Forgetful Francie               by: Emmie Dee           © 2000

 

Hi. My name is Frank. Franklin Karl Wilcox. Sometimes people call me Forgetful Frankie. Now I'm being called Forgetful Francie. I don't look much like a Frank anymore, and I won't until I get home from this strange, strange vacation.

It's a rainy day here at the beach, so mom is letting me use her notebook computer to write my story. She wants me to keep it, so I'll remember that forgetting things has consequences. As if I'd ever forget that now!

A week ago last Friday, we left on our first big vacation since dad died 3 years ago. "We" are my mom, Dr. Anna Wilcox, my two aggravating sisters, Kim, who is 12 and Karrie, who is as big as I am, even though she's only nine-going-on-ten, and me. I turned 11 last month. Mom teaches anthropology at a college. Generally speaking, I'm just an average boy in appearance (well, not right now). I'm not the shortest or skinniest in my class, anyway. My bright, straight red hair is about the only thing that makes me stand out in a crowd. I wear silver wire-rim glasses, but only when I want to see. The teachers always tell my mom that I'm one of the brightest kids in the class, I'm friendly, cooperative, cheerful, and—forgetful. My grades are good, but the teachers and mom always remind me that they would be better if I remembered to hand in my school work. Are you seeing a pattern here, as mom would say?

Anyway, for nearly the 3 years since dad died, this vacation has been a big goal. It took us a long time to get out from under medical debts. We saved little bits of money any way we could and stashed it in a vacation fund. Mom is afraid of getting into more debt, so we had to have the money all in advance.

Mom is super-organized, and knows how to plan and carry off field trips, archaeological digs, and vacations. And what she planned did sound like fun, for all of us.

Last Friday we left on a drive that would swing us west to see our aunt—mom's sister—in Colorado, into the mountains, and south through New Mexico, ending up on the Texas gulf coast, before returning home up through the plains. I was already engrossed in the new Harry Potter book when we hit the interstate outside of town. I heard mom ask if we were sure that everything had been carried into the living room, so it could be loaded into our minivan. I didn't think too much about it, and mumbled "yeah, sure, mom," and went back to Harry. I knew that my backpack with my books, my bathroom stuff, and things like that was right there by my feet. And I had carried out my suitcase to the living room.

Four hundred miles later, we were in western Kansas, and suddenly I remembered. I had carried my suitcase to the living room. Then I had carried it back to my room to squeeze something else in it. Was it was still back there? I quickly unbuckled and scrambled over the back seat, shoving suitcases aside. I was right. Mine wasn't there. "Uhhh—mom?"

When she heard me tell about the missing suitcase, her face went white, and her knuckles on the steering wheel went white, as well. "Franklin," she began, softly, with her teeth clenched. "You may have just ended the vacation that we have all worked for over the last 3 years. We'll spend the night in Colby, like we'd planned, then we'll turn around and go home. And stay there. We will lose too much money in canceled reservations, and there won't be time to go out again this summer before I start teaching again." Kim glared at me. Karrie started bawling.

"Uh, mom? Can't we just buy a few new things for me at a discount store or something? I could wash them out at night?"

"That would be a possibility, except then we would have to cancel the big theme park day to pay for it," mom explained. "You know we can't go into debt to buy anything more than what we budgeted. That means we all pay the price for your forgetfulness."

"Way to go, Forgetful Frankie," Kim mumbled. Karrie was still snuffling that she didn't want to miss the theme park. I didn't either.

"Mom, I'll do anything it takes to not spoil our vacation. I'm really, really sorry."

We drove a few miles across the high prairie in silence. Then I noticed Kim grinning wickedly at me from the front passenger seat. She looked at mom, with the sweetest, most innocent expression you'd see on an angel, and said, "Mom, since he didn't bring his clothes, he can wear some of ours."

Karrie yelped and jumped up, held back only by her seatbelt. "Yes, mommie. We have enough clothes. He'd look so cute in my yellow sundress!"

"No," I yelped. "I'm a boy. I can't wear girl stuff. People will laugh at me."

Mom smiled. "You did say that you'd do anything. Now just everybody be quiet and I'll think about it awhile." It seemed like hours, as my fate hung in the balance, but finally she said, speaking very slowly: "It might work. It might actually work. Frankie, people won't laugh at you, because they will think you are a girl. And living as a girl for the next two and a half weeks might teach you that you need to try harder to remember things."

Kim and Karrie started hooting and laughing. "Frankie is a girl! Frankie is a girl!" they chanted.

"Wait a minute!" mom commanded. We will do this, and we will all have a good time. You won't torment your brother about it. And even more important, you won't ever, ever, ever tell anybody else about this. Frank will have to be very brave to do this, and it can save our vacation. But she can't do it if she knows you're going to tease her, or if she worries that his friends will find out." (She, her, I wondered? I just sat there, stunned.) If either of those things happen, you may find yourselves, after we get back home, wearing crew cuts and boys clothes for two weeks, where all your friends can see."

"Oh, no!" they gasped together. They both reached up and touched their pretty blond hair. After a moment of silence, Kim spoke up. "Mother, we accept the deal. Until we get back home, Frankie will be our sister, and we won't tease her about that, and we promise never to tell anybody. Besides, Frankie might learn something by being a girl."

"It could be a learning experience, Frank," mom agreed. I could be abducted and dissected by aliens and put back together with three eyes and six legs and mom would call it a learning experience. "It could definitely be a learning experience. You heard the girls promise, and I will hold them to it. What do you say?"

"Are you sure that we can't just buy some boy clothes and I'll pay you back?"

"You wouldn't learn not to forget that way. No, it's be a girl on a great vacation or be a boy back home, with two very angry sisters."

"Well, okay. I guess." I mumbled. "I'll try and do it."

"Good," mom smiled. "We'll start right after supper. But we all have to remember in everything we say, whether in front of anybody or by ourselves, to call Frankie she, not him, your sister, not your brother. Okay? Now I know some girls are called Frankie, but maybe it would help us remember if we called you Francie—we had planned to name you Frances if you had been born a girl. Girls, meet your new sister Francie."

The girls giggled. Karrie said, "Hello, Francie. I'm so glad you could come with us." My fate was sealed.

Mom made the girls (the other girls) promise not to mention it during supper, and they didn't. My stomach was so churning that I couldn't eat much, and I dawdled with my food, trying to delay the inevitable. It didn't work.

