I should have been a girl - Chapter 5

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I lie and worry about going alone into the wide world out there, which has so many dangers for a young girl and even more for a young, teenage trans girl. If I'm discovered, my fate could be worse than any facing a teenage girl. I know how some really hate the trans community, for haven't I suffered already as a trans person, and the treatment meted out to me by the Brethren, was by the standards of civilization in my country, the great US of A, sane and just in the judgment of many, although not all by a very long way. Alone out there in the wide World and dressed as a girl, I could suffer much worse if discovered by criminals, perverts, and transphobic people. Why do others involve themselves in the private lives of strangers?

Why does it matter to them if someone is gay or trans, black or white, or any shade? Why does it matter whether one goes to Meeting, church, chapel, mosque, or any other building for worship? Why do people concern themselves with what others do when what they do is not harmful to anyone else? Humans are just vile animals attacking anyone who doesn't conform to a narrow profile of what a human should be. Now I'm going to use a new word I learned from TV today. Religious in society, tend to conflate 'belief 4 H'with 'proven' and condemn Oilier for not believing as they do. That is not to say that all religious people are bad, just some seem to get things completely out of proportion, like Dad and the Brethren and like my Mom has become.

Alone out there and in disguise, I shall be like a spy, an agent among the enemy, playing a part, and if the mask slips, if any little mannerism, gives away my real identity, I could face real danger.

Eventually, I fall asleep. When I wake it's to find Mother at my bedside.

'Get up Craig, you sleepy head. Didn't you hear your alarm?' 'No Mom. I couldn't get to sleep last night for ages.' 'Why?'

'I'm worried that the Brethren will get me again, Mom. You shouldn't have allowed that. It was wrong Mom, so wrong. I'll never forgive those ugly nasty old men. They stripped me, cut off my panties, cut them off me, Mom. Do you realize how terrified I was? I shall never go to a Meeting again, so don't try to make me.'

It was done to save you from yourself, to get you out of the idea that you should or can be a girl. That is not the path God has worked out for you. You strayed from the Way and they tried to bring you back to the path. Thinking of yourself as a girl is wrong. God sent us a boy and boy you are going to be. We love you as a boy, please don't let us down. If you persist in this girl-ish nonsense, we can't love you.'

That's an awful thing to say, Mom. Don't you realize?'

`I have to be firm, even though it hurts me to be. You are a boy Craig. I'll have to speak to Doc Madely and send you to a psychiatrist. Now get up and get ready for school. You have thirty minutes to be in the car.'

`I'd like to see a psychiatrist and tell about those horrible old men and the way I'm treated.' It's a threat and I feel powerful for turning the tables on my Mom.

'Get up this minute.' She says testily.

I get up. I'm glad I've said what I have, for when they discover I've disappeared tomorrow, they will perhaps understand why. I feel really vengeful and I know that's a bad thing, but I need them to think about things and know they have driven me from their home because they just don't love me enough. They don't love me for being me. They love what they think I should be and not the person I am.

This then is my last day of school, here in Pantonsville. In this little settlement in northern Virginia, General Jackson marched his ragtag army through when the place was just a few cabins. His starving barefoot soldiers probably killed and ate all the livestock and passed on to die in a dreadful war, that had done few but the rich arms traders and railway builders any good at all. After all the killings, black people were still bottom of the ladder and would remain there for well over another century, perhaps to this day. The South was devastated, and Georgia was laid to waste by Sherman's March to the Sea. It was horrible, no right on either side. They ruthlessly made money, and the good fell by the wayside.

These are the thoughts in my head as I go to school for I will remember the place where I grew up and although at this time I'm so unhappy, I have fond memories of when I was a child even though that young childhood was full of mystery that I was apparently a boy. Coping later, with the expectations of my parents, that I would be a smaller carbon copy of their first-born son was what I could not live up to.

We reach school. I don't hang. I'm out of the car with 'Bye Mom', and go to the oak tree where my ever-loving friend Jenn stands and we go immediately into class as this morning, due to my oversleeping, I'm late.

'I thought for a minute you'd already gone.' 'Overslept Jenn, last night couldn't get to sleep for thinking.' 'You must be so frightened.' 'Terrified. Terrified of what might happen and what my life will be.' 'Payton is worried too. He doesn't want you to do this, really wants no part but he'll stand by his promise. He's all set. I'm so going to miss you.'

