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Mysterious Changes - Part 1

Added 2023-06-08 16:18:57 +0000 UTC

SUMMARY - In a mysterious twist of fate, Steve's brother Lucas had become Lisa. Following the transformation of Marty into Marsha, he decides to investigate and see if they can be changed back. There are, however, some unforeseen circumstances.

Most of the year, I envy guys my age, growing up in cities like Omaha or Lincoln. They've got it made with concerts and big movie theaters not little ones like the Rivoli here in Leeds and all sorts of amusements. But every fall as the end of September rolls around, I start to feel a little sorry for them. That's because late September is when we celebrate the Carver County Fair. "Mr. Hall?" "Huh?" I looked up at Mr. Jackson, our American History teacher.

There was a little smile under his bushy mustache. It was a smile of triumph, for he knew he had caught me daydreaming. "Would you like to tell the class what Fremont called Nebraska when he first visited?" "The Great American Desert," I replied, proud of my recovery. "Explain why," he commanded, a little nonplussed that I had been able to answer his question. I knew why. He was new to the school and thought just because I was the starting quarterback on the Leeds High School football team, I was just a dumb jock. Well, he was about to find out that although I had a penchant for daydreaming, I was a very smart jock.

I went on to describe Fremont's early travels in what was now Nebraska and how the term he had coined referred more to the western part of the state where a treeless prairie had once existed. The forests of the eastern United States gave way to the plains not far to the west of Leeds where the rivers became more sparse, fed by more infrequent rains and the melting snows of the distant Rockies. And I watched with amusement as Mr. Jackson's disdain turned slowly to begrudging respect. "Very good, Mr. Hall," he allowed at last to the amusement of my classmates.

They had seen the same little play acted out more than once in other classrooms and not just with me as the hero. There were several of us in the class who were both talented athletes and top students. As Mr. Jackson moved on to a more promising victim, I was free to go back to my thoughts about the County Fair. As I was saying, guys in the city don't have county fairs or if they do, they're no big thing. It's only in small towns like Leeds, Nebraska, that we get a couple of days off from school in late September just to attend the fair. For city kids, summer ends with the Labor Day weekend.

There's not another significant long weekend until Thanksgiving, and in Nebraska, that means mostly cold, dreary weather. But for kids in towns like Leeds, summer goes on all through September until after the County Fair. And this was going to be the best County Fair of all, I thought to myself. First, it was unusually warm for late September, so it would be like summer even at night and all the girls would be strolling around in shorts and tee tops. And the other reason it would be the best County Fair was that this year, we were seniors!

This would be the last great high school blast before the weather turned cold. Safe for the moment from Mr. Jackson's scrutiny, I thought about how great the whole week would be. It was already Tuesday, and the rides were already being set up down at the new Carver County Fairgrounds. By the next day, they would be operating. Ron Cook, Kevin Foster, Andy O'Connor and I had all agreed to hang out together Wednesday night and take in the rides. We were all on the football team together and had grown up together. It would be a wild night. Then, Thursday night, we'd all take in the judging. That was the night all the art projects got judged for award ribbons. It wasn't that we were into amateur art, but several of the girls in our class had projects being judged, and it was a good idea to show up to stay on their good side. The hardest part was to pretend to be interested in their projects when we'd rather be on the rides.

Friday night would be a big group date. Oh sure, some of the guys had steady girls, but most of us were a little more casual about that sort of thing. I had been dating Jennifer Doyle, a junior and a cheerleader over the summer, but it just hadn't worked out. We had split up three weeks before school. She wasn't really happy about it, but I wasn't ready to get serious about any girl just yet, with college and all just around the corner. The other guys I chummed around with were the same way, as were a number of the girls in our class.

But Saturday night for the dance that marked the end of the County Fair, we'd all manage to pair off. Judy Castle wasn't exactly the girl next door she lived about two blocks away and a couple of houses away from Ron. But she and I had been friends since the first grade, and we'd be going together. Judy and I dated every now and then when we were between steadies. We'd even do a little innocent necking whenever we did, but we both knew we'd always just be friends. That was by mutual agreement, I might add.

