I Am Not Alone - - Copyright 1999 by Ellen Hayes or Samantha Michelle

This is a short piece of fan fiction I wrote based on Ellen Hayes wonderful (incredible?) Tuck series. Like Ellen's works, it is unfinished (koff... koff....
This is still a "work in progress" which means there may be changes if I post a newer or more complete version.
This is also my first attempt at TG fiction, so all constructive comments are welcome.

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

 

I Am Not Alone        by: Samantha Michelle           Tucker Fanfic

 

0230 24 August
I stared at the computer through bleary eyes, absent-mindedly rubbing my ever-more-sensitive nipples. It had been a long summer, and I knew I needed to finish researching my condition, or at least what the doctor said was changing me. I glanced at the clock. I still had a little time before I needed to sleep.

Logging onto the net, I started a universal search for references, and shortly had the expected listing of medical stuff that was already old news. There were even several mass-market articles. What finally caught my eye was a pointer to a thesis on my, and several apparently similar, conditions. I told Barsoom to find and download the thesis. Wobbling towards my bed, I was asleep before I hit the mattress.

0200 25 Aug. 
I lay awake sweating, wondering if there was a cure for nightmares. Remembering last night's research, I dragged himself over to Barsoom and pulled up the results. One sentence from the abstract wrenched my attention to the screen.

"This research focused primarily on the hereditary, genetic predisposition to the development of intersexual traits throughout the lineage of selected families of British or Northern European decent."

"Hereditary", I muttered, momentarily slipping into Valerie's voice. I shook my head. It was getting harder and harder to remember who, or what, I was. And I knew one slip could get me killed. I shuddered, but continued to read.

0345 25 Aug 
Pulling on some clothing I headed for the refrigerator and some caffeine, sealing the cave as I left. The researcher had described my problem almost exactly; it was one of several in their study. And if the research was accurate, it meant that the changes would progress until I looked like a copy of my sister, and both mom and dad have to carry the gene that causes my condition.

The last part just didn't make sense. I had never heard of any relatives with a similar problem. I was pretty sure mom and dad would have mentioned them once they knew I was changing. I felt the sugar and caffeine began to kick in, and became aware that there was someone else awake. Shortly thereafter Susan dragged herself into the kitchen and reached an unsteady hand towards my coke.

"Have a good date last night" I quipped, noting with a twinge the increasing resemblance between us. Susan shook her head to clear the cobwebs and tried to give me the evil eye, but quickly closed her eyes against the light.

"Men, especially college age lotharios, are Pigs" she said in a disgusted voice. "Two drinks and he had more hands than a bridge tournament. I've got to find some jerk repellent." Thinking of my experiences as Valerie, I mumbled in agreement. Susan continued "So what are you doing up, or are you getting ready for bed?"

"Couldn't sleep. Nightmares." I replied, and she nodded. "And thinking about what is wrong with me." Susan warily eyed me, as I continued "I found something yesterday that says my condition is probably hereditary." Susan gave me a blank look, which quickly changed to one of alarm..

"What's wrong, are you afraid I'm contagious?"

Susan closed her eyes and shook her head. "Where did you come up with that piece of wisdom?" she muttered.

I explained what I had found in the net, and in the research paper. Susan said nothing for a while. Suddenly she seemed to wake up, muttering something about it has to be a coincidence. That got my immediate attention.

"Do you know of anyone else in the family with the same problem as me?"

She again shook her head, but I could see she was not telling me everything.

And that made me angry. So I pressed her harder for what she knew. "When you found me at the University you promised me that you would help me in any way you could." I said in an accusatory voice. "What are you afraid to tell me...?"

"Something I ran across years ago that did not make sense. But I did not know about your problem, or the hereditary thing." She gave me a funny look. "Were there any mentions of women with, um, er, similar problems?"

I stared at her. "In some families there were both women and men who, well, changed. So what's the connection with our family?" I asked, eyeing her.

"There is nothing I can put a finger on, but you remember when I did that genealogy project for my social studies class back in high school?" I nodded, as I had crashed her computer twice before she caught on. Dad had to pry her off me before she choked me to death. I was grounded for quite a while.

"I had a hard time explaining the number of adolescents that either died without a listed cause, or that disappeared without a trace from the records in both Mom and Dad's families. The teacher accused me of not researching far enough, and I had to bring in copies of my references to prove that there was no more information available."

I suddenly felt queasy. "Died without a listed cause?"

Susan gave me a hard look . "Back then, if someone committed suicide it was never advertised." She looked at me with what seemed to be sympathy "And most of those that disappeared did so around your age. Mostly young men, but there were a few girls too....."

"Do you think....." I added "that they....." and grabbed the table as the world suddenly seemed to be a bit too animated. Susan nodded. "I don't know if they ran away to find a different life, or..., or...." She stopped. "Or killed themselves." I added in a hard voice. She nodded, looking away.

Susan came over and gave me great big hug, tears pouring down. "Just don't let it happen to you, little brother", she finally added. Then I lost it, and we just stood there in each other's arms for a long time. Several Kleenex later we called it a morning and headed back to our bedrooms.

Mike and I were hightailing it out of town, dodging bullets as we tried to outrun Preacher Nicholson and deputy McPhearson. Nicholson was ranting that two guys trying to get married in his church was blasphemy. I guess cleaning out the collection plates before we left had not helped. Mike was firing an occasional shot in their direction, but all I could do was ride sidesaddle, my corset and long skirt keeping me from mounting properly. I could not even reach the .44 derringer still in my garters. Mike yelled "got one", and as I raised up to look behind me I felt a pain in my side and the breath was jerked from my body.... Consciousness dawned, and I realized that someone was beating on my door. "unhhh, what " I managed. It was Brian, who kept banging on the door and telling me that Debbie was waiting downstairs. Shaking myself awake, I told him to say I would be down after a quick shower, and dragged my soggy body out of bed.

0900 25 August 
We drove off in Debbie's car, headed for a quiet spot in a park where we could be alone. Despite Debbie's objections I reached over and turned off her cell phone and my pager. "I need to talk to you without interruptions," I said quietly, and when she saw my face she gave me her concerned, motherly look and quit arguing. For the moment anyway.

