Rascal's First Halloween
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
-1-
Down the Transgender Fiction Rabbit Hole!
I fell down the transgender fiction rabbit hole late one summers evening between my junior and senior year in high school. I can still recall how it happened, it was simple enough, it was early in the evening and mom had been invited out to dine at a local restaurant by one of her co-workers. Leaving me alone, to fend for myself. Well not really fend for myself, she had slipped me three twenty dollars bills and told me to door-dash something.
She also causally reminded me that their was a whole pot of deer stew on the stove-top and she had recently restocked the fridge. With that she said she loved me, to turn the carport light and front porch light on as soon as full darkness fell and to lock the door. She also reminded me to put my phone on charge.
Once I was sure mom was gone, as I was sure I heard the backdoor shut and I heard the click, I returned once more to my brooding. Well okay, not brooding, you see, I had nothing to do that summer evening. Most of my friends were always on some overnight church camp-out. Somewhere in the vast, wasteland called the Mississippi Delta. I don't know about you, by spending the night in a paper thin tent, out in the middle of the woods, in the middle of a Mississippi heat wave did not seem like a pleasant time. Plus, the church hosting the overnight camp-out had taken a dim view to my recent conversion to the Pagan faith.
My conversion to the Pagan faith had come when I had one sunny afternoon accepted that there was something deeply wrong with me that no priest could rectify, that no amount of reading the Holy Bible could correct. And that if, or should I say when I died, that no matter how times I'd presented myself for Holy Communion. No matter how many gallons of blessed wine that had turned into the blood of Jesus I'd drunk.
No matter many pounds of the Communion Bread I'd eaten that were suppose to turn into the physical flesh of Jesus I'd consumed, no matter how times I've read the Holy Bible from front to back. The very moment my soul left my body and reached the pearly gates of Heaven. Old, gray beard himself would have taken the greatest pleasure in pushing me toward the everlasting fires of the underworld. Were I'm sure all my favorite writers lived.
You see, I've been writing since I was fourteen years old, so that means I've a three year veteran of the craft. And in those three years I'd wandered from one forum to the other. From one writing site to the other. From Fanfiction.Net to FictionPress.Net to the wilds of Deviantart. An odyssey that had tested both my mind, body, and soul. Because I'd learned that for ever one who achieves their dream of internet stardom their a thousand or more who burn out and die.
The highways and byways of the internet were littered with the skeletons of those who had failed to reach their dreams. Anyway, the way I fell down the transgender story rabbit hole was simple. I simply googled one night “Stories about boys being turned into girls.” You see I'd recently been writing a number of half finished “Legend Of Zelda” stories featuring the main character Link, often losing a bet with either against Zelda or Malon and as a result he had to wear a dress around Hyrule Castle Market or something.
Sometimes my other stories were less amusing. Sometimes they were quite dark, I'd written a handful stories were the main character was often blackmailed, or forced otherwise into assuming the role of a girl. But these characters often retained faint elements of their quickly diminishing masculinity.
And that was what I found so amusing, so appealing about it. I'd often written my characters appearing androgynous. Androgynous but still retaining some faint elements of their masculinity. Having my androgynous character slowly have their masculinity traits beaten or trained out of them and forcing them to adapt more feminine traits was the main draw for me.
Anyway, after a hearty bowl of deer stew, like I mean a hearty bowl, like palm size, seasoned to perfection pieces of deer floating in a sea of brown broth, surrounded by chunks of russet potatoes, carrots, and some other unknown root crop, served with a huge piece of three cheese blended Texas Toast and washed down with an ice cold barque's root beer. Okay several ice cold cans of barque's rootbeer.
Anyway, in a mindless state I started to google random things. And then by chance I stumbled upon a blog. It was called “Courtney Clean Caps.” and well I decided to spend the evening just reading the things posted. After all I had nothing to better to do with my time. I'd already read any fanfiction about Link getting turned into a girl I'd deemed worthy of my attention. And well by chance I stumbled upon a link to a another story website.
The site was called “BigCloset TopShelf” and it was a treasure trove of stories. These stories were not like the other stories I'd read on other such sites such as Fanfiction.Net or FictionPress.Net or heck even Deviantart No these stories had a magic about them. A spark of life to them.
For the hour I browsed the site, I noticed that their was one main difference in the characters I wrote or read about and the characters that appeared in these stories. These characters wanted to become girls. They desire to become woman. Nobody had to force them, nobody had to blackmail them, nobody had to twist their arm.