"Girls," mom said, as we entered the room. "Let's have a slumber party. We'll all get out of these dirty old traveling clothes, and put on our nighties and be comfortable."

My sisters looked at me and grinned. "Sounds great, mom!" Kim said.

As mom began opening suitcases and digging through them, she said, "Francie, I know that you're scared people will see you as a boy dressed up in girl's clothes, and that they will laugh at you. Now this is going to be both bad news and good news at the same time, but by the time we're done, nobody will ever think you are anything other than a very cute, very nice 11-year old girl, unless you give it away."

"What about Aunt Chris and Uncle Doug and Lisa, my cousin," I protested. "They'll know." Mom listened to me as she pulled out a pair of pink panties and a pink flowered nightgown from Karrie's suitcase. She lets Karrie choose her own clothes, so I knew they were intended for me.

I was right. She handed them to me. "Uncle Doug won't be there. He's on a business trip. You're right that Chris and Lisa will know. "I'll call them so they know what's going on and why, and I'll make them promise not to tell anybody or to give you a hard time, too. As a matter of fact, between Chris being a beautician and Lisa just being two years older than you are, I'm sure that they will help. Now march into the bathroom and take a shower, and put these on," she said, pushing the panties and nightgown into my unwilling hands. "We'll change for bed while you're in there, and sort out some clothes for you to wear tomorrow. We'll shower in the morning. Don't forget to wash your hair. Doing each other's hair is part of the fun of a slumber party." Fun. Oh, yeah. She put her hands on my shoulders, gently turned me around to face the bathroom, and started me in that direction. Kim and Karrie were trying not to giggle too loud. As I took off my worn jeans, my KC Royals tee, my athletic socks, basketball shoes, and briefs, I could hear mom on the phone, talking to her sister.

I spent a lot of time in the shower, dreading what was to come. Mom finally called in for me to finish and get dressed. After drying, I slipped on the pink panties. They sure felt strange, but kind of good, nice and smooth. The nightie was soft, too. This was going to be totally embarrassing, I thought, as I stepped out of the bathroom.

The rest of my family were all in their nightgowns, too. Karrie was reading a book as Kim combed her hair. They looked over at me and grinned. Mom invited me to sit down on a desk chair, then started brushing my hair out for me, using a hair dryer as she brushed. Every now and then she would set the dryer down, grab a clump of hair, and play with it for a little bit, twisting, or working it in with other clumps, but would give up and brush it back down. It felt kind of good to have her play with it. She parted it down the middle, and looked how each side lay. Then she parted off a lock right above my forehead, and combed it straight down over my face. Part of it hung clear down to my nose. "Mom, I can’t see much with my hair this way," I said.

"You will," she said. Then I saw the scissors moving in just above my eyebrows.

"Bangs! Mom, remember I’ll be a boy again in two weeks. You can’t cut my hair like a girl’s!"

"Sure we can. As soon as we get back, I’ll get you one of those cool Caesar cuts that you’ve been wanting—kind of spiky on top and combed forward into a little fringe. You’ll look great." She had picked up two of those little elastic loops that girls use in their hair and pulled up a little tuft of my hair on each side high above my ear into a short puppy dog tail. The other girls—oh, my, I was starting to think of myself as one of them—already had their longer hair combed that way. They grinned at me and told me I was cute. I didn’t want to be cute.

"Now we’ll do our nails," mom said. Mom wasn’t into fancy nails, but hers always looked nice, and usually had a light polish on them. She started to file and shape my nails and Karrie’s, who were shorter than mine. Then she pulled out a bottle of red—really red—nail polish. "Isn’t this nice? They had a little section of beauty and health supplies at that convenience store where I got gas, and this was the prettiest color there." The two K’s asked to go first, and I watched with morbid fascination as they spread the red paint carefully onto their fingernails, and then their toenails. Then they handed the bottle to me. I tried to imitate the way they did it, starting at the base of the nail and going up to the end in smooth strokes. I smudged a bit, but mom wiped it off before I dried, so it didn’t look too bad. For bright red, I mean. On a boy.

They all chattered away, and they worked on each other’s hair—including mine. Kim asked "What about Francie’s glasses, mom?"

Mom looked at me. "They work. Those wire rims are nice and unisex. They could just as easily be on a girl."

"I know that," Kim said. "They look cute. But do you think silver jewelry would look nice on her to go with the glasses? And shouldn’t she get her ears pierced?"

"Please, mom!" Karrie shouted. "Let’s both get our ears pierced!" Mom had promised Karrie pierced ears as a birthday present, two months away. I held my breath. Actually, two boys in my class looked really cool with tiny studs in their left ears. I had thought about asking to get my ear pierced, but had been too afraid. I decided not to say anything, so they wouldn’t know that I wanted to do that.

"No," mom said. Rats. "That’s a little mean. But I’ll keep it in mind if he forgets anything else." I smiled. Kim and Karrie thought I was smiling because I wouldn’t be getting my ears pierced. I was smiling as I was figuring out what I could forget tomorrow. Not much else happened. We sat around and watched TV and munched snacks. Finally, mom said we needed our beauty sleep, even though we were all very beautiful to begin with. I tried worrying about what more embarrassing things would happen to me, but I fell asleep anyway.

On to Denver

"Wake up, sleepyhead," mom said as she shook my shoulder. "Your sisters are bathing, and since you showered last night, we'll start getting you dressed." I climbed out of the folding bed in the motel room without it collapsing—always a good sign. Mom helped me slip off the nightgown and gave me a fresh pair of yellow panties, not too lacy, thank heavens, and turned her back so I could slip them on. Then came the training bra. Last night, it was like a pretend game and I didn't mind it too much. Now it became too real for me. I was going to spend every minute of the next two weeks living like and looking like a girl. People in a whole bunch of states would see me like this. I broke down and started whimpering.

Mom hugged me after she finished fastening the bra. "There, there. It's okay, Francie. I promise we'll do everything we can to help you have a nice time in spite of all this. Or maybe even because of all this, you'll end up having a nice time. Trust me, okay? We want what's best for you." I nodded, but my lower lip was still quivering. It didn't help much when I saw the outfit I was supposed to wear. Yellow shorts with a monogrammed flower. Plastic white sandals. A top that left my whole tummy bare. Mom helped me into the stuff. I felt chilly in the air conditioned room. I shivered, from the cool and from nerves. Just then, the girls came out in their undies, and walked over to put on their own outfits. Kim had jean shorts and a striped tee. Karrie had a blue outfit. I was the most girlish looking of the lot. I didn't think that was a coincidence.

