Sister's Passport - Flying Off To New Life - Part 1

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Ken sat on his lone suitcase in the arrivals area, searching the crowd for his new American family.

Where were they?

He had landed over two hours ago and was still in the airport. Phone calls to their house only got an answering machine. The crowd ebbed and flowed around him.

Families with children, overweight limo drivers with hand-printed signs, business colleagues, young couples, and everyone else seemed to find each other. Joyous reunions were played out over and over before Ken's envious eyes.

In a moment of dizziness, Ken teetered on his suitcase and toppled to the floor, legs sprawled wide and skirt splayed open.

He quickly got up, brushed off, righted the suitcase, and sat back down, holding his hands to his face and massaging his eyes he tried to shut out the confusion and melee that swirled around him.

Ken was dirty, hot, and fatally tired.

He had been awake for 37 hours, having slept only fitfully on the plane, and he was so tired that he had no coherent thoughts, only panicky feelings.

He wanted nothing more than a clean bed and a cup of warm tea with milk and honey.

The night before he had stayed up until 2:30 in the morning, waiting until everyone else was sure to be asleep. Picking up his suitcase he carefully crept out of the house and left it by the back door. Walking down the street to a local grocery store, he called for a taxi.

Hopefully, his parents would both leave for work and, since it was a school holiday, would not bother to wake him. With luck, his absence would not be discovered until late today.

Ken, afraid of nodding off, stood up to stretch his legs, wincing as his pinched toes complained. 2" heels, he had reasoned, no problem!

But his feet were now in real pain, so he quickly sat back down, nearly falling again on the unstable suitcase which he now realized was missing a foot.

Ken looked down at his rumpled clothes and thought back to when he had picked them out with his transsexual friend Sandra.

"No, no!" his friend Sandra had said. Sandra was a fairly famous architect in the city and so was fairly well-traveled. "You don't want to wear that!"

Ken had picked out a short pin-striped skirt with a wide open-collar shirt. "Why not?"

 Ken asked. "It looks just like this skirt I saw at DKNY."

Sandra shook his head. "No, no. They don't want you to look like a Yank, see? It's way too short and revealing. I mean, you've got the body for it, no problem there!

I don't know how you do it. But no. What they will want is for you to look like a proper English lady. Try this instead."

Ken took the hanger from Sandra and went to try it on. Sandra had picked out a light brown suit, narrow-cut, classic, and hemmed just to the knee with a soft light-weight wool fabric, and a fashionably long suit jacket.

When Ken stepped out of the changing room Sandra whistled.

"See? It's perfect! You are the very picture of modest, but capable young women. That's what they'll be looking for."

Ken looked at himself in the mirror. The cut on the jacket was perfect and wonderfully accented his narrow waist. Ken turned over the price tag and gasped. "But Sandra! It's much too expensive. I can't possibly afford it!" "Tut tut!" Sandra clucked. "It's my treat."

 But now he looked horrible! The light brown suit that had looked so sharp was now rumpled and dirty. His stretch cotton blouse, chosen to generously hug his curves and accentuate his fake breasts, now felt sticky and damp.

He resisted the temptation to scratch his chest where the under-wire bra dug in cruelly. He desperately wanted to impress his new American hosts. "But how impressive can I possibly be, like this?" he fretted.

Ken thought back with longing to his transsexual friend Sandra and his wife Sarah. Lost and alone in this huge new country, he was already homesick for them. It was through a transgender support group that Ken was first put in contact with Sandra.

 Ken never actually went to any of the meetings, it would have been impossible given how carefully his parents watched over him, but the organizer of the group had suggested that Ken talk to Sandra, who lived just a short bicycle ride away.

For nearly half a year, Ken had held on to Sandra's phone number, unable to muster the courage to make the call. It was only after the terrible fight with his parents that he found the courage to do so.

Not reserved or snooty at all, the Dickinsons welcomed Ken wholeheartedly into their household and unconditionally accepted him as a young woman.