By the time we parked I realized that my baggy pants and shirt were already much too warm, and the day was going to be a scorcher. Peeling off my shirt to cool down, Debbie glanced at my large, swollen nipples, shook her head, and said I would get arrested for indecent exposure. I looked down, shrugged, and unwisely asked if she had a better idea. Five minutes later I was Valerie again, wearing a pair of Debbie's nylon exercise shorts and a thin silk top tied just below my breasts. The smooth feel of the silk made my nipples stand out even further, and I knew I looked like any other horny teenage girl on a date. Except I was out with my girlfriend.

Realizing I had again referred to myself as a girl, I grabbed Debbie and hugged her until the shaking passed. It was quite a while before I felt like talking.

We spent the morning talking, snuggling, and keeping each other quiet company. I cried a lot when I told her that the research said my body would probably change completely to that of a girl, with a couple of exceptions, within a few more years. Her constant assurances that she would love me no matter what I changed into did not help much. I had the nagging feeling that she liked me more as Valerie.

1300 25 August 
Debbie looked at her watch, shook her head, and told me she had a makeover scheduled at 2:30. I nodded, but did not want to let go. Finally, she pried me free. We loaded the blanket and cooler back into her Subaru, and when we were ready to leave she asked me what I was going to do. I shrugged. "I want to find out what happened to some of my ancestors. Maybe there is something they discovered. But I am NOT going to tell my counselor about this". I paused and thought for a moment. "Or my parents, at least not yet."

Debbie drove me home in silence, my hands holding tightly onto one of hers.

I almost hopped out of the car dressed as Valerie. Debbie caught the back of the top as I opened the door, and hauled me back in. The silk was yanked tightly across my nipples and hurt like a SOB. I whimpered as we drove to a quiet place where I pulled my shirt and pants over Debbie's clothes. After Debbie was satisfied that all signs of Valerie were hidden, she drove me back home.

Heading up to the cave, Mom stopped me, and gave be a strange look. A knot formed in my stomach. "Mom? Is there something wrong?" I asked in the most innocent tone I could manage.

She looked at me again, saying "I would swear that Debbie stopped by here a few minutes ago, with a girl in her car that looked like Susan, and then drove off in a hurry."

"Not a chance, Mom. We just came back from the park, and it was only the two of us." I made a beeline for the cave.

After stashing Debbie's clothes I checked for messages, and found Mike had tried to contact me about a back-to-school party. Still thinking about my talk with Debbie, I decided that holding a one-girl pity party was not going to make anything better. So I booted Barsoom for some added research.

DAMN IT, I cried to myself. I did it again. I am not a girl. The little voice in the back of my head was muttering "not yet". I felt like road-kill. And decided to anesthetize the little bastard in my head with another Valium.

After a few minutes I felt better. Or at least I did not feel as much. Better living through chemistry, I guessed.

It took until dinner to formulate a decent search, using Susan's old data, and information from the thesis. I even added a re-director to keep track of the search paths as information was retrieved.

Dinner was uneventful, although Brian was in a great hurry to go somewhere. So I took as long as possible to work on the dishes, and he finally begged me to finish them for him. I quickly added two IOU's from him to my bargaining pile, and he rushed off, probably to meet his girlfriend. Or steal some more panties. Probably both. Once everything was cleaned up, I headed to the cave to see what Barsoom had discovered.

The results were meager, but significant. There were three more branches of Dad's family that had eluded Susan, and one additional branch of Mom's. Parsing the information into a genealogy program that I found, I began to look for clues. Lots of enticing leads, but nothing I could get anything from. I was glad that I had studied statistics as a part of pre- calculus. After more analysis, the results began to make sense.

0200 26 Aug 
I decided to call it a night. I was afraid to trust my own data, yet I was certain I was right. I was too tired to think straight, but I was fairly certain that something happened to about one in every 40 male and one in 100 female offspring on Dad's side, and to about one in 60 male and female offspring on Mom's. I thought of Amy, and shuddered. But she was showing no signs of problems. Yet.

There were only three occurrences I could find where it was clear the two family trees crossed. And in each these cases there was at least one suspicious death or disappearance. Of a total of ten listed offspring, two boys and two girls had died or disappeared in their teens. And I was still here.

The couples were Mom and Dad, a long-deceased great-great-great-grand- something not in our branch, and another couple currently living on the East Coast with three listed children, the oldest my age. They were direct descendants from the same branches as my parents, back almost five generations.

I thought about the possibilities, and took another Valium. Life without REM sleep was much easier.

Something in my eyes bothered Susan at breakfast the next morning. She cornered me after Mom and Dad left, and told me to spill what I had found. After making sure that there were no incriminating clothes visible, I let her into the cave, and brought up my results on Barsoom.

Susan was lost in thought for a long time. She looked at me, and in an uncharacteristically scared voice, asked "Does this mean that if I have children they may, umnh, have the same problem you do?"

I nodded. "There is about a three percent chance, based on what I have found. Unless you marry someone who is descended from either lineage, then the probability increases to nearly fifty percent. The same applies to Brian." I added. "I do not know what happened to the female children. There is exactly no information available to indicate if they died, turned male, or whatever."

She looked miserable, and I realized that this had hit her really hard. I guessed that it was something about having children, a topic I did not remember her ever discussing.

Susan thought for a while. Finally she spoke up. "You know we will have to tell Mom and Dad about this, because it may affect Brian as he gets older, and Brian must know before he considers getting married." She shook her head. "And we both know Mom and Dad will blame themselves, and I don't know how they will handle it."

I reached over and held her. "We don't have to tell them immediately, and by the time you have children old enough to be affected, they may have a cure". She looked at me like I had said something wrong, and burst into tears. When the sobbing subsided, Susan said she needed to go think by herself, and let herself out of the cave.

I called Mike and asked him to come over. We sat and played Mortal Kombat as I brought him up to speed on my newest findings.

Mike looked at the wall, and meditated for a while. I could feel the tension where I sat. "Tuck, you have to contact the family out east and let them know what is happening." I looked at him like he was nuts. "It stands to reason that they will have at least one kid with a similar problem. And that someone might die if you do not let them know what is happening."

