Radioactive Femininity TG - Part 14-END

Radioactive Femininity

Part 14 – “Safe He Not Guaranteed” *Concluded*


No….no no no…there had to be a simple explanation for all this.

The flowers had always been poppies but me (no actual grammar intended), with my lousy vision, had completely misinterpreted a tiny flower for an enormous one. Perfect logic. Okay…

I was really tired and…in a novel I’d read for that wasted freshman reading class, they talked about false memories. It had always been poppies but something along the way had changed my recollection of the event. That’s why the words I expressed before involved sunflowers when there were none. That’s why the memory is especially messed up now. Human memory is an absolute disaster, mine worst of all.

There. I could breathe again. I smiled at Lea and told her, “Nah. I was just thinking of sunflowers…and sunflower seeds. Kinda hungry. Let’s go grab that snack.”

Though Lea cocked her head and held on to a questioning look long after we’d passed the mural, she didn’t ask me any further questions. Using the change left from lunch, we each got what amounted to a candy bar with some peanut butter and nuts. And I got Lea a little bag of honey-roasted sunflower seeds.

We ate and took the long way back through the trio of drama buildings. They looked more like concrete, oversized garages. I’d once gone to a cozy, fun improv show at the big one.

The art gallery was closed on Friday but Lea peered through the darkened windows and pointed out a few works she really liked.

As we finished our snacks and approached the Sidewinders Stadium parking lot, Lea asked me, "What are your plans, like for college and you know...life?"

I didn't bother making plans before I became a battery which leaked radiant girl energy all over everyone. I'd left the medical academy. I’d been scared off by AP classes. I’d selected the most useless electives, like reading. I'd taken more than one of the alphabet soup standardized tests and that led to fancy, colorful mail by universities all ready to receive my money.

Realistically, I accepted what my parents said that this local college was cheaper for my first two years than anywhere else I could go. But life?

I barely had plans for meeting Lea's parents and what I might say to them.

We threw our trash away in the nearest can (I did not attempt to literally throw it) and I tried to think of a decent answer to Lea’s question.

She smiled at my vague, regurgitated college plans and frowned slightly when my words petered out. I massaged my neck and admitted, “I have no idea…”

“Same here…” Lea clasped my hand and sighed to herself before admitting, “I’ve regaled you with stories of my pharmacist uncle. I helped him out one summer with inventory and other stuff behind the scenes. I love drawing but I anticipate that won’t become anything more than a hobby. And then there’s…” She gestured to herself with her free hand.

I gave her hand a little squeeze and she continued, “I mean…it kinda changes everything but hopefully not as much as I fear.”

The sun neared the horizon and night students were starting to show up. We continued along the edge of the parking lot as it led into the tennis courts and the gym.

I felt another of those random spells of uncharacteristic optimism as I told Lea, “Don’t focus on fear. Don’t dwell on what doesn’t make sense or terrifies you. Instead, think about all the ways that today went right. Think about all the moments that made you smile. Imagine those moments piling up. Think of all the unimagined, but inevitable great things.”

Lea leaned into another hug and quietly answered, “I’ll do that. As much as I conceivably can.”

I was glad to comfort Lea even though I felt more like the person who needed comforting. Uncertain memories. Shadows that moved on their own. A girl who hated my guts. Parents I made cry about their child. And a power I could still barely comprehend.

At least the college only had the normal sorts of shadows. And I was watching, checking even rooftops and the densest parts of the trees as we turned onto the path which took us past the gym and back to my dad’s classroom.

When we arrived, he was waiting for us with his briefcase filled and the lights already off. We gathered up our things and left together.

Lea actually took the lead, walking right beside my dad as we made our way to the car. He asked first about my day, stressing, “Nothing crazy happened?”

No, I didn’t make any more girls. I didn’t even get close compared to Thursday.

“No more than usual. There was a lousy identities test in math though.” I figured he’d be more interested in that than anything else I could offer. Probably should’ve mentioned Natalie’s threat but he didn’t need to know about that yet.