"You look so cute today, Francie," Kim cooed.

"Yeah, just adorable!" chimed in Karrie. I pretended my fingers were scissors and made a clipping motion at my hair. That seemed to shut them up. I would continue to use that during the rest of the time if I felt they were teasing too much.

We grabbed breakfast at Mickey D's. I wanted to go through the drive-through and eat in the car, but mom wanted to keep the van clean. So in we trooped. Senior citizens looked over and smiled at us pretty girls. I blushed. If one of them came to pat me on the head, I promised to myself, I would bite.

I was still feeling overwhelmed and lonely when we went back to the van.

"Do you want to ride shotgun today, Francie?" mom asked. Usually Kim and I argue over that privilege.

"No. All those people in other cars would be looking right at me. I'll hide in back with Karrie." We all climbed in and buckled in. As we started on the way, I picked up Harry Potter. It was hard to read, though, because I kept staring at my red thumbnails holding the book open. Finally I sighed and put it down. I usually like looking out the window, especially in places like the high plains and mountains, because I could just imagine the cowboys and robbers and settlers in covered wagons. This morning, I just looked down and brooded. A few tears trickled down. This was going to be a miserable trip. Even with me looking down at my lap, I noticed mom glancing at me in the rear view mirror. She looked concerned. Maybe if I stayed miserable long enough, she'd change her mind?

We pulled into a rest area. "Three things, Francie, when we go into the lady's room. Don't look too embarrassed, don't stare, and sit down to pee, okay?" After the pit stop, mom gathered us at a picnic table and pulled out some snacks. "Francie, you've been choosing to be miserable all morning. You don't have to be. You have the most wonderful imagination of any child I have ever known. Right now, that imagination is your enemy, because you're thinking of all the terrible things that are going to happen, right?"

"Right, I guess."

"Okay. Make your imagination your friend. You have to be a girl for a couple of weeks, but you can be any kind of girl you want. You don't have to be a sad, grumpy girl. How about this, since you like Harry Potter? You're a young wizard. A mean, evil sorcerer wants to kill all the young wizards because he knows your power is a threat to him. So your mother changes you into a girl to hide you and protect you. He's a chauvinist sorcerer, and he doesn't pay attention to girls. So you can a proud and strong young woman, and develop your powers. Try it. You'll have fun."

I had to admit I was intrigued. "Okay, mom. I'll give it a try."

After we got into the van, Karrie got fidgety and bored. "Tell you what, Karrie. We'll play pretend together. Get out your Barbie and she can be a wicked sorceress. And all these bean bag animals can be young wizards that she's cast a spell on. Let's try it. You'll have fun." And we did. We moved the toys around on the seat and knocked them on the floor, and made funny voices, and made up a wonderful adventure. By lunch time, I was so much into my girl wizard role that mom had to quiet me down.

Aunt Chris and Cousin Lisa

Mom's sister Chris is a lot of fun. When she and mom get together, things can get pretty wild. Her daughter, my cousin Lisa, is kind of neat, too, for a girl. But hey, who am I to talk? They both have red hair, just like me.

She met us in the driveway. "Sis! Kim! Karrie! Come in right now! And Francie! I am so glad that you could come. I've really been looking forward to meeting you. You are so pretty. And do you know what? By the time you leave tomorrow afternoon, you'll be even prettier." Oh, oh. Trouble brewing. Chris was a beautician before she married Uncle Doug, and she still works part time in her home. "You know? I had cleaned out a bunch of my daughter's clothes just last week, and I was going to give them to charity. But now we've sorted out some neat stuff you can take so you won't have to depend on your sisters." After we unloaded, we looked through the clothes. She was right. There was a bunch. She noticed my watch, a big clunky sports watch. "That watch really looks ugly on you, Francie. Lisa has a Belle watch from Beauty and the Beast that she doesn't wear anymore, and I think the battery still works." She trooped off and found it. Mom slipped my watch into her purse.

Then Aunt Chris led me into her shop and had me sit in the chair. I could almost imagine it was an electric chair. "That red nail polish is very pretty, Chris, but it doesn't quite work with your hair. Let's take it off." Well, that was a promising start. She started pouring this stuff that smelled like a cross between paint thinner and perfume onto cotton balls, and showed me how to wipe off the red polish. Maybe now my fingernails wouldn't look like bright red stoplights. She pulled out a little bottle with glittery green nail polish. "The teenage girls are really into colors like this, Francie," she explained. "And it will go so much better on you. It brings out the lovely green in your eyes. Yes, lime green is a really good color for you." She handed me the bottle and I obediently started painting my nails. Again. Now my nails wouldn't look like stoplights, but like go lights. While they were still tacky, my aunt started placing little decals on my nails, one on each nail—daisies, stars, and bows. She even placed them on my big toes, then painted over all of them with a clear polish. My nails weren't so bright, but they even looked more girlish.

Chris washed my hair next, and combed it out again like mom had done last night. Then she started pulling little pieces of it up. She called it sectioning. She rolled hair rollers down, all over the top of my head. When she finished, she put some more smelly chemical stuff on them.

"What are you doing?" I asked

"Setting your hair."

"I know that. But what's the smelly stuff?"

"I'm giving you a perm so your straight hair will be pretty and wavy. You'll like it. Trust me." Oh, yeah.

"Mom? Isn’t a permanent kind of uh…permanent?" I asked.

"Sure is," mom said. "But that cool Caesar cut we plan for you will chop most of the curls off."

"A Caesar, huh?" Aunt Chris commented. "Don’t worry at all, Francie. Actually the perm will help the Caesar. It’ll make the hair on top of your head spiky without having to put more goop on it. You’ll look like a really cool guy."

She put me under a hair dryer for awhile when she was done. At least I could read there, and not hear everybody chatter. Kim grinned at me. Karrie asked if she could get a perm, too.

I watched in the mirror as Aunt Chris unrolled the rollers and papers from my hair. It left these tight, goofy-looking curls all over the top of my head. She brushed them out, though, and they began to look better. Still strange, but better. Then Lisa my cousin came charging in. Her long straight red hair was tied back in a pony tail. She was wearing jeans and a tee shirt. There were more freckles on her face than I remembered, and I remembered lots. Lisa always moves and talks at supersonic speed.