Mike began another of his "greater wisdom" mumblings, and continued. "Maybe it is something I got from my father, curse his over-preaching heart, but it wouldn't be fair to put someone else through this. If it had not been for Debbie's kink about dressing you as Valerie all the time, and the rest of us keeping you afloat, would you have been able to handle it?. Especially if you were a jock instead of a geek?" I winced, knowing exactly what would have happened.

"So I should just call them up, introduce myself as Tucker, their distant relative that is undergoing a hereditary sex change, and expect them to do anything but call the FBI?" Mike looked at me.

"Something like that, but a bit more subtle. Like seeing if any of the kids are on the net, and maybe getting to know them via on-line chat or E-mail. At least until you have a better idea, or you find out there is a cure. But you gotta do something before someone gets hurt or killed."

"Damn you, Mike, why must I help someone else when I can't even help myself." I ranted, "It's not fair".

"So who said it had to be fair?" As he knocked my player across the arena.

I hated it when he was right.

It took only a few minutes to find out that not only were the kids on the web, but the oldest, Andrea, a girl my age, was apparently into computers. And she was good looking too, in a butch sort of way. She had her own web page, complete with pointers to many of the same sites I frequented. The other two, her 14 year-old brother, and 12 year-old sister had web pages, but their sites were really bland. Andrea's animation of a Xena-the-Warrior-type beheading Barbie dolls was cool. I copied it for Debbie's computer.

I sent her an E-mail saying I had found she was a relative of mine, signed off, and Mike and I moved on to other topics, like what really evil things we could come up with to start out the school year.

After Mike headed home for dinner, I decided that I had better get some chores done, and headed downstairs. Dinner was uneventful, and I was grateful for the quiet. After I finished the last of the dishes, I headed for the cave. A quick check showed I had a reply.

"S'cool that I have a relative that likes computers. Dad just installed an 800# line for his business, and I have access to it after hours. Give me a call before 20:00 eastern. Andi."

The number followed, so I decided to give it a try, being a little before ten eastern time.

"Hello? A small female voice answered. "This is Becky, can I help you?"

"I'm trying to reach Andrea, Is she home?"

"Sure, just a minute". In the background I heard her yell "Andi, its some girl for you". A moment later she came back on and said that Andi would be on in a minute.

"Hello, this is Andi, can I help you?" a surprisingly deep voice came on line.

"This is Tuck, I received your message, and since it was still early, tried your number." I replied in what I hoped was a friendly voice. Unfortunately it was also Valerie's voice.

"So you're a geekette too" was her chuckling reply, in a higher pitched voice. "I never figured that the first relative who was into computers would be another girl, 'specially one with a name like "Tuck"." I groaned.

Deciding that it would be better if I replied as Tucker, I consciously lowered my voice, and responded." Actually, Tuck is short for Tucker. A lot of people mistake my voice for a girls" switching to my English accent "but I am a man of many voices." I could hear her breaking up on the other end.

"Blimy, ya sound like a lass I know out 'o Liverpool." She replied in a hearty tenor, and started laughing again. Soon we were chatting (in more normal voices) about computers and impractical jokes as if we were close friends.

 

Chapter 2

I was interrupted by a pounding on my door. Susan's voice was easy to understand. "Mom and Dad want to talk to all of us, like NOW, so get downstairs." So much for a peaceful telephone conversation.

"Looks like the parental units have decided on another "family meeting", so I've got to get off the phone for now."

"Don't be a total stranger, I really liked finding a fellow geek that is also a relative of mine. So give me a call tomorrow or later in the week. It doesn't cost you anything."

"Sounds good. Bye" as I flipped off the switch. Dragging on some presentable grunge, I headed downstairs. Everyone, including Brian and Susan were sitting around the dining table. It looked like one of those "as your parents, we have decided" sermons. I cringed as I sat down between Susan and Brian.

"As your parents, we have decided that it has been too long since we have spent some quality time together." My stomach churned. The last time they had tried for some "quality time" Susan had threatened to run away, and I almost died of boredom. Brian was the only one who enjoyed the whole affair, probably because he was too young, or too dumb, to comprehend how stupid the idea was.

Dad continued. "So when one of my clients offered me free use of their time-share condo in Wilmington for ten days over the labor-day weekend, your mother and I decided that it was time to take a vacation together." I glanced at Susan and her blank expression told me a lot.

"Wilmington? Where's Wilmington?" Brian blurted out.

"In Delaware, right near the District of Columbia" was Mom's reply.

"But Debbie, Mike and I have already made plans-" We had, just not any plans that we could tell our parents about, "-for the little summer left before we start school" I protested.

"Sound like fun!" interjected Brian. I wanted to strangle him.

"Uhm, my school starts just after labor day, so I guess I won't be able to come along." Susan was trying, hard, to sound disappointed.

"Already have that covered," was Dad's reply "We will fly you back in time for you to drive to the University and still have a day to settle in before classes start." Susan slumped into her chair. "And Eugene, you will have the whole school year to be with your friends." It was looking darker by the Moment.

"We've even arranged tours of some historical sites, and a trip to Washington to see the capital and congress," Mom piped in. I wondered if I had an FBI record that would keep me from having to participate. And then it struck me. "Arranged" meant that we were going. Shit.

"So we are leaving tomorrow night for the airport, and I want everyone packed and ready to go no later than noon." Dad was always too organized. He looked at me. "Eugene, we are going to a civilized part of our nation, so you have to dress properly. Your mother says that you have been gaining weight, so we have agreed to buy you some casual slacks and shirts for the trip. Susan will take you shopping early tomorrow morning." Great. Yuppieville on no-doze, here I come.

"So everyone get a good night's sleep, and look forward to some time together as a family." I wondered if Dad had been spending too much time near his monitor, and it had fried his brain.

"Damn damn damn...SHIT damn damn damn," Susan muttered to herself as we headed upstairs. I concurred wholeheartedly.