Sandra was English but was born and raised in California. His wife Sarah was a seamstress who loved to sew pretty dresses and was more than delighted to have one more willing and appreciative model to wear her designs. Ken never ventured from home dressed 'en femme' for fear of running into his real family, but Sandra did and with relish.

He was so flamboyant that he could carry off any outfit that Sarah devised. How he could be so honestly oblivious to the curious stares around him was a source of inspiration to Ken, who had lived his life fairly dictated by the perceptions of others.

Perhaps it was Sandra's job, as an art and architecture critic for one of the London broadsheets, which gave him the strength, for in his job he had to put up with a great deal of enmity from those who disagreed with his opinions.

The first time that Ken went to visit, for tea, was just after the stitches had been removed from the blow to his head. Although Ken was too discreet to blame his parents, some bitterness inevitably leaked out, and he suspected that Sandra and Sarah had an inkling that the cut was not entirely accidental.

Perhaps because of this, Sandra and Sarah started calling Ken their 'adopted daughter', a pet name that brought a contented smile to his lips, even now.

They encouraged him to call them "Mum" and "Dad", and it was through their care that Ken gained back some of the self-confidence, fun, and love of experimentation that he had lost.

"They saved my life," Ken reflected simply, for after meeting them he soon abandoned his plans.

 It was in the spirit of adopted family connections that Sandra and Sarah eventually agreed to become accomplices in Ken's plan to become an Au Pair in America. Being around Sandra, and watching American movies and shows, Ken had naturally come to assume that America was chock full of tolerant, creative, fun-loving, uninhibited people, and so he had sent in his application to the Au Pair program, taking the name of his sister, Kathy, and listing the Dickinsons as his guardians.

Sandra and Ken handled phone calls and interviews easily and honestly, albeit from their more liberal point of view.

Even though Sandra did not himself dress full-time as a woman, he had absolutely no problem with Ken passing himself off as one, for Sandra knew dozens of such transsexuals in England doing the same, many of them married like he was. "Listen carefully to your heart," Sandra often said, "for it will never steer you wrong."

"Of course," he added, with a twinkle, "it can take an entire lifetime to learn how to listen."

"Hi, um, are you Kathy?" Ken looked up hopefully at the lady before him. She was dressed casually in black sweatpants and a white T-shirt and was carrying a car seat with a sleeping baby in it.

Curiously, she was holding a hand behind her back. Her hair, pulled into a bun, was dark brown and frizzy, and her eyes seemed heavy-lidded as if it was too much effort to open them all the way. Ken might have called her round face beautiful, but it was missing any sense of sparkle.

"Yes, are you Mrs. Johnson?"

Tina put down the car seat. "Hi Kathy, welcome to America, and please, call me Tina, otherwise you'll make me feel so old! I hope you haven't been waiting long? My husband, Brian, apparently got the time of your arrival wrong, I'm so sorry."

Tina scowled at having to apologize for her husband's mistake.

"Also I thought he'd be here to come greet you, but apparently he was held up at the office."

Ken carefully stood up on unsteady legs and gently shook the limp hand offered to him. "No problem about the wait," he said courteously. Leaning over to look in the car seat, "And, is this Michael?"

 "Yes it is, and this," with a grunt, Tina pulled her hand from behind her back exposing a little girl in a pink glittery lame' leotard with a mesh tutu, "is Julie. Say hello to your new nanny, Julie!"

Julie scurried back behind her mother, burying her face in her mother's skirt.

"It's Julie-ina!" she said, adamantly.

Tina rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Yes, well then, say hello to Kathy, Julie-ina."

Not budging an inch from behind her mother, Julie called out a small "Hello".

Ken knelt down to be eye-to-eye with Julie, who peaked out. "I am very pleased to meet you, Julie-ina.

That's certainly a very curious name for a little girl, how did you come by it?"