'I'll miss you more Jenn and one day I'll come back. I will see you again and we will keep in touch via Facebook and Snapchat. Just not at first, not till the search has been called off. I was thinking, they are definitely going to want answers from you. Can you lie? Can you say I was talking of California but I never said I was going to run? They will expect you to know something as we are besties.

'Oh, I can lie and look innocent, don't worry about that. I have se-crets from my parents too, don't all kids?'

'I guess so. Just my secret has more consequences.'

'Somehow Alyssa, you have to let me know you're safe. You must take Payton's number and text him, then he can tell me.'

'Yes, I'll do that.'

'And here,' she produces a little parcel. 'For you to wear tomorrow. No don't open it. Put it at the bottom of your bag, a bra and pants set. I shall imagine you wearing them on your perilous journey. Promise, you will be careful won't you.'

'Yes Jenny, of course. I know how dangerous it is for a young girl and even more so for me. Thanks, Jenn, I bet it's a pretty set, isn't it? I shall think of you all the time but especially when I'm wearing them.'

She throws her arms around me and kisses my cheek. Graeme Arnott passing by with Jon Landar says, 'You're wasting your time on the queer Jenny.'

We take no notice, instead, she holds my hand and we walk to Assembly.

As the day passes, it seems slowly and then seems to rush and my mind is not on my work. I'm asked a question by Miss Tremaison in geometry and I don't even know she's speaking to me until she's by my side, rapping on the desk with her ruler. 'Craig Cantrell. Stand up.' There are titters around the class and someone says loud enough, 'Girlie Boy, Miss.' There are more titters.

'Who said that?' No one answers but that seems to have broken Miss Tremaison's train of thought.

'Sit down Craig.' She goes back to her dais. 'The square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the square of the two adjacent sides. This is a most important theorem, because?'

I put my hand up. 'Yes Craig, you are back with us now?' 'Yes miss. Miss it's important because if you know the 3-4-5 triangle you can always build a vertical wall or build a square room.' 'Because?'

'Oh, mm, yes Miss. Because if you make a triangle with that ratio, then the angle of the two shorter sides is always ninety degrees or if you like, vertical to the ground.'

'Very good Craig.'

As we file out, she calls me over. I stand and wait while everyone else leaves and there are jeers and leers and giggles, kissing noises, pokes in the ribs, and a punch or two.

When we are alone, she asks, 'What's going on Craig?' 'Miss?' I pretend there's nothing. 'The remarks, 'girlie boy' and the sniggers.' 'Miss I don't know what you mean?'

'Something is going on.' She walks to the classroom door and closes it. She takes a seat on a desk and pulls one knee up and clasps it with both hands. 'What is going on? You were never one of the popular guys but now you seem to be an object of mockery. 'Girlie boy?'

'Miss?'

'Don't pretend. I want to help if I can.'

I look blank and frown. I see I shan't get out of there without saying something. 'Miss my brother, he told people I dress as a girl.'

'Do you?' I break down and tears fill my eyes. 'It's OK Craig, I just want to help.' 'Like have people pray over me, Miss?' 'Good gracious no. Why do you say that?'

I tell her about the Brethren and Mom and Dad and my brother and knowing that I should have been a girl. It's all told while my eyes are tear-filled and my nose is running and Miss keeps giving me more tissues from the box on her desk.

'Well now. What are your parents doing about it?'

'Nothing Miss, they think the devil has left me but Mom says she will send me to a psychiatrist miss and if that's the wrong psychiatrist, he could recommend all sorts of the wrong treatments.

'Has what they call the devil, really left?' 'No Miss. There was no devil, just that's how I am.' 'How is your relationship with your family?' 'I hate them, Miss, for what they allowed the Brethren to do.' 'Hate them?' 'Yes Miss, I hate them.' 'Are you OK? You're not in danger?' 'No Miss, I told Mom I won't go to Meeting anymore.' 'And what did she say?'

Nothing Miss.'

`Craig, if you are in any danger, you can always run to me. I live not far from you, a short bike ride away. Here, I'll write my address. You won't do anything silly, will you?'

You mean self-destruct?' `I suppose that's one way of putting it, yes.' No Miss, I want to live but live as a girl.' `It's a difficult path you choose.' `No Miss, no choice on my part, it, trans chose me. Miss One doesn't choose it like being born with a handicap. It's in my brain. Read miss.'

`Well Craig, I'm sorry. Remember I'm your friend. What can I read to help me understand?'

`Thank you, Craig. I think you need to see the Counsellor. Think about it and come back to me. Run along then and have lunch. I'm here for you.'

`Thanks, Miss. Miss this is our secret?'

