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New Life
The Inspiring Story of Brooke McKellogg
By Jackson Williams
Published by Crescent Suns Publishing on Smashwords
Copyright Jackson Williams 2011
Dream Woman Music & Lyrics Copyright 1992 Jacob M. Drake
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Chapter One
"Hey, ya little faggot! What the fuck're you doing in the boys locker room?"
Bobby McKellogg found himself slammed up against the lockers, the boy who stood over him scowling, one fist cocked and ready to slam into Bobby's face if he said the wrong thing. He was used to it. Certain boys always treated him this way. Brian Nelson was the worst of them, though.
"Answer me, faggot!" Brian shoved a hand against Bobby's chest, pushing him harder against the lockers. The metal bit into his back, but he was afraid to say anything. He knew no matter what he said, Brian Nelson was going to hit him. He wanted so much to burst into tears, but he knew he couldn't. Crying at this point, no matter how much his emotions welled up within him just then, would be the worst thing he could do. Everyone would have him pegged for a crybaby. He'd never live it down. He couldn't help it if he was a tenderhearted boy, the term his mother always used when he came home crying over something that had happened, usually at school.
"What's going on here?" Mr. Ashland, the boy's gym teacher and football coach walked into the locker room, saw the scene transpiring and even though he understood why it was happening, knew he had to put a stop to it.
"Brian - in my office. Now!"
Brian Nelson scowled once more at Bobby and slowly pulled back, dropping his hands, still clenched into fists, to his sides. "This isn't over, yet, faggot," he growled. He walked past the rows of lockers and disappeared around the corner. Bobby knew no matter how bad the situation got, Brian would never get punished the way he deserved. He and Tom Walsh, the other boy who tormented Bobby the most, and Brian's best friend, were two of the best athletes in school. Once they hit high school they'd be prime candidates for the football and wrestling teams. Mr. Ashland always wanted to help the "jocks", since he was friends with the high school football coach. He wasn't about to suspend them or give them any kind of punishment that fit their crimes against kids like Bobby.
"You all right, Bobby?" Mr. Ashland reached forward and gently squeezed the smaller boy's right shoulder. His hand suddenly pulled back, as though he realized who he was touching and didn't want to contract anything that might be contagious.
"Sure. No problem, Mr. Ashland. Brian didn't hurt me - physically." Again he felt the tears welling up, filling his lower eyelid. He couldn't even reach up and brush the fluid away without it spilling down his cheeks. Too many other boys still crowded the locker room and would see it, giving them fuel to torment him mercilessly.
Bobby knew no matter what kind of policies against bullying and gender-bashing this school enacted, kids like Brian and Tom would always get away with whatever they wanted to do against kids who were like Bobby - different from everyone else. He didn't know why he was different. It wasn't anything he understood. All he knew about himself was that he was a "gentle boy"; someone who was more feminine in his outlook on life and seemed to get along better with girls than boys. He had never told anyone else he also liked wearing girl's clothes and playing with girl's toys - wearing girl's makeup. Though the desire to be so completely like a girl burned deeply within him, he knew telling anyone, even the barest of hints, would get him more than beat up by a school bully; he would end up the target of everyone, every boy at least, from now until the end of his senior year of high school. He'd be called far worse than faggot from then on.
"Why don't you skip PE today," Mr. Ashland suggested, already pulling away from this student. "In fact, I've been thinking maybe you could skip PE altogether for the semester. How about if you spend this period in the library from now on? Write a report on - ah, the human physiology. Make it at least five pages, with annotated references, okay? When you're done with that report I'll give you another one to write. Mrs. Stanton's expecting you."
"Sure," Bobby nodded. He pulled away from the lockers and headed toward the exit that led to the hallway. The tears finally got their release and started in his eyes; slowly leaked down his cheeks in long rivulets that left wet tracks across his skin. He turned toward a wall of lockers, even though no one else was around, so his tears wouldn't be seen and lifted an arm - wiped the tears away with his sleeve. It was bad enough all the kids in school thought of him as gay - a queer - a faggot, like Brian had called him. He didn't need everyone seeing him cry, too. He kept his face down as he moved easily through the empty hallway. All the other students were in classes. He was the only one free to walk to his next destination. If only he could be alone in the hallways all the time, every day, between every class. Then he wouldn't have to be jostled about by the bullies who took advantage of the fact that no one could possibly prove they had intentionally pushed him or tripped him or even rammed him with their shoulders as they "passed by on their way to class". He was tired of picking his books and papers up off the floor, gathering everything that had scattered every which way when it was knocked - deliberately - from his hands every day. Several times he had ended up with a bloodied nose and black eyes. And other kids wondered why he looked so sad and jittery all the time. At his age he wasn't supposed to "carry the weight of the world on his shoulders", but it seemed like that's exactly what he had to do as soon as he stepped through the doors of this school every morning.
Bobby went to his locker in the hallway. Opened it and withdrew his notebook and other supplies he would need for writing his report. Then he went to the library where the librarian smiled at him as he entered. She already knew him well enough from all the other times he had hidden in here among the stacks of books. Mostly during lunch.