"She's just started ballet lessons," Tina explained, "and now she refuses to be called anything but 'Julie-ina Ballerina' and wants to wear her special tutu all the time." Ken could tell that Tina was embarrassed for her daughter.

Jokingly Tina turned to her daughter. "You know, Julie-ina, you can't go to a job interview wearing a tutu, you'll need to be dressed much more appropriately, like Kathy here.

Doesn't she look elegant dressed like that?"

Ken smiled at the compliment but could tell that Julie didn't have any idea what her mother was going on about. Julie, six years old, looked almost exactly like her mother, with long untamed curly hair and a round, pudgy face with freckles.

She was adorable, just the kind of little girl to break her father's heart, or to raise Satan with a tantrum.

Ken turned to Michael, sleeping peacefully.

"What a beautiful baby! How old is he?"

 "8 months, and, I'm afraid to say, still not sleeping through the night. Sorry about that."

 "No problem at all, I certainly understand," Ken answered with more confidence than he felt. Ken was woefully ignorant when it came to handling children.

His sister was only 2 years younger than he was, so he had never really helped with her. When he had fretted to the Dickinsons about his inexperience, Sandra would just brush away his concerns.

"Don't worry," he had said, "you have a gentle nature. Just treat the child with all of the respect and attention that you would treat any adult and you'll be fine."

"Well!" Tina said, "Now that we are all introduced, shall we head home?"

"Mommy!" Julie cried out.

"Yes, dear?" Tina asked, patiently.

"The red plane! I want to go on the red plane!"

"There's a little playground for children upstairs which has a red jungle gym shaped like a plane," Tina explained to Ken. To Julie, she said, "No dear. I'm sure that Kathy is very tired, we should take her home so she can rest from her long journey."

"NO!" Julie screamed, turning heads in the arrival area. "You said I could play on the red plane! I want to go play on the red plane! Now!" Julie stamped her foot in frustration and began to gasp, the precursor to outright wailing.

 Ken could sympathize, for that's exactly how he felt himself, suffering from that special brand of anxiousness that only extreme exhaustion can bring.

But desperately wanting to impress his new American hostess, he said, "It would be alright to spend some time on the red airplane, really. I'm not that tired. Let's go, Julie."

 Tears forgotten, Julie ran to the escalators with a squeal.

"Julie!"

Tina called, "Come back here!" To Ken, she asked, "Are you sure? You look really tired."

"I'm perfectly fine, really," Ken lied and then picked up his suitcase and trotted to catch up with Julie.

 Dearest Sandra & Sarah: If I'm so tired, why can't I sleep?

Woke up at 4:30am this stupid time zone. At least now I have time to write to you! No problems with US customs, btw.

They just waved me through! I'm a fugitive! Don't tell! Tina Johnson and the children, Julie and Michael are very nice.

Julie will be my responsibility.

Dear me! She's a little hellion. Tina thinks she has had 'separation anxiety' since 8 years was born. I think she's just spoiled when she's not being heart-breakingly cute. Three tantrums and she threw a book at her brother today.

I worry about Tina. She seems depressed and criticizes Brian their father all the time. Apparently, he works all the time and doesn't help out with the house or children except to tell Tina what not to do. Please hold on. I just changed my first nappy!

Thank god for disposables! Michael was fussing and I noticed the smell straight away. Putting the diaper on a moving target was a challenge, but managed it OK.

He was fussy, so I rocked him to sleep. OMG, a sleeping baby in my arms is there anything more precious?

But Sarah! What am I going to do about my breasts! I took off my bra and falsies to sleep, then forgot! What if someone had seen poor, flat-chested me?

I think I'll have to sleep with my falsies on to avoid mistakes in the future until the hormones start to take effect.

Sandra, you should see this old house.

You'd love it! It's huge and gorgeous with fantastic shingles in wavy patterns a huge tower on one side and such incredible details.

Too bad the interior is so run down. My washroom is missing tiles all over, and the downstairs is a nightmare.

Oh, and it's also got a pool! Too bad it's filled with mud.

