Stepping Over

by Kristy Leigh

 

1.

It was Saturday morning in the second week of spring, and nine year-old Kim Taylor was practically busting to get out of the house. Leaning out of the window of his upstairs bedroom, Kim gazed across the lawns and fences of Heartsfield. The air still carried a hint of winter; he could taste it on the back of his tongue as he breathed. A deep, clear sky framed the distant mountains, lazy white clouds drifted sedately across the horizon. Too nice a morning to spend in front of the TV, no matter what was on. The day beckoned him with all the promises of childhood – some of which he was still too young to understand.

He'd promised to meet Janet and Suzie at the playground around half-twelve, which was why he'd grabbed lunch early today. His Mom was really big on the three squares thing and she wouldn't let him out the door without a bite or two. Well, she couldn't complain he wasn't getting his daily ration; he'd downed three BLTs and a glass of Quik only half an hour before. He'd also cleaned up his room, just in case she tried to hold him on a technicality. Mothers were like that, they almost never played fair.

Closing the window, Kim walked over to the dresser, keeping one eye to the clock. It was quarter of twelve; still plenty of time to get down to Memorial Park if he left in the next ten minutes or so. He passed a brush over his hair and tucked his t-shirt into his jeans, making sure to tighten the belt a notch. Unlike most boys his age, Kim was small and delicately built; it was difficult to find clothes that fit him. Even with his hair cropped to the nape of his neck, strangers regularly mistook him for a young girl (a situation causing him considerable embarrassment until quite recently).

Grooming rituals completed, he stepped into his runners (thick, pumpy Docs, roughly three sizes too big) and made for the door. All he had to do now was sneak past the Guardian of the Living Room and he'd be home free. Unfortunately, this final obstacle was also the most difficult to avoid, as his Mom had eyes like a proverbial hawk. Worse still, he knew she was getting curious about how he was spending his afternoons, which meant she would probably go fishing for answers.

And that might pose a few problems.

Kim trotted down the staircase, wondering how he was going to handle this. He wasn't old enough to deceive her (the woman was a human polygraph), but he obviously couldn't tell her everything – not even the parts she'd be capable of believing. Trouble was, she wouldn't let him leave until she'd satisfied her interest. Well, some of it, at least. Maybe that was his solution; throw her a couple of tidbits. Not too much; just enough to keep her guessing.

His mother was stretched out on the sofa, languidly reading one of her Anne Rice novels. This was a familiar scene: Lynne Taylor was a binge reader with a preference for the supernatural. The Vampire Chronicles was her all-time favorite, she must have read it at least sixteen times, as if searching for passages she hadn't noticed before. Kim honestly had no idea what the attraction was. Once you read a book you already knew how it ended. There was no point in reading it again from what he could see.

Kim approached the foot of the lounge with all the caution of a mouse approaching a sleeping lioness.

"Can I go out now, Mom?" he asked, trying hard not to shuffle his feet.

"Cleaned up your room?" Lynne asked without looking up.

"Yeah," Kim replied with an absent-minded nod.

"OK, then," Lynne said indifferently, "where are you going?"

"Down to the Park," the boy answered, "I'm meeting J and S at the swings."

Lynne glanced up, eyebrows arched with uncharacteristic surprise.

"J and S?"

"Janet and Susie."

"And who might they be?"

"Some girls in my class," Kim told her conversationally, "we catch the bus to school together. They live out in Chamberlain Heights."

"Oh, Chamberlain Heights," Lynne smiled, putting on her best la-de-da accent, "moving up in the world, are we?" Kim was aware that she was trying to reel him in with a touch of humor, but he didn't understand what she meant. He shrugged, not really sure how to reply.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Lynne stared at him a few seconds longer, studying his expression, his posture, the lowering of his gaze. He was holding something back, obviously, although he looked more uncomfortable than secretive. Well, whatever it was, it couldn't have been anything too serious. He was nine years old, how serious could it be? Probably just embarrassed about having a little girlfriend or something. Well, whatever it was, she could afford to be patient. She'd find out everything eventually. She always did.