So there it was, I thought as the class bell rang ending the period and announcing lunchtime. The next few days were all planned out or so I thought. I had no way of knowing it, but the wheels were about to come off my plans as well as the plans of several of my friends. Unbeknownst to any of us, this would really be a County Fair we would never forget - but not for the reasons we thought. It was cool to be me. When I thought about it, I realized I had it all. I was one of the top athletes and one of the top students in my class.

I was tall about six-two and well built, and the girls seemed to think I was reasonably good-looking with my fair skin and well-trimmed brown hair, and friendly blue eyes. And it didn't hurt that I was from good stock, too. My parents were comfortably well off. My father was a respected attorney and on the Leeds City Council and my mother was well-liked and came from a family that had settled in Leeds so long ago that one of the streets in town was named for them. She was involved in so many civic groups I couldn't keep count of them all.

All I knew is that she was president of two of them.

As I walked through the cafeteria, it was to a chorus of "Hi, Steve!" I smiled and acknowledged each of them. Yeah, I was popular, but I'm happy to say I didn't take advantage of it. I was just one of the guys. I've read stuff and watched TV shows where the jocks are real weenies who seem to split their time between ripping off girls' clothes and beating up on the shrimpy guys, but that's a real crock at least from my experience. Maybe it's because schools in the cities are a little more stratified, with rich kids in one school and poor ones in another.

Little towns like Leeds, where the population barely reaches seven thousand, aren't like that, though. We had rich kids, poor kids, and everything in between all attending the town's one high school. And for the most part, we all got along with each other with a few exceptions. I plopped down with my heavily laden lunch tray right next to Ron and across from Kevin and Andy.

We greeted each other with the usual "heys" and gentle punches on the shoulder and slaps of the hands. "I hear you really steamed Mr. Jackson this morning," Andy chuckled. "What?" I said with a grin as I opened my milk carton. "I just answered his question." "I'll probably get the same treatment this afternoon in his class," Kevin commented while stuffing another French fry into his mouth. "He just doesn't like jocks."

And he'd get the same response he got from me, I thought watching Kevin's intelligent face. He was our starting tailback although, with his unruly blonde hair, he looked more like a surfer. But he was the only guy in the class who had a chance of catching Becky Marshall for valedictorian. Well, I guess I had a chance, but Kevin was a little above me in grade points. "I would have loved to have seen that," Andy said wistfully, pushing a shock of unruly red hair out of his face. Andy was the "dumb" one of our group.

He only carried an A-minus grade point. "Yeah," Ron agreed as he opened a third carton of milk next to me. "Steve got him good. I just wish he'd called on me." I was a little surprised he hadn't. If anybody in our group looked like the ultimate jock, it was Ron. Well-muscled and six-four, with his light brown hair cut very short, Ron looked exactly like the wide receiver he was. But Ron was bright, too, just like Andy, Kevin, and I.

I think that and love of sports was what initially attracted the four of us to each other. All of us planned on going to college together at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln. And all of us wanted to be good enough to play for the Cornhuskers, but I suspected only Ron would be good enough to get very far. He was easily the best athlete of our group, and probably the best one in the school. Suddenly Andy's eyes got wide as he looked behind me. "Don't look Now Steve, but here comes Lucas." "Oh shit!" I mumbled.

Into each life, a little rain must fall. Lucas was my brother. More to the point, he was my asshole brother. Oh, Lucas was bright enough and personable enough for a freshman - but he had a bit of a reckless streak in him. When he was in eighth grade, he managed to get thrown off the basketball team for painting the windows on the coach's car black. He nearly got thrown out of school entirely when he tried to hack into the school computer and wipe out everyone's grades.

If my father hadn't promised to remove the modem from Lucas's computer, I think he would have been kicked out of school. But he did well in school and always made sure his pranks didn't hurt anyone, so nobody came down on him too hard - most of the time. It had been okay when we were in separate schools. The junior high was four blocks away from the high school, so I didn't have to associate with Lucas when he was in eighth grade. Now though, he was in the same school with me, and there's such a thing as guilt by association.

Now every time Lucas pulled one of his stunts, everyone would be looking at me with suspicion - especially since Lucas depended upon me for mobility. I had worked the past two summers saving up enough money to have a clunker a ten-year-old Ford Tempo - to drive around in. Now Lucas wanted me to be his wheels whenever he wanted to pull a stunt. Even though I always refused, I was quickly becoming an implied accomplice. "Hey, big brother!" he greeted me. At least he didn't have a food tray or he'd probably have wanted to sit with us. That just wouldn't have been cool.

After all, he was a freshman. "Uh, this is the senior table," Ron said with mock seriousness. "The freshman table is over there by the garbage cans." "Don't worry," Lucas said with one of his patented disarming grins. "I'm not staying." "That's for sure," Ron said laconically. Ignoring him, Lucas looked at me. "Dave Payne and I need a ride over to the fairgrounds tonight. How about it?" "The fair doesn't open until tomorrow," I pointed out. I wasn't sure what Lucas and Dave had planned, but I was sure they were up to no good. Dave followed Lucas's lead and was about as much of a prankster as Lucas. I really didn't want to be a part of it, whatever it was.

"But you said you might be going by there tonight," he pointed out. "Yeah," I admitted, "but that was to earn some money - not to get into trouble." Ron and I had talked about picking up a little folding money to help the carnies set up the rides. The shows were often a few men short, so they didn't mind hiring the older kids - those of us who at least looked eighteen - to help out. "Maybe Dave and I can get hired on, too," Lucas ventured.

"You're too young," I replied with the smugness only an older brother can muster. "No ride." "Shit!" Lucas went storming off. "Talk about an asshole!" The guys chuckled, as did I. It was fun to yank Lucas's chain every now and then. Besides, like I said, I didn't want people to think I had anything to do with his stunts. Well, Dave Payne had an older brother, too - a junior. Walt Payne was just stupid enough to give them the ride they wanted. I only hoped nobody with the carnival ever found out Lucas was my brother.

Andy and Kevin slipped off to hang out with a couple of the cheerleaders while Ron and I firmed up plans to go to the fairgrounds and get hired on. While we were talking, Judy Castle slipped into the seat across from me. Her motley collection of fruit from the serving line and her bottle of mineral water from home were signs that she was back on a diet again. I could never understand women like Judy. She had a dynamite figure - yet she spent half her life on a diet. I pointed that out to her as she sat down. "Men!" she sighed with mock seriousness as she rolled her eyes. "How do you think I keep this dynamite figure?" "Hey, whatever makes you happy," I laughed. That was the sort of relationship Judy and I had enjoyed since we were little kids. "We still on for Saturday?" She shrugged, causing her long red hair to shake. "I suppose. Unless someone better comes along."

I had to smile to myself at that. Judy never seemed to be particularly serious about any guy, although she dated regularly. Judy was another one of my classmates with good grades and high ambitions. She had her sights set on being a doctor like her father, and no romantic entanglements were about to slow her down. Matt Dillon could fly into town and ask for her hand and she'd probably laugh in his face. I was pretty much the same way. I had plans to eventually be a lawyer like my father. I didn't have time for a serious relationship either. That was what made Judy and I just right for each other in a platonic sort of way naturally.

"Hey, I'm better!" Ron said. "Yeah, and you didn't ask me out," Judy returned. Not that it would have done either of them any good. Judy wasn't Ron's type any more than Ron was Judy's type. Judy didn't care to date jocks -except me - and Ron had never been too fond of redheads like Judy. But they were friends nonetheless. "Say, who are you taking to the dance?" she asked Ron.

Ron shrugged. "Nobody. I'm not going." I looked at my friend in surprise. "I thought you were going to take April Mathers." "She already had a date," he replied laconically. It never ceased to amaze me that Ron could bully a two-hundred-plus pound linebacker into getting out of his way on the field but was so shy around girls. I knew several girls who would have gladly gone out with Ron. In a way, it was a shame Ron and Judy weren't attracted to each other.

She was one of the few girls Ron accepted as just one of the guys. I guess it was because Judy, Ron, and I had played together when we were young children and what sex you were didn't matter much. "Oops!" Judy said, gathering up her mostly uneaten lunch. "I forgot. I've got to see Mr. Simpson about a referral letter." "Referral for what?" I asked. "College, dummy. I've got to get my applications together." And with that, she was gone. "College?" I hadn't even started working on mine yet. Besides, I was planning on going to NU. With my grades, it would be no problem.

But I guessed Judy was probably applying to a lot of out-of-state schools, so maybe she needed to get her stuff together sooner. Well, Judy was nothing if not organized. Classes drug by that afternoon. Outside the windows, it looked like a warm summer day and I wanted to be out in it. The thought of going out to the fairgrounds and working that evening appealed to me. It was like a grand adventure in a new locale.

The old fairgrounds were at the foot of Main Street, just this side of the railroad tracks. They had been there for as long as there had been county fairs, but economics had changed all of that. Wheeler Foods was the largest company in Leeds. It's a small company that privately brands vegetables and meat products like canned stew, but as far as the City Fathers of Leeds were concerned, it might as well be General Motors. Very few people have heard of it, but nearly everyone in the country used one of their products without knowing it. Anyhow, Wheeler Foods was situated next to the railroad tracks, and they wanted to expand.

The problem was that the best direction to expand was right into the fairgrounds. So Dan Wheeler's dad, the current president of the company, bought the last tract of land from the old Carver farm and traded it to the county in return for the old fairgrounds. He even offered to build a new exhibit hall and set up a monument commemorating the Carver Homestead.

The Carvers had been the first family to settle in the county that now bore their name. We all learned about it in Nebraska History back in junior high. Jebediah Carver, his wife, son, and daughter, made the trek from Ohio just before the Civil War and set up a farm that eventually grew into a large agricultural operation. But like many families, the Carvers eventually left the farm and the county. Parcel by parcel, the farm was sold off by the heirs until only a few acres remained in family control. For some reason, the Carvers had always held onto the last few acres.

Word was that when Amelia Carver, Jebediah's daughter, had eventually inherited the entire farm, she had always insisted that the few acres around a thick grove of trees near town be held by the family. And strangely enough, she demanded the land remain fallow. No crops were ever raised on the land, in spite of the presence of a gentle stream on the property. She didn't even allow hunting, often calling in the sheriff in her later years to shoo off would-be hunters. Her heirs always honored her request. But now the last of the Carvers were gone, and the land had passed on to some distant cousins back in Ohio.

They had been anxious to sell the land, so Mr. Wheeler made an offer on the land that was quickly accepted. Then he proposed a land swap, offering the town the new land for the county fair while he expanded onto the old fairgrounds. It was a good deal for everyone. Since eighty percent of the people in the county lived in Leeds, the County Commissioners quickly followed the City Council's lead in approving the move, and the result of it all was a new venue for the county fair. I hadn't been out to the fairgrounds since the formal dedication just before Labor Day.

That was when they dedicated the monument to the Carvers down near the grove of trees on Red Willow Creek. We had all enjoyed a fine celebration that day, with all the city and county officials and their families in attendance. Dan Wheeler's dad spoke and told everybody about the two hundred new jobs down at the plant that would be possible because of the land swap. And in general, a good time was had by all.

So after school and football practice, I hurried home to grab a quick bite to eat so I could join Ron and try to get hired on setting up the rides and all. Usually, we ate as a family, but Mom was going to be busy with some of the fair exhibits put up by her various civic groups and wasn't going to be home until late. Lucas was eating at Dave Payne's house so that just left Dad and me. Dad had a late meeting with a client, so he had come home early to eat. "I warmed up some extra meatloaf," he told me after I had changed into some work clothes for the evening. "If you want anything else, you're on your own." "Meatloaf is great," I told him, piling a couple of slabs on my plate.

That, a couple of slices of bread, and a glass or two of milk were just enough to hold me. Maybe Ron and I would stop off for a burger after work assuming we got work. Dad was just finishing up. "I know you're trying to get to work tonight, so just leave the dishes in the sink. I'll get them when I get home." "Going to be late?" I asked, diving into my dinner. "Not too late," he replied. "I need to meet with Gus Travis about that work injury of his, but he doesn't get off until seven." "It's only six now," I noted. "What's the hurry?" "I've got to run by Doc Winter's clinic. She took some pictures of the monument out at the fairgrounds.

