from Belgium, a long time ago."

More giggling

"They had to get dressed up in traditional Belgian clothes for the festival. Gloria, you finish the story. I giggle too much when I tell it."

"Ok..Well their mother ordered clothes from a costume shop, and they made a mistake. They sent a set of boy’s clothes and a set of girl’s clothes."

Much more giggling

"John is smaller, and he has longish blonde hair, so he had to be the girl."

My heart was in my mouth. Why did they have to tell this story? Could they tell?

Gloria and Becky continued with the story, telling me all about

how John had to become a sweet little Belgian farm girl for the festival. They said that he had to wear a blue and white dress, and a lace cap.

"He had to tell everyone his name was 'Johanna' for the day, and

that he lived on a small farm near Liege"

"His mother had attached some long, blonde, fake hair to his cap, and braided it. It matched his own blonde bangs perfectly. He looked so pretty. I thought he should dress up more often."

"Oh Becky, you would say that. Robbie, do you think its OK for boys to dress up as girls?"

More giggles.

What were they asking? Could they see that I was a boy?

"Oh I don't know, Gloria, I guess its OK if the boy really wants to."

"Well, would you want your boyfriend to dress up like a girl?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

A quick bit of giggling.

"Well if you did? 'Cause Becky says as soon as she gets a

boyfriend, she is going to see how he looks in a dress!"

Lots of giggling this time. Fortunately, Mom came by to collect me. We had to leave.

In the car, Mom asked me about the two girls I was talking to.

"What did they talk about, Robbie"

"They started out talking about my earrings, but ended up talking about dressing boys up in girls clothes. Do you think that they knew about me?"

"I doubt if they could have guessed in a hundred years. I was watching from across the room. You looked like a perfectly lovely young girl. Two ladies asked my about my pretty, well behaved daughter."

I didn't have much to say, but I thought it was strange that Gloria and Becky would be talking so much about that topic.

We ate lunch at a Wendy's. We each had a small burger and a big salad. Mom said the greens were healthy for me. I would have preferred fries or onion rings.

After lunch, Mom showed me the salon. It was a small place and looked kind of old fashioned. Strange thing was, it was open, even though it was Sunday afternoon.

"Robbie, they must be very busy, to have to stay open on Sunday."

Mom looked in through the window.

"I don't see Carol, the owner. I have an idea. We ought to find out how they treat customers. Carol says they have a lot of business, but I want to see for myself if they seem to be keeping up a good reputation."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if a new customer comes in, do they welcome her, and make her want to come back?"

I felt like I was in for a boring afternoon. I figured I would have to hang around and wait while Mom got her hair set, or something.

"Mom, if you're gonna check them out, can you please take me home first? I don't want to hang around a salon all afternoon."

"Not just me, sweetheart. We are going to sample their work together."

I felt my stomach drop. I was going to get something or other done at a salon. With everyone watching.

"Mom, do I have to? Everyone will see..."

"I have to know how they treat young customers, as well as grown women. This will be perfect. I've only spoken with Carol, so these beauticians don't know me. If they have time for us this afternoon, we are both going to get shampoos and sets. Mom walked into the salon. I followed, dreading every step.

The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was a heavy sweet smell, with chemicals underneath. I was pretty sure someone was getting a perm, or had just finished getting one. I was pretty sure the sweet smell was hairspray, stronger than I had ever smelled before. In a way I was scared stiff of this place, but in a way, I was more excited than I can describe.

There were two young women working there. One was tall with black hair that was all piled up on her head. It looked like her hair was pretty long, but it was all worked into waves and curls and probably had lots of pins and spray in it. The other young woman was slightly shorter. She had curly red hair that bounced on her shoulders as she moved. I figured she had set her hair that very morning.

Both women were dressed all in pink, except for their shoes. Those were white. The tall women greeted Mom.

"Hi. Welcome to Carol's. I'm Joyce. Can I help you?"

"Hello, I'm June, and this is my daughter Robbie. Do you have time to do two "shampoo and sets" this afternoon?"

"I think we do. We stay open on Sunday because so many women around here work all week, and want fresh hairdos for Monday. But we have a few slots."

"Great. I'd really like to try an updo again. I haven't had one in months. Do you think my daughter's hair is long enough to put up, too?"

"Let me see. That's a very pretty dress, Robbie"

"Thank you."

"I'll bet they call you Roberta in school. They hate nicknames. Now take Billie, over there, the other beautician. Her real name is Wilhemina. She hates it, but her teachers made her use it. No teacher ever called her Billie until she got to beauty school, she says."

All through this talking, she was running her fingers through my hair and stretching out a curl here and there, to see how long my hair was.

"This is a very nice perm you have here, young lady. If I put your hair up, the curls would last and last. Would you like an updo?"

What could I say? I was so frightened of getting my hair done at a salon. What if someone figured out I was a boy, a very sissy boy? But I was getting so excited by the thought of an updo! My penis was sticking straight out, pushing my panties against my dress. What if Joyce notices?

I wanted an updo just like those beautiful women in the Hairdo magazine were wearing, but I was so afraid to say so.

"I tell you what. You can think about it while I shampoo your mother’s hair. Besides, your hair feels like you just washed it this morning. If you did, I wouldn’t want to shampoo it again. I can just wet it for your set."

Joyce left me watching from across the salon while she led Mom to the shampoo sink. I could just imagine it was me, as she put a pink plastic cape over Mom and tied it behind her neck. I remembered the tight feeling of the cape around my neck, when I got my perm. I slowly walked over to the shampoo area. I wanted to watch Mom get shampooed.

She asked Mom to sit down. Soon she was shampooing Mom’s hair. She lathered it twice.

"June, you have very nice hair. I can tell that you don’t abuse it. Some women damage their hair so badly, it’s a shame."

"Thank you. But I’m afraid it is more laziness than care, I don’t do much with it, just simple roller sets."

"Well, at least they’re not damaging."

