It has been a wet spring, and everyone’s tired of staying inside. I like video games as well as reading, but I can only do so much of either. I’m a twelve-year-old boy with a great imagination that causes me to do more than kids older than me. The sledding hills of winter had been calling me to get out a disc and treat our sled hill as a water ride. That starts well, as a good number of us have the same idea.

Most of the guys quit after it became muddy, but I see myself in competition with two guys who have just outdone me. I decided to give it one more time.

I take a longer, faster run and make a great belly dive onto the disk. When my disk and I separate going down the hill, I pass the grassy area and into the muddy part before the pond. I make it back up to the top when someone dares us to run and take a sliding dive down the hill. It’s me against Jurgens, and I won't back down from dares. Jurgens is a seventh-grader, and I always relish beating someone older than me. It never happened enough to suit me.

Jurgens goes first and does well enough that I need to try my hardest, so I take a long run before I leap and dive headfirst onto my belly down the hill. I’m ready for the thud of hitting the ground. I keep my feet up so they won’t drag me down. I feel some mud going down my pants, but I don’t mind as I’m easily beating out Jurgens.

It’s a little difficult to get up as my pants want to slide down my butt. Even my underpants are filthy. I have worn a new belt that I can’t tighten enough to hold up my pants. My older brothers got a ride, but I was too dirty for any car, and even a policeman said I needed to walk home. Doesn’t one realize how far the home is on a regular walk? It becomes more apparent as I’m holding up muddy pants. I didn’t get tired until after passing school, so it is less than half a mile to home.

Okay, I am not as tough as I sound. I don’t mind crying because my face is too wet and filthy for anyone to tell. I don’t like the idea of asking for help, but I still have ten blocks to go. And I know that I’ll be harassed by my brothers once I get there, and might even be forced to stay outside until Mom gets home.

I walked up and rang the doorbell at the Sinclair house. I know Trudy and Melanie’s Mom doesn’t work, so she should be home. Trudy is a good three years younger than me; when she answers the door, she laughs and says, “We don’t want any.” I could hear her laughing as she went running, calling her Mom. I wait. Melanie’s the one in my grade.

Mrs. Sinclair might not want to help me, but I am pretty sure she will. I introduced myself, “Mrs. Sinclair, I am Timothy Martin, and I need help getting home to 233 Rock Street.” I even cry a little, okay, more than a little.

Mrs. Sinclair says, “I don’t know what I can do to help you? You are way too muddy to ride in my car, plus I don’t have any clothes for a boy.”

“Do you want me to call your mother and see if she can pick you up and get you home?”

Sadly, I say, “My mom’s working, and this morning she said it was going to be a very busy, important day. She told my brothers and me to make sure we didn’t get into trouble.” Mrs. Sinclair wants to giggle at my predicament, but she doesn’t.

“So you are covered in mud, how does that go along with what your mother said?”

I told her, “Well, I am a boy, and sometimes things just happen because I’m active. I didn’t mean it to happen. But when I was dared, I just had to run, jump, and slide down Montrose Hill one more time. I didn’t know mud could weigh this much.”

When Mrs. Sinclair says, “Well.” I know she’s about to give in. I wait her out. “Okay, go around the back of the house, and I will spray you down with a hose to get enough mud off of you. Hopefully, then you can make it home.”

I say, “Thanks.” I scoot around the outside of the house holding up my pants. Mrs. Sinclair shows up outside the back door of her house. Melanie is close behind her. Melanie turns on the hose, and her mother starts to spray me down. Between the hose lacking pressure and the dirt being clay and mud, not much of it is coming off; my clothes are actually getting heavier.

Mrs. Sinclair says, “Melanie, go in the house, don’t look out here. I want you to start the water in the bathtub.” Melanie does so, as Mrs. Sinclair tells me, “Take off your clothes and take that bar of soap and wash yourself down. We’ll get you as clean as possible out here.”