`Yes Craig, if you want it to be. Do you? Might it not be better to have this in the open? You should really speak to the school Counsellor at least.'

`No Miss. Life at school would be intolerable.'

'It seems pretty well intolerable now. The Counsellor would not broadcast it.'

`Yes miss but while I don't confirm what my brother said, perhaps there's a chance it will all blow over.'

`Then, it's our secret, but if anything else happens to you, then no more secret. I will have to do something.'

`Thanks, Miss. It's good to have one grown-up friend.' Do you have a friend in school?' Yes Miss, Jenny Aguero. She knows Miss and she, well she advises Miss.'

Advises?' `Yes Miss, like clothes and makeup. She's a brilliant friend Miss.' I see I'm glad you have a good friend. Off you go.' `Thanks, Miss, thanks for being so lovely. I was beginning to think I was just a freak.' No not a freak, just in a minority.'

Mom picks me up as usual, Robert is at football training so I can sit in the front for once.

Good day dear?' No, Mom.' 'Why?' `Because Robert came to our table at lunch yesterday and told everyone that I dressed in girls' clothes. You can guess how that has helped me.'

`Oh, did he? I'll speak to him. He only did it to try to shame you out of this belief that you're a girl. I bathed you as a baby and as a child. I can tell you, you are not a girl and never will be, even if you have some dreadful and sinful surgery. You cannot change what God has done. He made you. That is why the Brethren did what they did. That is why we will not recognize you as anything but our son, Craig.'

`Robert has made my life impossible at school. You and Dad and all of the Brethren, are so wrong Mom. If you can't see that, if you love your idea of God more than me, the child that came from your womb Mom, then perhaps you don't love me at all.'

It is because we love you that we do as we do and say as we say.'

We have drawn into our drive and she stops in front of the garage Dad when he arrives home will put Mom's car away and his own car, because he goes to work early at his hardware downtown, will stand out. The routine of our household seems written in stone and is as cold as the stones that line our driveway making it visible under twelve inches of snow in winter.

Can I ask you Mom, which is most important in a person? The brain or the body?'

`They are equally important.'

`No Mom. The body, hands, arms, legs, feet torso, even the head, the skull, none of those are important without what is inside the head. People are only certified dead when the brain ceases to function. The body, is merely the vehicle for the brain, at the command of the brain, just as the car has been on our drive from school to here. Without you or someone at the wheel, being the brain for this machine, the machine is nothing, it would just sit and gradually rot. In religion, we believe don't we, that the soul that resides in our brain goes to heaven, but our body remains on earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes.

The soul is our Id, ego, and superego according to Freud, is part of our brain telling us who we are, and goes to heaven, we believe, the Id or the soul resides in our brains, not our worthless bodies. Look at that clever professor, Stephen Hawking. His body is completely useless but his brain is brilliant.'

'I don't know what you're talking about and nor do you I think. You try to think too deeply and complicate matters. God makes us in his image and maps out our way in this World until the grave receives us.'

'Is that it Mom? Is it that simple? Then we may as well do nothing, nothing to change the World, nothing to improve our lot, nothing for others, leave it all to God.'

`God helps those that help themselves.'

`Now that is what one calls a 'truism' Mom, so obvious and yet so lacking in any detail. Mom is God then both male and female if we are all made in his image? I mean we always picture God as a man with a great white beard. Are women not made in his image then?'

'Of course, we are.'

`Logically Mom how does that work?'

'You are becoming too clever Craig and clever, clever boys come unstuck.'

'Is that in the Good Book too Mom?'

'Stop your nonsense. I'm losing patience. Get inside and do your homework.'

'Yes, Mom. What's for dinner?' I say knowing I have gone far enough. I want her to hurt when I've departed from her life.

'Chicken pie.'

'Great, thanks, Mom. I'm going up to do my homework. I hope you will say something to Robert because he is making my life impossible Mom.'

'Yes, dear. I'll ask father to speak to him but you need to change and I don't see that happening yet.'

I go up and I just fiddle about. There is no sense in doing schoolwork because I shall not go in tomorrow or ever again to that school. I look through my things, to make sure there's nothing else I want to take with me. I look at Fergie, my teddy bear I've had all my thirteen or fourteen years, at least as long as I can remember.