"Hi, mom, hi, Aunt Anna, hi, Kim, hi, Karrie, hi, Fran—Oh, my gosh. Is that really you? What's your name now? Francie? You are so cute! I can't believe it. People always think that we look like sister and brother, but now we look like sister and sister! Your hair's fab, your nails—" she paused and looked me over. "you need earrings, though. All girls your age have them. Clip-ons are clunky, but I have plenty of pierced earrings I can give you, and hair stuff, too, and bracelets. Mom, you can pierce Francie's ears can't you?"

"Yes, mom!" Karrie shouted at our mother. "And mine, too!"

"We talked about that last night," mom said. "I don't want to force that on Francie. We can get her some clip-ons, I'm sure. Unless, of course, you want to, Francie."

Now I was on the spot. Karrie's eyes were wide as she grinned at me and nodded. I paused, then said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe. A boy in my class has a pierced ear, and I think it looks kind of cool. If I get my ears pierced, can I wear an earring when I'm back to being a boy?" Mom agreed that I could. "But will I look like a dork or a sissy with a hole in my other ear?"

My aunt looked closely at my ear. "There's a little crease here on your earlobe, Francie. If I put the hole right there, it will hardly show. It might grow over, anyway, if you don't use it for a long time."

"Go for it, then," I said. She swabbed down my ears with disinfectant, took a funny little earring gun, and shot me. Once in each ear. It hurt, and I flinched, but I didn't yelp. Now my ears had plain gold studs in them. Cool. And it gave me a chance to get down out of that chair. Karrie excitedly took my place. She yelped, but she grinned like an idiot after Aunt Chris finished and she saw her new earrings.

Aunt Chris offered to take us all out for supper that night, to a nice place. Kim and Karrie only had one set of dress-up clothes with them for the trip, so we went back to the bedroom to look at my cousin's old clothes. They found me a long, pretty blue skirt and a white frilly blouse that had a blue design stitched on it. It took them a bit longer to find dressy shoes that would fit, but they managed. They had a little heel, but it was tall enough for me. When I put all these on, everybody agreed that I looked great. I was embarrassed and pleased at the same time. Then we all went back to the studio, and Aunt Chris did all our faces. She used less makeup on Karrie and me, since we were younger, but it was still amazing to see myself with lipstick and some color on my eyelids and cheeks.

My sisters didn’t give me too hard a time, except that when Kim first saw me in the skirt she said that I looked like Margaret in Dennis the Menace, with my curly red hair and glasses. "At least I don’t act like her," I shot back. "Unlike you."

Dinner was great! I didn't even spill pasta sauce on my blouse. I didn't think too much about being a boy. Other people looked at us, but it was because we all looked so nice. We were three pretty blondes and three pretty red-heads, dressed up for a night on the town. This vacation might not be so bad after all.

It was a good thing I kept my outfit neat, because I wore it to church the next day, too. We all went, except for Uncle Doug who was still out of town. We filled a pew. On the way back home, we swung by an accessories store, and Aunt Chris treated me to three sets of silver earrings of my own. One of them was stud with a tiny jewel. I could wear It later, when I went back to being a boy. She also brought me a shiny green shamrock charm on a chain that I could wear around my neck, to look like a good Irish lass. Some bright green barrettes and clip-on ribbons went into the sack, too, since Aunt Chris liked that color on me so much. I even have a funky plastic purse, green on one side and clear on another, so you can see my lipstick, nail polish, tissues, and other stuff.

When we were ready to leave that afternoon after lunch, I had one of my aunt's old suitcases stuffed with my cousin's old clothes. "Thanks. I'll take good care of them," I promised.

"That's okay," my cousin said. "I've outgrown all that stuff. Just give them to charity when you get back."

Aunt Chris grinned. "You can keep them, though, if you want, Francie. You look so pretty, that you might decide to stay a girl."

I slapped my hand to my forehead and shouted "No Way!"

"Or, maybe play dress-up once in awhile," she suggested. I sighed Actually, that idea might have some possibilities. But I just mumbled "whatever."

They took my picture, and so did mom. "Remember," I said. "No one is to bug me about this later, especially around other people. No one, okay? If you show those pictures at a family reunion or something, I will run away from home, change my name, and no one will ever see me again. Ever."

I wore green bib overalls with yellow flowers embroidered across the bib and pockets. I had on a white-and-yellow striped shirt underneath. The collar was low enough that you could see my shamrock necklace. I felt comfortable enough looking like a girl now that I did argue Kim out of riding shotgun—besides, it would give me a better view of the mountains.

Randy

We spent that day and the next morning driving through the mountains, stopping at every overlook. We even got to ride on an old-fashioned narrow gauge steam train. When we arrived at a cabin we had reserved in a little town in south central Colorado, it was good to know that we could spend a couple of days here before heading south.

Our cabin was one of eight built along a rocky little river. I missed dad. He loved to go fishing with me, and he would have loved this place. Mom and my sisters had gone out to get groceries, but I excused myself and just sat on a picnic table watching the water splash over the rocks in the river. I didn’t notice the boy walk up until he was nearly next to me.

"Hi," he said. I jumped, startled. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. My name’s Randy. I live here. My folks own the cabins. My dad’s named Randy, too, if you met him when you checked in." I had. Big Randy had a brown beard. This Randy was about my age. He was taller and heavier than me (that doesn’t take much), and he had wavy black hair, blue eyes, and a shy grin.

"Have a seat, Randy. My name’s Francie. As long as we’re telling family stories, I’m named for my grandfather. Actually, his name was Frank. So they would have named me Frank if I had been a boy, but since I’m not, I’m Frances. But everybody calls me Francie." Everybody now, anyway.

"It’s a good thing they didn’t name you Frank," he teased. "You wouldn’t make a very good boy."

"What do you mean by that, smarty?" I was getting a little ticked.

"No, I didn’t mean to make you mad. You’re just kind of cute and everything. I like that Winnie the Pooh shirt, and those funky green nails. I like those cute freckles and those pretty green eyes. No, you’re definitely not a Frank, Francie."

If he could tease, I could too. "I’d be glad to do your nails for you, Randy, and loan you a Piglet shirt. And you have pretty eyes, too."