"Hi, Bobby," Mrs. Stanton smiled warmly. "Mr. Ashland told me you'd be coming in here every day during this period. Don't worry about having a pass. Just find a spot and start doing research on your report. If you need any help in locating anything, you know where to find me."
"Thanks, Mrs. Stanton," Bobby smiled weakly. Like most of his female teachers, the librarian, Mrs. Stanton, was friendly toward him. She always smiled and he knew it was genuine. But she was like that to everyone. If she had ever spoken a cross word to any student or spoken in a terse manner, Bobby hadn't been around to hear it. He moved past her desk and toward the tables in the middle of the library. He set his notebook and supplies down and went in search of the books he might need.
While he looked through the books on Human Physiology, Human Anatomy, and other related subjects, he thought about his own particular anatomy and physiology. Why was it he was born different from everyone else? Why was it that even though he was in the body of a twelve year-old boy his desires pulled him toward wanting to be a girl instead? Not just this year, though. Bobby had always been this way. He'd always gravitated toward girls more than boys. He'd always wanted to be a girl.
It wasn't that Bobby was gay, the way everyone else thought he was. He didn't desire sex with boys. On the contrary - he still thought of sex with girls - maybe not as much as most other boys in this school or anywhere else in the world, but he did think about it. His problem was that he looked at the girls who walked about him all day long in school and everywhere else and admired the way they looked - the way they dressed - the way they walked and accessorized themselves with all the jewelry they wore, the frilly, feminine styles and so many other things that girls could do and wear that boys couldn't. He'd always yearned to wear the cheerful colors of girl's clothing; wear his hair longer and up in a ponytail or in curls. He thought sometimes pigtails would be a happy way to wear his hair. He wanted to wear earrings, and not just the simple studs some of the other boys wore, but dangly earrings and big, ornate, gaudy ones like his sister Annie sometimes wore.
It was that fact alone that had caused him to be seen as gay here in school. One day he had borrowed some of his older sister's jewelry and put it on while riding the bus to school. When he got off the bus the others kids quickly took notice of how he was adorned and started making fun of him. That was when everyone started calling him "queer" and "fag", even though he had never dressed like that again. He hadn't understood then why he couldn't wear such jewelry and he still didn't. What was wrong with boys looking colorful and frilly? In nature the most colorful of nearly every species was the male. In comparison the females were always less colorful; lackluster; drab.
Bobby shook his head as he searched through the stacks of books. What if these same kids could see him at home when no one else was around? When he went into his sister's room and tried on her older, smaller clothes that she never wore any longer, looked at himself in the full-length mirror in her room? That would really get the rumors about him going. Those would be deadly rumors.
Once he had found a pair of her pantyhose lying strewn on the floor of her room. He had picked them up and looked at them, trying to figure out what it was about them that attracted him so. He couldn't tell, but he knew he wanted to wear them. He wanted to see his legs and lower torso bound up in nylon, or whatever these were made of, so he could look smooth and sleek like Annie did when she put them on. He had peered in at her a few times when she was getting dressed for a date or going out somewhere special with other girls. Once she had her pantyhose on she always lifted her skirt and ran her hands along the fronts and sides of her legs, feeling the smoothness of her curves. He knew she enjoyed it, because she always sighed so heavenly at those times. Then she always caressed her butt and he found his own body trembling; not because he desired his own sister, but because he longed to know what that feeling was like; to know why she sighed the way she did while wearing these garments.
He had taken them and gone into his own room and locked the door. He wasn't supposed to lock his door, since he shared a room with his older brother, Jordan, but he didn't want anyone walking in on him at that moment, especially Jordan. Bobby had stripped off all his clothes and pulled the too-long pantyhose over his bare legs and up past his butt to his chest. He'd grinned at how big they were on him. Annie was five years older than he was and it wasn't that she was fat, because she was actually very nicely proportioned; it was simply that he was small for his age. Everything looked bigger on him.
He pulled the loose pantyhose tight on his otherwise nude body and ran his hands along the smooth-as-silk material. Wow. That was nice. He liked how that felt. It was - what was the word he had heard other kids use for things that were sexually stimulating? Erotic. That was it. These pantyhose made him feel erotic. He decided he loved that sensation and he did it a few more times all along the fronts and backs of his legs and along his tiny butt. When he ran his hands along the front of his groin, however, that was when he felt the biggest sensation. His whole body shivered. It was like a jolt of electricity had hit his system all at once. He did it again and moaned from the feeling it gave him. He had found his small penis responding and growing slightly larger.
God, this was great, but he'd known he couldn't stay in his bedroom. Jordan would be home soon and if he'd found the door locked he'd pound on it and yell at him until he unlocked it. That always gave his brother the idea he could do anything he wanted to the "little twerp" for trying to keep him out of his own room.