Joyce worked quickly. When she wasn’t talking, she hummed. After rinsing out the second lather, she spoke to Mom.

"Do you usually use conditioner?"

"Oh yes, my hair is a bit harsh otherwise,"

Joyce put conditioner on Moms hair.

"If you’re comfortable, we can let the conditioner work for five minutes."

"Oh I’m fine. I could fall asleep here."

Joyce covered Mom’s head with a towel.

"You sit here, Robbie"

Joyce pointed to the next shampoo chair.

"I thought you didn’t want to shampoo my hair."

"I don’t plan to shampoo it, just water and a bit of conditioner."

Joyce put a pink plastic cape around me, just like Mom’s.

"I don’t want to get your pretty dress wet."

I sat on the shampoo chair. The cape got caught in the arm of the chair as I sat down. Joyce straightened it and smoothed it. As she did, her hand slid over the bulge I was making in my panties and my dress. She paused for the slightest fraction of a second and looked straight into my eyes. She looked confused, then she smiled. There was no doubt about it now. She knew.

I held my breath. I tensed up, expecting her to go from a smile to a bully’s laugh. I wanted to jump out of that chair and run for my life. She bent close to my ear, her back to Mom, and whispered softly, right into my ear.

"Ease up, sweetie. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. If its OK with you and your mom, its OK with me. Just relax and enjoy."

I heard her words, but it took a few seconds for them to sink in. I just nodded my head.

Joyce wetted my hair with the warm spray and gently massaged my scalp. She turned off the water and worked the conditioner through my hair. She covered my head with a towel, just like Mom’s was.

The phone began to ring.

"I’ll be right back."

Joyce rinsed her hands, dried them, and walked to front of the salon. I turned and looked at Mom. She was already looking toward me and smiling.

"Robbie, the two of us must be quite a sight, reclining here like two ladies of leisure, getting out hair done."

"Mom, she knows, and I’m scared."

"How do you know, what did she say?"

"She felt my...me...when she was smoothing my cape."

"Oh my."

"She said it was OK, but I’m still scared. What should I do?"

"Not much you can do. Let’s make the best of it."

Mom smiled at me and I tried to smile back. I rested my neck as comfortably as I could on the rounded edge of the sink, and waited. Joyce came back.

"You ladies are both ready to be rinsed. You first, June."

I turned toward Mom and watched Joyce adjust the water and rinse the conditioner out of Mom’s hair. She wrapped Mom’s head with a fresh towel when she was done. Joyce walked Mom to a styling chair.

"Billie will be doing your set. I’ll do Robbie. That way, both of you will be finished at about the same time."

Joyce came back and rinsed my hair. She wrapped my head in a towel and walked me to her styling chair.

"Have you decided? Want to try an updo?"

Well, here goes. "Make the best of it." Mom said.

"I’d like to try an updo, but is my hair really long enough?"

"Well, not for a full, high style, but I can sweep the back up and pin it, and you can certainly have a nice curly look on top. What do you say?"

"Ok"

Joyce picked up a rat-tail comb and began to comb through my hair. She sprayed some setting lotion on it and started to put in the rollers. I watched in the mirror. She was working quickly, but every roller was wound even and tight. Once or twice, she picked up a roller, looked at it, then switched it for a different size, before using it.

"I want to take out some of the curl in the back, so your hair will sweep up smoothly from the nape of your neck. I’m using the biggest rollers I can back there."

Soon, she had my whole head rolled up. The familiar pull of the rollers was very exciting. I knew this feeling and always looked forward to it. I couldn’t really tell the smell of the setting lotion on my head from all the other strong sweet smells of the salon, but I knew it was there. I looked over at Mom. Her hair was longer and she had a lot more rollers in hers. Billie was putting in still more rollers.

Joyce took a can of hairspray and sprayed the rollers.

"This gives a little extra crispness and shine to the curls. It’s a good technique for formal updos"

She put a yellow hairnet over my rollers and put big cotton pads over my ears. Mom was getting the same treatment, but her net was black. Joyce removed my pink cape.

"See, your hairnet matches that lovely yellow dress of yours."

She walked me over to a row of five chairs against the wall. There was a dryer above each chair. There was a woman in the middle chair, with her head under the hood of the dryer. Joyce sat me down at the end of the row, farthest from the door of the salon. There was an empty chair between me and the woman. Mom was right behind me. Billie sat her in that empty chair, next to me.

Joyce turned on my dryer. I could hear the motor noise and the air rushing by my head. Everything was muffled a bit by the cotton over my ears, but I couldn’t miss a kind of rattling sound. This was a well-worn dryer.

Billie had finished setting Mom up under her dryer. Before she walked away, she handed Mom a few magazines. Mom turned toward me and offered a magazine to me. Of course, it was magazine for girls. I settled down to enjoy the warmth, and the snug feeling of the rollers, as they dried.

I was going through the magazine when I noticed Joyce walking toward me. She didn’t come right up to me though. She walked over to the woman who was sitting next to me. I saw her lips move, but the dryer was too loud to hear her. I turned to watch. She turned off the dryer and lifted it from the woman’s head. The woman got up and walked across the room to Joyce’s styling chair. Joyce followed.

I watched as she removed the net and rollers from the woman’s pale blonde hair. She had long hair. Even fresh from the rollers, the tight curls touched her shoulders on the sides, and fell even longer onto her back. She must have been sitting under that dryer a long time, to dry all that hair!

Joyce was lifting the hair from the back of the woman’s head, one curl at a time, teasing it a little with her comb and giving it a short shot of hairspray. When she had gotten all the curls at the back teased and sprayed, she began to smooth them up toward the top of the woman’s head and pin them. That’s when I realized that Joyce was giving the woman an updo. I couldn’t see everything she was doing, because her back was toward me. But she moved around enough for me to get the general idea. I watched as much of the process as possible. I moved my head around, as much as I could with my rollers bumping into the dryer, to see what Joyce was doing.