Dad was quick to leap on the math thing and ask if I did thing X, or thing Y that he’d mentioned. Yes, I remembered those things but they didn’t work out for me. Lea kept quiet until dad glanced over at her, took a deep breath, and asked, “You…uh…alright?”

Lea wrapped her hands around her pack as we neared the car. “I’m doing my best. Your daughter has been a kind and faithful friend when I’ve needed help. And I’ve done everything possible to return that favor so she’s unburdened.”

My dad’s answer to that was a steady nod with a simple, “Good to hear.”

He didn’t have anything to say about me and Lea sitting in the back. I placed myself as far from dad as I could, same as the drive yesterday. Lea leaned against me with a faint, calm smile.

I didn’t try to focus energy on her one way or the other but I couldn’t help the warm feeling that seemed to draw her closer. Despite how cautiously my father drove, we made it to Lea’s home sooner than I expected.

Her dad sat at the edge of a wooden bench on the front porch. He sprung to his feet when we were a few houses over. I’d seen him a few times, mostly at back to school and once or twice when we were an awkward couple.

He had several inches on Wes and a full but carefully-groomed beard best described as…Riker. Didn’t look much like the character otherwise but he had that same sort of beard. He wore a full, gray suit. Lea’s mom was nowhere to be seen.

Their house was newer than ours but pretty much every house on this side of town was. It was one of those sandy-colored tract homes with terracotta tile roofs wedged onto a cramped lot with a dinky tree out front.

I let Lea get out first but tagged along closely. They exchanged a few words in Spanish. Lea brushed her hair back. Her father fidgeted in place before shaking my dad’s hand. The pit bull next door went nuts, howling and vaulting against the narrow fence.  

“Head on inside”, Lea’s dad encouraged.

I followed Lea as our fathers' voices faded between the yelping dogs.  

The front room had a long, gray sofa and the walls were filled with family photos, floral decorations, and plenty of religious symbols, especially the large lithograph of a haloed, bearded Jesus gazing in my direction.

Lea set her bag by a table with a few cooking magazine and a potted fern. From the kitchen, a woman leaned into the hallway to inquire, “…Mijo?”

And that was as much as I comprehended the Spanish between them. I did understand the difference in her saying “mijo” and not “mija”. Lea didn’t stress it the other way but she did relay her name several times.

So far as her mom, Lea had good cause to be wary. She had on a loose, maroon sweater and her chest thoroughly distended it. It was way the heck out there and she wasn’t a big woman in any other respect. While she had the same thick, shoulder-length black hair as Lea, there were a few artificial, lighter streaks.

After some words, she looked me in the eye and asked, “You’re Kenzie, right?”

I smiled and nodded but kept quiet as she continued, “Wes talked about you…several times. I always wanted to meet you.”

She shook my hand and ushered us into a living area, behind a nice kitchen and a dining table, where we sat on a brown couch

We went through the usual courtesies. She offered us something to eat. We accepted a little with the promise of a full meal later. The perfunctory stuff faded as Lea’s dad walked in and watched me. He took a chair from the table and sat across from us.

First, he looked at me with his hands folded and said, “I just spoke to your father. He would like for you to call him around nine to be picked up whether this school project is finished or not.”

Then, he gazed at Lea. He shut his eyes a moment and brushed at his beard. “Wes…what’s going on?” He leaned forward on his heels. His wife laid a hand on the dinner table.

Scooting forward in the couch, Lea found the words, “A lot…lately…”

Looking between me and Lea, Mr. Betancourt elaborated, “You stayed with the Wallers last night. You told me not worry about you because you were safe. And you chose not to come home earlier…”

With a tip of her head, Lea pointed out, “I’m home now. I’m not…going to run away.”

Settling back in his chair, Mr. Betancourt noted, “I wasn’t worried about that. I’m not worried if you need time away or…whatever you need. I’m just…The look in your eyes last night when you left…I saw the same look in Uncle Alonzo’s eyes the weekend before...what he did to himself. That terrified me. I don’t…don’t care what you look like, what name you take, or any other small thing. All I need to know…is that you’re okay.”