He'd quickly pulled the pantyhose off his body and put on the clothes he'd worn to school that day. He'd opened his door and made sure no one else was around and made a dash to the bathroom. Once inside he'd locked it. This door he was allowed to lock so no one accidentally barged in while he was relieving himself. It was the only room in the house he was allowed to lock. If someone else needed to use the toilet they had to go into his parents' bedroom and on into their bathroom.
He'd removed his clothes once more and pulled on the pantyhose. Then he'd run his hands up and down the front of his body. Every time he'd passed over his groin he'd felt that same electric shock. He'd known it wasn't actually electricity, but whatever it was, he'd liked it and started moving his hands just along that one area. Then he'd begun centering the motion on his penis alone and he moaned again. He'd known he had to be quiet about this, but it was such a wonderfully - erotic - feeling that he couldn't help but moan. He'd started rubbing himself harder and faster down there with the smoothness of the pantyhose the only thing between his penis and his hands. Suddenly he had ejaculated. The action had both pleased and horrified him. Pleased, because he always enjoyed that feeling more than any other feeling. Horrified, because he had gotten his sister's pantyhose all sticky with his semen. Now what was he to do?
Bobby had removed the pantyhose and washed them in the sink, but then they were wet, so he'd wadded them up, gotten dressed, and taken them into his own room where he'd hidden them underneath his bed. He hadn't wanted to keep them; he just hadn't wanted anyone to find out he'd taken them and guess at what he had done in them.
When Annie had gotten home that night she had found her pantyhose missing and asked her mother about them. She had looked all over and couldn't find them, but had never thought to ask Bobby, the youngest of the three McKellogg kids. What would he be doing with her pantyhose?
Bobby sighed as he pulled some books from the library shelves. He looked at the covers and titles and pushed them back into place before pulling out others to look at. He wasn't really all that sure what he wanted. Something on the human body was all he knew. But there were so many areas on physiology to choose from.
What was this? He pulled a book off the shelf and looked at it.
Transgender: The Reassignment of the Sexes
He had heard some things about this. Sex changing, right? Men becoming women and women becoming men. Physically. Legally. So no one could tell the difference.
Bobby flipped through the pages, glancing at the chapter headings and stopping to look longer at the various pictures of the men and women featured within this book - the stories it told about each one and how they had been born male or female and made the decision to become the opposite sex.
Was this for real? Bobby continued flipping the pages, then closed the book and held it against his chest as though the mere physical contact with this book could make his greatest dream a reality.
Were there more books on this subject? He started looking through all the books on the shelves in this section, but this seemed to be the only one of its kind.
Breathless, Bobby took the book back to his table and sat down. He started reading through the chapters more thoroughly, enjoying the stories they told. Some of them made him tear-up, since what they had to say about the lives of these people was so similar to what he was going through right now. But these people had all found the way to change their lives. Make everything different. Make it all the way it should have been from the beginning. From birth.
When that period was over Bobby checked the book out and took it with him to his locker. He pushed it inside and withdrew the books he needed for the rest of his classes. He shut the locker, his heart pounding in his chest as he hurried to his next class. All he could think about for the rest of the day was that book and the people it talked about.
Was it possible that he could do the same thing?
Would his parents let him?
That was going to be his biggest problem, he knew. Telling his parents his deepest, darkest, most thrilling secrets. Then telling them that their "little boy" wanted to become their "little girl", instead.
Chapter Two
Once he got home from school that day he got on the internet and started looking up anything he could find on gender reassignment and sex changes. There wasn't as much as he would have liked, but there was a lot more than what he had found in the library. He spent the rest of the afternoon researching this subject until his mom and dad came home from work and his mom told him to get washed up for dinner.
At the dinner table he sat there with the rest of his family, his parents talking about things that happened during the day, mostly to each other, since none of the kids really cared all that much what each of these adults did at work.
Bobby looked at his siblings, his older brother and sister - his sister being the oldest. What would they think if he were to blurt out to everyone right now that he knew what was wrong with him? That he knew he had been born in a male body, but he should have been born a female instead? What would each of them say if he told how he wanted to get a sex change?
His brother and sister would laugh. His brother especially would call him queer, just like everyone else at school. That was all he needed - the same crap he got at school right here in his own home. It had always been bad enough that his brother called him names and told him he was a retard whenever he had played with his sister's old toys she never played with any longer. "Boys don't play with sissy dolls, ass-wipe," Jordan had told him more than once over the years. "You wanna be a girl go find somewhere else to live," he'd said the last time he'd caught Bobby playing with some of Annie's old dolls. He'd been fortunate Jordan had never found him when he'd had Annie's old baby doll that could be fed with a bottle. Bobby had once held the doll up to his nipple and pretended to be breast feeding it. He'd heard the back door slam and known Jordan had come home. Bobby had tossed the doll under the bed just as his brother had come into the room. Later he'd put the doll back into Annie's closet where he'd found it. He'd been relieved to not have to explain to his brother why he had been trying to breast feed a doll.
His sister would roll her eyes the way she always did about things she disagreed with. She might not say anything mean, the way his brother would, but she would shake her head and not talk to him about it at all. That might be even worse - to be ignored.
His parents though - how would they react?
