Road Trip
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

We had always talked about doing it, fresh out a high school and before committing ourselves to three years at college – the Great American Road Trip. Just the two us and a Kombi van that my uncle said we could have if we got it working. Just me and my best pal since Elementary School – Andrew Logan.

We had savings but our plan was to get any work going – like pushing broom in “King of the Road” or even harder work, if necessary. It was just that Ands was even scrawnier than I was, so we had to be open to anything. That slight build was just part of it. Some people saw him differently from what I did, which is what led to the comment that somebody made – “Your girlfriend might be able to help” - referring to Ands. I just never saw him that way … at least, not then.

We said that we were going to travel light – tee-shirts, shorts and sandals, we would pick up what we needed from second hand stores, including warmer gear as the latitude and the seasons required.

I had a haircut before we left but Ands didn’t bother. He talked about having the wind in his hair as we drove, but we were in a van. But it still felt like freedom. The music played and the scenery sped past, and we stopped where we liked, and just drank it all in.

We had a mattress in the back and we shared that, sleeping back to back. It seemed easier than trying to camp and cheaper that even the roughest motel. We just needed to park near somewhere to piss, and have some water to wash with and scrub our teeth.

We really didn’t feel like working at the beginning. We had money and it even seemed that we could score free meals from strangers just by being charming, and telling people about our adventure, even before it had really happened. But there came a time when we decided that in the very next town we stopped in, we would need to get work.

It was a small town but the people seemed friendly in the café we stopped in. We asked for cups of hot water because coffee was too expensive, and sat at the counter talking about our need to work.

The lady behind the counter said that a local shopkeeper was moving premises two doors down and would happily pay me to help him with some heavy lifting – “But, it’s not work for a young lady so perhaps you can give me a hand here in the café?” She was talking to Ands who hadn’t spoken a word.

I laughed, and so did Ands. I explained to the lady that it was not the first time he had been mistaken for being a girl. The woman seemed puzzled.

“With those pretty red curls, you should be,” said the lady. “When can you start?”

That was really when things started to get weird. I went down the road to help Ned Hopkins with his move and Ands stayed at the café. I was busy that whole day, so I did not get back to the café until dark. I walked in and there was Ands behind the counter wearing a dress!

But he said that maybe instead of cutting his red curls maybe he should “lean into it” and see what work came his way. He suggested that while he looked the way he did at the café I should drop the DS and just call him Ann, or Annie.

We stopped at a charity shop and he picked up a few things, including that floral romper suit thing. He just said that it was easy to wear, which seemed funny because it was button up at the back and he was always asking me to help him button up or unbutton.

I made my work for Ned Hopkins spin out for over a week helping him to set up, but then I was done and it was time for us to collect the last of our pay and move on. Annie said that it would be sad to leave, with that town being so friendly and accepting, but my words were – “It’s a big country and we have seen much of it yet.” Annie had to agree.

It was just that we discovered at the next place we stopped, “she” could get a job more easily than I could, and easier jobs to do as well. It seemed as though Annie was enjoying pretending to be a girl, and it was easier for her to be her than perhaps either of us expected.

When you are always on the move you never have an address for stuff to be sent to, and it always seemed to me that it was part of the adventure – addresses tie you down. But at one point we had to double back to collect a package that Annie had ordered. I felt that I needed to know what was so important that it meant breaking our never-look-back code. She only said that it was a package of drugs that she needed, as if that answered everything. It only raised more questions, so I kept asking.

“It’s hormones, OK!” she said. “It is just easier for me to get work if people think I am a girl, and this stuff will help with that. Plus, it seems easier for us to pass ourselves off as a couple, don’t you think?”

“Are we a couple?” I said. It was meant to be a facetious comment, but it changed everything between us.

“If that is what you want, then maybe,” she said.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there, looking like a fool. She turned away, her red hair shining like fire in the setting sun. She was wearing that outfit and her body was already great, even before those hormones kicked in.

You might say that she was leaving me with decision to make, but the truth is that there really was no choice at all. The thing about a trip like that is that it is not about seeing the sights or even meeting the people – it is about self-discovery. In that moment I think we both discovered ourselves. She was not a man – she was a woman. And I discovered I was the man in love with her.

The End
1079

© Maryanne Peters 2026

Author's Note: I am really wondering whether I should post these vignettes drawn from odd AI images, as I am not getting much feedback from readers. I post more on another site, but ones like this I consider worthy of posting here, if readers want them (?).