I do try to leave my underpants on. I got a good start, but some of the mess has caked on and won’t come off easily. I’m as good as I’m going to get before I get too cold.

“Now wrap yourself in this large old towel. We’ll get you in the house and take a good bath.” She says, “You have begun to turn blue, indicating you’re getting dangerously cold.”

I’m glad to have the large towel wrapped around me as I run into the house, as she directs me to a bathroom. Mrs. Sinclair had me keep on my underpants until I got to the bathroom. Someone is already running the bathwater with some bubble bath. I drop my underpants on an old towel.

Mrs. Sinclair opens the door a crack and asks for my mother’s phone number.

She’s outside the bathroom door, and I can hear her. “Is this Abbey Martin? …Hello, I am Mrs. Jodie Sinclair over on Maple Street. No, it isn’t an emergency as such, but your son Timothy did get himself into a predicament that needed help… Yes, he must have been sliding down the sledding hill and got himself covered royally with mud. It was bad enough that he could not hold up his pants any longer by the time he reached our house… Finally, I got him to the back of the house and tried to hose him clean, but finally, I had him get down to his underpants. They too were ungodly dirty, encased in mud as well. He is finally in the bathtub, hopefully getting clean as well as a warm-up. He had begun to turn blue while he was outside.”

“Abbey, I have one problem in that I do not have any clothes for a boy his size; I was wondering if I could have him wear some of my girls’ clothes until I get him home.”

I hear Mom say, over the phone, “Jodie, that is fine with me, though I don’t like bothering you and your daughters. He won’t acknowledge it, but he has had to do something similar when he’s been naughty. I just hope his brothers show a little mercy when you take him home.”

Mrs. Sinclair laughs lightly, “He doesn’t know yet about the clothes, but he did say his brothers would be mean to him.”

Mom tells her, “If he gives you any trouble, just say: ‘Darby Sue,’ that is enough, and I am sure he will behave then. I wish I were free to get home, as I don’t want his brothers to be cruel. …I’m sorry he’s being such a problem, but that is his problem, not yours.”

Jodie says, “Well, if you trust me, he can stay here, have lunch, and play with the girls. I am sure Trudy would like to have him to play with. I will have to keep Melanie well-behaved so she doesn’t treat him like a Ken doll. He can stay here then until you pick him up. Is that alright with you?”

“That would be great, but I might be here until 5:30, and it will take me at least thirty minutes to get there if traffic’s good. I have no trouble trusting you or your husband, Bill. I was over the Sinclair house a lot as I grew up.”

“If I weren’t sure that Timmy was safe, I would already be in the car and on my way. It could cost me a job, but in today’s world I wouldn’t chance his safety,”

“Well, I suspect you need to get going, and I need to get Darby Sue some clothes and feed my three girls some lunch.” Jodie closes the call, “You take the time you need; nothing is pressing here.”

The door to the bathroom again opens a crack. “Timothy, I am putting some clothes here. It is the best I can do for now. I called your mother, and she knows what has happened. She agrees about your brothers, so you will be staying here. You will be playing with the girls until she can pick you up.”

“Please wash really well, shampoo your hair, rinse it really well, and use the conditioner. Please do everything twice. You are to clean and rinse out the tub before you get dressed. Your mother doesn’t want you to be any trouble, do you understand?”

I said, “Yes, Ms. Sinclair, I know I am already in enough trouble.”

I wash and get clean. It actually took a second tub of clean water to do the job. The second time I shampooed and rinsed my hair, even better than the first time. The shampoo worked up a good lather after the first time, and after I rinsed and conditioned it until it was squeaky clean.

When I get out of the tub, I clean the bathtub out, and I rinse it twice as I was told. It’s not Mom clean, but I can’t see the ring, as I made sure the visible dirt went down the drain.