He could see the shock on their faces if he told them. He could see his dad grow angry at the thought of his youngest son wanting to become a girl. He would say there was no way in hell his son was getting a sex change. And then he would never talk about it again and he would start averting his eyes from Bobby every time he entered the room, ashamed that his son wanted to be a girl.
His mother, though - she was the hardest to figure on this. She had always been supportive of his differences. His mother cuddled him close every time he got hurt, even if it was only a mental hurt, an emotional pain, something that had been said to him that made him cry. She always said he was too loving and sensitive a boy to be out in this big, horrible, hurtful world. Sometimes she sang to him in order to calm his fears and hurts. His favorite song was when she sang Vincent. The line he liked best was - This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. That line made him cry even more. He thought of himself that way - too beautiful - or at least different - for this world to accept.
His mom would understand. He was sure of that. She might even like the idea of having another daughter.
He smiled to himself at the thought of being a "daughter" instead of a "son".
"What're you smiling at, bug-face?" his brother Jordan mocked. Bobby knew he'd wanted to call him "butt-face", but with their parents present the older boy would only get in trouble. They didn't stand for that kind of name calling at home.
Bobby looked up at his brother and the older boy squished mashed potatoes through his teeth. Bobby laughed out loud at the stupidity of his brother. He could be mean and cruel to Bobby some times, but other times he was just fun to be with. He did the most stupid things, like this with the potatoes.
"Just thinking about school today," Bobby answered.
"Oh? Did something good happen at school today?" His mother perked up her interest, knowing that not enough good things happened to her youngest in school, and Bobby felt his heart start pounding in his chest. He lost his smile. How could he tell his parents about him not being in PE class any more? How could he tell them why the teacher told him to write a report instead of participating in gym class? That all the other boys felt uncomfortable with him undressing around them and worse, watching them undress? Not that he had any interest in looking at any of their bodies. He knew all-too-well from looking at his own body what boys looked like. He was more interested in how girls looked and what the differences were, how he could make his body look like theirs.
"Nothing, really," he shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his mouth with food. His mother didn't like the kids talking with their mouths full, so that seemed like his best defense at the moment - fill his mouth so he couldn't talk.
"Well, it must have been something if you were smiling about it," his mother tried to encourage him to talk. Sometimes her encouragement and support of him came at the wrong times. Sometimes she needed to learn to let things lie so his brother wouldn't make fun of him.
He shrugged again. "Just - something stupid John Barsky said. You don't want me to repeat it," he smiled oddly, like it had been something rude.
"Well, I suppose not," his mother finally conceded. "Not if it was something John said." Both his parents knew how off-color his best friend - mostly his only friend - John Barsky could be. He was one of the rudest, most verbally offensive kids in school, but that was just how John handled being different. John was partly Russian, hence his last name - and partly Portuguese. He spoke with a bit of an odd accent and that was why kids poked fun at him - because sometimes it had been difficult to understand him when his family had first moved to this area and he had started school.
Bobby was glad John was his friend, though. First, because John often pulled attention away from him. Second, because John didn't care if Bobby was different from everyone else. John was so different he liked that Bobby was, too. He thought John Barsky was the funniest kid in school. No one picked on him when he was with John, and not because John was bigger than they were, though he was bigger than a lot of the boys; mostly it was just because when he was around John no one seemed to notice he existed. They were too busy listening to John's risqué jokes and laughing.
Once while they were all standing around school before classes began John had reached over to one of the girls standing near him. The weather had started turning colder and she had been wearing a knit sweater with a zipper running all the way down the front. John's curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had snagged hold of the zipper and before the girl could react, pulled it all the way down. Her top had flapped open, revealing not only that she hadn't been wearing anything else under the sweater, but that she was as flat-as-a-board with no breasts at all. The girl had walked away from the other kids, embarrassed, as she zipped her sweater back up. They had all laughed, not because the girl was flat, but mostly just because John Barsky had done something so bizarre and foolish that anyone else would have been either suspended or expelled from school. Somehow John always seemed to get away with stunts like that one.
After dinner Bobby did his chores, clearing the table while Jordan took out the garbage and Annie helped their mom with doing dishes. His dad waited until the table was cleared and then sat down to figure out the monthly bills. Bobby hoped he would never have to figure out bills the way his dad did. It seemed like such a boring job that always tired his dad out so much he sometimes pulled at his hair and rubbed his temples.
Bobby went into the room he shared with his brother and buried himself in his homework. He knew that was the only way not to talk to his brother when he came into their room. That was one of the rules in the house - leave each other alone when doing homework - which was one of the most important things to his parents.
Sure enough - Jordan entered and said something stupid and obnoxious. Bobby simply said, "Doing homework," and Jordan stopped, looked at his brother as though he'd like to squish him like the offensive bug Jordan saw him as, and then went back out into the living room to watch TV. That's why Bobby always left his homework until after dinner. It was the best way to keep from being bugged by Jordan until bed time.
He didn't broach the subject of getting a sex change that night. Nor the next night or the night after that. Not for nearly a month after he had first started thinking about it. By the time Bobby finally got up the courage to talk to his parents about the thing that had become the most important subject in his entire life, he had researched it until there was nothing left to research and he had exhausted everything he could possibly locate on the internet and in the public library downtown.
But he knew he needed to talk to his mother alone, first. That was the smart way to bring this subject up. If he brought it up to both of them together and his dad shot him down immediately, he knew there'd never be another chance to talk to his mother alone. She wouldn't want to discuss something that could bring a rift between her and his dad.
"Mom," he almost murmured his words as he stood next to his mother at the kitchen sink on a night when it was his turn to help with the dishes. "Can I talk to you about something?"
"Of course, dear," his mother glanced at him and smiled as she handed him another plate to rinse. "You know you can talk to me about anything. What's on your mind?"
Bobby fidgeted and continued rinsing dishes, placing each one in the dish drainer. They had a dishwasher, but his mom liked doing the dishes by hand. She said it relaxed her and you always had to almost completely wash dishes in order to get them ready for a dishwasher anyway, so why bother with the machine? Now that he had opened the subject up, he didn't know what to say. His throat became instantly dry and he couldn't find enough saliva for speaking.
Bobby dried his hands on a dishtowel and went to the refrigerator. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and drank half of it down, but still his throat felt dry. He sat at the kitchen table, his glass in front of him.
Seeing that her son obviously had something important on his mind, his mother rinsed and dried her own hands and sat down next to him. She placed a comforting arm about his shoulders and leaned in close so they could talk without being overheard.
"Everything all right at school?" she asked quietly. "Something to do with girls, maybe?"
Bobby smiled just a little. "You could say that," he shrugged, his hands playing with his glass of juice.
"Well, do you think maybe you should talk to your father about it?"
"No!" Bobby's eyes grew big. He looked at his mother with an expression that told her it was more than the average "father-to-son" talk on sex.
His mother pulled him close to her and hugged him. "You tell me what it is when you're ready, honey. I'll just listen."
It took Bobby a bit to finally start talking. When he did it was in a small whisper.
"What - what would you say if - I wanted to be a - girl?"
He could feel his mother's body stiffen, since they were pulled so close to one another. His heart resumed beating faster. He just knew he had said the wrong thing and his mother was going to hate him for the rest of his life.
Then his mother's body relaxed and she hugged him tighter.
"I..." she paused and cleared her own throat the way he had done. Evidently she had a dry throat, too. "I've thought about that same thing," she whispered as quietly.
Bobby turned his head and looked up into his mother's face. There were tears filling her eyes. She smiled at him with pinched lips.
"You - have?" he croaked, his own eyes tearing up.
She nodded her head. "For some time now. I see how you are around the house. Even more how you look at girl's clothing in the stores. I know how hard it is for you to get school clothes each year, selecting new jeans and T-shirts, maybe a short-sleeved button-up shirt or two, when what you really want is to wear skirts and dresses and blouses and cute little socks with frills at the top like Annie."
"How..?" he began, but his throat closed up.
"How did I know? I'm your best friend, remember, sweetie? I know things about you sometimes before you know them yourself.
"Do you remember when you had a party for your tenth birthday?"
He nodded at her. How could he ever forget that party? It had only been two years previous and was still too fresh in his mind.
"You asked for a My Little Pony with all the accessories. I thought hard about getting you that and I knew it was something you really wanted. Your father wanted you to have more traditional boy's toys and so I got you that Transformers thing as well. But I remember how when you opened your presents at your party your eyes got big when you saw the My Little Pony. Even more when you opened the box with all those great and pretty accessories for it.
"I knew then you wouldn't always be my little boy; I just didn't know how long it would be before you brought the subject up. Or if you ever would." She squeezed him tighter to her face and kissed his cheek. "I still love you, no matter what happens in your life, sweetie."
The tears began silently flowing down both of their cheeks and they looked at one another without speaking for a minute.
"Do - do you think Dad will let me?"
"Become a girl?" his mother asked, blinking her eyes to stop her tears.
He nodded, his lower lip pushed out further than the other one.
"I don't even want to think about how your father might react to this news. Why don't you let me talk to him a bit, first? Let me bring up the subject in a way that won't seem so - offensive to him."
"You think Dad will hate me for this?"
"No, sweetie," she pulled him even closer to her and wrapped both arms about him. "No, your dad would never hate you. He loves you just like I do. He just doesn't understand you the way I do. But he won't ever hate you.
"Just let me lay the ground work on this, okay?"
Bobby nodded and they both cried silently some more.
It was almost a week later that Bobby first heard his mom and dad out in the living room having a heated discussion after the kids had all gone to bed. It had started off quiet, but soon grew loud enough that he often heard his mom shushing his dad and trying to get him to lower his voice. Bobby knew then she had broached the subject with his dad and his dad wasn't taking too well to finding out his son wanted to become a girl.
Over the next few weeks there were more discussions of the same type, only most of the time they didn't get as loud as the first one. Bobby had noticed at first that his dad didn't seem to look at him as much as he used to. Sometimes he caught his dad glancing at him, but when Bobby turned his head to look at his dad, his dad looked away. Bobby spent more time than usual in his room, before his brother came home from his after-school sports activities, crying into his pillow so no one would hear him sobbing over the trauma he had caused within his family.
Bobby became far quieter than ever before, even though he had always been a relatively quiet child throughout his life. Now he barely spoke to anyone at home and even at school. His friend John Barsky kept trying to find out what was wrong and why Bobby didn't ever want to go out and "goof off" with him anymore. All Bobby did was go home directly after school and shut himself up in his room so he could cry into his pillow.
He figured it might not be long before his dad had enough of this family and asked his mom for a divorce. Bobby had already decided that if it came to that and his parents got divorced because of him, he would end his life.
Chapter Three
Another whole month went by, which made almost three months total from the time Bobby had heard his parents arguing in the living room that first night, before Bobby went for a drive with both his parents one day. Just the three of them. By then he had passed his thirteenth birthday and being a year older made him yearn to see his greatest desire fulfilled all that much more. They went out to Baskin Robbins and each got sugar cones with their favorite two scoops of ice cream. Each scoop a different flavor.
Bobby knew something was up. Both his parents had been quiet the entire drive from home to the ice cream parlor. His dad seemed more subdued than normal, too quiet. Bobby knew his mom must have talked some more to his dad and they were taking him out for ice cream, his favorite treat, so his dad could tell him how disappointed he was in his son. Maybe this night would be "the talk" where they would tell him they were getting a divorce. Already his eyes were starting to tear up and he had to constantly wipe his eyes and force himself not to think about that possibility. If it happened at all, then he could cry about it, but not before. He was glad he was in the back seat where no one could see him trying not to cry.
After Baskin Robbins they walked down the street to a small community park and his dad sat down in one of the swings and invited him to sit on the one next to him. Side-by-side the father and son slowly moved back-and-forth, neither one swinging much. Finally, his dad cleared his throat and spoke, but didn't look over at Bobby.
"A while back Mom and I discussed what you confided in her. I know you probably heard us talking, since I wasn't all that quiet during that discussion. I have to admit it isn't something I saw coming and it's not exactly something I can say I wanted to see for one of my sons.
"I suppose I should have known this was going to come up one day, since you always have liked playing with Annie's dolls more than the trucks and Hot Wheels and other typical 'boy toys' we've always bought for you. Well, I've always bought for you. Your mother seems to have known beforehand that you were going to be this way. I know you always liked playing dress-up in Mom's clothes when you were little, but I thought it was just a phase you were going through and you'd out-grow it eventually."
Bobby listened silently. He knew this was something his dad needed to get said without interruption. Besides, Bobby couldn't have said anything even if he'd had anything to say. His throat was too constricted. He knew his relationship with his dad was over and he'd never again hear his dad tell him he loved him at night when he went to bed or any other time. How could his dad love a son who wanted to become a girl?
"I know you've never been interested in sports," his dad continued saying. "But I have to admit that sports weren't all that interesting to me as a kid, either. I spent more time reading or drawing or..." he fell silent a moment before continuing. "But this isn't about me, Bobby. It's about you. It's about your life. And what's best for you so you can grow up to be the best - person you can." Then his voice caught and he had to stop speaking a moment while he worked up enough saliva to continue.
Tears welled up and began to leak from Bobby's eyes. He glanced over at his dad and noticed a tear slowly trickling down his cheek, too.
"It's something that will take me a while to adjust to, so..." he caught himself before saying "son" and changed what he was about to say, "Bobby," he corrected his speech. "If you're absolutely certain this is what you want, then Mom and I are willing to do some research on it and talk to doctors about what's entailed in getting a - gender reassignment." His voice broke at his point and he stopped talking.
Bobby's eyes popped open wide. He turned and looked hard at his dad. Had he heard what he thought he had? Did his dad just tell him he wasn't disappointed in him wanting to be a girl?
Slowly Bobby's dad looked over at his son and smiled. It wasn't a big smile and it wasn't something that had a lot of humor in it, or any humor at all, what with his lips pinched tight the way they were, but it was as much of a smile as he could muster at this moment.
"I still love you, Bobby, and I always will, no matter whether you're my son or my - daughter."
Bobby leapt from the swing and ran over to his dad. He threw his arms about his dad's neck and hugged him tight. His dad wrapped his arms about his son and held him to him. Together they cried.
A moment later Bobby's mom came over and knelt next to them. She held onto both her husband and son and they all hugged one another.
Over the next few months the three of them spent a lot of time researching gender reassignments even more thoroughly. They made appointments with doctors who were able to tell them more than they could learn from reading about the subject and were told all the pros and cons about what to expect and what to do in order to prepare for something as life-changing as this.
Finally an appointment was made for Bobby to visit with a psychiatrist they'd been recommended to and who specialized in sex change patients. He was nervous the first time he went in to see the doctor and was surprised when he found out the psychiatrist was a female. Somehow he pictured this doctor as being a gruff older man. Instead she was a very nice woman who wasn't much older than his mom.