And those stories had a magic my stories did not have.
And that is how I fell down the Transgender Fiction rabbit hole. Much like Alice, in Alice In Wonderland. I'd allowed my own curiosity get the better of me. And so I'd chanced that little white rabbit all over cyber space. From one corner of the internet to the other until at last I'd chased him or was it a her down it's own hole and had ended up in a place that was a treasure trove of stories.
Stories that I would spend the next several weeks reading, though in that time I committed the most grievous of sings any writer to commit against another writer. I read those stories without leaving a comment.
End Chapter One
Rascal's First Halloween
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
-3-
Rascal's Reflection
I thought mom was just joking when she said she'll allow me to dye my hair blue to match my cosplay. But on this lazy Thursday afternoon. I found myself sitting in a vinyl salon chair, with a heavy, salon cape draped over my shoulders and tied firmly at the back. This was my first time visiting a salon and I found the lingering chemical smell a bit weird. It was also very noisy.
But my mind was not on the noise or the harsh smell of chemicals that seemed to linger in the air, or the chatter of little old ladies getting their hair permed. Heck, I was not even bothered by the side-eye look some of those little old ladies were giving me. No, my mind was on something else.
I'd recently discovered a new mentor, her name was Aylesea Malcolm and I found her writing style enduring. I mean she wrote about places I knew, and in her stories she mentioned cities I'd been to too. I felt a certain kinship with her, as I did with most writers who wrote about the south. Also I adored the way she titled her stories. I mean, be honest with me, you know you're going to read a story called. Pillow Fighting with Kin Jong Un.
And while I was still working my way through her collection, two stories really stood out to me. A Change Will Do You Good. Was the first one that came to mind. It was kind of a tragic love story with a transgender element. I'm not ashamed to say that I found myself reading that over and over again. Though rereading made me want to drive up to Memphis and find the girl. To know beg for writing lessons.
I'm going to come out and say it, it was among my top one hundred free stories that the site hosted. The second one that really stood out to me was A Cracker Barrel Christmas. This one was my list of things to read. That aside.. one story I'd read had made me question myself.
Like I said before, I considered Emma Anna Tate the beating heart of the community, and I was slowly building myself up to read her Aria series. It was a massive four volume collection. The sheer length of it made me shake in my boots.
But returning to the matter at hand, I had recently read a story by her that haunted me. It was beautifully written, and poignant and I do not use that word lightly. It twisted my heart and made me sit down in front of my bedroom mirror and really take a deep, hard, long look at my life. The story I'm talking about was For Us, the Living.
For me the story echoed some of the sentiments that the broader transgender community would feel toward somebody like me. I was still questing myself. But this would be my second time appearing in public in crossplay. I guess I should define what crossplay is. Heck just let me copy and paste it for you.
According to Urban Dictionary, crossplay is a form of cosplay where a person dresses up as a character
of the opposite sex. It is a portmanteau of “cross-dressing” and “cosplay” commonly seen at anime conventions, pop culture events, or in online media.
Now returning to Emma Anna Tate's wonderful, For Us, the Living. After I read that, I had to wonder if I was doing the right thing. It was hard to put into words. But I felt that I was doing the main character an injustice. I did not consider myself transgender though I admit of late I'd been wondering what it would have felt like to be born a daughter of Eve instead of a son of Adam. To be chased by boys instead of chasing girls. To be courted instead of the one doing the courting. Though I would often joke that Hell would freeze over before I ever found myself with a girlfriend.
I just found myself pondering how often I could face the “Dragon” before the “Dragon” overcame me.
“Okay hon.” The woman said, taking a deep breath. “We're finished. I gotta say, I've done a lot of coloring jobs since coming here. But never have I dyed somebody's hair blue before. But I think it turned out pretty good.”
I blinked and found myself being spun toward three mirrors. I blinked as I looked at my own reflection. The reflection in the glass was not of a Hot Topic regret, nor was it the reflection of the basement dweller who spent most of his time eating Hot Pockets, Pizza Hut Pizza, Taco Bell, drinking gallons of Mountain Dew. Which I was not, but often people thought casual video games were just that. People who lived in their mothers basement and lived off of nothing but Hot Pockets, Pizza Hut Pizza, and carry out from Taco Bell or McDonald's and drinking nothing but gallons of luke-warm Mountain Dew.