Once I get dried off, I get ready to put on the clothes left for me. ‘Yuck, underpants aren’t cotton or white. They don’t look like any underpants that I know. They’re a light lime green with pink trim. The T-shirt looks okay, though it’s a soft pastel yellow. That’s when I saw the pink teddy bear on the front of it as I pulled it over my head. That’s when I wondered if the panties are Trudy’s or Melanie’s. The blouse has a light pink bow and lacy edging at the top. There is no way I’m wearing this.’

I yell, “Mrs. Sinclair, don’t you have some jeans and a plain top?”

“Darby Sue, your mother said you are to cooperate; do we have an understanding?” ‘No, my Mom didn’t tell her? Well, I knew she did by what Mrs. Sinclair said.’

I knew to put on the clothes and get on with the day. There’s a short blue jeans skirt that has embroidery work, angel’s wings on it. They are snug, and I fixed my boy self, down there to minimize any pain from embarrassment.

I go out to the kitchen to see what I’m to do next.

“My, don’t you look nice. Let me get Melanie to help with your hair as I get lunch.” She calls out, “Melanie, please come here with a styling brush, and we need your help.”

Melanie quickly comes and looks me up and down, and is quite amused. “Let’s go to my room, and I will brush out your hair. What is your name?”

“You already know my name.”

Melanie turned back to her mother, “Mom, Margaret, and some other girls are to come over this afternoon. This is already the third time I’ve invited them. I don’t want to cancel this time, too.”

“Melanie, help with the hair. Tim can go to Trudy’s room and play with her; if he doesn’t want to be around you and your friends.”

Melanie’s Mom says, “Darby, is that alright with you?” She wasn’t thinking of Melanie being there. Melanie takes my hand and shows me to her room. She has me sit in front of her and brushes out my hair. Without my realizing it, she uses two barrettes in my hair. “Why did Mom call you Darby?

Without thinking, “My Mom must have said something about when I get in trouble at home. They call me Darby Sue, and I know to settle down and not cause any more trouble.”

Melanie asks, “Do they sometimes make you dress like a girl?” I become quiet, ignoring the question. “They do, don’t they? If you are around my friends and me this afternoon, it had better be as Darby.”

I speak up, “It is bad enough that you know. I don’t want them seeing me, dressed in girl clothes. I would never hear the end of it.”

Melanie asks me, “Let me hear you sound like a girl.” I respond before I thought to say, ‘I don’t have a girl’s voice.’

“That is very good, you could pass for a girl. If you don’t say too much, they won’t need to know you’re Tim. Now let’s go, I am sure my Mom has lunch ready.”

The name or calling of one Darby Sue is unique to a certain community and people from there, as a discipline used to modify poor male behavior and bring it back into line. It was their term for a modified form of petticoating. It began back in the mid-1800s. It is indicated here that the Rogerses and the Sinclairs are two families that used the discipline. But they were not the only ones. It was known and accepted in the general community, and by and large, it was not to shame the person to others.

Trudy and Mrs. Sinclair are impressed with how I look. I assumed it was because I was much cleaner.

Lunch is salads with roasted chicken bites and something called tofu. Melanie says, “Tofu doesn’t have much taste, but it helps with skin and cell growth.” Trudy suggests that the raspberry vinaigrette dressing is very good with the salad and tofu.

It’s a tasty lunch and much better than I usually have at home, but it wasn’t enough. I’m hungry, and while there aren’t more salad or chicken bits, there is the tofu, and with the raspberry dressing, it makes a small sundae-like dessert.

Mrs. Sinclair tells me to lie down and take a nap, which I do. Trudy’s room has an extra bed, so that is where I lie down. I really didn’t expect to fall asleep; I’m surprised how easily I fall asleep.

Melanie and her girlfriends are now making enough noise to wake me up.

I go to the kitchen to see what time it is. Melanie’s friend Susan comes over to me, and we introduce ourselves. “Hi.” Then she yells to others, “…Hey, Darby doesn’t have her nails painted. Melanie is quiet except for asking me, “Come sit down and enjoy Darby.” They chose a bright berry color for my fingers, and painted my toes a raspberry red and blueberry blue on every other toe.