Love and kisses, I miss you terribly, and if you don't write back right away I shall hunt you down, Kathy.

"Oh shit!" Ken quickly closed the back door rushing down the hall.

Lying on the floor, Ken looked up to see a tall man standing over him, wet, soapy, and naked except for a towel that was grasped tenuously around his waist.

The man was of muscular build, hairy chest, bushy eyebrows, and shaggy, unkempt, dark brown hair.

He looked at Ken with wild confusion,

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" he shouted.

"THE AU PAIR!" Ken shouted back.

"WHO?"

"THE NANNY!"

The man shook his head. Turning, he raced down the hall.

Too fast!

His soapy feet slipped out from under him.

He fell on his backside and continued to slide down the hall from his momentum until he slid into the door at the end of the hallway with a loud crunch.

"Fuck!"

He scrambled up. Punching the code into the control panel.

"Are you OK?"

Ken asked, tentatively.

"Uh, fine."

 The man was now completely naked.

The towel lay on the floor. He and Ken locked eyes for a split second.

"Oh! I'm sorry." Ken hid his eyes and turned his head away.

"Um, my name is Kathy," he said from behind his hands, "I'm the new au pair, ah, the nanny."

"You can look now."

Ken uncovered his eyes. The other man had fetched the towel and was now somewhat covered again. He walked up to Ken and held out his hand.

"My name is Brian. Pleased to meet you."

Ken received a wet and soapy handshake.

"What's going on down here?"

Tina had rushed downstairs in her cotton PJs. She looked her husband up and down and couldn't resist a giggle.

"Oh, Hi Brian!" she continued, lightly.

"I see you've met our new Au Pair?"

Brian returned a withering look.

"Yes, we just introduced ourselves."

Annoyed Tina turned back to Ken, "I must thank you, Kathy!

For arranging this rare meeting between my husband and me." Brian set his jaw.

"Please don't, Tina."

"Don't what?"

Brian paused for a second, trying to decide if he should pursue the argument.

"Never mind. Kathy is it? Sorry about this. We alarm all of the outside doors at night.

You must have set it off by trying to exit the back door?"

Ken nodded.

"Yes, I, ah, woke up early and was just going to go out to get some fresh air. I'm so sorry!"

"No problem, it happens every now and then. Well, I better finish my shower, but Kathy, if you need anything, don't hesitate to just ask."

With that Brian bounded back upstairs.

Ken called up after him, "Well, actually, the tiles in my shower need to be repaired, if it's not too much trouble."

"Oh, that's right!" Brian called down.

"We'll have to fix that someday."

Ken could hear the bathroom close and the water started running again. Ken looked over at Tina who just rolled her eyes. The sound of a baby crying filled the house.

"That must be Michael," sighed Tina. "Kathy, I need to go feed him.

Could you get Julie up and dressed? Just pick out something nice for school.

She is not allowed to go as a ballerina. That's where I draw the line."

"Julie?"

Ken walked up to the lump in the bed. Julie's bedroom was a strange combination of bare walls and cluttered floors, as if an earthquake had come and knocked everything down.

Ken gently shook the lump.

"Julie? It's time to get up now."

How could she have slept through the burglar alarm? he wondered.

 "Julie?" Ken shook the lump harder until he heard muffled giggling. Smiling Ken put on his mock-angry voice.

"Julie! How dare you pretend to be asleep like that!"

"I'm not pretending! I am asleep!"

"No, you're not, you silly girl!" And with that Ken reached over and tickled the lump, causing a shriek of laughter to come from within. Ken pulled down the covers and exposed the rumpled Julie, wearing a nightgown covered in little teddy bears.

"I fooled you! I fooled you!" she giggled hysterically.

"Yes, you did. Now come on. You need to get dressed for school."

Ken grasped the hem of the nightgown and pulled it off Julie, who obediently held her arms up. Julie took off her panties and scampered out of the room, saying, "I need to go potty!"