He's going to be my traveling companion and I wrap him carefully in a scarf I steal from Mom's scarf drawer. It's her best, pure silk, light turquoise blue and yellow ochre and she loves it. Perhaps there are therefore two loved things she will miss, me and the treasured scarf. I find three unused lipsticks and I take them too, as well as a bracelet I have never seen her wear and some gold dangly eardrops. I add a ring to my collection. I feel no guilt, these are all things a Mom might give a daughter or a daughter would help herself to. It was ever thus and whatever the rest of my family think, I am a daughter to my holier than thou parents and sister to my truly horrid brother, who I feel sure will grow up an absolute creep, a man who feels it his right to put his hand up a girl's skirt.

I close my laptop and pack everything in my backpack, all the things that are both male and female. I shall leave my toilet articles and buy new, ones more befitting a young girl. I look around for any other treasures. There are none that really hold good or sentimental memories, because, my life as a boy in this household has been so grey and meaningless.

I leave things, locking my door against interference by my beastly brother. I have only contempt for him after outing me at school. How could he? Why would he unless evil really lurks within him?

I go down into the kitchen. Mom has done everything and just waits for Dad to enter via the garage when he comes from his hardware business. She reads the local paper. I switch on the kitchen TV and she says, 'Now what have you switched that on for?'

The news Mom. Just thought I would see what's happening in the World outside Pantonsville.'

Whatever for?'

`Because life doesn't stop at the city boundary, Mom.'

I switch to the local news program and I'm mystified by what is going on. There are pictures from Beltway and people being killed it appears indiscriminately in West Virginia and Baltimore and Washington. This is 2002, a year after 11/9. What had seemed like a single incident the News reader says, has now turned into serial shootings.

'Mom, why are people so horrid?'

Because they have not found God.' She replies.

That's not true Mom. Like those people with the Twin Towers, they said that their God wanted them to do that horrible thing, killing innocent people. They had found their God.'

Then it's the wrong God.'

'No Mom, Muslims have the same God as us only they have Mo-hammed instead of Jesus.'

Dad comes through the door. He looks at the screen and kisses Mom. 'Bad news. It sure is a sinful World.' He ruffles my hair. 'You OK, feeling better yet son.'

'No Dad. I'll never be better as you call it. Can we eat Mom? I'm starving and I want to get to bed, I'm really tired today.' I just don't want to be with either of them or my beastly brother when he comes in.

I eat dinner and the chicken pie is really good, one of my favorites, although it has all this white sauce in it. When I was just a kid, I hated that but now it's really nice. The last supper.

'Night Dad, night Mom,' I say and I go to bed. I don't kiss either of them. I don't feel for them any longer. If they can't love me and understand, what's the use?

I shower and get into bed and wonder where I shall next sleep. It's a terrifying thought. I'm nearly fourteen and I shall soon be homeless. I just hope that Uncle Jem will take me in and not give me away. If he sends me back, I would rather die. As I lie in the dark, I consider throwing myself on the tracks under a train. I know it would be dreadful, but it would be mercifully quick. I would be out of this World in which I'm considered a misfit by so many. I wonder why the human race, in our advanced state of civilization and societal development, has to oppress minorities or those that have strayed from the 'norm'. With that last plaintiff thought, I fall into a mentally exhausted sleep.

I awaken early. It's still dark and I lie terrified at what I've planned to do. A small voice inside says, 'It's not too late, you don't have to go.' Then another voice recalls the appalling exorcism of my supposedly devil-infested body and I know that as a trans girl, I stand no chance in this family. No, I have made a decision and I will abide by it. If I'm to flourish in this World, if I am to live in the beautiful World, then there is no alternative. To stay here as a boy will cause my soul to wither, like a grape left on a vine, and just like that withered grape, I will eventually fall to the ground empty and completely dead. Somehow and, painfully no doubt, I will release the real me.

The step I take today will be a super large one. Beginning my life full-time as a female when the most time I spent was one period of a few hours shopping for my clothes looking androgynous with Jenn, was not much of a rehearsal. Oh a few times in her house when we were alone, but that's not like being out in the World. It's reassuring though, that I can apparently `pass' as a girl, even in boy clothing.

Trans people do not need a rehearsal, being trans is not learned; it is just there, to whatever degree. Being a boy or a girl though, is of course learned to an extent, how to dress in clothes that suit one, how to respond to other people and so many other things. I shall just have to use instinct and observation. Jenn has taught me much, but her girl education has been all her life. I've just had a few lessons. The ways of a girl, usually learned from one's mom, have not and will not be passed down to me by my Mom. I'm on my own. Yet for at least half my thirteen years, I have studied 'girl', watched and copied, and, according to my brother, I act and react like a girl. Thank you, brother, you don't realize what a compliment that is.