When the woman’s hair was all piled on top of her head, Joyce began to work on each curl, one at a time. Now she was using her fingers more than the comb, as she placed curls, pinned them, and applied lots of spray. Finally she spun the styling chair almost completely around to finish the front of the hairdo. She completed her work by spraying the woman’s hair with a lot of spray.

I had been so fascinated watching Joyce create that updo, that I had barely noticed my own hair. I could tell, by how the rollers seemed to tighten up, that my curls were almost dry.

Joyce finished up with the woman’s hair, then the two of them walked to the front of the salon where the woman paid and left. Joyce went back to her styling chair, put away some things and then came over to me. She lifted my dryer hood.

"Let’s see if you’re cooked yet"

She unrolled one roller, then another from a different part of my head.

"Dry and ready to finish. Ready for your comb out?"

"Sure."

"Still want that updo?"

"I guess so."

I wanted an updo more than ever, after seeing how beautiful that woman’s hair came out. I knew I couldn’t possibly have a hairdo that fancy, in fact I really didn’t want to look exactly like her, but I wanted to find out how it would feel when all my hair was pinned up and sprayed like that.

Joyce got me into her styling chair. Mom was still under the dryer. I noticed she was watching me, just as I had watched a few minutes ago.

Joyce took out all my rollers, and began to work at the back of my head, just as she had done with the woman.

"You have lovely hair. Young people have such healthy hair. I love to work with it."

I could feel her combing and spraying.

"I’m going to smooth the back up as well as I can. Some of your hair is pretty short, but I think I can get it to stay up. I hope you don’t mind pins and spray."

"I’ve had spray on my hair before. It’s alright."

Joyce worked on my hair for a few minutes. I could feel her sliding bobby pins in, high on the back of my head.

"Your curls will hide most of the bobby pins. I don’t like to leave them showing if I can help it."

Now she was working on the top of my head. I was watching her every move in the mirror. I was feeling excited all over as I saw my curls lifted and worked into a pile. Joyce put a different kind of pin into some of the curls.

"What are those pins?"

"Oh these"

She held the thin wire pin in front of me

"Yes, those aren’t the same as bobby pins."

"These are called hairpins. They are used to hold curls, mostly. You can also use them to hold some kinds of rolls and buns. They seem to be more for formal hairdos than for casual styles."

I just nodded.

"If you don’t mind me asking, are you going someplace special with your Mom? I mean, not too many kids get updos."

I didn’t want to say anything about Mom buying the salon.

"Well, we’re going to a fancy tea party, day after tomorrow."

It was only a little fib. Mom would be driving me to the party.

"Day after tomorrow, huh, well be sure to wear something when you go to sleep. Even with a perm, you’ll have to take care, to keep your updo nice."

"Ok, I have a have a Slumber Bonnet to wear."

"Hmm. Have you been...er...wearing fancy hairdos for a while?"

I could tell Joyce was starting to think about me. About how I’m a boy in a dress, getting my hair done, and that this isn’t the first time I’ve had a girl’s hairdo. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the Slumber Bonnet. I didn’t know what to say. I was getting uncomfortable. I didn’t say anything.

"No matter to me. Hey, I’ll tell you a secret. I’ve heard a lot of women complain about how they have to go through so much, to look pretty. They say they hate all the time and money it takes to keep up their hair, and their nails, and all the makeup. Well, I think they’re lying. Mostly they love it. Everybody likes to be pampered. You have beautiful hair. You should enjoy it. Any way you want to."

I was still uncomfortable. After all, Joyce knew I was a boy. True, she wasn’t calling me a sissy. Not even close. It was like she was saying that it was OK for a boy to have a girl’s hairdo. It wasn’t even like Mom saying that I looked "neat and well groomed." Joyce was saying that it was OK for me to look like a girl. I was getting to like Joyce.

All the while she was talking, Joyce kept pinning curls into place at the top of my head. She had teased most of the hair from the front of my head up and brushed it back, adding it to the mass of curls. It made all my hair look higher. She had left just a few strands of hair to brush down as bangs.

"Almost finished, Robbie. Ooo, there are a few strands sticking out in the back. This should hold them."

Joyce picked up a jar from her shelf and put some kind of gel on her fingertips. I could feel her smoothing something onto two spots just above the back of my neck, moving her fingers from the bottom up. She got her blow dryer and dried the spots.

"Those strays will stay in place now. All done. Wanna see?"

"Sure"

Joyce spun my chair around until my back was to the big mirror over her shelf. Then she handed me a big hand mirror. I already knew how to use it to see the back of my head.

"Do you like it?"

It was hard to put into words. It looked almost like the fancy updos in the magazine. I was so excited by that look when I first saw it. Now, I was seeing it on me!

"Wow, Joyce, It is an updo. Even in the back. You got it to look like all my hair is long enough to make curls on top of my head."

"I’m glad you like it. Now I have to spray it, so it will last a few days. Shall I use lacquer? It’s shinier and lasts better."

"OK."

"Close your eyes."

Joyce sprayed and sprayed. I wondered when she was going to stop. Finally she was done.

"Now, don’t even touch it, until the spray dries. Then you can touch it very gently."

Joyce helped me down from her styling chair. The salon had lots of mirrors and I kept seeing myself in one or the other. I loved my new hairdo.

Mom was still in Billie’s styling chair. Joyce said I could wait for Mom in an empty dryer chair. I sat down, where I could watch Billie doing Mom’s updo.

Billie had pinned up Mom’s hair in back, but not straight up like mine. Mom had a kind of rolled twist leading up to the top of her head. At the top, her hair was done as a bunch of big, round, shiny, tubular curls. The curls looked as perfectly round and shiny, as they looked when they were on rollers.

When Billie moved to one side, I could see Mom’s face in the mirror. She didn’t have bangs at all. Her hair was all brushed up high in front. Billie was doing something with a curling iron at the sides of Mom’s head. I watched to see what she was doing.