I thought I'd see how they came out. See you later." I was going to have to get my ears checked, I thought to myself. I knew Doc Winter had taken a few pictures out at the monument for official records. Photography was Doc's second love, next to the veterinary clinic. The problem was I could have sworn Dad had said "she" had the pictures. Dr. Samuel J. Winter was many things, but definitely not a "she." I must have just heard him wrong, I told myself. I picked up Ron and headed out to the fairgrounds. There was still plenty of light in the warm early evening, so the carnival should be pretty well set up before it got too dark.

We could see the truck trailers emblazoned with "Midwest Rides and Attractions" emblazoned in bright red on the side. Most of them looked as if they had already been unloaded. We reported in at the small trailer that served as an office for the show. One look at our size and the manager hired us on the spot. We'd be paid in cash at the end of the night, so there'd be no annoying payroll taxes withheld. Hey, we were not quite eighteen. Why should we want Social Security tax and all that stuff taken out of our pay?

Ron and I were assigned to set up the Tilt-a-Whirl. That's the ride where roundish carts open to the front twirl along on a wavy pathway. It's a fairly tame ride, but sometimes you can get them spinning fast enough to get a thrill. It's particularly fun when the mild g-forces spin you into a nice-looking girl sitting next to you. It's a way to cop a feel and make it look like the spin of the cart made you do it. Marty James was working with us, and he was hurting. Marty was a big guy nearly my size but he was a little out of shape.

What had probably appeared to the foreman to be muscle was really fat. He huffed and puffed, partially for effect, so Ron and I gave him a hand. "Thanks, guys," he said when we were given a short break before helping to set up the merry-go-round. "Man, I gotta get in shape!" "You've been saying that for years, Marty," I pointed out as I handed him a cold drink from the cooler provided for the crew. And it was true. Like most of the guys in my class, I had known Marty since I was a toddler. Our fathers were on City Council together, and we attended the same church. As long as I had known Marty, he had a tendency to be a little chubby. Like I said, he didn't appear fat - just a little on the pudgy side. He was the kind of guy who would be a wheezing fat man by the time he reached forty. "Damn!" he muttered, sniffing at one of his pits. "I'm gonna pit out this shirt." "So what's the big deal?" Ron laughed. "You have a hot date?" "As a matter of fact, I do." "What?" Ron and I chorused.

Marty was one of those guys who didn't date much. It wasn't that he was ugly or anything. He really wasn't a bad-looking guy in spite of his weight, and I would have pegged him about average in intelligence and personality. But he was always reaching a little too high. He couldn't understand why the cheerleaders and the other hot girls in the school preferred more toned, personable guys. "So who's the unlucky girl?" I asked. He nodded. "Her." It was getting dark, so we didn't get a good look at who he was nodding at.

Whoever she was, she must have had a dark complexion, for I couldn't make out her features in the evening shade of a nearby refreshment stand that was being built. I could make out her figure though small, slim, and well-shaped, framed by coils of dark hair. "Jeez, Marty, you hit the jackpot," Ron commented. "She looks okay." "She looks more than okay," I said, noting the gleam of white teeth as she smiled in the dim light. "Who is she?" "She works for the carnival," Marty explained. "I met her over by the manager's trailer.

She's hot for me too, guys. She's a fortuneteller." "So did she look in her crystal ball and tell you you were going to get lucky tonight?" Ron quipped. "Something like that," Marty replied. "We just started talking and she asked me back to her trailer after work. Of course, I said yes." "Of course," we agreed. With that we started back to work, but as I dropped the Cola can into the trash, I couldn't help but think she was staring at me from the shadows. I could almost feel her dark eyes looking all the way into my soul, and I could swear I saw the flash of white teeth. I shook my head. I had to be imagining it.

Marty called it quits about an hour later, collecting his pay and heading off to meet the friendly fortuneteller. I hoped he wouldn't have a heart attack when he got to her. As out of shape as he was, he was still huffing when he left with his money. Ron and I were kept on for a little longer, but by nine, everything was pretty well set up. Both of us felt good. It had been physical work and the money we now shoved in our wallets would come in handy. We were about to leave, our money collected, when I heard a small, high voice call from the shadows, "Steve?" I looked around and saw the outline of a girl. She was young no more than thirteen or fourteen but I didn't recognize her.