He looked a little nervous, and said, "No, that’s okay. I’ll stay being a boy. But it gets kind of lonely around here in the summer time, so I’d like to hang out with you, if it’s all right with you, okay?"

"Sure. I’m traveling with my mom and sisters, and we just visited my aunt and cousin Lisa, who has red hair, too, and ten times as many freckles as I have. So I haven’t got to be around boys much since we left home." I meant it, too. It would be nice to talk with a boy again. I just wish he wouldn’t look at me like a puppy dog. "But quit telling me how cute I am and all that mushy stuff, okay? You make me nervous when you do that." So we talked about the stuff we liked and didn’t like. He liked Harry Potter, too. He had a computer game that I liked, too, and so I hoped I could go play it with him.

Mom and the girls came back from the store, and Randy and I went to help them unload. Mom thanked him for helping, and invited him back later. Now it was time to fix supper. "Francie has a boyfriend! Francie has a boyfriend!" Karrie started chanting.

"Mom!" I shouted. "She isn’t supposed to tease me about this, is she?"

"The girls aren’t supposed to tease you about being a boy dressed up like a girl, actually," she said. "But Karrie, you shouldn’t tease him about his boyfriend, either. Even though he is really cute."

"MOM!" I shouted louder. He is not my boy friend! I like him like I like Will and David back home."

Mom apologized, but grinned at me. We worked together on getting supper ready. It wasn’t because I was dressed as a girl, either. I always liked to help chop food and stuff. Doing dishes I wasn’t crazy about.

Over the next two and a half days, we mostly relaxed. We took Randy with us on a picnic. I wore a denim jumper. My sisters were totally goofy, grinning at Randy and trying to get his attention. The rest of the time Randy and I hung out together. Most of the time we just acted like buddies. We hiked, we played games on his computer, and we joked around. Just before supper of our last full day there, he said "Francie, you’re a really neat kid. You look pretty, but looking pretty isn’t all you think about, like a lot of girls I know. We’re on the same wave length on so many things, it’s incredible. I wish you didn’t have to go." All I could do was smile and say thanks.

On the morning we left, I was wearing the black and white checkered canvas shoes that Lisa had given me, blue walking shorts, and a white top with blue trim around the—Mom calls it a bodice, I think. This top covered my tummy, but left my shoulders bare, except for the straps. I had finished packing early so I could say goodbye to Randy. We took a walk down an old railroad track that followed the river. We stopped to toss stones in or to watch frogs jump from the shore. One time we scrambled down the bank to get on a gravel bar. He took my hand to help steady me. But when we got down to the bar, he kept holding on. This was making me very nervous.

"Francie, I really like you. I’ve never had a girlfriend before, and I sure wish that you lived here so you could be mine. Could you write me letters when you get back?"

"Sure, Randy. I have the address on the leaflet about the cabins. Maybe I’ll send you a postcard from Texas," I told him.

"That’d be super! I’ll miss you." He said. There was that puppy dog look again.

Then he pulled me over close to him and kissed me smack on the mouth. I was so startled I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to run away. Another wanted to smack him. Another—well, I don’t know.

"I’m sorry!" he said. "I didn’t mean to do that. It just happened! Please forgive me, Francie."

After I caught my breath, I told him that it was okay. I just wasn’t expecting it either. And maybe we could be friends without being boyfriend and girlfriend.

"I’ll always remember you, Francie," he said as we started walking back to the cabins. "Outside of my mother, of course, you’re the first girl I ever kissed."

"And you’re the first boy I ever kissed," I said, truthfully. Hopefully, the last, too. When we got back to the cabin, mom and the girls were loading. "Hurry up, Francie," they called. "And be sure you get all your stuff, okay?"

"Sure! I’ll be right over." They were all looking our way. Then I noticed my hand was still in Randy’s. Well, I was going to be given a hard time about this anyway. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He hugged me and whooped and ran back to his lodge. Being a boy being a girl isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. It’s kind of interesting, as a matter of fact. But it’s also kind of confusing.

On the Road Again

Of course, Kim and Karrie were shouting and laughing at me, and making kissing sounds. Karrie was already in the front seat. "Karrie," mom said. "Would you please sit in the back with Kim for awhile? I think I need to talk to Francie." Oh, oh.

As we pulled out, I saw Randy standing in the office doorway, grinning and waving. I waved back. "I was a little surprised at what you just did, Francie. Are you sure that it was an appropriate thing to do?"

"What? You mean kissing Randy?" The girls giggled in back, and were leaning forward to hear every word.

"Mom, you wanted me to act like a girl, so I’m acting like a girl. A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. Besides, when my sisters saw me holding hands, I knew they’d give me a hard time, anyway, so why not give them a show?"

"Francie, I’m sure it was perfectly innocent and that you did it in good fun. But what about Randy’s feelings? He took it well, I have to admit, but he could have been terribly embarrassed. And now he’ll think there’s something romantic going on between you."

"Mom," I whispered, even though I knew the girls could hear, "I was just kissing him back. He planted a big wet smacker right on my lips, down by the river. Now that was embarrassing. I almost slugged him. But then I figured Francie might kiss him back, so I did." The girls gasped.

"You didn’t kiss him back down by the river, did you? That peck on the cheek was the only kiss you started?" Mom looked worried. I assured her that it was, and told her that I had no intention of kissing any other boys ever again.

Of course, that became the big topic of conversation for the girls. Although they were teasing me, I figured that if I didn’t act embarrassed or guilty, they would calm down. I did promise mom that I wouldn’t make any more boyfriends on the trip.

"One other thing that bothers me a bit, Francie. We all really like it there, right?" I agreed with mom. "I had hoped to be able to come back here for a vacation, maybe in another year or two. But if we come back and Randy remembers our family, what is he going to do when he sees a boy named Frank as part of our family, and no Francie?"

I hadn’t thought about that. Kim suggested I could be Francie again, but that didn’t seem like a good idea, either. Things get tangled, sometimes.

As we headed south toward the New Mexico border, mom smiled and said, "Francie, you know how I’ve said before that with your way with words and your wonderful imagination, you could grow up to be a writer?"

"Yes, mom. I think I’d like to do that, unless being a spy or superhero or astronaut takes up too much time."