When she finished, Mom had loose, spiral tendrils on both sides. Billie finished Mom’s hair with a lot of spray. I think she used even more than Joyce had used on me.

When Billie was finished, Mom paid Joyce for both of us, and gave tips to Joyce and Billie. We left the salon. While walking back to the car, I thought about how Joyce knew I was a boy, and how she would probably tell Billie. I knew I would probably be seeing them both again, especially if Mom and Mrs. Thomas bought the place. I wondered if Billie would treat me like Joyce had, or if she would be a bully, like my cousin Jen. Life would be lousy if I had an adult bully to contend with.

When we arrived home, Mom made sure that I got right to work on the embroidery project. I only had a little to go anyway. When I was done, Mom looked it over carefully and had me pull out a few stitches and do them over. When she was satisfied with the whole job, she took the small picture frame she had bought in the craft shop, and framed the thing.

"This should be wrapped as a gift, you know. Would you like to do it?"

"I guess I have to, don’t I?"

Mom didn’t answer, she just left the room and came back with wrapping paper, tape and scissors. I wrapped the package in the flowery paper.

After dinner, Mom said I could spend the evening anyway I wanted, but I had to stay dressed in the yellow dress. I sure couldn’t go out in the street dressed like that, so I just watched TV until bedtime. Mom made sure I wore those light pajamas and my Slumber Bonnet to sleep. She also made sure I had laid out the orange dress, panties, a slip, socks and my white shoes for the next day.

Mom showed me what she would be wearing. She had a red dress with tiny white dots all over it. The dress had a white collar and short sleeves with white edges. Mom would be wearing white shoes too.

Mom let me sleep until 9:00 the next morning. We had breakfast. Mom asked me what time Betty expected me at her house to bake the pie for the party. I had almost forgotten about the pie.

"I don’t think we ever set a time, Mom"

"Well, I think you should call Betty, then."

I called Betty and we decided that 11:00 sounded good. I had over an hour until we had to leave and I wanted to take a bike ride.

"Mom, can’t I wear something else today, after all, pie-baking isn’t really a dressy occasion, is it?"

"Ordinarily, it isn’t. But with that updo, you look a lot nicer in a dress, than in shorts."

"So I have to stay dressed up, all day today?"

"Yes, sweetie, I’d say so."

"But I can’t do anything I want to do, if I’m wearing a dress.’

"Oh Robbie, you look so adorable. What’s a day anyway? Just enjoy it."

After a long and boring hour and a half, we left for Betty’s house.

Betty’s mother greeted us at the door.

"Come in. Wow, look at the two of you! You’re beautiful. I love those hairdos. Did you get them done at Carol’s? Betty, come see Robbie and Mrs. Balter. They look so pretty."

"Hi, Mrs. Balter. Hi Robbie, Ooo I like your hair...Eeek..Your ears! You got your ears pierced! Oh, let me look close. Those pearls are so delicate. When did you have them done? I wish I had gotten pearl starters when I had my ears pierced. I think they are so sophisticated looking. Mommy, don’t Robbie’s ears look fantastic?"

I felt very self-conscious. I could feel my ears and cheeks turning red.

"Well Robbie, where did you get them done?"

"At the mall. It’s like a big stand that sells earrings. The girl there pierced my ears."

"I’ll bet you’re so happy. I begged my mother for weeks before she let me get mine pierced. She wanted me to wait two more years, can you imagine waiting that long? Mother made me promise to take very good care of the holes, when they were new. Have you been keeping yours clean?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom makes sure I clean them with alcohol."

"How long before you can change your earrings?"

"About two weeks, I guess. I got these put in the same day as...Hey, I almost forgot. Here, Mrs. Thomas. This is for you. I’m sorry I lost my temper."

Mrs. Thomas began to unwrap the needlework.

"You didn’t have to. We understood. But this is so sweet. I’ll hang it up in the kitchen where it’s easy to see. Betty and I have our moments too, you know."

Mrs. Thomas gave Betty and me aprons to wear, even though Betty wasn’t nearly as dressed-up as I was. Then she went into the living room to talk with Mom, while Betty and I worked on a cherry pie. She made us promise to call for help when it was ready for the oven.

The person who first said "as easy as pie" never baked one. Betty had looked up a recipe for the crust of the pie. She went shopping with her mother yesterday, probably while I was getting my hair done, and bought all the ingredients. There really weren’t many ingredients, just flour, butter, water and salt. We mixed everything together, but when we tried to roll it out, it all fell apart. I thought it needed more water, but when we tried that, the stuff became a sticky mess and we didn’t know what to do. We knew we had to ask for help. We wiped our hands and went into the living room.

"Mother, can you help us? This pie isn’t coming out right."

"Oh, that’s not good. I’d love to help, but Mrs. Balter is the real expert on baking."

"Mom, can you show us what we’re doing wrong?"

"Sure Robbie. Ruth, do you have an apron I could borrow?"

"Of course, June."

We all went back to the kitchen. Mrs. Thomas gave Mom a big white apron that covered the whole front of her dress. Mom took off her rings and her watch and washed her hands.

"Now I’m ready to help."

Mom picked up the ball of dough we had made.

"My, this is much too wet. We can either throw it out, or add more flour. We may end up with enough for two pies."

Sure enough, when Mom added just enough flour, the stuff began to behave. Betty and I watched as Mom bent over the table and rolled out the crust. As she moved, the loose tendrils bobbed around her cheeks. When she bent forward, I could see the ends of the pins that were holding her hair in the twisted French roll. Two pins were almost half backed out.

"Mom, two of your hairpins are coming out."

"Where, dear"

"In the back, Mom"

"Could you push them in for me. I have flour all over my hands."

Mom turned so the back of her head was toward me. I gently pushed the pins back into her hair. When I touched the roll of hair, it felt very firm and stiff. I had touched my own hair a few times since getting the updo, very gently like Joyce had said, and it was stiff too. I liked the way Mom’s hair was rolled in back. I knew that it was the kind of thing a boy should never want for himself, but maybe someday, if my hair gets long enough...