"Alright then," Lynne nodded, turning back to her book, "have a nice day with your friends." Casually turning a dog-eared page between her fingertips, she signaled that audience was finished.

Kim said goodbye and exited the room, hoping to avoid further questioning. He made it as far as the hallway before she issued the usual reminders, almost as an afterthought: "Dinner's at five. And be careful crossing the road."

"Yes, Mom," he called back, and let himself out through the front door. A fine day greeted him with a freshening breeze. He was glad to be out in the fresh air, away from his mother's interrogations. He could see that she'd been surprised he was meeting a couple of girls at the playground, and would have given her eye-teeth to know what was going on. And that would have been a little difficult to explain, particularly since J & S weren't really his friends.

They were Kitty's friends.

Kim ambled along the sidewalk swinging his arms, watching dragon-flies zither across the nature strip. Memorial Park was five blocks up the Drive, about fifteen minutes walk from his place. Except he wasn't heading for Memorial Park, not exactly. He was heading for the playground, just as he'd told his mother, but it had a different name over there. A lot of things had different names over there, come to think of it.

Over there.

That was his name for name for Kitty's world. That land of wonders he'd discovered almost a year ago, when Crazy Old Mata had shown him that dreams weren't always dreams. It was a place of infinite possibilities, where fantasies came true and there was no need to keep secrets from anyone, least of all his mother.

Over There.

Crossing the road at Lethbridge Canal, Kim turned left into Memorial Drive. The Drive was the main street of Heartsfield, running the length of the town and dividing it neatly in two. Hopscotch grids decorated its sidewalks with meticulous regularity, shaded by the leaves of a thousand maples. Kim knew every crossing, curb and corner of the Drive, because he'd lived here all his life.

Heartsfield was your archetypal picket-fence township, a picture-postcard village nestled around the foothills of the Chamberlain Ranges. It was pretty much the same in Kitty's world as it was in his; chalk-white footpaths and tree-lined avenues. You could almost smell the cinnamon pie cooling on every second window sill. His Mom adored the place, said it had a Norman Rockwell feel to it. Kim didn't know who Norman Rockwell was, but the sentiment was clear enough.

Kitty's town was virtually identical, only it was called Hartsvale on her side. Kim supposed the similarity wasn't purely coincidental; everything in Hartsvale was like a reflection of Heartsfield. He'd seen something similar on Star Trek, one time – that episode where Worf found himself falling through a bunch of quantum realities (whatever they were) and everyone seemed to have a double. Which was how things were in Kitty's world. It was like everybody he knew had a twin, someone who looked and acted the same as their counterpart.

Kitty Tyler was his twin, in a way.

Yes, she was a girl, and she wore dresses and ribbons and everything, but she was his twin nonetheless. He'd realized that the very first time he'd 'stepped over' to the other side, nearly a year before. It didn't matter that she wore panties and skipped rope and slept with a cuddly panda in her arms every night. They were so similar, so alike in every other respect. The cast of their features, set of their gaze, the very color of their thoughts. Yes, Kitty Tyler was his twin in every sense of the word.

His twin, and much more besides.

 

2.

Kim continued along Memorial Drive until he reached the trail winding down to the Park. The trail was his doorway to the other side, the path leading into Kitty's world. Pine cones and woodchips crunched beneath his feet as he descended through the trees, fresh woodland scents prickled his nose. Checking his watch, he saw it was nearly twelve. J & S would probably be on their way right now, so he had to get a move on.

It was time to Step Over.

That was how he thought of it – taking one giant stride into another land, like in the story of the seven league boots. Even now, almost a year since he'd started migrating, the whole process had a bizarre, surreal quality about it. Some days, it was like waking up in some weird, never-ending fairy tale. Then again, there were times – such as today – when it all seemed completely normal.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he disappeared into the pine glade that bordered the playground. He had to find an isolated spot where he could be certain no one was watching. Kim wasn't sure what actually happened when he Stepped Over, but he didn't want any witnesses all the same. For all he knew, he might actually vanish into thin air – and that would have been downright impossible to explain.