A quick call to Mike and Dan left me with little more than condolences. And the knowledge that I would not be the leader in preparing a welcome-back prank for the new school year. Damn damn damn...... Susan was right. SHIT damn damn.

Debbie and I were enjoying a warm, private evening when I heard her mother shouting "This is the police, open up or we'll break down the door." My heart pounded as I tried to grab some clothes to dive out the window, but the only thing I could find was a silk peignoir as the door was knocked from its hinges.... The pounding at my door and "Eugene, we need to leave in half and hour", broke into my unconsciousness. ARRGGH!!!!

I managed a shower and some clean underwear before dressing and staggering to the refrigerator for some caffeine. "Drink that on the way, Eugene, you have shopping to do over at Westcross Mall". I muttered acknowledgment, spying Brian finishing off something that looked like food. "You have to take Brian along to get some new shoes, so lets hurry."

"Do we have to?" I whined. "EUGENE!" Was the Mom's comment. I thought I heard Brian snicker. I'll kill him if I ever wake up, I decided.

Susan muttered dire things about the upcoming trip as we headed across town. I tried to fall back asleep, but Brian would jab me just as I dozed off, and then plead with Susan to keep me from slugging him. Torturing a caffeine-deprived person should be against the Geneva convention. So should younger brothers.

We managed to find a parking place and some food at a local McStarches. I was beginning to wake up. As we headed through the mall Susan pushed me into the local GAP outlet. Yuppie personified. We headed for the "young men's" section.

"Tuck, what size do you wear?" Susan asked as the salesman approached.

"A ten ngghh.." I choked it off. Susan gave me a funny look "Er, I'm not sure" I finally managed. So I wound up having to be measured by some reject from a hair-grease factory. I think I tried on at least a dozen pairs of pants. It was absolutely no fun, as I had spent way too much time trying on clothes while out with Debbie and the pack, and besides, the scenery in the men's section was awful.

We finally found that there was nothing, at least at this store, designed to fit a guy with a narrow waist and wide hips. I thought I was going to get away safely, but when he suggested that we try the women's section (he was obviously annoyed that we were not going to earn him any commissions), Brian broke out in laughter. Susan silenced him, and gave me a sympathetic look. I simply shrugged. It was just another boulder in my already rocky life.

Susan quickly ushered us out of the store, and asked me if I was going to be all right. "I'll be okay, but let's just go home." was my reply.

She looked at me and shook her head. "We still have to find you some appropriate clothes, or Mom will strangle me." I started to argue that baggies and fatigues were appropriate, but she dragged me to the mall directory, and then off towards a new wing they had finished sometime during the summer. We quickly approached a store having a "getting into business" sale. "Banana Republic" was the sign. I wondered if it was an omen. She told Brian to wait on a bench. I hoped he would sit on some gum.

Once inside, Susan headed me towards the nearest rack of trousers, and found me a pair of dressy looking khaki pants that were cut almost like combat fatigues. She seemed intrigued by some of the women's wear, and told me to try the pants on while she did some looking for herself. A quick trip to the dressing room confirmed that they fit me in the hips, but the waist was still way to big, even after tightening the draw-tabs. When I went to the mirror to check them out, the sales lady looked at them, and at me, and told me she had another style that might fit better. She quickly returned with an almost identical pair. When I tried them on they fit perfectly. I had a sinking feeling, and checked the size. Misses 10. Shit. But they didn't look that much like girls pants. Hmm...

Susan asked me to show her what they looked like, so I swallowed and inched out. When she nodded her approval I knew I was sunk. "Perhaps your sister would like to try on one of the matching shirts or jackets" was the next thing the sales lady said. Susan's eyes snapped wide open, and she started to say something, then clamped down so hard I think she chipped a tooth when I signed at her not to make a scene. I asked the sales lady to excuse us for a moment and, giving Susan a hug, said, "Don't worry about it. I'm used to it".

I figured the best thing I could do was to get what I needed and get out of there before something else happened. So I found another pair in "my" size, a pair of shorts, and-heeding Mom's requirement for clothes-found several matching Egyptian cotton tank tops, three safari shirts, and a dressy "outback" jacket that I figured was formal enough for anywhere I would be willing to go. When I checked myself in the mirror, the clothes did not make me look like a girl. But they did not make me look like a guy, either. My long hair gave me a sort of androgynous "Indiana Jones" look. I spied an Aussie hat, and after trying it, kept it on. I think Debbie had affected my brain. Susan asked if I had shoes to match, and I shook my head. Bad move.

The sales lady, with a look that spelled "commissions" almost dragged me into the women's shoe section. As I started to protest, Susan gave me that "Do you want to explain it" look. I shook my head and slumped into a chair. The first were a pair of unisex Doc Martin oxfords with a low heel that were light and sturdy. She brought over several pairs of matching cotton knee-high socks. They went with my other purchases and felt wonderful on my feet. The second pair of footwear caused Susan to gasp. They looked like a pair of Desert Storm combat boots, with thick traction soles and a three-plus inch heel. Before Susan could object I put them on and laced them up. A quick trip to the mirror told me what I already knew. I pulled off the safari shirt and studied myself. Nothing androgynous now, my small breasts and erect nipples stood out clearly against the thin fabric. Susan looked pale. I looked really good, for a teenage girl. Debbie would be proud. Even if I wasn't wearing a skirt. I was so tired of not being something, even being a girl was better than being stuck in between. What was I saying? My head started to hurt.

I realized that having some "Valerie" clothing could be useful. So a quick trip to the clothing section netted me a really short wrap skirt in Egyptian cotton, and an ankle-length soft khaki A-line that I figured could look almost formal. Still wearing the skirt, I headed back to Susan with a pleading look in my eyes. "I really could use these if Valerie needs to show up." Susan started to mumble to herself. "Besides, I bet I can get a discount-" using my best Debbie imitation, "-if I buy all this at once." The sales lady was nodding.

"Mom's gonna kill me." was all I could understand from Susan.

"I take it that means I can get it all?" Susan was still mumbling to herself, but handed the lady Dad's credit card.

"Tuck, are you sure you know what you're doing? I know how hard this has been for you." If she only knew how many women's clothes I had worn I doubt she would have worried at all.