Fifteen minutes later, Melanie’s Mom comes in talking on the phone, “I am sorry, but everyone is going to need to go home, we have a family emergency. Trudy and Melanie, your Dad will meet us at Grandma Sinclair’s, and we need to get going soon. Darby, you’re going to have to go with us or go home.”

Mrs. Sinclair says, “Darby, it would be an hour and thirty minutes before your mother can leave work, and we are traveling in the other direction.”

I say, “But I can’t go home like this and a T-shirt. Have you washed my clothes, please say yes?”

She says, “If you had gone ten minutes ago, but with your painted nails drying and mascara on, I don’t think it would be wise to take you home. And no, I had to soak your clothes before I could wash them. They finally went into the washer only minutes ago.”

She says, “Melanie, I need you to pack a few things for Darby Sue. We will have to buy some other clothes after we get there.” Melanie leaves, taking me along to pack.

Melanie pushes me out of her room with a plastic bag, “Go make sure the car is clean from papers, bottle caps, and wrappers. Check the CDs to make sure they are on their correct covers. Then make sure you have gone to the toilet and have good shoes on.”

When I come back in, Mrs. Sinclair wipes her eyes, and she’s hugging her girls. There are three packed bags, and three dresses on hangers. I take the bags out to their Nissan Pathfinder and open the back to put the three bags in. Mrs. Sinclair has the dresses, and Trudy has another bag. Melanie is already in the front passenger seat, having brought out some drinks.

Melanie put in a Taylor Swift CD, and Jodi Sinclair says, “Okay, let’s all sing along, it will make the trip go faster. Melanie, Trudy, and Ma Sinclair sing, that is, until Melanie complains. Mom Darby isn’t singing.”

“Darby Sue, I’m asking you to sing-along with us.”

“That’s a girl singing, I don’t want to. I’m no good at singing anyway.” When she insists on Darby’s cooperation, I sing. I do it with a funny voice to get my way intentionally, but Mrs. Sinclair becomes upset and wants me to sing properly.

She says, “You want to be silly. I’m sorry, but I am not putting up with that, Darby Sue.” We are on the edge of a city when she pulls into a Kohl’s parking lot. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to treat you as a girl or not. Now we will buy some clothes so you know enough to behave.”

We’re parked, and she soon has me by the hand. “If you need to talk to me, I’m now Mom Sinclair to you as well.”

She tells Melanie, “I want you to pick out a pair of panties your size with ruffles, and pick out three pairs for everyday use.” She looks at me, “You, young lady, come with me.”

I say, “Can’t I get a pair of boys’ jeans and a sweatshirt?”

She says, “That was a possibility, but you indicated that you won’t behave. Now I need to be prepared to get your cooperation.” She picks up a dress and holds it up in front of me. It is a simple red dress with spring flowers.”

I say, “This is too girly, let me at least get some jeans that Melanie can wear later.” Jodi walks me to the changing rooms, and Melanie is soon there. Jodi opens the package of panties and pulls out the pink pair. “Take these and go change into your dress. Make sure you have on that pair of panties. The dress might be a little short, you may want the protection of two panties to keep mean boys from laughing.” Melanie walks in with me to the changing room, and I tell her to get out.

She says, “My Mom needs to have the tags because you’re wearing them to Grandma Cole’s. You might be a boy, but I am big enough to beat you in a fight. I will not put up with you making my Mom feel bad! Do you hear me, Darby Sue?”

I am pretty sure I could beat her up, but I knew better than to try.

She unbuttons the top of my blouse and loosens my belt. “You can turn around, so I don’t see your little boy thing.” I am ready to protest, but Melanie shows a fist. I turn around to take what I have on and off. I hear Melanie taking off the stickers as she hands me the pair of pink panties. They only have ruffles on one side, which I guess are the back of the panties. I put the plain white panties inside it, I slip them on, and fix myself once again.