"Betty, Robbie, I want both of you to see how this is done."

Mom showed us how to roll the crust up onto the rolling pin and unroll it gently into the pie tin.

Betty filled up the shell with the cherry filling from the can, and Mom had me cover it with a top crust. A few more steps, and it went into the oven.

"We have enough dough left for another pie. Who wants to try an apple pie?"

"Great."

"I love apple pie."

"I have about 6 apples in the fridge."

Mrs. Thomas put on her apron, got the apples all peeled and cut, while Mom watched Betty roll out one crust, and me make the other crust. In about 10 minutes, the apple pie was in the oven with the cherry pie.

We all helped clean up the kitchen.

"Everybody OK with hot dogs for lunch?"

"Great."

Mom had answered for all three of us. We all had hot dogs and milk. Mom and I kept our aprons on. We were both wearing dresses and didn’t want to get them messy. By the time we finished eating, it was time to get the cherry pie from the oven. Mom did that. Later, she got out the apple pie too.

We all took off our aprons and Betty and I went down to the playroom. Mom and Mrs. Thomas stayed in the kitchen, talking, over coffee.

I felt a little funny looking at Betty. Here I was, dressed completely as a girl. I even had such a dressy hairdo, that I had to wear a dress to go with it! I even had little pearl earrings. Betty was wearing shorts, a tee shirt and sneakers. She had her hair in a ponytail. I mean, except for the fact that all her clothes were in white or pale colors, she was wearing the same stuff a boy would wear in the summer!

As soon as we got downstairs, Betty put her two hands on my shoulders and kissed me on the forehead.

"I’ve missed you so much. Did you miss me?"

"I guess I did. But I was a little afraid of coming over to see you today. You know, after what I did."

"I told you not to worry about that. Besides, you look so pretty, I could never be angry with you. I never saw you in a dress before. I love your hairdo and your earrings. Was it your idea to get your ears pierced?"

"Not exactly. Mom made me get them done when she was punishing me for how I acted here, last week."

"Well, I don’t care how it happened. I think they are adorable. I think you are adorable. Your mother may have wanted to punish you, but she just made you prettier, and that’s hardly a punishment."

Betty hugged me, and I hugged her back. I could smell some kind of perfume. It was a sweet, friendly smell. We sat down on the couch.

"Robbie, You and your mother both got your hair done at Carol’s right?"

"Yeah, It took about two hours."

"Well, tell me all about it. That’s the place they want to buy, isn’t it?"

"I think Mom liked their work. She says they probably have a lot of loyal customers"

"Mother told me about what she and your mother are planning. It’s so exciting. Imagine, our Moms are going to be in the salon business together."

The problem was that I could imagine it. I figured I would end up spending a lot of time around there, dressed in a way I didn’t want to think about.

"Betty, do you think they’ll really buy it?"

"I’m pretty sure they will. My mom has been talking about going back to work for months. She says your mom will make a great partner."

We talked for a while, about the salon. I almost told Betty about Joyce finding out I was a boy, but I decided not to. I didn’t even tell her how I was dressed yesterday.

"Robbie, is this the dress you’re going to wear tomorrow, for the party?"

"No I don’t think so. I have a green one at home. I think Mom wants me to wear that."

"Would you like to see the dress I’m going to wear?"

"Sure"

I followed Betty upstairs.

"Mother, may I show Robbie my new party dress?"

"Sure, dear. Don’t get it dirty, though."

Betty rushed up to her room and came back down stairs carrying a pink dress on a hanger."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, it’s very pretty."

"I’m going to do my nails to match it. I want to do my hair in about six little braids, with pink ribbons worked into the braids, too. Let me see your nails."

Betty carefully laid the dress on a chair and looked at my hands.

"Very nice. You have stopped biting them. I told you that stuff would work. What color polish are you going to use for tomorrow?"

I remembered the question about lipstick.

"I think just clear, like I have on now."

Betty didn’t ask anything else. I think she remembered last week, too.

"I’m so excited about this party. Robbie, is this your first real tea party too?"

"Yeah, I guess it is. Do we just drink tea and have cookies and stuff?"

"I think we do that, but I think we are supposed to act grown up, and have very good manners too. I hope I can act fine enough."

Betty’s mom had been listening. She put her arm around her daughter.

"Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ll do fine."

"Everybody, the apple pie is cool enough to eat. Who wants to try it?"

Mrs. Thomas, Betty and I joined Mom in the kitchen. She served the pie, while Mrs. Thomas poured glasses of milk for everyone. The pie was delicious.

"Great pie, Mom"

"Yes, June. It is fantastic."

Betty carefully tasted the pie and then wiped her lips with her napkin. She looked directly at Mom, and with only a tiny smile she said.

"Mrs. Balter, this pie is most delectable."

Mom answered her very seriously, then smiled.

"Thank you, Miss. Thomas. I’m flattered."

We all laughed.

We finished our pie and milk. Mom said it was time to get home.

"Remember, Robbie, Ashley’s house at 3:00. I can’t wait to see all the girls again."

We drove home.

"Robbie, wasn’t Betty adorable? The way she was ‘practicing her manners.’ She is such a darling!"

"Yeah, it was funny. I hope she was joking. If I have to act like that, I’ll probably crack up laughing."

"Little girls sometimes play-act that way. You can just play along, if you want. It makes them feel grown up. It’s just for fun."

It was still a while before dinner. Mom said it was OK for me to take off my dress, and put on boy clothes, as long as I was very careful not to mess up my hair. I changed into a pair of old jeans, but I had to wear an old sport shirt instead of a Tee.

I did some work on the flying model I was building. By the time dinner was ready, I had finished the wing frames, and part of the horizontal stabilizer. I had glue and bits of balsa wood sticking to my fingers. I knew I couldn’t get this glue off with water, not even with soap.

"Mom, can I use some of your nail polish remover again? More airplane glue to get off."

"Sure Robbie, it’s in the medicine cabinet. Bring it down here after you use it. I want to change my polish after dinner, too."

I got the glue off. Of course, the nail polish came off too.

After dinner, Mom looked at my nails.

"You know, Robbie, you could wear a bit of color for tomorrow, if you want to. I think that’s what most of the girls will be doing."

"Mom, remember, I’m an honorary girl, not a real one. Just clear, OK?"

"OK"

We polished our nails. Mom did hers in red, and I put on clear. When mine were dry, I added a coat of the anti-biting stuff, and let that dry too.

I was pretty tired and went to sleep early. I wore my Slumber Bonnet again. My updo was still very stiff in the back, and real curly on top. The bangs were getting messy, so Mom made sure I wet them and used pink tape to hold them flat against my forehead while I slept.

Mom didn’t wake me in the morning and I slept until 9:00. It was already warm, and looked like it would be a hot day. Of course, the only shorts I had were really girl’s shorts, and so were the shells that went with them. I put on a pair of white shorts and a yellow top. I wore sandals too.

"You look comfortable. I guess you can stay that way, until you have to change for the party. Try not to sweat up."

Mostly, I read, and cut out some parts for the plane. I did a little sanding, but I stayed away from the glue. No point in ruining my nails again.

Soon after lunch, Mom came into my room.

"Time to start getting ready. You take a cool bath while I get your clothes ready. I left some bath salts by the tub. Be careful not to wet your hair."

"What are bath salts"

"You’ll see, put a capful in the tub. I think you’ll like it."

The bath salts made the water smell sweet. Even after I dried off, I could smell the sweetness on any part of me that got close to my nose. When I got back to my room, Mom had clothes out on my bed. She turned her back while I took off my robe and put on the light green panties. These were very different from the other panties I had worn. These were so smooth, and actually felt cool against my skin.

"Do you like them? They’re nylon, instead of cotton. They feel cooler, don’t they?"

"Yeah, they do. They feel so light and slippery too."

"I thought you might like them better on a hot day. Be careful not to sweat up though, they can get a bit sticky."

Mom had me put my hands over my head, and dropped a slip on me. It hung down from my shoulders. It was very, well, slippery.

"Mom is this made of nylon, like the panties?"

"Yes, it is. Do you like it?"

"It feels nice."

Mom looked at me carefully for a minute, like she was checking exactly how the slip fit, or something.

"Now for the dress."

Mom got my green dress out of the closet and opened the little buttons on the back. She had me hold my hands up again, and on went the dress. Mom did up the buttons.

I looked down and I could see the edges of the collar, white and lacy. The sleeves had white lacy edges too. This dress had about twenty times as much lace as that horrible lacy bow tie thing, but when I looked in the mirror I didn’t look like a sissy boy at all. Of course, I was used to how I looked with an updo. It was just that the hair and the dress together left very little that looked anything like a boy.

Mom watched as I brushed my bangs and sprayed them. She added two hairpins and some spray to one big curl.

"That one was starting to fall a bit."

I put on my thin, high white socks, and those very shiny, new, black shoes.

"Robbie, come look in the big mirror. I want you to see how pretty you look, from head to toe."

I followed Mom downstairs to the hall. I looked in the mirror. Just like in my room, there was a pretty girl looking back at me.

"Robbie, I want you to try something. You don’t have to keep it on, if you don’t like it."

I didn’t want to ask.

"Hold your lips like this."

Mom stretched her lips. It was what I thought. Mom moved the lipstick along my lips. When she finished, she asked me to close my lips against a tissue.

"Now look in the mirror again."

I looked, and saw why Mom had asked me to try the lipstick. Somehow, I looked even more like a girl than before. Even though the color of my lips didn’t look all that different from usual, maybe a little redder, the last trace of boy seemed to be gone from the mirror.

"Well, do you want to keep it on?"

"Sure, Mom, why not."

Mom had the car pulled into the driveway. It was only about 5 steps from the door. I wasn’t really worried about being seen though. Today, I was a lot more likely to be mistaken for my cousin Jen, than I was to be recognized as Rob Balter.

We didn’t have any trouble finding Ashley’s house. It looked like a big house, even before we got up close to it. Mom pulled into the driveway, behind two other cars, and we walked up to the front door. It smelled like the grass had just been cut, but there weren’t any clippings around. Everything looked very neat.

I rang the bell. Ashley came to the door. She was wearing a dark blue dress with a printed pattern of bright flowers. Her light brown hair looked freshly curled, only now it was pinned up, something like mine.

"Hi, Ashley"

I’m not sure I would have recognized her, except that it was Ashley’s house, so who else would it be?

She looked at me for a few seconds. She looked puzzled, then she smiled.

"Oh Robbie, come in. I’ve never seen you like this. I almost didn’t know you."

Mom took her hand off my shoulder.

"I’ll be back just before 6. Have fun dear."

I went inside with Ashley.

"Robbie, I love your dress. That lace trim is so delicate. Did you pick it out?"

"Well, Mom and I..er..shopped together for it."

"And patent leather shoes. You look perfect."

"Thank you. I like your dress too. You must like flowers."

"Come on in. Caroline brought pictures from her sister’s wedding. She was in the wedding party. She looked like a dream. Wait till you see!"

We walked into the living room where Betty, Caroline and Sara were talking. I remembered Caroline. Her long black hair was braided again, but now the braid was wrapped into a bun at the top of her head. A pale green ribbon was wrapped around the base of the bun, and tied in a bow at the back. Her dress matched the ribbon. It was pale green, with darker green trim. I think the pale green of her dress was about the same color as my panties.

Sara was wearing a long skirt that almost reached the floor. It was dark with a kind of swirl pattern on it. She was wearing a white blouse that looked very shiny. She had a necklace on, made out of small seashells. Sara’s hair was very different from what I remembered. Today, she had long, perfectly formed ringlets down her back. She was wearing a white headband. I think if she didn’t have that, the ringlets would have almost covered her face, there were that many of them!