"It's okay, really. They mostly don't look like girls stuff and they really are comfortable." They were. We almost left the store with me dressed in a skirt. Susan grabbed me and frog-walked me back the dressing room where I hastily changed into my original clothes. After brushing my hair back into a "boy" style, we grabbed Brian off the bench. At a discount place we stopped for a couple of minutes to get him some new socks and shoes. His feet were bigger than mine. I teased him about being a hobbit. It went right over his head.

We headed home and I was careful to remove all the tags before packing. I hid the skirts and boots in the bottom of my luggage. Remembering that Valerie was coming along for the ride, I added hose, underwear, jewelry, and makeup to my collection. I dug through some of the pack's castoffs they had stuck me with, and found a latigo leather shoulder-bag and clutch that would match. By mid-afternoon we were all packed and ready to go. I had included in my suitcase as much of a tool kit as I figured I could get through security. My carry-on had the laptop and a second set of emergency supplies. It also had several Valium hidden along with my regular medications. I took one just before we boarded the airplane.

The trip was uneventful, at least for me. I slept all the way there. Susan managed to wake me enough to help get our bags into a rental car, and I really woke up when Dad locked up the brakes avoiding a taxi. "Whatta fuck?" was the first thing out of my mouth.

"Eugene, watch your language!" was Mom's immediate reply. Dad emitted a string of expletives at another driver's antics, and Mom diverted her attention from me to him. I had thought the traffic in New York was bad. By the time we reached the condo, Dad was babbling about suicidal idiots, and Mom had plugged her ears. I, on the other hand, had forgotten to visit the washroom at the airport, and was in great danger of exploding.

We were dragging everything to the elevator, when Mom saw me bouncing up and down like a three-year-old. She made sure I was the first one inside when she unlocked the door. I hit the bathroom running and sat quickly to relieve myself. As I finished, I realized that I had sat to pee. I shrugged mentally. It was easier than remembering what I was wearing. When I came out, I found the place was huge, nearly as big as our house. Each of us kids got our own room, complete with a television. Dad had calmed down and reminded us that we were scheduled for a tour of the capital the next day, and to go to sleep early.

I was thrilled to find a telephone jack in the bedroom, and after everyone else had quieted down, went on-line and checked my e-mail. The usual sludge that my filter had missed, and notes from Dan and Mike and George wishing me well. Mike's comment about avoiding the DOD computers was interesting. I wondered how he knew I was considering a little late-night snooping. Mike also passed on Debbie's "I miss you..." message. I missed her. A lot.

The last message was from Andi. I had left a note for her that I would be out of town for several days, and said I was being dragged to Delaware for a "family vacation". Her reply was a real surprise.

"Delaware is not so bad. I live in Wilmington, so if you get out that way give me a call." It looked like the trip might get interesting after all. She had given me her local number, but it was way too late to call her. So I wrote the number down, and stuck it in my wallet. The clock said 0300. I dozed off clutching a pillow and dreaming of Debbie.

It was far too early for any human to be awake. At least I tried to convince myself of that as I slugged down a coke while Dad drove us to where we would catch the bus to the capital. There is one really serious problem when traveling in odd numbers. Someone gets the odd seat. Usually someone named Tuck. I wound up several rows behind everyone else, and was expecting the usual fat lady with bad breath. What I got was a little old grandmotherly lady carrying a huge picnic basket. She was also the last person on the bus.

"Miss, could you hold my basket while I get settled in?" She spoke quietly with a slight southern accent.

"Sure, let me help you" was my automatic reply. As Valerie At least the rest of the family was out of hearing range. I hoped. The basket was HEAVY. I wondered how she could carry it.

"I've taken this trip every year since my last husband passed away" she continued "and it's so nice to sit next to a young woman like yourself. I usually get paired up with some lecherous, dried up old fart, who wants to play pattycake in tune with his new pacemaker." Did I say grandmotherly? "My name is Annabelle Murray Throckton, but most call me Granniebelle." I was beginning to get nervous. "Don't be a shy young thing. What do people call you, and what brings you to Washington today?" Great, twenty questions.

"Um, my name is Valerie, but my friends call me Val." So far no lies, trying to keep it simple. "My Mom and Dad decided we needed a 'family' vacation, and since we wound up on the East Coast, they arranged for us to go visit the capital." I think I sounded as unenthusiastic as I felt. She looked at me intently. Way too intently.

"I take it you did not want to go?" I nodded. I felt like she could read me like a book. And I was wondering if she was reading between the lines. I started to get scared. "When you get to be my age you will learn to treasure the time you spent as a child with family and friends. You look a mite pale. Did you eat breakfast?" I shook my head. "Growing girls need to eat to stay healthy." And she started to dig into her basket. Why did everyone worry about my weight?

A Moment later my nostrils flared, as the wonderful odor of home-fried chicken wafted my way. "I always carry lots of food with me when I go. I got into the habit with my grandchildren, and just never seem to remember that I can't eat it all." Visions of someone poisoning pigeons in the park suddenly flashed through my eyes. But it smelled soooo... good... "Would you like a cold drumstick?" I listened to my stomach and nodded, even though a part of my brain was screaming, "run awaayy". She handed me a huge cloth napkin, and then the chicken. "Don't want you to get food on your new outfit". I cautiously took a bite.

Did you ever get that warm fuzzy feeling from eating something so good your taste-buds overrode you brain? "Mmmm..." was all I could manage, chewing slowly and savoring every morsel.

"I take it you approve?" was her chuckling comment.

"Womdeful," was all I could manage with my mouth full.

"I took first place in the state fair back in '47 with that recipe." She smiled. I believed her. It was the best fried chicken I had ever tasted. "Want something to drink" I nodded, and she produced a -cold- canned iced tea from the depths of the basket.

Pulling out a plastic trash bag from the basket, she collected my almost polished bone, and handed me a piece of apple pie covered in plastic wrap. By now I had decided if she was going to poison me it was one heck of a way to go, and I mutely began munching her latest offering. Yum.... Much too soon I was finished, and with the hot sun shining on our side of the bus, I quickly drifted off to sleep. Visions of Debbie and me dressed in antebellum gowns, dancing the night away at a ball occupied my mind for the remainder of the trip.

I awoke to my sister gently shaking me. Granniebelle was telling her what a wonderful young lady her sister was. Susan finally got the idea to call me Valerie, which hastened my return to consciousness. When Granniebelle had headed down the aisle, Susan whispered angrily: "What the hell are you doing, Tuck? Mom and Dad are right here on the bus!"

"I didn't do anything", was my belated reply. "She sat down and started chatting as though I was one of her granddaughters, and fed me this - wonderful- fried chicken, and a piece of apple pie, and we chatted and I fell asleep." I stretched, and slowly got up, noticing that I still had her napkin on my lap. "So lay off it, already. Granniebelle is just a nice old lady." I carefully folded the napkin and put in my pocket to return it to Granniebelle on the way back. And maybe get some more of that chicken.

"Granniebelle? Fried chicken?" Susan was muttering to herself as I collected my stuff and we got off the bus. Granniebelle was being led away by several distinguished looking people to a military staff car, and she waved to me as she got in. I noted the two stars on the bumper flag. Something told me to worry. But something had never eaten her fried chicken.

We spent the rest of the day strolling through the Avenue of the Americas and visiting the different monuments to our capitalistic success. Lunch was an overpriced and underwhelming sandwich from one of the many street vendors. I kept thinking of the fried chicken. Brian was so busy looking at everything he did not even bother to annoy me. Even Susan seemed to be enjoying herself. And the weather cooperated, once Mom had smeared all of us -including Dad- with sunblock. Hypoallergenic sunblock, at that.

It was going on four in the afternoon when we reached the wall. I had read about the Vietnam war memorial, and we had covered Vietnam in our history class. What I found was not what I expected. The pictures in the books showed grieving families wailing and placing wreaths, to a background of anti-war protests. But today it was more like ordinary people paying tribute to old friends. I wandered along by myself, watching and listening to people. Despite the warm sun I felt the chill of sadness.

I saw a familiar picnic basket, and watched as Granniebelle walked slowly up to a section of the wall. Something caused me to move closer, and I listened as she spoke as much to the wall as herself.

"Tony, it's Annabelle, I know you can hear me. It's been another year and I'm getting closer to joining you wherever you are. Tony, you know that I still miss your warm touch and silly smile. But I have never regretted your decision to fight for what you thought was right. Or for your making me promise that if you did not come back I was to go out and live my life to the fullest. I told you I could not go on without you, but you said that if that was to be, then it would hurt you to see me grieving my life away.

And when the chaplain came to our door that day, I knew the worst had happened. But something inside me said that I had to keep going. And you were right. Life was too precious to throw away. I know now that our friends and the kids kept me together. I even remarried, as if you didn't know, and until Jack died I enjoyed that part of life too. I bet you are still laughing, you horny old goat, about us getting arrested for indecent exposure at our ages in the back seat of his sports car. At least they did not bust us before we had finished.

The kids have done so well. Robert got another promotion. He now has two stars and a beautiful new office in the Pentagon. He met me and gave me a tour this morning. Annemarie is still single and living with her stockbroker girlfriend in Manhattan. They are planning to start a family soon and I have no idea who will be the father. I guess that they love each other very much, that's all that really matters. And I saved the best for last. Marybeth gave birth to a strapping young boy just a week ago, and both are doing fine. They named him Antonio after you. She and her husband moved to Dallas in May, when he was promoted to regional manager. Annemarie and Marybeth both fly in to visit me every couple of months, and I keep busy with my charity work.

Well, I guess that I've spent enough time talking again, you always said I would die with my mouth open. Remember my love, I'll be joining you when my time comes. But not before."

I stared in silence as she picked up her basket and walked silently away. I swear she was smiling. I found the nearest bench and curled myself into a ball as all the old fears and emotions came flooding back. When I started to cry the floodgates opened and the shaking began. I hated myself; all I had to complain about was cosmetic. I had friends and family that cared for me and loved me, regardless of what I looked like. I sat there for a long time with my eyes closed.

"Miss, are you all right?" The concerned male voice broke through the pall I was casting. "You've been sitting there for so long I thought you might be hurt." I opened my eyes and stared almost eye to eye at a bearded guy with a smiling, weathered face. I jumped back, and banged my head against the bench. "Easy now, I'm not a masher or anything like that." He backed up his wheelchair several feet and watched me with a concerned expression. ?Wheelchair?! entered my consciousness.

"Lance Corporal Michael Thomas at your service." he announced, smiling, sitting at attention. He was wearing faded fatigues and I was just able to make out "Thomas" on the nametag. "I was just saying my weekly hello to some old friends" he motioned at the wall" and I saw you sitting there and crying."

I felt even smaller, and tried to curl back into my shell.

"Hey, don't let me scare you. It's getting late and you really should not stay out here after dark."

A light bulb popped into my head. LATE! I mumbled to myself in panic, "Oh, no noooo..." as I glanced at my watch. The bus was due to leave in 30 minutes, and I did not even know how to get back to the bus stop. I knew my parents were already frantic and probably had the police out looking for me. "I've got to get back catch a bus with my parents..." I jumped up and looked around, but there was no clue as to where the bus stop was. "Is there a directory around here somewhere?"

"I don't remember seeing one, but maybe my partner, Vickie, knows." He took a deep breath and hollered "Vickie" A Moment later the biggest and one of the ugliest women I had ever seen came running up. A quick glance said "Hard Core Biker", between the tattoos and worn leathers.

"What do you need Mike?" She glanced at me, grinning. "Surely this cute little lady here is not giving you any trouble." The voice was anything but feminine. A light dawned, dimly.

"She seems to have gotten lost and needs to get back to the tour bus area really fast. What is the best route?" "Vickie" looked thoughtful.

"I hope she's not in a hurry. It's about two miles from here. Unless she has wings."

"Two miles?!" I sat back down with my head in my hands. "I'll never make it in time." I knew I was really in trouble now.