Ken sat down on the bed for a second, swallowing hard. A young girl had just completely undressed in front of him, not once suspecting that he was a man.

Somehow all of his dressing up, learning to behave as a woman in public, mingling with others all that paled in comparison to this simple girl who accepted him without hesitation.

Julie skipped back into the room, still naked.

"All done!" she said proudly.

She ran to her dresser, got a clean pair of undies, and put them on.

"I wanna be Julie-ina ballerina!" she stated as she ran over to her ballet outfit.

"I'm sorry, Julie, but your mother said I should pick out something nice for school."

Forty minutes later they finally made it downstairs. Julie was wearing a simple corduroy plaid jumper and a white cotton blouse.

"Hi sleepyhead," Tina called to her daughter as the two entered the kitchen.

Ken smiled and guided Julie to the breakfast table. She clambered up to her booster chair.

"What would you like for breakfast?" he asked.

"Cereal."

"Very good." Ken walked over to the cabinets to get a bowl. He looked down and noticed the wine bottle from last night on the countertop. Tina had opened a new bottle for dinner last night and now it was completely empty. Ken got out a box of cereal and some milk. "Not that kind!" "Not that kind of what?"

"Yuck! Blue milk!"

Tina was grinding coffee.

"She doesn't like the skim milk.

Get her the 2%." Ken looked up at Tina and saw the bags and wrinkles around her eyes. Tina held the back of her hand to her forehead.

"Are you OK?"

Ken asked as he fetched the 2%.

"Fine, just a headache," Tina replied.

 "That's mommy's cereal! I don't want that."

Tina brought over another box of cereal and handed it to Ken.

"Sorry 'bout that," she said, "Julie likes this kind. It's too sweet for my taste, but she seems to like it.

Although god knows she doesn't need the extra energy." Ken poured cereal and milk for both Julie and himself and then fetched some orange juice. The two ate together.

When she had eaten enough, Julie jumped out of her chair and ran upstairs.

"Julie!" Tina called up. "Get your books and come right down! The bus will be here in just 5 minutes!" After several long minutes, Julie pranced back into the kitchen, now dressed in her pink lame' tutu.

"I'm Julie-ina Ballerina!" she declared, triumphantly, raising a sparkly gold wand over her head, "with my magic golden scepter!"

Ken entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He sat down on the tile floor and placed his head on the rim of the toilet bowl. "Goodness," he thought, "is this what it's like to raise a child?

Already I'm exhausted!" Ken looked into the toilet bowl, trying to decide what to do. It had been a stressful day.

After Julie-ina's surprise entrance, Ken chased her around the room, finally catching her and carrying her upstairs. Julie liked that part.

But when they got upstairs, Ken had insisted that Julie change into school clothes. She had resisted and it seemed that nothing he could do would change her mind.

When Ken reached for her magic wand, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Finally, after persistent use of flattery, "You look like such a beautiful young woman in your school clothes!"

combined with adult reasoning "You know you can't go to school in just a tutu, you would be so beautiful that it would distract all your teachers and classmates," Julie finally relented.

Ken doubted that she was moved by his arguments. More likely she was just bored and realized that he wouldn't go away until she gave in.

Once changed Tina drove Julie to school while Ken watched Michael. Michael was easy, Ken thought.

Why can't all children be like this?

Unable to move, unable to get into trouble, and happy all the time except when he needs to be fed or changed.

Finally, Tina was back home and Ken had some time to himself. Ken leaned over the toilet bowl and used a finger to help him regurgitate his breakfast.

Feeling better, he stood up and stripped.

Off came his black skirt, white cotton blouse, bra, breast forms, flat pumps, pantyhose, panties, and waist cinch.

The waist cinch was just a six-inch wide piece of stretchy fabric with Velcro on the ends which went around his middle. Ken realized that he didn't really need it, but it did help to emphasize the difference between his waist and hips.

Ken took a second to examine himself in the mirror.