Betty was wearing the pink dress she had showed me yesterday, and as she said, she had her hair in about six little braids, with pink ribbons worked into three of them.

"Robbie, you look fantastic."

Betty hugged me, and with her face next to mine, she whispered in my ear.

"You look great with lipstick. What made you try it?"

"Mom"

I whispered back as softly as I could.

"Oh, I hope she wasn’t nasty about it."

"No, it was OK."

Betty took a step back.

"Come here, Robbie, look at these pictures Caroline brought."

Caroline had about eight pictures with her. She showed all of them to me. Betty, Sara, and Ashley watched, even though I was sure they had seen them before I got there. Caroline described each picture in detail. She named all the people in them. She thought her new Uncle Dave was very handsome. Sara asked her if she wanted to marry someone like him, some day. Caroline didn’t answer, but she blushed. The other girls giggled.

When Caroline finished showing me the pictures, she looked at me like she had noticed something.

"Girls, look. Robbie got his ears pierced, and he’s wearing pearl studs."

"Oh, let me look."

"Me too"

Sara and Ashley crowded around me, with Caroline.

"Did it hurt? I want to get earrings. My mother said it’s fine with her, but I hate getting stuck with needles."

"Don’t be a baby, Sara. All big girls wear earrings, right Robbie?"

Now it was my turn to blush.

"Hey, I’m honorary. I’m not really a ..."

"When you’re with the club, you’re a girl. You have to be, because no boys are allowed in.

I wasn’t going to argue with Ashley.

The doorbell rang. Ashley went to the door and came back with Susan. Susan was wearing a light purple dress with matching socks and white shoes. Her short, bob hairstyle looked very neat and shiny, and she had two tiny gold and purple clips in her hair.

"Come here, Susan, look at Robbie’s pretty earrings. She just got them."

"They’re so nice. I wish I could get earrings put in. I would love to have earrings dangle out from under the edges of my hair. I think that look is so great, you know when a girl has a smooth bob, that covers her ears, but the earrings hang down. Or even if she has studs, and when she moves her head, you can sometimes see them. But my mother won’t let me."

Betty put her arm around Susan.

"I had the same problem. My mom wanted me to wait two years! Can you imagine? I had to promise to take very good care of the holes."

"My mother says that nice girls don’t pierce their ears, until they are much older."

"Hey we’re nice girls. And all of us have earrings except Sara and you. Even Robbie, and he just became a girl.

Everybody giggled, except Susan and I. Caroline looked at all of us and spoke.

"I have an idea. Susan, when your mother comes to pick you up, we can all show her our earrings. With us all dressed up today, and all acting very ladylike, maybe she’ll change her mind."

"Oh let’s try it. She has been in a good mood today."

"What if she notices me. I don’t have earrings either."

Ashley looked very serious.

"Sara, would you really like to get your ears pierced?"

"I’m still a little afraid, but I guess so.’

"Well, my mother used to be a nurse. She did my ears, last year. She used an ice cube first. I hardly felt the pinprick."

"Could she do mine, today?"

"I can ask her. Is your mother home, because I think my mother will want to talk to her first."

Ashley went in to talk with her mother. Sara looked a little bit nervous, and Caroline came over and took her hand.

Ashley was back in a few minutes. She was carrying a bowl of ice cubes.
"Sara, your mother said it was fine with her. In fact, said she can’t wait to see you with pretty little starter earrings. My mother is sterilizing a pair that she used to wear. They are very simple, just tiny, brushed gold balls. Here, take one ice cube in each hand and hold them against your ear lobes. When your lobes are really, really cold, you’ll barely feel the needle."

Sara put an ice cube to each ear and sat on the couch. Ashley sat down beside her and motioned for me to sit by Sara’s other side. I did. Sara looked at both of us.

"I’m still scared, but both of you look so grown up and..well..just so dressy with earrings, that I’m not going to let anything stop me now."

We sat with Sara as she held the ice to her ears. Now and then she would take the ice away and pinch her earlobe with her fingers.

"Wow, I can hardly feel anything now. Ashley, call your mother."

Ashley’s mom came into the room carrying a tray with a few items on it. She showed us the earrings she had picked out for Sara. They were about the same size as mine, but instead of pearls, they were little gold balls.

"Ok, Take the ice away from your left ear and hold still now."

Sara put down the ice cube from her left hand, and kept the other ice cube in place.

"Robbie, would hold my hand? I’m still a little scared."

I took Sara’s cold, wet hand in both of my hands.

She squeezed my hand as Ashley’s mom wiped her ear with alcohol and then pierced it and put in the earring. Sara barely made a sound as it was done.

"You can put the ice back if it hurts."

"Oh, its fine. Just do the other one. I can’t wait to look in the mirror."

Ashley took Sara’s right hand as her other ear was pierced.

"All done. Take a look."

We all followed Sara, as Ashley led her to a mirror in the hall. As soon as she saw herself she began to smile. She kept turning her head from side to side to look at the two earrings.

"Oh thank you so much. They look so nice."

Sara hugged Ashley’s mom, then she hugged Ashley. Then we all went into the dining room and the tea party really began.

Ashley and her mom had set out gleaming white cups and plates, very fancy looking spoons and forks, and even cloth napkins! Everything was so fancy, like it was the kind of occasion where Mom would make me wear a tie, only now I was wearing a dress instead! Not just a dress either. I was wearing patent leather shoes, earrings, nail polish, even lipstick.

Each of us took turns serving what we had made. Caroline served little white sugar cookies. Ashley and Sara had worked together to make brownies. Susan brought home baked bread and some strawberry jam, and of course, Betty and I served our cherry pie. There were so many treats on my plate, I didn’t think I could finish them all. Ashley’s mother poured the tea. She said it was herbal, because we were too young for caffeine.

Susan told us to remember that we were young ladies, and that we didn’t have to eat everything on our plates.

Betty showed everyone how to hold a teacup.

"Hold it with just your thumb and two or three fingers. Let one or two fingers stick out. That way, some of your pretty nails show."

"Yes Betty, and we have to drink quietly, no slurping"

"And no talking until we swallow."

"And take tiny bites."

They all sounded like my mother and my aunt. I didn’t say anything.

We all complemented each other on the things we had made. Susan’s home made bread was different from anything I had ever tasted. It had sunflower seeds in it! After we finished our food and tea, we sat at the table and talked. I watched how Betty carefully wiped her mouth and folded her napkin. I tried to do exactly the same thing. When I looked at my napkin, there was a faint smear of red on it. For a second I thought my lip might be bleeding, then I realized that it was my lipstick smeared on the napkin. I think I blushed.

"Susan," Caroline began. "We better figure out what we are going to say to your mother, to convince her to let you get your ears pierced."

"Maybe we can invite her to have a cup of tea with us, and just start talking about Robbie’s new earrings, and Sara’s." Answered Susan.

Betty added "Discussing it over tea would be so grown up. We should do it."

I asked what we would do if Susan’s mother didn’t come until some of us had already been picked up, or if all our mothers arrived together, or something.

We decided to call our moms and ask them to come for us a half hour later. Susan didn’t call, of course. She wanted her mother to arrive first, so we could talk with her. I couldn’t reach my mom. She wasn’t home.

We went back to looking at Caroline’s pictures while we waited for Susan’s mother to arrive. We told Ashley’s mom about our plan, and she agreed to help us.

"I think that delicate little earrings are as necessary to a girl as dresses. They help us all remember to play gently, to act like little ladies."

I felt uncomfortable when she said that. I didn’t want to be reminded to act like a lady. I could feel my ears getting red as I thought about the little pearls sticking out of my lobes.

Ashley’s mom had just finished putting out three extra places at the table, when the doorbell rang. We all expected Susan’s mother. My mom walked in instead.

Sara asked her to stay for a cup of tea.

"Thank you, young lady, I’d love to join all of you for tea."

Ashley’s mom sat down too.

Betty told about Susan and how she wanted earrings, and about what we had planned.

"Oh I agree. Susan, I’m on your side. Earrings are such a nice accessory. Even inexpensive ones can add so much to an outfit. I can’t wait to help Robbie pick out a few pairs, as soon as he can take out his starters."

"Mom do you want me to wear ear.."

Mom shot a look at me. I knew enough to shut up, fast.

Susan’s mother arrived. She joined us at the table.

"Oh this is such a fancy tea party. I feel like I should be wearing a party dress and white gloves."

"Sometimes, we like to feel grown up."

"Well, Betty, you all certainly look dressed for the occasion."

"I think two of us feel especially dressed up today."

"Yes, look, I just got my ears done. Ashley’s mother did them. Aren’t these studs pretty?"

Betty looked at me.

"Robbie, tell us about your earrings. They’re new too, aren’t they?"

"Yes, I got them a few days ago."
Yeah, and what a day that had been. I didn’t plan to give them any details about that.

"Mother, would you please let me get my ears pierced too?"

"You know Susan, I really think you should wait until your older, but I see all these nice friends of yours, and I‘m starting to change my mind."

Susan’s mom smiled.

"Sweetheart, if you promise to keep them clean, and be careful not to snag them when you brush your hair, I’ll give you permission."

Susan got up and ran over to hug her mother. We all got up and followed her. We all hugged Susan and her mother, and cheered and clapped for her.

"When, Mommy? When can I get them done? I want to go right now, on the way home. Come on, the mall is open late."

"Susan, my dear, you are in such a hurry. I’ll bet you already know what kind of starter earrings you want."

"I sure do. I want pearls, just like Robbie has. I think they are so feminine. I mean, I’ve seen boys with earrings, but never with pearls. They are something special, just for girls."

"Hey, wait a minute, I’m not really a.."

Caroline interrupted me.

"Well, you’re sure not really a boy either, are you?"

"Caroline, that’s not very ladylike. Remember, we voted him in, and I think Robbie is a great member of our club."

"Betty, you’re just saying that because you like having such a sissy boyfriend."

"Well, Caroline, at least I don’t have to scrape the mud off my boyfriend before I hug him."

"Hey, don’t you say that about..."

Caroline stopped mid-sentence. I don’t think she wanted to say her boyfriends name.

"Come on, tell us who he is."

"Yeah, Tell us now."

"No, Ashley. Maybe later"

It got very quiet after that. Betty stood near me and kept frowning at Caroline, who frowned back.

The party broke up soon after that. Caroline’s mother arrived to pick her up. Caroline said "good Bye" and hugged everyone except me and Betty. Sara’s mother rang the doorbell about 5 minutes later. She made a big thing about Sara’s new earrings, and thanked Ashley’s mom for doing them for her daughter. Mom told me that we would be taking Betty home. She said she wanted to stop and talk with Ruth Thomas for a while. When we got to their house, Mom and Mrs. Thomas went into the kitchen for coffee, and Betty and I went down to the playroom.

"So, Robbie, how did you like your first girl party?"

"It was OK, I guess, except for Caroline. I really hate being called a sissy. If she was a boy I would have belted her."

"Oh, I know that. I’m so glad you didn’t do anything like that. Besides, who is she to talk? She likes Jim Skelly. He’s such a jerk. He got left back in the third grade."

"Betty, is it true that you like me just because, you know, because I set my hair and wear... Because I look like a sis..."

Betty put her arms around me.

"Robbie, I like you because you are the sweetest, most gentle, boy I have ever seen. You are so special, that I want you all for myself. It even made me mad when you sat next to Sara and held her hand."

"That was just because she was nervous about her ears."

"I know, but still, it bothered me."

"I’m sorry."

Betty hugged me tighter and we kissed, just a quick touch of our lips. Then Betty put her finger gently on the tip of my nose.

"Wait here Robbie. I have a surprise for you."

 

 

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