Once inside the Glade, Kim stood quietly in the shade, preparing to make the transfer. He had to clear his mind, reach across that vast, yawning chasm separating their two worlds. It was like looking up into the night sky and feeling yourself fall into it; reaching that instant of perfect balance dividing a dream from reality. Crazy Mata had called it the Point of Tau, a state of perfect equilibrium between all the universal forces. It was something Shinto monks took decades to achieve through fasting and meditation, but Kim had a natural ability for it, according to Mata. And that was what made it all possible.

The transfer took place in a fraction of a second.

Kim felt the universe shifting around him, the barriers of reality dissolving like a mist before the sun. More than that, he felt his body melt and run inside its skin. Long blond hair swept down past his shoulders, unrolling like a platinum curtain. He was changing, altering. His clothes faded from his limbs as the transformation took effect. Looking down, he had a blurred image of naked flesh morphing between genders. Her clothing flickered back into existence, too fast for the eye to follow. First the underwear, materializing out of nowhere; then the dress, running down her hips in a golden wave. Glittering lights swept across her field of vision, blinding her momentarily –

And suddenly, she was standing beneath a grove of Cypress trees, blinking into a cool April morning. The transfer was finished, she'd Crossed Over from Kim's world.

Looking down, Kitty saw she was wearing a bright yellow sunfrock, the kind with buttons down the front and puffy sleeves on the shoulders. It was one of her favorites, sheer and light as summer breeze. It was funny; jeans and sweatshirt felt perfectly normal back on the Other Side, but once she'd crossed over, Kitty tended to view boy's clothing with vague distaste (particularly the underwear – who in their right mind would want to wear something so indisputably hideous as a pair of jockey shorts?!)

Checking the rest of her wardrobe, she concluded that everything was in the right place – hair tied back in a long, blond ponytail; garishly pink runners with frilly white ankle-socks. Business as usual. It was silly, but sometimes she half-expected to see Kim's clunky old Doc Martins adorning her tiny feet. Kitty understood that that would be impossible, but being a child, logic wasn't her strong point.

Glancing around the grove, she started down the bicycle path (woodchip trail in Kim's world), heading for the playground. She had arranged to meet her friends around twelve thirty, and it was getting on to midday already. It would take around fifteen minutes to make her way through the grove, which was somewhat larger than the pine glade on the Kim's side. With any luck, J & S would be waiting for her at the swings, same as most mornings.

In Kim's world, Janet and Suzie were just a couple of girls who lived five blocks down the road, but over here, they were Kitty's best friends. She's known them since the first grade, back when they used to play hopscotch everyday after school. Kitty guessed they were getting a little too old for Barbie dolls and jump-rope these days, but they still hung out together, watching TV and gorging on chocolate cookies like there was no tomorrow. Not that the future was a big concern for any of them. The best summer of their lives was spread out before them – and when you're a child, the summer never seems to end.

3.

Emerging from the Cypress Grove, Kitty walked over to water fountain, scanning the playground as she bent over to take a drink. The field was empty except for a small group of boys playing catch on the other side of the oval. That was nothing out of the ordinary; Coronation Park was usually deserted this time of day. Most of the kids she knew lived over on the Westside. Kitty decided to test out the swings while she waited for her friends. It was only quarter past twelve; they'd probably still be finishing lunch.

Kitty rode the breeze for several minutes, leaning back and pointing her toes towards the clouds. A light wind whipped up her thighs, inflating her skirt and revealing her underpants. Smiling with pleasure, she kicked her feet in mid-air, enjoying the touch of the air on her skin. Like most girls her age, she loved riding the breeze in the early afternoon; it left her feeling cool and tingly all over.

"Kitty!" someone called, "hey, Kitty!"

She looked around to see Janet and Suzie approaching through the oval. Raising her hand hand in casual greeting, she waved a reply over her shoulder. The girls wandered over to the swings, chattering with the easy banter of childhood. All three swung in unison, as if sensing some universal rhythm, their ponytails streaming carelessly out behind them.

The afternoon passed in a patter of girlish conversation as they swung happily through the sky. Kitty's frock billowed up over her waist several times. She kicked her long legs every time her skirt rose, pretending she was a cancan girl. That was one of her favorite bedroom games; she often danced before her mirror with her skirt up to her chin. The very thought of showing off her panties in public made her heart race with excitement. Sometimes she wore her pink satin panties, the ones with the lacy frills around the derriere. She felt so breathtakingly naughty when she bent over and threw her skirt over her head, revealing her pantied bottom to the mirror.

"Wanna go play on the jungle gym?" Suzie asked no one in particular. They'd been on the swings for a good thirty minutes by now.

"Okay," Janet said, and hopped off the swing. Kitty followed a moment later, dropping catlike to her feet. The three walked over to the monkey bars, chortling happily away amongst themselves. Suzie reached the gym first, swinging to the top with a kind of unconscious grace. Kitty followed her friends along the bars, clambering hand-over-hand in quick bursts. Her heart was thudding in her throat. This was the part she enjoyed the most.

Reaching the center of the grid, Kitty hooked her knees over the bars and slung herself upside down. Her dress immediately flipped inside out, exposing her undies all the way to her belly button. She felt a blush rise to her features: everything was on display now. It was embarrassing, but it was also kind of nice, too – that tingly feeling was spreading though her entire body now. Flicking her tongue over her lips, she glanced down (or rather up) to see what she had on.

Her panties were white nylon briefs with a little bow on the front. Most of Kitty's underpants were either pink or white (the only colors her Mommy bothered to buy, for some reason). Kitty absolutely loved showing them off. As far as she was concerned, it was a crime to hide something so pretty. The frock slid slowly down her torso, revealing several inches of smooth tummy and a hint of cotton singlet. The skirt hung limply over her face, blocking her view of the playground. She had to push it aside with one hand to see what was going on.

Suzie D'Antonio was sitting on top of the bars, idly studying her friend's underwear. There was nothing illicit in her gaze, just childish curiosity. She'd known Kitty for over four years and must have seen her panties like a zillion times. Anyway, there wasn't much else to look at, all she could see were a pair of splayed thighs and silky white gusset. Everything else was hidden behind a fall of yellow cotton. Overhead, the clouds wheeled across a perfect sky. The conversation drifted onto the usual topics – mermaids, unicorns, boys and teachers. Kitty rocked gently back and forth beneath the scaffold, her frock inching steadily toward the ground.

Janet was also hanging by the knees, although she wasn't revealing anything. The quintessential tomboy, Janet Connor never wore anything except shorts and jeans. Like Suzie, she was used to seeing Kitty's underpants every time they hit the playground (or anywhere else, for that matter). Young as she was, Janet understood that her playmate loved doing "girlie" things. It was just another side of her personality, no different from her preference for ultra-cutsie plush toys. As a matter of fact, Kitty Taylor must have been about the "girliest" little girl she'd ever met.

As for Kitty herself, she would have hung upside down all afternoon if she could have. Having her panties on exhibit always made her head spin with delight. It was something that Kim could never do back in his plane of existence, so she always seized the opportunity whenever it arose – making up for lost time, so to speak. It was sort of like the cancan thing; she loved that sense of impish pleasure that accompanied the act of baring. There was something else too, a kind of breathless arousal, but she was still too young to put a name to that.

At some point, Suzie lost all interest in Kitty's underwear and swung down between her friends, reaching out to take their hands in her own. Janet hummed a tune from a popular soft drink commercial and the other two joined in without even thinking. Gravity had its way with Kitty's dress until it was all but falling off her shoulders.

And holding hands beneath the wide, clear sky, they rocked their way through the early afternoon.

4.

The wind continued to pick up as the day wore on, shaking leaves from the trees and driving swarms of cicadas through the Cypress grove. The girls descended from the bars and chased each other around the cenotaph until they fell to the grass in a jumbled heap, breathless and gasping and giggling with delight. Once they'd caught their breath, they climbed up into the Indian Fort to play a few rounds of Rock-Kisses-Paper, which was how they normally concluded their day. Rock-Kisses-Paper was their special version of the classic schoolyard hand-game, in which the loser had to kiss the winners on the lips. It was a very secret thing, this soft pressing of the lips, something they had sworn to keep between themselves. It had been Kitty's suggestion, made some months before when she first started Crossing Over. Much to her surprise, the others had agreed without comment, as if kissing their best friend was the most natural thing in the world.

Which, of course, it was.

The afternoon finally wound down around 4.00, when the shadows began lengthening to a noticeable degree. Alerted by some obscure telepathy unknown to modern science, all three slid down out of the Fort and walked over to the water fountain (half an hour of non-stop kissy-kissy being thirsty work and all). This was their last pit-stop before heading their separate ways, Kitty via the Cypress Grove, J & S through the oval. It had been a fine, cool day, but they were all ready to head home for a nice, warm dose of mother-love. Somewhere beyond the trees, households were clicking into evening mode. Baths being run in anticipation of the evening's girl-washing festivities.

"See you tomorrow?" Suzie asked, her hair tousled by the rising gale. Janet stood close behind her, carefully straightening out her rumpled t-shirt. Her mom would probably have a heart attack when she got home, same as every night.

"Yeah, okay," Kitty replied, unconsciously fussing with her own clothing, "over by the swings again?" The girls nodded their agreement, Janet readjusting her hair-band in the background.

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Okay, bye"

They stepped in to exchange brief girly kisses (on the cheek this time), moist and sweet as the taste of rock-candy. Kitty felt a light hand patting her bottom. Probably Janet – Jan Connor was an incorrigible bottom-patter, always had been. Not that Kitty minded in the least, there was something rather endearing about the gesture. They said goodbye one last time, touching fingers as they turned away, and the afternoon was over.

Kitty returned to her quiet spot beneath the trees, preparing herself for the return trip. The Cypress Grove was a Pine Glade back on Kim's side of reality, one of a number of subtle differences between their two worlds. The surrounding country side was pretty much the same – low foothills leading up to steeply sloping mountainsides. The layout of the city was virtually identical, but street names and other things were slightly off-kilter. Coronation Avenue was called Memorial Drive in Kim's world; Eastland Plaza was known as Dawnside Mall. These were all minor variations, barely discernable to the casual observer. The most significant difference, so far as Kitty could see, was that she was a boy over there.

And in some respects, that made all the difference.

Closing her eyes (unlike Kim, she didn't like to watch the world melt and shift around her), Kitty uttered her codeword and Crossed Over. The moment of transfer spun out to eternity; the ground seemed to vanish beneath her feet. Plunging through the quantum fabric of the universe, Kitty felt her clothes whipped from her figure, her body dissolving and reforming at precisely the same instant. Stars glittered beneath her eyelids, blazing like miniature supernovas –

And Kim Taylor opened his eyes.

He was back in his world, still bearing the residue of his otherself. That lush tingling sensation was coursing through his nervous system, making his heart race like a trip hammer. He glanced down at himself, making sure he wasn't wearing a dress, then glanced around the Glade, listening for approaching footsteps. Had anyone seen him arrive? No, it was nearly four thirty, and the woodchip trail was deserted. He had to get home now. His Mom would be heating up the oven, wondering where he was this late in the afternoon.

Checking his watch, Kim headed up towards Memorial Drive. In some other universe, Kitty Tyler was walking along a disused bicycle path, treading precisely the same steps as himself. Somehow, they always managed to fall into sync whenever he decided to Step Over. They would probably remain in tune until he reached his front door. It was a paradox, impossible to explain, but that was how it appeared to work.