Mrs. Betancourt grimaced and clutched the edge of the table with her head down.

Lea held her hands and took a deep breath. “Mom, dad….I’m alright. Truly. Last night, yeah. I felt like I had nothing left. Like I was drowning in a me that wasn’t me. But Kenzie…” She put a hand on my shoulder. “She was there for me. As a friend. As more than I can imagine. She saved me.”

And I was also the cause of all her grief in the first place. I held her hand and gave a measured smile. Mr. Betancourt nodded at me and offered, “Thank you, Kenzie. I don’t understand much of this. How it happened…what forces wrought this. But I prayed all day for strength for my whole family.”

I looked at Lea’s father. While he didn’t have tears in his eyes, it could feel he was holding them back.

And what if I told him I was the force that wrought this? That with a bitter, vindictive whim over Wes giggling at my writing nearly two years ago, I’d somehow willed him into a small, cute girl forever. Sure, I told myself I didn’t know what thought or action led to what but I could sense it deep inside. I’d wanted Wes to hurt. I’d wanted him to be a girl completely and utterly. And only with my guilt had I altered him further so that pain stopped. Altered him so he adored me for what I’d done.

I was too big a coward to do more than think those words.

Lea brushed her hair back and said, “It’s as crazy and incomprehensible for me. But what I understand is…It will be alright. I may sound different and look different and even feel different but I love you just the same. I’m Wes, even though I like the name Lea.”

Carefully, Lea rose from her seat and wrapped her arms around her dad. Her mom soon joined the hug. I politely looked away.

I did my best not to involve myself in their moment. I found stuff on the walls to look at, such as crucifixes. If I was some sort of demon or…monster then they weren’t working.

Glancing back, I saw Lea’s mom give her a kiss on the head. She flinched a little, as any good teenager should about a kiss from their mom.

After that, things assumed a strange sort of normalcy. Questions about dinner. Did I have anything I was allergic to? Mrs. Betancourt seemed to recall an allergy from something Wes had said.

“Not anymore.”

They’d be having baked flounder with mixed veggies and fruit. Lea’s mom was some sort of fish-eating vegetarian. I remembered that much. Eventually, I was alone with Lea’s dad.

He gave a little nod at me and took a deep breath before asking, “What did you do?”

I tensed up. Prickles on the back of my neck. His gaze didn’t seem accusatory. Calmly, I asked what he meant.

“When I picked up my…son from school on Tuesday, I couldn’t believe it. But the teachers assured me that the girl in the nurse’s office was my child. I didn’t want to believe it but…sitting with her, seeing her face, and looking beyond her face…I knew. Somehow, this was my Wes.” He swallowed roughly before continuing.

“Wes explained that uh…you told him in a class that you have this strange curse. That those around you become girls. He didn’t believe you. But then he started changing to… how he is now. Is that correct?”

That was technically accurate. I nodded and tried not to let my nervousness show. He folded his hands again, in the shape of a prayer.

“We took him to a local clinic. Useless. But he’s healthy, as far as they can tell. They wanted to put all of us with a family psychiatrist. Most of the week, he just stayed in bed. My wife stayed home a few days to help. He barely spoke. I worried so much. His girlfriend came around a few times but she couldn’t do much either. Last night, they were yelling. I know she mentioned you. But Wes stormed off. Said he was going for a walk but…as I said, the look in his eyes terrified me. Time passed and I was paralyzed. I thought about driving around, searching for him. But then we got a call…”

He reached a hand out and gave a single shake of his head. “Wes had made it to your place. He was fine. He sounded normal, despite everything. I wondered…Am I dreaming? Am I awake? Or did I break? But all the phone calls since and seeing Wes now…I have to ask myself, what did you do to save my child?”