No, instead the reflection I saw took my breath away, the stylist had transformed the head of shaggy hair into the classic Shojo Schoolgirl bob. And she had done an excellent job with the dye job. A few skips of the heart later I noticed how the bob seemed to bring out the warmth in my eyes and seemed to really frame my oval face. While I still looked androgynous, I could see that I had titled a good four degrees toward the feminine side. The Sailor Moon shirt and jeans really helped.
“Thank you!” I said blushing as I admired myself in the mirror.
“No problem, you look cute, plus, you're a teenager, gotta go wild and experiment right?” The stylist said smiling as she stepped back to admire her work. She then quickly added. “So, your mom told me you're doing this for cosplay right?”
I guess at this point the stylist was trying to make some small talk.
I nodded my head, and then before I could stop myself I found these worlds came tumbling out of my mouth.
“I'm going as one of the Sailor Scouts.” I paused. “I'm going to be Sailor Mercury for Halloween!” I said proudly.”
And that is how I took another small step.
End Chapter Three
Rascal's First Halloween
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
-4-
Breakfast with Mom
Sailor Moon was what I considered my gateway anime. It was the anime that got me addicted to the colorful and often vibrant world of Japanese Animation. It had also been mom's favorite anime. Something I never knew about mom was that she was something of a prototype gamer girl. I guess I should have known that because her old bedroom at grandmother's house still had an old Nintendo 64 and an old VHS player hooked up.
She also had a bookshelf that was filled with VHS tapes. Most of the tapes were either Sailor Moon or Pokemon. The few times I went into mom's old bedroom, I kind of treated it like a time capsule. It was like stepping back into a different time. When I was looking upon that old Nintendo 64, slowly gathering dust that still had a copy of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time still in it. Or those collections of VHS tapes. I did not see outdated hardware, I saw relics of our past. Our shared past.
Anyway it was a cool Autumn afternoon. The trees had turned a little more from green to orange and the mornings were a bit cooler though the afternoons were still pretty hot. And I was still sore from my doctor's visit earlier that morning. The seasonal change had wrecked havoc on my sinus. Resulting in a terrible sinus infection or was it a cold. I'm not sure.
Either way mom had wasted no time in booking me an appointment with a local clinic that was connected to the local hospital. I mean that, you could throw a stone from the waiting room of the local clinic to the ER. Mom worked there as a nurse and decided that was the best place to go. Either way I spent that morning being moved from one room to the next. Before Dr. Frank, I finally decided I indeed had a terrible sinus infection or a cold. He was not really sure.
But he decided the best course of action was to give me two shots in the bottom, a breathing treatment, along with a full course of oral antibiotics to be taken three times a day for ten days, and a week off from school. Because according to him to school's were on fire with this stuff.
The prescription was called into a local Walmart where of course mom decided to stock the fridge with anything and everything I might need for those ten to seven days. That included four packages of Marketside Tonkatsu Ramen Bowl, four packages of Marketside Beef Udon Bowl, Some microwave white rice, some frozen chopped steak, some frozen sausage patties. Iced rolls from the bakery, some frozen pizzas, a twelve pack of colas, and some sport drinks. And of course she tossed in a chocolate cheese cake, simple things I could fix on my own because mom was not going to call in on my behalf. She was saving her PTO for the Summer Time.
Anyway, the reason I was out of bed was because my Android had kept buzzing. It seemed Amazon had delivered my package while I was sleeping off the effects of the shot. And well, even though we live in a semi-safe neighborhood, I did not trust the neighborhood dogs, who often carried away packages from peoples porches or pissed on the packages.
And I went down and picked the package up and walked inside and set it down on the small, oval, kitchen table and went back to bed. Well first I fixed myself a pizza pie, pepperoni of course and I washed it down with several cans of rootbeer. Anyway I'm not sure how long I slept, but it was late afternoon when I went down for my second nap of the day. I came around early the next morning. My Android Phone showed the time of six thirty three.
By that time mom was off work and drinking coffee like it was life giving liquid. She looked tired, smelled like a hospital.
“Morning.” I said as I peered toward mom.
“Morning.” Mom said as she wrapped her fingers around the coffee. “Princess bed hair.”
I felt my cheeks start to turn a dark red.
“Cute pajamas.” Mom said as she took another sip of her coffee. “A little short for my taste. But then again you're almost eighteen. I also noticed you shaved your legs and under your arms too. Which is good, it will make your pass easier.” Mom added as she eased her coffee cup down upon the table.
I felt my cheeks start to flush a deep, dark red as I looked down at the set of pajamas I was wearing. The top was a race tank with all five of the main sailor guardians in the front and the bottom was dolphin shorts. I felt like I was wearing nothing at all.
“Thanks. I ordered them off Amazon.” I said, taking a deep breath. “Would you like breakfast?”
“You can cook?” Mom said, raising an eyebrow.
“I learned from the best.” I said bending down to open the fridge. I pulled out a packet of smoked sausage and a can of cinnamon roll dough.
“I hope you mean me, because your father burned water.” Mom added as she took another sip of her coffee. “The man could never even make coffee. He always has way too many grinds in the basket and that would cause the basket to flood and make a hell of a mess for me to clean up and plus the grinds would turn to coffee bitter.”
I blinked and picked up a butcher's knife, without saying a word I sliced open the clear plastic package, and placed rolls of smoked sausage on the wooden cutting board, I then started to slice the sausage into bite size pieces.
“I miss him sometimes though. I mean I sometimes wonder what I saw in that man besides just a handsome face and a strong body and a big, thick dick.” Mom said as drained the last few ounces of her coffee and then she pushed her chair back and then walked toward the pot.
I paused mid-cut with the knife and peered toward mom. I slowly turned toward her with a look of sheer horror on my face.
“What? The way I see it, you're my daughter now. Mothers tell their daughters these types of things. Sure you flat a board without any curves. But we can always put that down as you being a late bloomer. I was a late bloomer, your sister was a late bloomer, It makes sense for you to be a late bloomer too.”
“Thanks mom.” I said as I bent down, opened the stove and fished out a heavy, iron skillet. I placed the skillet on top of the stove's eye and turned the dial to three. A clicking sound followed, the clicking sound lasted around three seconds before a clear blue flame appeared.
“Anyway.” Mom said, waving her hand in the air as she refilled her coffee mug.
“Anyway?” I blinked as I tossed the sausage in the iron skillet, the sausage made a sizzling sound. I then popped the can of cinnamon roll down and slowly I started setting the rolls on a baking pan, once they were set I walked over and set the toast oven to three fifty.
“I think you're doing something really special.” Mom said finally. “Also Hailey Elizabeth Sharbrough finally emailed me back. I think I failed to mention she was one in charge of the whole dunking booth fund-raiser even though she was not volunteering to staff it. Anyway Ms. Sharbrough finally emailed me the Dunk Tank Schedule for the Halloween Carnival.”
“Sharbrough?” I said blinking. “That's like that really rich family that founded Sharbrough's Landing.”
Mom rolled her eyes.
“Yes.” Mom paused and took a sip of her coffee. “Though I won't call them 'Rich' there mostly farmers. Most of their money is tied up in land, cotton, soy beans, and catfish. Like most planters in the Yazoo Delta their wealth lies in the land itself. They have plenty of land but very little cash.”
“Oh..” I said as I flipped the sausage.
“Anyway you're in two time slots.” Mom said, taking a deep breath. “You're in the five thirty slot and the seven o' clock time slot.”
“Wow.. two tours in the tank.” I said moving the sausage onto a plate.
“Yes, two tours.” Mom said, sighing. “Also did you try on the outfit?”
“No ma'am.” I said walking over to check on the sweet rolls.
“Well after breakfast, you need to try it on. I ordered a few extra things. Things I need to go over you with.” Mom said as she finished her second cup of coffee.
“Okay!” I said blushing a little as I reached for an oven mitten. I took the oven mitten in hand and opened the door of the toaster oven. The door opened. I reached and removed the tray and set it on top of the oven and then I glazed the rolls.
And that is how another chapter comes to an end.
Rascal's First Halloween
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
-5-
Mercury Power, Make-Up!
Once mom and I finished eating breakfast, I started on the chore of clearing away the dishes we used. It took me a few moments to collect all the dishes, and then a few more minutes to wash them, and a few more minutes to dry them with an old dish towel before I returned them to the cupboard where they lived. Once all that was done, I turned toward mom who was looking at me and smiling like a house cat who had just snatched the song bird from the iron cage and still had its feathers floating around its mouth.
“Okay, you've piddled enough.” Mom stated as she pushed the Amazon parcel across the table toward me. “Go ahead and open it.”
