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Chapter 12 - I She What You Did There

Only once she’d settled into her vast, towering armchair did she begin, “I am here because I received a call at work that you’d been pulled out of class. But they didn’t say anything more than that.”

My dad, who’d slipped his coat and shoes off, answered for me, “It seems ridiculous. No reason at all. Sounds like some people were screwing around.”

Mom leveled her head at me, inviting me to offer my version. Since I was young, I’d long given up thinking I had any power before my mom. Any word I could impress upon her, any rhetorical sharpness, either met with a verbal prowess I could never match or a bedrock of stubbornness.

“During Biology, these two guys at my table were getting longer hair and...softer looking and other stuff like that. They got sent away. When they came back, they were fine but it happened again…and the girl next to me had her hair and nails grow out.”

Like a harsh judge, mom pointed her finger and had me go back through the sequence of events. When I got to Wes, she raised her head and frowned. He was a little bit infamous. My parents were supposed to meet him around the time we “broke up”. They vetted him in questions from me more than someone for a Supreme Court appointment.

Their suspicion heightened when I’d spilled the entire story. My mom pressed, “So, this is all true?”

At the focus of her gaze, I wanted to recant but there was no wiggle room. There were plenty of times when I could wiggle into blaming myself a little but this wasn’t one of those.

Mom leaned on her wrist and asked, “Does the school have any proof you did anything?”

I asserted I didn’t do anything, admitting I just got quietly upset at Wes and that was all. Mom stretched back and said, “Perhaps you should go to the walk-in clinic. Or maybe you should go back to not eating wheat.”

I told her I felt fine. She pondered this and then asked me, “Could you sit next to dad?”

Carefully, I moved closer. No matter where I sat on the couch, there was no way he would be outside of the supposed range of influence. My body felt hot and that lump wasn’t going anywhere. I tried to settle down and watch TV. Dad gave me a little rub on the back, which I appreciated. Mom just watched for a bit.

And so we waited. More than anything, I didn’t want whatever it was to still be there. I was sure my mom was thinking about what had happened at the restaurant and was looking for a repeat. I tried to breathe normally. I stayed there and waited with everyone else.

Some fragments of news with its subtle interference of static passed over my eyes. I tried to watch dad more often, thinking if I did then maybe things wouldn’t suddenly change. Hadn’t it been when I looked away? But my attention wandered. I couldn’t keep focused forever. And it wasn’t long before whatever it was, started to have an effect.

One look over and dad’s hair was shaggier. Another soon after and his mustache was thinner along with his stubble. The black hairlines across his wrists erased away. I shut my eyes and leaned back. Dad started to ask me what was wrong, but he stopped with the pubescent shift of his voice. I grimaced and opened my eyes.

Mom watched what was happening to dad and turned her eyes sharply to me as she interrogated, “What are you doing?”

I shook my head and begged her, “Nothing. I’m just sitting here. Same as the restaurant. Same as school. I’m not doing anything…I swear.”

Tears blotted out my vision as my dad finally scooted away from me. Rubbing her eyes, my mom pronounced, “I’ll call the doctor.”

I finally retreated to the other couch. As the moments passed, dad slowly returned to himself. I wasn’t sure if it was at the same speed as the other day, but I hoped so. I tried not to think about much as mom used the old hang-up rotary to call for the closest urgent care office.

There were a few in the area. Most ranged from fast and lousy to slow and even lousier. She settled on the best option.

I went in her car. She leaned towards the door and away from me. I quietly told her, “It…whatever it is…didn’t really cause much trouble to other girls. It…umm…made them look nicer.”

Backing out around the curve, my mom raised her eyebrows and sighed. “We don’t know what it is though. But maybe we could sell it at a salon or something when we find out.” I wasn’t sure if she was serious.

I nodded quietly and pulled my legs up close. We passed the weed-populated former lot of the supermarket which got torn down when I was just a little kid, the only one within walking distance. Then and ever after, it was a fenced-in dirt patch for traveling carnivals in summer, pumpkins soon, and Christmas trees in the winter. From the main street, we worked our way down and past a few strip malls.