With a ripple of relief, I settled into the couch. I held my hands and told him, “I honestly don’t know. I don’t know how this started, why whatever this is began and why it affected Wes more than anyone else. I wondered…if it’s because we were together and everything. But, last night, Wes was in a dark, terrible place when I found him. I pleaded with him. I held him. I begged and prayed for something…someone to help him. It felt like monsters were closing in. I…prayed so hard that he would be safe and protected and…he was okay…”

Mr. Betancourt brought his hands to his mouth and shut his eyes. Did he sense anything in the words I’d chosen? Did he detect what I’d left out and the way I’d shaded things? I almost wanted to amend them until he said softly, “God watched over you both. Thank you.”

I felt more relief than shame. But did I really need to tell him that I might’ve mentally willed this upon Wes in the first place and then willed Lea into being? I couldn’t prove it or disprove it.

He eased back in his chair as Lea and his wife returned. Lea had changed out of her sweater and blue flannel and into a plain, pink top with gray, drawstring cotton pants. She turned left and right a few times before announcing, “Finally found one that fits. Technically.” With a quick grimace, she raised one shoulder, then the other.

Her first bra. Mr. Betancourt gave a tense nod and remarked, “Good. Your mom can…keep taking care of that. Just don’t get like your sister, Isy. I still have headaches.”

Lea blushed and quickly nodded. I remembered Wes had mentioned a rebellious, middle sister once.

Dinner was ready soon after that. There were a few more peppers than I would’ve preferred but I ate around them. Lea told her parents about the last day or so, with more enthusiasm and detail than most teenagers should dare attempt.

She inflated the kindness of my parents and pointed out that we did our homework together. No mention of late night bed-sharing. Brief mention of making breakfast. Even briefer mention of the PE boys.

Lea’s mom raised her thin eyebrows and her dad just about blanched with his lip straight and low. Quickly, Lea fanned her hands and blurted out something in stammered Spanish. Despite the language barrier, I understood she wanted her parents to forget she’d ever mentioned it. Mr. Betancourt laid a hand on his forehead but slowly went back to eating.

Moving along quickly, Lea focused on her wonderful first period class. She intimated the same she’d expressed to me about feeling like a new student, unknown to everyone. Her mother reached across the table to touch her hands and say, “You’ll be okay.”

Pulling back a sniffle without tears, Lea continued through the difficult period and her fight with Natalie. It was here Lea made it clear, “I’m going to break up with Natalie. I hope we can still be friends but that’s up to her. What she said and did and how she threatened Kenzie…was inexcusable.”

Her parents looked at me. I focused on my food.

Both supported Lea, which was more than I could’ve hoped for from my parents. The rest of the day breezed past in Lea’s words but they soon detected a pattern, which her mom pointed out, “You stayed around Kenzie a lot. Is that for the best if we don’t know what’s happening to her?”

Setting her fork down, Lea answered, “It’s my choice. She saved my life and… everything feels better when she’s around.”

While her parents looked at each other, they didn’t pry. They just listened as Lea grumbled about being a psych study and delighted in being someone’s work of art.

As a final note, she reiterated her chosen name, “I’ve been using Lea in classes. L-E-A. I know my name is still intrinsically ‘Wesley’ but, when I stood there after the pain finally eased, I felt in my heart and my soul that my name is Lea. It can remain legally the same but that’s the name which means…me now.”

They each tried it out carefully in casual conversation. Her father had more trouble with it than his wife. He favored “Lee”, as though simply chopping off the ‘Wes’ part.

I was just glad whenever I wasn’t the focus of conversation. Dinner ended with the promise of buying new clothes over the weekend and the possibility of redecorating ‘Lea’s bedroom. Mr. Betancourt didn’t have much to offer about either prospect.

However, I did notice he gave his “daughter” a few hugs after dinner. Careful hugs but with increasing warmth.

Eventually, it was time to work on our “class project”.

I followed Lea down the narrow side hallway. Her bedroom was at the end on the left. I’d never actually seen it before.

I hadn’t seen many boys’ bedrooms. I nearly got to see Cody’s bedroom once but he vetoed idea that with vague and horrifying explanation which culminated in underwear (specifically a G-string) stapled to the door for some reason.    

Wes’s bedroom (Not Lea’s, not yet) was better organized than mine. Instead of the corner clothes pile and the musty, semi-useless dressers, Lea had several black, fancy dressers she was stuffing with extra shirts and a full, white hamper.