"Is that you, Kim?" his mother called out from the kitchen as he let himself in through the front door.

"Yes, Mom," he replied, kicking off his runners. The rich aroma of chicken casserole wafted down the hallway. Kim ran his tongue over his teeth, realizing for the first time how hungry he was.

"OK. Upstairs and wash up. Dinner's in ten minutes."

"Yes, Mom," he repeated, and trotted obediently up to the bathroom. Most of their conversations followed this minimalist pattern. No sentiment, no tenderness, no maudlin terms of endearment. His mother wasn't as openly affectionate as Kitty's. Women tend to treat boys differently to girls. Well, no big deal; the woman cooked a killer Sunday roast, which was how she usually demonstrated her love for him.

Leaning over the sink, Kim scrubbed his face and arms, watching himself closely in the mirror. He could almost see his twin standing on the other side, lathering up her tiny hands with liquid soap. They were still in sync, even now. Probably would be for the rest of the evening. Of course, superficial variations were inevitable. Kitty lived in an all-female household; her vanity was covered with bath oils, deodorants and exotic perfumes. Kim's marble-top was devoid of cosmetics, his mother kept everything in the medicine cabinet (particularly since she'd caught him experimenting with her lipstick).

Drying his face with a soft blue towel, Kim bid a silent farewell to his reflection and strode out into the hallway. Kitty walked with him, he could hear her thoughts echoing through the passages of his mind, like a voice murmuring through a paper wall. That wasn't too surprising; they were the same person after all. Always had been, although he'd never realized it until last year. Seemed like forever ago now, but when you're a kid, a year can last a lifetime.

He headed for stairs, thinking of the afternoon he (she) had spent at the park: the sun, the grass, the cool, gentle breeze. The gasping delight she'd felt, hanging upside down with her dress over her head. A heady mixture of pleasure and humiliation, it usually occurred when he imagined he was a girl – something which had baffled him for years, but made perfect sense since he'd discovered Kitty's existence. Small wonder he fantasized about being a girl.

In another reality, he was.

Looking out through an upstairs window, he saw that a blue twilight had fallen across Chamberlain. Streetlights flickered on one by one as he watched, sweeping past his house towards the west end of town. Kim had always thought it signaled the end of day (which, indeed, it does when you're nine years old). He descended the stairs with his hand on the rail, smiling gently to himself. There was a great deal of magic in his life. More, perhaps, than any child honestly deserved. He often wondered if there was any one else like him, if he was the only boy capable of spanning the boundaries between two separate worlds. He supposed there had to be others, but Crazy Mata had told him that he was unique. Rare, exceptional, one in a million. The only one who turned into a girl when he transferred.

"Dinner's ready," Mom called from the living room. They usually ate in front of the TV, same as any normal American family. Kim picked up his feet and scampered down the hallway, practically watering at the mouth. Strangely enough, he was always ravenously hungry after spending a day on the Other Side. Hungry, tired and thoroughly satisfied.

"Well, did you have a good time down at the park?" Lynne asked as Kim launched himself into a chair.

"Yeah," he replied, reaching for his plate, "we played on the swings and the bars and everything!"

"We?"

"J & S and I."

"Oh, yes, S and J," Mom nodded sagely, "your new friends. So, what else did you do?"

Lynne Taylor listened in mild amusement while her son regaled her with stories of the day's adventures, grateful that he was finally making friends. She knew he was something of a schoolyard pariah, that his classmates regarded him as an unwanted and rather unsavory stranger. Originally she'd dismissed it as the result of a naturally timid personality, but recently, she'd begun to fear that Kim was socially maladjusted (the latest sound-bite bandied about by new-age therapists these days). The revelation that he was forming normal relationships came as something of a relief. And if it seemed a little odd that a nine-year old boy was hanging out with a couple of girls, Lynne didn't mind in the least.

For reasons she couldn't quite explain, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

The End.

  

  

  

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