At that age, I always felt a certain fondness for where I lived. It was where I was born. Brookville had plenty of stuff to complain about. It was already spiraling out of control in the sands with a building boom which often crashed when the military stopped ordering new warplanes. Mom worked for the government at the local Air Force base. That meant she at least had good insurance and better pay than when she was working at the health food store.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

We crossed the train tracks and into the other side of town. It was nicer and it was the side with a new bookstore, so I always liked it more than our end. Even then, the Christian bookstores outnumbered all other kinds. Though we had and still have a myriad of Wiccan and New Age bookstores and businesses.

We made our way up and down the big hill in town. Back then was before they buried the view in houses peeking over the edge. You could look out the window and feel a near vertigo as the whole area passed beneath you like you were flying, if only for a moment.

I checked on mom every so often. Her hair, often in a darkened perm, did seem a little denser and the faint, sparse silvery hairs on her cheek she never gave a shit about as a consequence of menopause had vanished. Her eyes behind her glasses and jutting nose just aimed ahead.

I didn’t bother to talk to her. Probably for the best. But still, she spoke.

“You know I love you. My little girl when I didn’t know I would ever have any children. This doesn’t change anything.”

I appreciated that, even though the words made me pause and think about them. So often, she slipped in a backhanded compliment or a passive complaint. My stomach tensed and I just told her, “I know.”

We arrived at the doctor soon after that and they were busy. Still, the best place to go. We camped in an unoccupied corner. Mom filled out my paperwork and operated as a wall between me and the next person, who was fortunately an older woman with an oversized gray purse. Beyond that was a little boy trying to climb all over his seat as his mother urged him in whispers to sit. The rest of the room was a dull roar of little bits of conversation, coughs, and sniffles. I felt a flash of illness just being there.

Fortunately, people were called back quickly, so I knew it was just a matter of time before we were seen. This was a doctor I’d been to before who operated decent hours. I tried to find interest in an ancient motorsports magazine and an oversized ad book for some depression meds.

Mom continued to subtly change. Her voice took on a faint, softer tone as she told me she needed to use the restroom. No smartphones then, so I could only use my imagination to pass the time.

It helped. Soon after mom returned, we were called back. The nurse made sure to take my weight. Then on went the blood pressure cuff and pulse clip. It was all the same stuff I’d encountered at the nurse’s office but she had different questions as she paged through what we’d given her.

“So, she’s here about an infection?”

My mom shook her head and explained, “No. Whoever she’s around changes form.”

The nurse gave my mom a lingering, skeptical look before clearing her throat. “Right…when did…uh…when did this start?”

I took over. “Last Friday, after I was cleared by my allergy doctor to eat wheat, we went out for supper and there was some…strange stuff. Friday afternoon? Then, a lot of stuff happened today. I saw the school nurse, and I got sent home.”

She gave a quick nod and then asked for the school contact information. It was just after lunch, so I hoped there were people around who could answer their questions.

They led us into one of the exam rooms and I sat on the table while my mom took a chair off to the side. The room was big enough that she was able to sit out of arm’s reach.

I watched as her hair returned to its normal length and her little silvery hairs showed up in the stark overhead light. I leaned back and tried to get comfortable on the thin, noisy paper pulled across the exam table. I was so used to doctors that this actually felt comforting. I still wanted to have something to eat and mentioned that along to my mom.

She groaned and nodded that she’d skipped her lunch too. With a quick look though, she promised to pick something up for us to take home.

Time passed in the way it always did when waiting for a doctor. The next person to see me was a nurse practitioner who asked the most rudimentary of questions.

“So, there have been no physical changes to you?”

“Right.”

“But you said there have been changes…to other people?”

“Right.”

“How so?”

I rattled off what I’d seen. I summed it up, “Basically. The guys at school and my dad look more like women…girls…such…after being around me for several minutes. Other girls get some sort of…beautification, I guess? I dunno what’s going on.”

She took a long time to write a note and then inquired, “So, you’re claiming you have some sort of…infectious…femininity that comes out of you?”

She almost said the title of the story. Did you get that? Roll credits? So close...

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Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist