Transitions Read online

  “Not in my vast experience with the gender,” Milo said.

  “Women don’t either,” Erika added.

  “Certainly not.”

  “Of course, I’m still not sure exactly what we’re talking about.” Tom Alan stopped to caress Milo’s hairy tummy as he passed him again. He took hold of Milo’s MTA token, then let it settle back in more lush, black fur.

  “Something about male versus female genitalia,” Milo said. “And my last word on the subject is this: I like willies. I’ve grown accustomed to mine, and believe I’ll keep it. Is this about Kensuke?” Milo turned his attention from his dick to the dishwasher.

  “Does he cross-dress?” Tom Alan asked like a gossipy church lady.

  “Indirectly, Milo. And no, Tom Alan. Not that I know of.”

  “Then what? Is it Hockey Puck? When you didn’t show up last night, he sucked off a Craigslist fag, didn’t he?”

  Erika’s pulse started pounding. “Shut up.”

  “Another homo, Flower.” Milo shook his head. “You sure can pick ‘em.”

  Tom Alan laughed.

  “Hence the Drag Race mention. He’s signing up, I bet. I’m not sure there’s enough makeup on planet Earth to make Willie Wahl pretty. And first time he yanks off the duct tape too hard…” The sound as Milo tore the dishtowel affixed with a loop of Velcro from the refrigerator door handle was almost painful. “Oh no! Willie tore his off!”

  Tom Alan had the nerve to laugh again.

  “Maybe we better get ahead of the game, loves, and get him on that registry some politicians seem to want so they can monitor every chick with a dick or bloke without one who tries to use the public bathroom.”

  Erika’s heart leapt into her throat. She’d heard the kitchen door swing open, but not in time to shut Milo up. Jesse ran off in a blur.

  “Asshole!”

  “What happened?”

  “You can be such a jerk.” Erika headed after Jesse. Just before the stairs, they smacked right into Kyoko returning from her walk with Etsuko.

  “What is all this?”

  “I want to go home.” Jesse’s arms were tightly folded across his chest. They rose and fell as he heaved to catch his breath between sobs.

  “Why, precious one? What’s happened since I’ve been gone?”

  “Jesse heard something, Okaasan, something unintentionally hurtful. Milo didn’t mean anything by it, Jesse.”

  “I can’t believe Milo would ever hurt another soul,” Kyoko confirmed. “Not deliberately.”

  “Can I just go?”

  “Go where? And in this state?” Though Jesse allowed Kyoko to guide her back inside and close the door, he looked ready to bolt. Every access was blocked, though, since Milo had circled around to come down the front stairs and Tom Alan was in the archway between the two rooms.

  “Where’s my other shirt?” Jesse wore just a short-sleeved one with his jeans.

  “I gathered some laundry,” Milo said. “It was on the bathroom floor.”

  “Are you cold?” Erika asked.

  “A little.”

  Erika opened the closet beside the front door and grabbed a pink hoodie. She hesitated then put it back and grabbed a black one instead. “Here.” She handed it to Jesse.

  “Oh.”

  Erika turned to Tom Alan. She saw in his face that he’d gotten it.

  “I’ve got to get ready for school. Seems like I need it.” Maybe Milo knew now as well. “I’m really sorry, Jesse.” He headed back up the stairs.

  “Have you eaten?” Kyoko asked.

  Jesse shook his head.

  “There are pancakes,” Tom Alan said. “Blueberry.” If Tom Alan’s smile couldn’t win Jesse back, Erika doubted anything could. He nodded toward the kitchen and squinted affectionately, like Twizzle and Flip might. “Three, six, or ten?”

  The sorrow broke for a moment. “Three.” Jesse almost smiled back, then he took Tom Alan’s hand and disappeared through the door.

  “We have practice,” Kyoko reminded Erika, lifting Etsuko from her stroller.

  Erika stopped her mother with a hug and a kiss. Then she planted one on her little one’s head. “I love you.”

  “And I you, my heart.”

  By the time Erika got to the kitchen, Tom Alan was giving a book report on Red Badge of Courage. The novel was a favorite of his, an obsession, maybe—and that made her heart skip again.

  “Hey. I was just sharing childhood memories with Jesse.”

  “So I heard.”

  “I told him,” Jesse said. “What I told you last night.”

  “And?” Erika tried to read Tom Alan’s expression, still wondering why he had brought up the book.

  “He’s cool,” Jesse said. “I know what Milo said wasn’t about me.”

  “God, no.” Erika put her hand to her chest. “Milo is…It was a joke…not a funny one…about Billy.”

  “Yeah. Tom Alan mentioned they didn’t even know.”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d want them to—not that it’s something you should be ashamed of. I guess I would advise you to be careful who you confide in, though. It’s sad that’s the world we live in, but…”

  “That bathroom thing is just another scary part of it.” Jesse chewed his nails. “Someone somewhere is always going be against me no matter what I do. If that’s in the back of your mind all the time, it’s hard.”

  “Someone’s always going to be on your side, too, starting with us. That includes Milo.” Erika refilled her coffee cup. “Do you have a doctor? A guidance counselor? A professional you can talk to about doing this the right way?”

  “No. I just got some stuff.”

  “Stuff?”

  “Testosterone and whatever.”

  Erika cringed. “From?”

  “You know, wherever. Amazon, the health food store. They got all kinds of powders and pills I talk Kensuke into buying to bulk up more, and then I just sneak some.”

  Erika had a feeling Jesse didn’t really know what he was taking. Amazon couldn’t be selling actual testosterone. “Kensuke doesn’t know, right?”

  “No way!” Jesse looked up then. “He already thinks I’m a freak. A girl into a gay guy, what else could I be?”

  Erika took offense.

  “But at least he accepts me as that kind of freak.”

  “Jesse…you could mess up your body with some of those over-the-counter supplements. There are no regulations. The manufacturers can pretty much put anything in there and claim all sorts of results. Has anything actually worked?” Erika asked. “Do you still get your period?”

  Jesse’s expression said it all.

  “Okay. Sorry.”

  “I never really took anything long enough. I’m not stupid.”

  “No.”

  “This one pill made me so nervous I couldn’t sit still. After taking another one for two weeks, I read how it could make my breasts bigger. Bigger. I swore they were, so I stopped. And one of the powders gave me…stomach trouble.” He touched the afflicted area. Maybe he was still taking it. “I talked to some people online. There are threads and stuff. There’s a ton of, like, BS information and it gets rough sometimes, but I’ve met a few people. There seem to be more transwomen than transmen. I don’t know. That’s just what I’ve found so far. I haven’t really talked to someone in my exact shoes yet.” There were times Jesse sounded so much older than seventeen. “And there are, like, trolls and jerks who show up to be mean. The bullies online are way worse than the ones at school.”

  Erika knew that firsthand. When she and Tom Alan went through their ordeal after the Olympics, some pretty nasty things showed up on social media. She’d been featured in several memes with a scarlet letter A on her Bells of Moscow costume and #USFSFAG actually trended for a while, a take-off tag of USFSA—United States Figure Skating Association.

  “It’s like catching fish in a basket—wait. That’s not right,” Jesse said.

  “You mean shooting fish in a barrel?” Tom Alan offered
up.

  “Yeah.” Jesse giggled, but then turned serious. “The jerks know where to come so they can say the most awful stuff right to you. I, like, decided not to ever say anything to anyone at school, because that’s just painting a target on myself. I’d drop out if I could transition now. I know there are all kinds of tests and stuff they put you through first. This girl forced to live as a guy, we’re kind of tight…online. She’s pre-op, taking the right kinda pills and stuff. Things are changing, like, on…on top. She told me she slipped one time and called herself a guy. Something like, ‘Us guys went clubbing’, and her shrink went all crazy on her, like she wasn’t ready or whatever. So dumb. Her parents made her stop. Now she wants to kill herself.”

  “That’s awful,” Tom Alan said.

  “I told her she should just run away, but then she wouldn’t have any money, so…”

  “Is surgery something you want?” When Jesse nodded, Tom Alan asked, “Have you thought about how you’re going to get it done?”

  “Well, ‘cause of my mom, I’m on Medicaid. They pay for reassignment, but not, like, until you turn twenty-one. I can start the process at eighteen. That’s why I finally have to say something. I’m glad I started with you guys. I went to a clinic for a while by where we live, just, you know, for stress and whatever…that’s what I told my grandmother. They were alright and everything, but the counselor was more into Reiki and spiritual cleansing. That’s all good, but she hasn’t really been much help as far as guiding me through any of this.”

  “Maybe I can be.” Milo was at the top of the kitchen stairs, all gussied up for orientation, his expression one of definite regret. “Can I sit a minute?”

  Jesse shrugged, so Milo dragged a stool around and sat across from him at the counter, with Tom Alan and Erika on either side. “This is a safe place. I promise,” he said. “Please know that. You can be who you are here, in all your amazingness.”

  “You don’t even know me. Not really.”

  “I’ve seen you play hockey. I watched you slap shoot Kensuke under the table…the ice…whatever…the day the players came up. I’ve heard you speak, haven’t I? Last night at dinner. Granted you’re not one for many words at one time, which is something I could certainly benefit from emulating, but when you do converse, you show your intelligence and enormous strength.”

  “Until last night, all I did was hide. I wasn’t even brave talking to Erika, ask her.”

  “Bullocks. When did you hide? You went to new school and jumped right in. Good grades, singing in the choir…Right from you, I heard that at the table. You joined Billy’s hockey team, go to games and practice…help him coach the littler players on Fridays and Saturdays, is that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t see a lot of time for hiding.”

  “I guess.”

  Tom Alan and Erika both smiled at the use of his go-to phrase.

  “Coach Wahl is great, by the way.” Jesse centered his stare on Milo.

  “I agree. We’re BFFs, as kids your age say.”

  A sputter from Jesse’s lips moved several stray strands of blond hair that had escaped from the rubber band holding the rest.

  “You don’t say that?”

  “If you’re so tight, why haven’t I ever seen you at the rink when we’re there?” Jesse asked.

  “Ah. Time, I guess. People move in different directions. We maybe don’t get together like we once did.”

  “That might be my fault,” Tom Alan said.

  “We talk every day,” Milo added. “Almost.”

  “He likes you?” Jesse asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Hmm.” He sputtered again.

  “I thought maybe you could. I thought you were starting to. I like you. Go ahead…call me a wanker.”

  “A jerk,” Tom Alan translated.

  “I don’t call people names,” Jesse told them.

  “Fair enough.” Milo clasped his hands. He looked so professional. “We say in the shrink game that no one is truly unique. Everyone should have their own…shimmer. Individuality is a gift. That said, except for snowflakes, there is no such thing as one of a kind, is there? It’s important for all of us to find a colony of support—at least one other person who is likely to relate to each of our various experiences and feelings. I can’t possibly understand what you’re feeling right this minute. None of us can. Do you know anyone who might?”

  “Sort of. Maybe. Not totally. Like I told Erika and Tom Alan, most of the transgender people I’ve actually talked to are male to female. That’s close, but not quite the same.”

  “Okay. Let me know if I’m overstepping. I have another friend…”

  “Really? Two of them?”

  Erika bit the inside of her cheek.

  “Several, believe it or not. If you’re willing…if you’re interested, with your grandmother’s permission, I’d like to introduce you to some…perhaps some therapists down at NYU to start. I know the department quite well. You might find one you’ll click with. There are students close to your age as well—more than one—with whom you might find some commonality. They have support groups…friendship circles. I’d be happy to take you down…or Tom Alan could.”

  “Of course.”

  “Or Erika,” Milo added.

  “Anytime,” she said.

  “If you’ll give me another chance.”

  Jesse fidgeted but didn’t offer a response.