The doctor asked him lots of questions about his childhood, about the types of toys he liked to play with throughout his earlier years and he answered truthfully. She also asked him a lot about who he liked playing with more, his sister or his brother, and he admitted he had always preferred playing with his sister, even though as she grew older and entered her teen years five years before he had entered his, she had stopped playing with him in favor of spending more time with her girlfriends, discussing boys they liked and talking about typical girl things.
Bobby told how he had tried insinuating himself into those times when his sister and her friends were at their house, and how sometimes her girlfriends used this smaller boy who had always been fairly small for his age, as a toy and dressed him up in his sister's old clothes that were too small for her. He let them; enjoying being made up to look like a girl and the girls doing the dressing up always laughed and had lots of fun with their "living doll". But after a while his sister always insisted he leave the room and let the girls have their time alone.
The doctor asked him if he knew when he had first felt the desire to be a girl and he told her he had always wanted to be a girl, that even when he was as little as he could remember, which was about four years old, that he had liked the prettier things his sister had and wanted pink things instead of blue or green or any other color. Pink was his favorite color and he hated that he always got other colors that were considered more "boyish", whenever he had birthdays or on Christmas.
For a couple of months Bobby visited this doctor once a week. Sometimes his parents visited the doctor together without Bobby and sometimes his parents each went in alone. Then the psychiatrist scheduled a time when all three of them, Bobby, his mom and his dad, met together with her. She told them that in her assessment of Bobby she recommended having a sexual reassignment. That Bobby, who from this point on would be known as Brooke, since that was the name she (speaking of Bobby in the chosen and preferred gender at this point) herself had chosen and wanted to be known as, could start with the hormone therapy that would arrest the male androgens developing in her young, teenage body and begin to develop Brooke as the girl she should have been.
At that moment Mr. McKellogg seemed slightly taken back by the announcement and looked as though he himself might start crying, but by the time the session was over, both parents were pleased with the decision and agreed that they would do everything possible to help Brooke to become the girl she was always meant to be.
The doctor had thoroughly gone over all the details of how the sexual reassignment was to take place and what stages were to come in what order, and both parents needed to be present at such times as buying the new wardrobe for their daughter, so she would know that each of them supported her as much as the other.
Brooke had been growing her hair longer ever since that first day at the playground when her dad had discussed this issue with her and told her he loved her. By this time her hair was almost down to her shoulders, but it wasn't anything that really looked at all that feminine. Just longer, straight, dirty blonde hair. The first thing her mother did was make an appointment at the beauty parlor she visited in order to get Brooke a decent style. Mr. McKellogg dropped his wife and daughter, with Brooke dressed in some of her sister's old clothes, so she at least looked like a girl, off at the beauty shop. When he picked them up an hour later he was amazed at how truly feminine Brooke actually looked with this new hair cut. Her hair was curled under and lightened so it was more blonde than before. It looked great and he had to admit his son no longer looked like a boy.
He had felt a slight twinge when he'd first seen Brooke looking so pretty and feminine that day. Deep inside he still thought of her as his son and it hurt him to see his little boy changing this way. But he kept his thoughts and emotions to himself, knowing Brooke needed his full support and he could give that only by retraining his brain to think of Bobby as Brooke; his son as his daughter.
"I guess it's a good thing the men in my family have always been slender and small, isn't it?" he said in the tenor voice that proved they also had high voices for males.
Brooke smiled at her dad's remark as they drove to the department store so she could buy her new clothes. It was the middle of summer, so the clothes that were bought for Brooke now would also be the clothes she would wear for school this next year. For the first time in her life Brooke was able to try on dresses and skirts in public without anyone thinking something was "wrong with this boy". Now she was a girl, at least as much as she could be at this stage in her development of this process.
When they left the store that day Brooke was dressed in one of her new outfits and she gaily skipped through the parking lot all the way to the car, pleased to be able to show herself off as the girl she had always known she was inside.
Back at home was a different matter. Jordan hadn't been spending as much time at home as he used to. He didn't want his friends coming over and seeing his little brother dressed as a girl. Jordan knew that the guys would all think he was as "queer" as his brother and that wouldn't do, since he was playing on the high school football team this coming year. But Mr. and Mrs. McKellogg insisted that both Jordan and Annie be home when they returned from the store with Brooke dressed up and in her new hair style and clothes. They wanted their entire family supporting Brooke's decision.
Annie had thought it as odd as Jordan at first, but after the first few weeks of the psychiatric sessions, some of which both of the older siblings had been required to attend, had started warming up to the idea of having a little sister, instead of a little brother. Finally all those years of Bobby playing dress-up with her old clothes made sense to her and she agreed to be supportive.
When Brooke came home with her new hair style and clothes, Jordan took one look and his face turned red. He quickly turned away and vanished into his bedroom, slamming the door. Just before he entered the room they could all hear him say out loud, "That little queer's not sharing a room with me any more."