His young body was rail-thin, with no hair. As he held his arms up and turned this way and that, Ken examined his breasts closely for growth. They were certainly sensitive and warm, but he could detect only the slightest swelling from the hormones.

Ken went through the motions of checking his breasts for lumps. His doctor in England had thought it was a good idea, and Ken was happy to make this little ritual a part of his daily routine.

How could anyone confuse this body for a woman?

Ken had no idea. In the mirror, he was no more than a scared young man, graceless and emaciated.

The opposite of womanhood, this was not a body that could carry a baby. It was an image that he recognized as his own, but he did not identify with it, kind of like the black and white photo of his father as a teenager.

The photo sat on his mother's dresser, and Ken could not see a single trace of the father he knew in the picture of the roguish boy, who sat on the deck of a ship, arms crossed, with a smug and self-confident smile. With a sigh, Ken pulled away from the mirror and started his shower.

At some point, while washing his feet, his elbow bumped the wall.

"Uh oh."

With water cascading around him, Ken examined the hole he had just created.

A tile had been pushed right into the wall, where it had disappeared. Tapping around with a fingernail, it sounded like the entire wall was hollow. Working more carefully Ken finished up and turned off the shower.

He ran his long hair through his hands to squeeze out the excess water. thunk.

The bar of soap slipped off the soap dish and fell to the floor.

"Huh," Ken mused. He placed the soap back onto the soap dish. thunk. It fell down again.

Apparently, the heavy ceramic dish had pulled away from the wall. Ken tried to push it back into the wall.

"Uh oh."

A crack formed, running horizontally the length of the wall, between two rows of tiles.

Ken backed up, brushing up against the shower curtain. Two more tiles broke off and clattered into the tub.

A second crack raced up the wall and another tile fell into the tub. "Shit..." CRACK, the entire wall of tile shifted, slid down an inch, hit the edge of the tub, and collapsed.

Ken screamed as the tiles crashed around his feet with plaster flying everywhere.

Ken stumbled backward over the side of the tub, right through the shower curtain, which he ripped from the rod with a loud series of popping sounds. Ken fell with a hard whump onto the floor.

Coughing and gasping, blinded by the plaster dust, Ken reached for a towel and covered his face with it, trying to breathe.

"Kathy! What's going on in there?" Tina was pounding on the door. "Kathy! Are you alright?" Tina tried the door, but it was locked. "Do I need to break this door down?"

"No!" Ken choked out.

"One second!"

Quick! Ken thought. Hide the breast forms! Hide the cinch! Ken stumbled around the room, unable to breathe, unable to see.

He fumbled for the items and stuffed them under the sink.

"What's happening in there?

Unlock this door!"

 Frantically Ken scrambled to put on a pair of panties. Lungs bursting, he gathered a towel over his chest and finally burst out of the door. "The wall," Ken said coughing, "collapsed!"

Ken fell to his knees, coughing spasmodically, caked head to toe in white plaster dust. He clutched his towel tightly to his chest, trying desperately to hide his body.

Tina rushed in, coughing and choking on the dust, turning on the ventilation fan to clear the air.

"My God!" she exclaimed, surveying the destruction, "are you okay?

You could have been seriously hurt!"

 Tina returned to Ken and knelt down beside him.

"Are you sure you're OK?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Ken relaxed, breathing more slowly.

Ken looked over at Tina, who had a wide grin on her face.

"What?"

"You!"

Tina giggled.

"You look like the victim of a bakery accident!!"

Ken smiled.

'Thank god,' he thought to himself. 'She doesn't notice!'

Out loud he said, "I'm so sorry about the wall. First, some tiles fell off, then the soap dish."

Tina cut him off.

"Please don't worry about it Kathy, I understand. I don't know why Brian wanted you to use this bathroom, you could have got yourself killed!

I've been telling him for months now that he needs to get it repaired, but he doesn't listen to me."

Tina's face pinched up.

"I'm so sorry! Just use the children's bathroom until we can get this one fixed up.

Go now."