I blushed and took a deep breath as I opened the package. I felt my cheek bones a rose red color, I could feel the heat of the blush. As I reached into the parcel and pulled out what appeared to be a form fitting white blouse attached, the bottom was a fake leather skirt that was blue in color. Up next a pair of satin, opera gloves came out of the package. Up next, a blue, leather choke came out, that was followed by a bronze colored tiara that had a tear drop, fake, rhinestone, blue sapphire in the middle. And finally, a pair of tall leather boots.
“I went ahead and ordered the matching boots too. Sure they're going to get wet when you go into the dunking booth. But given how short the skirt is, they're going to provide a bit of modesty.” Mom commented.
I thought that was everything until from the box came a very, form fitting blue bathing suit. It was a solid navy blue one piece bathing suit, I blinked and peered toward mom as I held up the swim suit.
“I also ordered you a one piece navy blue swimsuit. It's going to shape your belly, that you have one. But it's also going to add some much needed modesty. The blouse, if you've noticed is white, white becomes transparent when wet. You're going to get wet in a dunking tank. And well, having a bunch of strangers seeing the outline of your swimsuit is far less embarrassing than having them seeing the outline of your bra. Plus the swimsuit has sewn in padding and support.” Mom said in a matter of fact tone of voice as she sipped her coffee.
“..” I was speechless. Words seemed to fail me when I held up two plastic mounds. “Okay mom the swimsuit makes sense, but what are these?”
“Those would be 'Silicon chicken fillets' or just 'chicken cutlets'. Those are soft, realistic, silicone inserts designed to boost your chest and give you the appearance of having breasts. Which is what you want.” Mom paused. “That should give you a nice 'B' or 'C' cup. Which will keep people from asking too many questions.”
“Mom!” I said feeling a fresh wave of blush forming again. “How much money did you spend?!”
“Around one hundred seventy dollars and fifteen cents.” Mom paused and took a sip of her coffee. “That's how I spent it. I charged it to your dads Amazon Store card. We share an Amazon Store account. I mean he's loaded. He makes buckets of money working on the Mississippi River. I doubt he even checks his monthly bank statement.”
I titled my head to the side.
“Listen, I know what you're going to say and I agree with you. Stealing is wrong, and one should never steal. But you gotta take this into consideration. One he left us when you were fourteen. Two, besides the handsome divorce settlement he is still going to be paying child support until you're eighteen in a few short months. So the cow is about to run out of milk. With that in mind you might as well get every ounce of milk you can as long as the cow is still making milk. Three, he has a totally new, perfect, family. Fourth, once you turn eighteen you'll never get anything from him again. And last, but not least, considering how much he dotes on his step-son and step-daughter.”
“Okay I get you, I get you.”
“Plus he spends most of his time on the bloody river anyway. Traveling on a barge between New Orleans and Chicago for weeks at a time. And when he does come home to his pretty, little, barbie doll, cookie-cutter wife, and his two perfect kids, and that picture perfect little creole cottage in the heart of New Orleans fashionable district. With its perfectly mowed yard, white fence and their pure breed dog.. he was not thinking about his bank statement, or his Amazon store card, or you, or your older sister, or I.” Mom forced herself to stop rambling.
“.. Mom, are you okay?”
Mom, who seemed flustered, started to calm down a little.
“I'm good, just a little mommy rant.” Mom said smiling. “Go ahead and put everything on.” Mom said smiling it was a clear forced smile. “Start with the swimsuit.”
It took me around twenty minutes to put on everything. The swimsuit I noticed was form fitting, but was cut in the style of the classic Japanese school swimsuit I've seen dozens of times on beach centered episodes of my favorite Saturday morning anime series. The little flap at the bottom did kind of give me a somewhat smooth appearance. Up next came the chicken cutlets, which I'm not going to lie to you, really gave my chest a boost.
Up next came the boots, which were a pain to put on. And finally the white blouse, and blue leather skirt. I forgot to mention the blouse was also in the fashion of a Japanese school uniform blouse, so it had a flap collar and it came with a big bow. The flap collar looked cute, but the bow took some effort. Finally the gloves, the choker and the tiara.
“Wow.” I said, taking a deep breath. “All of this weighs a ton!”
Once everything was on, I walked back into the kitchen.
“Adorable you're going to make a real splash in the dunk tank!”
And that is how another chapter in my strange life came to an end.