"Relax a minute." was all that Vickie said. I saw her trot off to the other side of the wall. A minute later several marines in full dress uniform appeared, followed by an oversize golf-cart like vehicle.

Mike grinned at me "The Marines to the rescue" he joked as they formed up in front of me. "The young lady here needs to get to the bus loading area to meet her family. Will you accept this mission?" Mike was almost ready to fall out of his wheelchair he was trying so hard not to laugh.

"The Marines never fail to complete their mission!" was the reply from the one who seemed to be their leader. A Moment later one of them picked me up like I was a little kid and seated me in their weird conveyance. Vickie handed me a business card that I stuffed in my pocket. Singing the Marine hymn, they hopped on board and we zoomed off. I wondered where I had good karma hidden away. Or if they were on furlough from a local hospital.

In less than twenty minutes we pulled up to the loading area, and I was formally deposited on my feet. "It's been our pleasure, ma'am," was all they said, as they drove off laughing. I saw Susan running towards me. I smiled and waived goodbye, then started toward her.

"Mom and Dad have been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?" were the angry first words out of her mouth. Then she saw the tear-streaks on my cheeks. "Tuck, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I guess I am." I looked at the parting marines. "But I never expected the Marines to come to my rescue." Her look was priceless. "Let's get back to the bus." We quickly walked over to where Mom and Dad were standing, staring at us both.

Mom started to say something, but Susan intercepted her. "Va... ur, Tuck will talk about it later, right?" Mom looked at me, and I nodded.

Dad wanted me to sit with them, but I pleaded that I needed privacy to think, and they finally agreed to let me sit where I was before. Brian's "Darn, I hoped you wouldn't make it back" got him hauled to the front. I hoped whatever they were planning for him was painful.

Just before the bus was due to leave, Granniebelle and her basket got on, and soon she was sitting next to me. I guess my expression said "I need space" so she quietly watched me as we pulled out into traffic. I thought life had been strange before. Now it was getting downright weird.

As we pulled out onto the beltway I guess the suspense got to her, and Granniebelle spoke up. "You must have had an interesting day, child," she began. "What in heaven's name did you do to get a Marine Honor Guard escort?" I gave her my best 'you don't want to know' look, but that did not deter her in the slightest.

Everything came flooding back at once. I drew myself into a tight little ball in the seat and started to sob. When she put her arm around me, the shakes started and it took quite a while before I was able to regain control. "There now, child, tell Granniebelle all about it. It doesn't help to keep everything bottled up inside." I don't know why, but I trusted her. And I really needed to let some of it out.

"I was, uh, at the Vietnam memorial when I saw you, and I, um, couldn't help but hear you talking to the wall, and, uh, well, what you said made me realize how pitiful my problems really are and..." I stammered and stuttered and started to shake again. "and I sat down and cried for a long time, and then this guy in a wheelchair asked if I needed help, and it was late and I was going to miss the bus and his friend found some marines and they gave me a ride back..." I looked at her with tear-filled eyes.

She looked like she was in pain. Which scared me because it was my own fault that I had listened to her at the wall, and I did not want my problems to cause anyone else trouble. So I closed my eyes and started to cry again. "Now, now, child, what could be so bad about the life of a pretty young lady like yourself that the ramblings of an old woman like me could make you so unhappy?"

I looked at her through my tears. And tried to say something, but it just wouldn't come out. I gestured at my body with my hands, and tried again to form a tight little ball. When I finally unfolded again, she was looking at me intently. "Are you pregnant, and afraid to tell your parents?" Was the first thing out of her mouth. I think my eyebrows hit suborbital velocity as my eyes snapped wide open.

"P. pu' pr. Pregnant?" came out like popcorn. And the absurdity of the situation finally got through my consciousness. And I started to laugh, and then could not stop, and I was getting way too much oxygen... Her look of surprise was priceless.

When I was able to speak, I was still giggling. "No, I'm definitely not pregnant, no possible way am I pregnant." I paused, and started laughing again.

I finally calmed down enough to regain some of my composure. "I'm sorry, Granniebelle, but the image of my being pregnant and my girlfriend having to explain how she knocked me up to her mother were just too hilarious for words..." and then it hit me. What was I saying? The sudden frightened look on my face must have worried her.

"Girlfriend?" She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not gay" came out of my mouth. And then I bit my tongue. Hard. Granniebelle was staring at me intently. "Uh-oh," said the little voice in the back of my head.

Granniebelle continued to look me over very carefully. I blushed crimson. She began "I may be getting old, and some people think I'm a bit batty, but you just contradicted yourself." I started to curl back up into a ball.

"Oh no you don't, sit right back up!" Granniebelle spoke sharply to me for the first time. I obeyed like a recruit. "I like a good mystery, so sit there quietly and let me think." I nodded, but visions of more marines -this time coming to haul me off for interrogation- began waging a terror campaign in my stomach. "Stomach ache?" Granniebelle spoke up. I nodded with a very scared look. She reached into her basket and pulled out another piece of pie. "You really should not eat that awful stuff they serve around the capital. It's worse than the politics." I took the pie and began nibbling it. It felt way too much like a last meal.

As I finished the pie I watched Granniebelle's face. She would nod, then shake her head, then get a quizzical expression, then repeat. I considered making a break for the front of the bus. But I was in the window seat, and the bus was on the expressway. Becoming roadkill would be quick, but unpleasant. Bad Idea.

Granniebelle suddenly looked me straight in the eyes "Have you been lying to me?" was her sharply intoned question. I shook my head, thought for a minute, and said "No." She looked thoughtful, and resumed her nod, shake and quiz thought pattern. A glimmer of hope popped up. Maybe she won't be able to figure it out, and I don't have to confirm or deny anything. I felt like a POW.

"How old are you? And no lies!" was her next comment.

"Sixteen," Nothing wrong with that question.

"Which means that you have a driver's license?" I nodded.

"Which you are carrying in a wallet in your hip pocket, rather than in a purse..." she let her comment trail off as she watched my expression deteriorate. I finally covered my face with my hands and began, again, to cry.