Don and Amanda McKellogg both looked at one another. The bedroom situation was something they hadn't thought of. Ever since Bobby had been old enough to sleep in a bed he had shared a room with his brother. It wasn't that the McKellogg family was too poor to afford a house with three bedrooms, but that they had only planned on having two children and had purchased this house with that number in mind. When Amanda McKellogg had gotten pregnant with Bobby it had been completely unexpected. They had never gotten around to shopping for a new house that could accommodate a bigger family. It hadn't seemed necessary, since both of the boys were able to share a room.
"That's okay," Annie smiled as she straightened out the blouse Brooke wore, "Brooke can move into my room with me."
"Are you sure, honey?" their mom knelt down so she could look at eye-level with the two girls who were sitting on the living room floor.
"Sure, Mom," Annie said cheerfully. "After all, I'll be going off to college in another year, and then Brooke will have a room all to herself. In the mean time, I can get to know my little sister all over in a different way."
The McKelloggs all wrapped their arms about one another and had a family hug. Everyone except Jordan.
Chapter Four
When Brooke started her new school year it was at a different school than the one she'd gone to the previous year. That decision had been made so she could start off her life as a girl at a school where no one knew anything about her. The principal had been informed of Brooke's "special status", but she had accepted the information with aplomb and assured Don and Amanda McKellogg that the information would be withheld from everyone else, including teachers.
Naturally Brooke had not been scheduled for a PE class, since that entailed changing clothes in a locker room with other girls, and the principal, as well as Brooke's parents, agreed that some of the parents of these girls could get upset if it was discovered that a child who was still physically a boy had been placed in the same PE class as their daughters. The McKelloggs knew it would take more time before their daughter would be accepted by everyone around her.
At least outwardly Brooke appeared no different than any other thirteen year-old girl as she entered the eighth grade. Finally she was able to carry her books with both her arms crossed over her chest without anyone telling her how queer she looked. This was how she was supposed to look, and she was perfectly happy with her new school.
Ever since making the decision to dress and act as a girl, Brooke had been more cheerful, happier; she smiled a lot more and never once thought of suicide as she had back when she thought her parents might get divorced on her account. She sauntered down the hallway of her new school her first day in it, her slim hips sashaying side-to-side the way she had always wanted to do - the way she had seen so many girls do in the old movies she always enjoyed watching on TV. She knew swinging her hips this way was the feminine way to walk and she loved being feminine.
"Hey, you new in this school?" a boy came up beside her as she turned the dial on the combination lock of her locker.
Brooke looked the boy over and decided she liked how he looked. He was at least a year older than her and much taller, since, like her mother, Brooke was short. Actually her mother, at five-feet two inches tall, was only three inches shorter than her father. Brooke looked this boy over and decided he must be an athlete. Maybe he even played football. Wouldn't it be great to date a football player, she thought as she smiled and nodded her head. Then she told herself to slow down on her thinking. She had never even thought of boys in any way other than as friends, and now she was thinking about dating them. How weird was that?
"What's your name? I'm Hank," the boy leaned with his hand against the locker so he loomed over this slender, pretty girl with the beautiful blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.
"Brooke," she blushed as she said her name, enjoying how it sounded coming off her tongue for the first time in this new school.
"Pretty name," Hank leaned in close and seemed to sniff her hair. "Nice perfume you're wearing. Sexy. Nice lipstick, too." Hank leaned forward toward her face and Brooke found herself afraid he was about to kiss her. She wasn't sure she was ready for that, but she didn't want to do anything that might make someone think she wasn't like any other girl, so she pushed her face forward and their lips met - briefly.
Brooke turned her head away in embarrassment as she pulled away from her first, even if very brief, kiss with a boy.
Hank seemed intoxicated by the kiss, no matter how slight it had been. "Let me carry those books for ya," he reached forward and took her books out of her hand without waiting for her approval. "Which way you going to class?" he asked.
"I..." Brooke wasn't sure. She pulled out the slip of paper that had her class assignments listed on it. American History was listed first. Hank looked at the list.
"Mr. Henderson's class. That's down this way. C'mon, I'll walk you over there." He turned and led the way, moving almost too fast in his haste to impress this new girl who seemed somewhat shy, but hadn't been too shy to kiss him.
"I have to get to my class," Hank said at the door of the classroom. "But I saw you have first lunch period. Me, too. I can meet you for lunch and we can talk about the other classes you have today, or anything else you wanna talk about."
"That's sounds fun," Brooke said in a small, quiet voice as Hank handed over her books and headed off down the hall. For the rest of the morning it was all she could do to keep from thinking about Hank. He seemed like such a warm, caring boy. And he liked her just the way she was!
At lunch she carried her lunch tray over to a table where two other girls she had met in her third period class already sat. Their names were Tina and Cassy, short for Martina and Cassandra, respectively. By now she had almost forgotten about Hank, what with meeting new girls who accepted her as one of them and were too eager to make friends and tell her all about what this school was like and who to watch out for.
Then Hank came up to the table with his tray and sat down across from Brooke. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, but both Tina and Cassy grew quiet when he sat down.