Melanie says, “Turn around and lift your arms. You can help me put on your pretty dress.” I have settled down and do as I’m told. “Good, the dainty boy top will look nice under the dress.” She and I pull the dress down, and I even help to smooth it out. Melanie says, “I take it your mother has a dress for you at your house?” She pauses until I acknowledge that I do have one. “Now turn around, and I will button up your dress.”

She says, “You know you’re big enough that you should be wearing a training bra. You don’t want to look like you are my sister’s age. You’re too tall.” A pair of pantyhose is put under the door, and Melanie tells me to sit down. She shows me how to roll up the legs to the toes. I place my foot one at a time, clear to the toe area. She guides me in rolling them up and keeping them stretched. She has me stop just below the knee. “Now begin the other foot and rolling up the other leg. Too bad you don’t have open-toe shoes, your feet look really pretty.” I had to put the pair of shoes I was wearing back on.

Melanie reaches into her purse, “Pout your lips.” I think of saying something, but Melanie stares like she is upset. I purse my lips, and she uses a little lipstick on me.

She brushes my hair back how she likes it. And we leave the changing room.

Mrs. Sinclair says, “It looks like you are in the mood to behave. I’m glad. Now, does anyone need to use the bathroom before we check out and go?”

“I need to, but I’m not going in the bathroom like this.” Mrs. Sinclair hands Melanie the bag with my clothes in them and she takes me into the women’s restroom. I look down as two teenage girls are primping themselves, and I’m embarrassed. I go into the stall, and I need to pull down my pantyhose and panties. And as I am, I need to sit down on the toilet seat to go. I only pee, but I hear Ma Sinclair whisper for me to wipe my front. It seems strange, but I do it and drop the toilet paper into the water. I pulled up my panties and pantyhose, but don’t pay attention to it, not feeling right.

I hurry out of the toilet to the sink and wash my hands. Mom is there when I turn around, saying, “You didn’t take care of how you pulled up your pantyhose.”

One teenager is still there, “Be patient, Mom. Once she thinks of boys looking to see how pretty she is, she’ll learn better. She will learn to do a much better job.” The girl bends down to look at me, “Take it from me, you are pretty enough that the boys are already looking.”

I know I should say thank you, so I do. She turned to Mom, “Would it be okay if I put a dab of blush on her cheeks?” Mom had said yes, the blush is soon in place, and I’m turned around to see myself in the mirror. There is now little, if any, trace of Tim.

Melanie and Trudy are both smiling when they see me.

We are back in the car on our way to Grandma Coles. We’re singing, and I am cooperating. Mrs. Sinclair receives a call from her husband, and Mr. Sinclair says, “I’m with my Mom, but Grandma could use a woman’s touch.” So we go directly to the Sinclair home.

Mr. Sinclair has two sisters and their families that should be coming, but it will be tomorrow morning or late tomorrow before they’re each there. His sister Karen has two daughters, both teenagers, and one son who is twelve. Connie has a son and daughters as well as her husband, Jeff. His cousin Marie was there and will be back; she needed to get her two girls from school.

We arrive, and all of us have to go into the house. Ma Sinclair tells me to stay out of sight and not to talk to anyone. She didn’t give any reason, and I’m nervous apart from Melanie. So I follow her as close as possible.

The elder Mrs. Sinclair is at least sixty-five, but she looks much younger than my grandma. She cries in Ma Sinclair’s arms, “He was too young to die, I’m not ready for him to be gone.”

Seemingly, he was ill and had an unexpected heart attack. His chair had a pad on it, and everyone understands not to sit there, except me. Melanie and Trudy naturally go and hug their Grandmother. Grandma Katherine Sinclair noticed me and realized I came with Jodie and her granddaughters. She asks, “And who is this darling girl?”

When I’m introduced as Darby Sue Martin, Grandma takes a closer look. “She looks to be a girl to me; I’d suggest you call her just Denise or something else. If we call her Darby or Darby Sue, there are enough people around here who might wonder if she’s a boy.”