"Well, someday you could write a story about a girl’s first kiss, and you would know from experience what you were writing about. How many other male writers could make that claim?" Mom’s words got me thinking. That’s when I decided that when I had the time, I’d write down about this trip so I would remember what it was like to be a girl—for a little while, anyway.

The Festival

Movie Star

For the past few days, we've climbed around Indian ruins in northern New Mexico. That's the danger of being the children of an anthropology professor. I got to wear jeans part of the time, so I felt a little more normal. It was fun, lots of fun. I loved being in the outdoors under that bright, blue western sky, with the red cliffs all around. I could almost forget my peculiar situation, at least until we would get back to our motel, clean up, and I'd have to put on a flowered dress for supper. And Kim or Karrie would always be sure to put butterfly pins in my hair, or something silly like that. And I'd have to do my nails again because I chipped them climbing rocks. Sometimes I'd fuss that I was dressed more girlish than my sisters were. Then they'd remind me who forgot his suitcase on the trip. Once mom said, "Kim and Karrie will have lots of opportunities to wear nice girl things during their lives. This may be your only chance. We're not trying to pick on you, Francie. It's just that your cousin and aunt enjoy more feminine clothes than your sisters usually wear, and you're borrowing your cousin's clothes."

Take today, for instance. We're in a town in eastern New Mexico. They're having "Trail Days," a big festival to celebrate the fact that they are on the Santa Fe Trail. My aunt had sent two old time western dresses with us. Mom said they looked sort of like the granny gowns that grandma used to wear when she was a young hippie. They had flower prints, had long arms, little lace collar and sleeves, and went clear down to our ankles. My cousin used to wear them at gold-rush days reenactments in the mountain towns near Denver. Since there were only two dresses, Kim decided she could wear jeans and a tee, because she was the oldest. So today, Karrie and I were looking cute in our long dresses, surrounded by other people in old-time western costumes. I felt like a refugee from Little House on the Prairie reruns. It was fun, though. Buckboards and chuck wagons rolled by, pulled by horses and mules. We got to scarf down funnel cakes. But then mom brought Karrie and me these awful ruffled sun bonnets.

We were loyally following mom down the sidewalk, when two people stopped and introduced themselves to mom. The man was dressed like an old west card shark, with a striped vest, a string tie, and garters on his sleeves. The woman had a dress sort of like mine, and had her hair tied back in a bun. She looked like a schoolmarm. I wasn't paying much attention to what they were saying, until mom said, "Well, that sounds interesting. But you'll have to ask them."

"Ask us what, mom?" I said.

The man bent down, smiled, and said, "I'm sorry, ladies. We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Jon Wengrin, and I run a media and production company in Albuquerque. The city here has commissioned us to create a video about its history, one that they can use in a visitor's center they are building. We are setting up a covered-wagon encampment near the river, out by the east edge of town, to shoot the scene that will tell the story of how the town was first settled. We had signed two professional actresses who were going to play the parts of the founders' daughters, but they ended up with a last-minute family situation. One of them was red-headed, and looked a lot like you," he said, pointing to me. "The other has brown hair," he told Karrie, "but we can put a wig on you, if you'd want to do it. The reason we're asking you two is that you look a lot like the actresses that will play the founders' daughters when they're a few years older. So if you'd like to try acting, we could give it a shot. It's a low-budget operation and we can't pay, but I think you'd have a lot of fun. And of course, when the video is completed, we'd send you a copy. So—what do you think?"

"Sure," Karrie and I both said enthusiastically. Kim looked miffed. They only needed two girls. But she was the one who left me to wear the dress today and look goofy, so I didn’t feel bad for her.

They invited us to have lunch with the other actors and crew. That was fun! Burgers and potato salad, chips and pop. Mr. Wengrin told us that they would shoot other scenes in the afternoon, rehearse ours, and then shoot our scene early in the morning. After lunch, we followed the camera crew around and watched as they taped scenes. One time, they had a string of covered wagons moving down the trail, and they drove alongside with their camera on a truck. They even let Karrie and me ride in the cab! About 4 o’clock we rehearsed our scene. The wagons were back in place. I found out that the schoolmarm looking lady that we met with Mr. Wengrin would be our mother. She was going to wear a reddish blond wig. Mr. Hanson would play our father. He was a big man with a beard and friendly wrinkles around his eyes. During our scene, everybody was going to be ready to leave, and I was going to ask my parents why we couldn’t stay here, since it was a nice place. We rehearsed it a whole bunch of times. The lady who was to act like my mother gave my real mother a list of instructions and a copy of the script. Finally, we left for the evening and stopped for pizza. Back at the motel, mom had Karrie and I take off our earrings. Frontier girls didn’t wear them. Then we used the smelly nail polish remover to take the color off our fingernails and toenails. I wasn’t sorry to see the silly decals go, even though Randy had liked them. That reminded me! I ran to the motel office because they had a postcard rack. I brought one with a covered wagon and came back and wrote hi to Randy, and told him about the fun we were having with the video. I went to look for a stamp. When I got back, was I mad! Kim had written XOXOXO all over it! Hugs and kisses. Good grief. I decided to send it anyway.

We were sound asleep when the alarm went off. It was still dark out! We rushed around to get out to the filming place. They were already busy there. The assistant director greeted us with a big hug. "Thank you for being on time! You’re all going to be great. I’m sorry about your pretty nail polish, girls, but we’ll make it up to you when we’re done, okay?"

"You don’t need too, ma’am," I said. "I was getting tired of that color anyway." She gave us some buckskin dresses and had us go change into them.

After we changed, I looked out the door. I asked what we were going to wear on our feet. "Dirt," the costume person said. And she meant it. She poured dirt on our feet, and rubbed it on our faces. Karrie said "Eeew." I was having fun. Then they put old worn sunbonnets on our heads. Finally we were dirty enough to look like pioneer children in a wagon train. We started for the area where we were filming, and Mr. Wengrin stopped me and lifted my glasses off my nose. Oh, dear. We started toward the wagon that was "ours." Mr. Wengrin called for the camera to start shooting. I walked up to the wrong man. I can’t help it. They all looked alike. Blurry. We started again, and this time Karrie held my hand. The cameras followed us. I walked up to my actor parents, and said, "Mommy, daddy, this is a nice place. There’s grass and plenty of water. Why don’t we stay here?" Karrie nodded, right on cue.