"Which means one of three things." She spoke softly to me, handing be a large wad of Kleenex. "Either you were lying about not being gay, you are a girl who dresses like a boy, or you are not a girl." I was shaking too hard to blow my nose. Visions of the Salem witch trials made a wide-screen Technicolor debut behind my eyelids. "And I just realized that you never told me you were a girl, and you never denied it because I never asked."

I started to panic, which triggered a really nasty coughing fit, and I quickly forgot about anything other than attempting to breathe. By the time I finally got it under control, Susan had gotten up and was back at my seat, and I could see Mom and Dad staring me with alarmed looks. "Tuck, are you going to be OK?" were the first words out of her mouth.

Then she looked at Granniebelle in horror as my seatmate repeated, "Tuck?" "Oh, shit shit shit, I'm sorry Tuck, er, Tuckerlie" followed as she realized that I was supposed to be Valerie, and she slapped her hand over her mouth, staring at me wild-eyed.

"Tu tu tu tuckerlie?" I stuttered quietly as I looked at the expressions of Susan's and Granniebelle's faces. Then the absurdity of the whole situation crashed my emotional CPU, and I started to laugh and cough at the same time. I almost choked before they both managed to get me to sit still and control my breathing.

"Young lady, your -sister-" Granniebelle "should be fine now. I think she just needs to sit quietly for a little while." Susan looked at me to see if I needed help, but the laughter, and lack of air had taken the panic out, and I nodded shakily.

"I'll tell Mom and Dad you inhaled a bug or something, and that you'll be okay" Susan replied, watching my face.

"Please, don't tell Mom and Dad what they don't want to know." was my parting comment-backed by a pleading look. Susan nodded and, shaking her head, went back to her seat. I saw Granniebelle rummaging through her basket, and I was soon sipping slowly on another cold iced tea. Life had gone from complicated to chaotic at warp seven. 'Beam me up, Scottie' I thought furiously, and started to giggle.

"Feeling better?" I looked at Granniebelle and nodded. I knew it was truth or consequences time, and I had the feeling that I did not want the booby prize.

"I take it your actual name is Tuck, which is probably short for Tucker"

I shook my head. "My friends call me Tuck, but my real name is Eugene, which I hate". She nodded.

"Should I call you Tuck or Valerie?"

I looked at my lap. "I guess Valerie, since that's how you know me." I paused. "But if my parents are nearby, calling me Tuck will save me a lot of embarrassing questions."

"They don't know you want to be a girl?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to be a girl, I just can't stop it." Her expression told me to continue before she asked more questions. My watch told me I had way too much time before we got back to Wilmington.

"So I found myself fitting in, you know, and when I didn't kill myself-" I paused, "-like you didn't when your husband died in Vietnam. After I found out that I have a medical problem that is giving me a girl's figure-" I gestured a stylized hourglass, "-it just got easier and easier...." "And since my girlfriend really likes me as Valerie..." Her eyes got really wide as I described Debbie's Mom, and she started to giggle like a teenager.

I pulled a comb out of my pocket and worked my hair forward. "Instant Valerie." I combed it back and to the sides. "Presto, Tuck returns."

"And your parents have not figured it out?"

"I think they don't want to think about it, so they overlook things that would give me away." I looked at my hands. "Besides, if I keep growing the way I have been-" I pointed to my chest and hips "-I probably won't have any choice in a year or two." I looked away. I had been denying this for too long. Life was unfair. I started to sniffle again. Granniebelle hugged me and I sat quietly trembling until the feeling passed.

We were pulling into the bus parking area when Granniebelle spoke up. "Valerie, or Tuck, your 'secret' is safe with me. Lord knows you have enough on your mind without worrying about some gossipy old lady." She looked thoughtful. Reaching into her basket (again) she pulled out a purse, then a notepad, and finally a pen. She scribbled briefly on the notepad, and pulled a business card out of her purse. "Give me a call if you can get free for a few hours. I want to give you something, but I'll need your help for a little while." She put the card and note in my hand. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation."

Vacation? I felt more like an heretic invited to the inquisition. I wondered if this was divine retribution for our April Fool's prank. Nah, not a chance. Nickerson had to be working for the other side.

Susan sat between Brian and me on the way home. I snuggled up against her as soon as we were underway, and quickly fell asleep. Stress is like that. Susan woke me and helped me get into the condo, and pulled my shoes off before tucking me into my bed. I think I was awake for a few more seconds.

I awoke to Mom holding a piece of sushi under my nose and rubbing my forehead. "Mmmhh... dinner?" Mom nodded, and quietly left the room. I remembered to comb my hair back, and staggered to the table. One California roll and a bit of wasabi later I was fully awake and chowing down. Wherever Dad had managed to find Japanese delivery, it was really good.

"So what happened to make you almost miss the bus, and cause your mother and me to lose another year off our lives in worry?" I almost inhaled a rice ball when Dad spoke up. After choking for a minute until a blow on my back from Susan dislodged the offending lump, I closed my eyes and thought.

I realized the answer was easy. "Remember, we were together until we reached the Vietnam war memorial?" Dad nodded. "Well I sat quietly and watched the people there, and I overheard several people, and, well, the emotions got to me and I, well got kinda overloaded..." I looked at Susan who was nodding. "So I sat there and cried, and these marines found me and asked if I needed help, and they gave me a ride back to the bus area." No lies, not even stretching the truth. Much.

"And on the bus some if it just came back and kinda overwhelmed me, but I'm OK now." I really was. At least for the Moment. Susan was nodding her head in agreement, and my answer seemed to be what Mom and Dad wanted to hear.

"So what's the big deal about a bunch of dead soldiers?" Brian popped up. I started to say something, but Dad grabbed him and hauled him back to his bedroom. The screeching sounds were music to my ears. Even Susan seemed to be enjoying them. Dad came back to join us for the rest of dinner. Brian was nowhere to be seen. I liked it.

After dinner I went quietly back to my room. As I undressed, I found the note and card Granniebelle had given me just before we got off the bus. I decided to look at them tomorrow. I rubbed some moisturizer that Debbie had given me onto my breasts. God, I missed her. God, that felt so good. I fell asleep wishing it was Debbie doing the rubbing.

 

(to be continued)

 

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