Grandma hugs me and then tells Melanie. “You know where the extra things are, go and help her to look the way she should for being thirteen.” I want to say ‘No,’ but I knew it would have been rude and I’d get into trouble by not doing as told.

Melanie takes me to an extra room, saying, “We usually stay in this room if we stay here. This time, I suggest you take everything off. You should be wearing your panties over your pantyhose anyway.” I am soon naked and not even mindful that I should be embarrassed. I have my pantyhose and panty back on, and Melanie has found a small bra. She holds it up for me to put my arms through the straps. And she helps hook it in the back and places a small sock in each cup.

Melanie looks at me, “So are you okay with being Denise or would you prefer Dana?” I say, “Shouldn’t it be Darby Sue?”

And Mel finally says, “You’re going to mess up with that. Let’s call you Danica Martin instead. You’ll be a distant cousin.”

The emergency is that Mr. Sinclair’s father has died, and those who are usually nearby are out of town and unable to be reached.

Jodi’s mom calls her Mom, and we’re on our way there. And Jodi tells her, “My Father-in-Law Larry died earlier in the day. Mom, I’ve come up to be with Claire Sinclair until Paul’s Sister Karen can get there and the rest of them arrive tomorrow. I want to give her as much support as I can.

“Along with my girls, I’m bringing another girl.” She says, “Listen for a moment, Mom, remember Abbie Hammer, she’s now Abbey Martin, her youngest daughter has come with us, to the Sinclairs. …Her name is Darby… How did you know she’s called Darby Sue?

“I didn’t think she would have known about Kevin Sinclair. …So was it you that she got the idea from or us from them? …Well, yes, as soon as I called her Darby Sue, she became precious. …Abbey told me she will have a credit line at two stores for me, plus a cash advance that I am to use for extras.”

‘’Yes, Mom, that would be helpful for me. You can take Danica and Melanie shopping tomorrow morning. I will have them ready for you by 9:30 a.m. …Okay, they will be ready by 8:00 and go to breakfast with you. …Yes, her hair is long for a boy, but I don’t think she will like that idea. …I just don’t want any headaches with the funeral coming up, or else I’d let him be Timmy.”

I swear, as I get changed, I feel like I’m more girly, and that my body is turning soft. Melanie’s Grandmother Cole, and Aunt Cherise come to pick us up. “You young women need to come with us and go shopping for clothes. I start to give them a hard time, but Aunt Cherise steps forward and lays down the law to me. “Listen, cutie, my sister did you a favor, and she now has enough to do. You are going shopping with me, and we’re getting some pretty clothes for you. Need I remind you that on this trip you’re a seventh-grade girl?”

Her daughter Madison, smiles as she helps me get to the car. She’s in seventh grade, and I’m not sure she knows if I’m a boy or not. “My mother says you’re a goofy tom-boy that Aunt Jodi’s helping. Mom wants us to girlify you some more. So you’ll fit in.” We go to an apartment store to the young teen section. They have my mother’s approval to put things on her store card. Madison is the first in the store to ask me if I have a bra with me. This leads to the purchase of another bra and a bunch of panties. I try to refuse another pair of pantyhose. But it becomes another two pairs with my protest and a pair of stockings that are to stay up on their own. The result is that I begin to cooperate.

Aunt Cherise and Madi take me to the cosmetic counter. This is not to be a major stop, but I do get two sticks of lip gloss and matching nail polish. Cherise gives my lips a nice coat of fresh lip gloss, as she calls it. I am not used to my lips feeling moist and a little sticky. With Aunt Cherise’s help, I try on a skirt and a print blouse that they’re purchasing for me. She wants me to wear my new bra. ‘My bra,’ there was something terribly wrong with that, and I told her.

I huffed once too often at Aunt Cherise. Soon, we have two outfits and another dress; Aunt Cherise has me quickly in tow. I am not sure where I am going, but I’m fairly sure it is not good for me. Next door to the store is a salon, and I’m soon in it.