The adult actors looked at one another and talked, too low for the microphone to pick up. Then my "daddy" smiled and said, "That’s not a bad idea, Katrina. Not a bad idea at all." We jumped up and down and grinned like fools. The director yelled "Cut.!" It startled me. Did we do it wrong?

"Great on the first take! You two should be professionals," grinned Mr. Wengrin. We grinned back. Our work wasn’t done, though. We went through the scene and different parts of it several times, so the camera could shoot us at different angles. When we were done, our actor "mom," the assistant director, praised us and had us go back to the makeup trailer with the makeup person. Karrie and I showered and changed back into our regular clothes. I had on my yellow shorts and halter top again, and Karrie had on blue shorts and a blue striped shirt. The makeup person made sure we had all the makeup off, then she did a manicure, filing and shaping our fingernails and toenails. She used a pretty shade of coral nail polish on me that still went okay with my hair.

The associate director came back with three little boxes, one each for Karrie and me, and one for Kim, as well.. "Since you two did such a good job, we wanted to give you a present!" We opened the boxes. Each contained beautiful silver earrings, with little pieces of turquoise dangling from them. We were both excited. They were the most grownup earrings either of us owned. I was so happy! Of course, later I realized that I wouldn’t be able to wear them after we got back from vacation. Well, maybe I’d keep them anyway, and sometimes when I was alone I could wear them. Then the lady asked Karrie to spell her name so they would get it right in the credits at the end of the video. "And what about you, Francie? Do you want to be Francie, or Frances Wilcox on the credit?"

I thought a minute. Somebody might make the connection between Francie and Frankie. Then I smiled. "Just call me Francesca, thank you. That will be my stage name." Mom was there and buried her hands in her face. Kim spluttered and rolled her eyes. Karrie giggled.

On the Road

It took two days to drive from that town in New Mexico to the Dallas area. What a long drive! Eastern New Mexico and Texas just goes on forever! When I rode shotgun, I finished my Harry Potter book. Then I rode in back with Karrie, while Kim rode in front. We played pioneer for the longest time. As we drove eastward through the treeless prairie, we played like we were the girls from the video, heading west. How many weeks would it have taken? We made up stories about the old west. I would write them down, and Karrie would draw pictures. One of the neat things about this trip is that Karrie and I are becoming better friends. I guess that I always treated like a pesky kid sister, which she was. But now that I was being her older sister, we liked each other better. It used to be Karrie and Kim did things together all the time, and I sort of stayed to myself. Now it was Karrie and me playing together a lot, and Kim doesn’t pay much attention to us. I don’t know if that makes Kim feel sad or not. Or maybe since she’s older, almost a teenager, it’s okay that she’s by herself more.

Remember how when the girls came up with the idea of me wearing their clothes, so we wouldn’t have to go home? Karrie was filled with giggles at the idea of me wearing her yellow sundress. And I was so embarrassed with the idea that I could have crawled under the seat! Well, on the second day of our drive to Dallas, I wore the sundress, and it didn’t bother me at all. Kim didn’t say anything about it, and Karrie just said that I looked nice in it. I have a yellow ribbon in my hair, too.

One thing made me feel really weird that day. We stopped at a rest stop because our soda pop had done its job. When we came out of the rest room, an older man just stared at us. His hair was thin on top, kind of gray and brown together, and thick and wavy on the sides, like he needed a haircut. He looked away when mom glanced over at him, but as we passed, I looked back. He was staring again. It wasn’t like he was trying to recognize us. He looked hungry at us girls. He made me feel afraid and creepy. He wasn’t scruffy or dirty or ragged, but the look in his eyes was so scary.

We got to the Dallas area in time to go swimming at the motel, and to make plans for the big day, the one all us kids had dreamed about for years—Paradise Park, the biggest theme park we had ever been to.

Paradise Park

Even though we got to the parking lot before opening time, we still had to park a long ways from the gate. A shuttle came and picked us up. I was wearing my checkered tennies, blue shorts, and white top. Funny, I remembered wearing that outfit one day when I played with Randy, back in Colorado. We had a great time, even though it was really hot! It was a long wait to ride the log ride, but it was worth it to get wet and cool. Kim and mom went on the big roller coaster, and I took Karrie on a smaller one, because she was afraid of the big one. I didn’t mind. I was a little afraid of it myself. We did a buddy system, and took turns. Sometimes Kim and I did stuff together, while mom and Karrie did their own thing. We always had times and places to meet, even if we had to get out line for a ride to do it.

After we ate lunch together, I went with mom while Kim took Karrie. I wanted to ride a big spinner, but mom wanted to keep her lunch down, so we went to see a show. It was kind of nice with some good singers and dancers, but I would rather be out doing things. We left the show and went back to the lagoon to meet Kim and Karrie. I brought a plastic leash and collar that made me look like I had an invisible dog.

Something was wrong! Kim came running up, crying, and Karrie wasn’t with her! "Mom! Karrie just disappeared. We were watching a juggler, and when I turned around, she wasn’t there. I looked all over, and called, and told a security guard. Oh, mom, what’ll we do? I’m so sorry! I didn’t want her to get lost."

I could tell that mom was scared, even though she tried to sound calm. She hugged Kim. "You did all you could, honey. Don’t blame yourself. She’s too old just to wander off by herself, though. Tell you what. I will wait here until 2:30. You two go out and start looking. Send a security guard back to talk with me, if you see one. Look as much as you can, but be back here by 2:30. Okay? And stay together!"

We took out together. There was a security guard with a cell phone, and we told her where to find mom. The guard said that all their staff was on the lookout. We kept looking, but no Karrie. Where could she have went? We checked bathrooms and looked at the crowds standing in line. We were near one of the exits, when I looked over about fifty feet and saw that man from the rest area. I recognized his hair. And he had a girl with him, on his far side. But I could see it was Karrie!

"There she is!" I shouted to Kim, and began sprinting through the crowd on an intercept course. I didn’t have any Harry Potter magic, just on old plastic dog leash. But if I could catch him, maybe I could do something.

I heard Kim calling for me to wait, but there was no time. I could shout, but if I did it too soon, he might see me and run and get away. I heard people talking about rude kids as I ran past them. His back was mostly toward me as I got near. Karrie got a glimpse of me. I could see fear in her eyes. He started to turn his head toward me just as I started to swing the dog leash in his direction. It clipped him in the eye.