  “Hand me your phone.” Tom Alan reached out. Milo said nothing, but handed it over. “I want to introduce you to one of Milo’s many friends.” Tom Alan tapped the screen a couple times, and then handed the cellphone back to Milo. “I think you’ll understand when—” When it rang almost immediately, Tom Alan snatched it back, and put it on speaker. “I’m glad you were there,” he said.

  “I always answer the bat signal for Booger.” The person on the other end chuckled. “Is this the American lover?”

  “It is.” Tom Alan smiled. “I want to introduce you to Jesse. He just told us he’s been hiding his true sexual identity for quite a while.”

  “Jesse, I’m Rocky. Congratulations.”

  “Congratulations?”

  “On saying it all out loud. On the start of being who you’ve always been.”

  “Maybe you can tell Jesse how you and Milo know each other.”

  “I do love to tell a story, Tom Alan. Now, Booger and I—”

  “Booger?” Jesse asked.

  “Everyone who’s known me more than the past couple years calls me that,” Milo explained.

  “I’d been a Brit a while when I ran into this bloke and joined his little group of supposed misfits and outcasts. Spoiled school kids mostly, who thought they were something extraordinarily different. We’d hang out and get drunk on weekends and I’d always poke fun at Booger because he was a figure skater. Mind you, where I come from originally, figure skaters are revered—male and female. It’s athletics and art. I could have just as easily been tormenting him about the unruliness of his hair or some such nonsense. I was immature. It was a different time, or maybe we were just a bunch of arses with no other way to show affection. We did tease him most, because he was the runt of the litter, the only one littler than me. One night, Gus Cooper…”

  Milo smiled at the mention of the name.

  “Gus Cooper went too far. ‘Shut your gob or I’ll punch you in it,’ that’s what Booger said to him. The bloke had at least eight or nine inches on Booger and four stones.”

  “Sixty pounds,” Milo said.

  “Gus had been duly warned and when he landed on his bum on wet London pavement, well, he couldn’t say he hadn’t been.”

  Erika gasped.

  “I didn’t punch him in the face,” Milo said. “I shoved him.”

  “A gentlemen’s scuffle is what it was,” Rocky declared. “And I wanted in on it. I continued my assault, hurling the worst insults I could conjure, doubling down on the one that set Booger off with Gus, something about Booger�
�s father I dare not, nor do I wish to, repeat.

  “The alley got deathly quiet,” Rocky whispered. “Our mates, every one of them held their breath, didn’t they? Ol’ Booger was shaking. I tried to control my own chin from quivering as my glare dared him to shove me hard.”

  Erika had stopped breathing, too. Though Tom Alan was obviously familiar with the story, it was all new to her.

  “‘Shove me,’ I said. ‘If you love me, push me hard.’ I was right in his face. Do you know what happened next?”

  “What?” Jesse asked.

  “Booger gave me a shove. More or less, with barely the force one uses to brush a crumb away from his lapel.”

  “Rocky talks like he’s old,” Milo said.

  “Your commentary’s unwarranted, runt. I’m making a point. Booger threw his arms around me for a kiss right afterward, though he’d propelled me barely half a step backwards. The rest of that night gets a bit bawdy.”

  “Rocky…”

  “Moving on, Booger. It wasn’t long thereafter some wayward bloke did raise a hand to me, someone not in our group of poofs. Do forgive the word. That and similar ones were ours back then and we owned them. Words of hate we said with love, believe it or not, and also used them as armor to block them when others chose them as weapons. This thug, he called me several slurs, his fists ready to accentuate their damage with the physical kind. I feared for my life.”

  Jesse turned to Milo. Erika followed her gaze. Milo had tears in his eyes.

  “I truly did,” Rocky continued, “until Booger got between us. There wasn’t much might in our tiny runt, for sure, but he elicits a great deal of fear with just his look under certain circumstances. He’s an animal…untamed…My protector…my Booger…forever in my soul. I want you to know right off, Jesse, Booger is an ally, not an enemy, or an enemy dressed as an ally, because the world is full of those. Except for that brief moment when he wouldn’t shove me back, he never treated me like anything other than one of the blokes, no matter what anyone else called me, be it politely and out of confusion, or cruelly.”