“Now, am I going to have your cooperation?” She then whispers, “Do you want people around here to know you’re a boy? You might be surprised that I know your Mom and your Grandmother, and Grandfather Rogers.”

She steps back and awaits my answer to her original question about my cooperation. A woman named Debbie comes up to me. “Madi is already with April, so young lady, I welcome you to our salon. Have you been to a salon before?”

“No, Ma'am.” I am now pretty sure she knows I’m not a girl. “But I’ve been told I need to cooperate and be a good girl.”

Debbie asks, “And what can I do for you?”

Not sure, I only know my mother usually talks about getting a permanent. “So I’m to get a permanent, but I don’t know more than that.”

Debbie hands me a magazine and turns it to a section on perms. “Are you sure a perm is what you want? There’s a good selection here, but I don’t want to push one on you.”

I ask, “Do you mean I wouldn’t look good or that my hair's too short?”

Debbie says, “No, you have very pretty hair. I see you’ve shampooed it recently, but it doesn’t look like you’ve ever had your hair properly cared for. I can do most of those shorter styles in the magazine and a lot more. I just want you to be happy.”

I look over to Aunt Cherise and then start to browse the magazine. Thinking about when I go back home. I know I will be teased if and when my brothers ever find out. “I know I don’t want tight curls.” It takes a few minutes, but I select three. “Ms. Deb, which of these will be easiest for me to take care of? I might be going to a funeral, and I don’t want to be a fuss to others, but I’m not used to taking care of my hair.”

Debbie looks and points to one, “I think this would be both easy to care for and would look cute on you. What do you say, Cherise?”

Cherise says, “It’s her choice. I was going to select something simple, but that is a good choice.”

I say, “I once went with my mother when she went to a salon. A girl was having her hair done, and the woman allowed the girl to hand curlers, pins, and combs to her.”

Deb’s face lights up, “Would you like to do that?” She said, “You have shampooed your hair recently, but I’d like to shampoo and use a good conditioner to add something to your hair. Would you mind if we do that first?”

It’s the first time someone is really treating me nicely and asking if something is okay. I like that. I say, “I’m glad I got you. I’m sure my mother will be happy that I got you to help me.”

Once she’s done conditioning my hair and has gotten some of the water out, she begins to comb it out. She’s put a tray of curlers and pins in my lap for me to hand to her.

She combs the front of my hair down over my face and cuts it straight across. “I am going to cut a little here and there to fit the style you desire.”

She brushes some goo onto areas of hair she has combed, curls it, and covers it with foil. I guess that is for the highlights I saw in the stylebook. I would have stopped her, but after one was done, I thought she needed to do several sections.

I didn’t understand why Madison was done way before me. Cherise asks if she can go back to the store to shop with Madison. Deb says, “This young girl has twenty minutes under the dryer as well as being combed out. You might as well go do whatever you need. She’ll be staying here with me.”

I pick up a fashion magazine and see various outfits and dresses, wondering which would look good on me, if any. When Deb comes over to check on me, I ask her opinion. She asks me how many dress and skirt outfits I have. When I say none. She says, “Oh, I can’t believe that is true.”

I realize it sounds like I’m destitute, so I say something more. “We received an emergency call to come up here because my Aunt’s Grandfather died. I didn’t have any clothes there to wear. That’s why I have to go through all this fuss.”

Debbie says, “So others are paying for all these clothes and your hair appointment.”

“My Mom is going to cover it all and give strict orders for me to behave. That isn’t usually very easy for me. Aunt Jodie seems like she has dealt with people like me. I am trying to relax and enjoy all this. I just don’t want others back home finding out about what I’m having to do. My reputation would be shot.”

Debbie says, “With the way you’re behaving, it looks like you’re enjoying yourself. Or do I have that wrong?”

“I do kind of like it, but you can’t tell anyone else, especially when I protest a little.” Debbie agrees it will be our secret.

To be continued…