"Dammit!" he shouted and raised both hands to his face. Karrie was free, and ran away from him. He started to run to another turnstile.

"Stop him!" I shouted.

Then about three security guards appeared and grabbed him. Karrie hugged me and sobbed. "I just stepped back, and he grabbed me, Francie. He said that if I made any noise, he would hurt me and then he would come back and hurt you and Kim. I didn’t know what to do!" We just stood there and hugged. The security guards had us follow them to their office, and promised that mom would meet us there. At the office, the police met us. They told us that the man tried to say that Karrie had been lost, and he was trying to help her find her mother. We told them about seeing the man at the rest area, and how he had stared. They asked if we could swear to that in court. It meant that what he tried to do was something he planned, not just an impulse thing.

We were all very frightened, and very happy that Karrie was safe. "You saved me, Francie!" she kept saying. Sometimes I would think of all those kids whose pictures you see on milk cartons and I would shake and shiver.

After the police took the man away, we sat in an office and shook a lot. I don't understand why he was trying to take Karrie, but I'm sure he had something mean and terrible in mind. Maybe we would have never seen her again. Some of the police talked with us some more, and they asked us to come down to their station, so we could make some statements. How does "I'm really scared" sound as a statement? It's true.

Everybody kept making a big thing over what I did to help Karrie. I only did what I had to do. I couldn't let him carry her off. If he hadn't let loose, I'm not sure what I would have done next. I could have tried to tackle him, but he was so much bigger than me that he probably would have just kicked me away.

A man from the theme park came to talk with us. He had on a suit and tie, so he must have been important. He was very nice, and kept telling us how sorry he was. He asked if we were planning to come back tomorrow.

"We're pretty shook up," mom said. "We did have two-day passes, but I think we need to do something quieter tomorrow. Would it be possible to get our money back for tomorrow?" The man not only gave us money back for tomorrow's passes, but gave us today's money back as well, and a certificate we could use for a free two days, anytime we wanted. Mom said later that they were probably afraid we might sue them or something, but we all thought it was pretty nice anyway.

My Decision

That night, back at the motel, mom asked me to go out front and sit in a lawn chair with her, while Kim and Karrie showered. "Frank," she said. That was the first time she had called me Frank since the first night of our vacation. "I am so proud of you. It is so scary to think of what that evil man might have done to Karrie. You were brave and resourceful. You were very brave. Because of what you did, I’m going to give you a choice that you’re old enough to make. The girls won’t have to know about it. You know that we’re still tight on money, but the theme park man gave us a big refund. Tomorrow, if you choose, I will buy you enough boy clothes for the rest of the trip, get you a haircut, and you become Frank again, 5 or 6 days early."

"Wow, mom! That would be great," I said.

"Or we can use the money to get the electronic game series that you’ve all wanted."

"Will you think I’m weird or a sissy if I choose the electronic stuff?" I asked.

Mom just smiled, and said, "No, I’ll think you’re my very brave, smart, resourceful hero."

The next day, I told mom my decision as I put on my green sundress and sandals. Karrie was wearing green too, so we cleaned off the old coral polish and did our nails with the green polish that my aunt had given me. No, we didn't need to go shopping for my pants and tee shirts. I could stay Francie for four or five more days, if it meant that we could get the game set.

Later in the morning, we did go to the police station, and we all told our stories of what happened. They told us that the man had a record of molesting children, and they were sure that he would go away to prison for a long time. Mom asked if we would have to come back to testify at his trial. The officer said it was a possibility, but they hoped that they wouldn't even need a trial.

We had lunch at a cool Mexican restaurant, then to a matinee movie. Later, we swam a lot at the hotel pool. Then the next morning we headed for North Padre Island. It took us almost all day to get there. Texas is a big state, I guess.

On the long trip to Padre Island, we were all talking. Karrie was saying how nice it was to have me play with her more. Then Kim surprised me. She said, "Have you noticed something? Francie hasn't been forgetful anymore on this trip."

Mom glanced over and smiled. "That's right. She hasn't. Why do you think that's so?"

Karrie wondered. "Because she's scared that if she forgets something, she'll have to stay Francie longer?"

Mom smiled, and said, "I don't think so. She knows that this was just for the duration of our trip."

Karrie said, "That's too bad. I really like her as Francie."

Mom said, "Well, I really like that brave young person as Francie, too, and as Frank, also. Do you know why, Francie?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so. Since I have to act like a girl, I guess I have to pay more attention, just to stay out of trouble, I guess."

Mom nodded. "That could be. But I've noticed something else. When you were being the only boy in the family, I think you felt left out a lot. So you daydreamed, and imagined, and didn't pay as much attention to me or your sisters, and then you forgot things. You were off in your own world. Now, you three are playing together and talking together more. So maybe you're not feeling as left out." I guess mom might be right. "So maybe," she said, "We will all have to work harder at being a family, okay?"

"Can Frank be Francie sometimes after we get back?" Karrie asked.

"Only if Frank wants to," mom said.

"Well, I dunno. Maybe." I mumbled. Kim said I blushed, and that I smiled a little. I guess it wouldn’t hurt me to play with Karrie more, and even to put a dress on if it were part of our game. As long as none of the guys ever saw us, anyway.

At the Beach

We're staying at a timeshare place, a nice condo, on the sand dunes. We can see the Gulf of Mexico when we look out the windows. Mom got a good deal renting it from her dean, who owns it but is going overseas this summer. We had a great time at the beach yesterday. I got embarrassed, though, when Kim tried to introduce me to a boy, so I could have another boy friend. Oh, please. She was just tired of me being a hero, and wanted something to tease me about. At least that's what I think. She did tell Nick how I beat up the bad guy, though. So I guess she is still proud of me.

A storm came in last night, and the wind was too strong and the water was too rough to go out this morning. So I've been sitting here at mom's laptop, finishing this story, while my sisters watch cartoons. Tomorrow we'll start back home. Mom said that tomorrow night she would cut the curls out of my hair, and the next day I could wear my boy clothes from the first day of our trip. Then I could get the Caesar cut.

But now it's time to change out of this jumper and into my one-piece girl's swimsuit with the ruffled skirt around it. The sun's out, and we all want to go out and play on the beach and in the water. We're a family. We like to do things together. Now I’m closing this file and heading out the door! Bye!

The end

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