Along the nearest wall were three massive closet doors that looked like mirrors. The doors slid over and behind one another on different tracks. Peering into them, I noticed darkened rings around my eyes. I got them even if I felt tired or not. Although I definitely felt tired right then.

Lea came up from behind and slipped around to look in the same mirror. She noted, “All this week, I abhorred these mirrors. No matter where I went in my room, inescapably, there was this face. Even downcast, I still caught some part of my altered visage.”

She reached forward and touched a hand to the glass. “I can’t say it feels perfectly natural yet. I’m still astounded by my reflection and marvel at it but the pain and animosity are gone.”

I looked at Lea’s reflection staring out.

Somewhere out there, in countless worlds upon worlds, even if they were only in the imagination, was a Lea named Lea by birth. By fate and chance she had also come to this room and this moment, with another Kenzie. Kenzie of no consequence and her friend Lea. I could imagine the other side of the mirror was the tangible but impassible bridge between the two worlds. “A bridge of space without distance”, that’s what Cass had said, right?

As I turned, for a fleeting glimpse, I thought that my reflection had lingered before the mirror an instant too long. That she had watched me after I had stopped watching her. Flicking my eyes back revealed no oddity in my reflection. Only a wariness of my mind for this long and challenging week.

Lea kept looking in the mirror after I’d turned away to explore the rest of her room. Beyond the hamper and dresser, she had a nice, queen-sized bed with gray and blue covers like her recent flannel. A wall lamp and a desk lamp kept the shadows at bay. Her desk was filled with several large piles of notebooks, loose paper, and random CDs.

Beyond that, just a narrow bookshelf for anything left over and a respectable amount of books. Covering a yawn, I crept over to the bed and found an edge to sit on. Lea joined me a minute later and flopped down. She reached a hand over and I clasped it in mine as I laid back on the bed as well.

Eventually, we scooted to the pillows and settled there. Lea drew her legs up and asked, “What are you pondering?”

I wasn’t pondering anything in particular. Just trying not to linger on the stuff that didn’t make sense. Wondering what we could do in place of our made-up project. However, I off-handedly remarked, “Just thinking about how I should get used to this.”

With a little cough-laugh, Lea inquired, “How so?”

Really, I should’ve offered some sweet notion of Lea’s cuddles becoming an ever-more common thing. The thought was there but my brain went somewhere else.

“From now on, I’ll only be around girls for any length of time. One way or another.”

It was the stark, genuine notion in my head. Resting beside my dad as a little girl, lifted up on his shoulders, leaning against him. All for the past. The fleeting cuddles of Wes that warmly enveloped me when we were dating. Just merely sharing the same space as a boy. Never the same.

Lea sat up a little and nervously asked, “Am I…an afterthought?”

I blinked and sat up a little too, as though roused from a lingering stupor. “Afterthought? No. You’re Lea.”

Staring downward, Lea clutched her hands and mulled, “But…the way you put it. Get used to this. Is it a burden? I mean…I know I wanted to be around you all day. And I was upset before Chilton and everything. And I came to your next class. And then lunch. Are you just…putting up with me?”

I immediately shook my head and assured her, “No. Not at all. And it's not a burden. It’s just a huge responsibility. I…tried to think of a word for it earlier. Like a daughter but different or something.”

Lea’s ease wavered. Her eyes didn’t meet mine.

No. I already fucked up our relationship once with that stupid writing assignment. I couldn’t do it again. I leaned closer to her and pressed, “You are beautiful. You are amazing. And…we each have our own reality checks about how our lives will be now and I’m still figuring that out. I’m sorry if that sounds distant but I’m just scared and it’s on my mind…”

Her frown faded slightly and she leaned back towards me. “I’m scared too. Daunted and reeling and not sure what my parents really think. Not sure when Nats is going to come screaming through the front door to tell me everything that feels legitimate now is a lie. And…just your words…”

She sniffled a little to herself and elaborated, “It hurt. I know you didn’t mean them to hurt but they did. When I was changing my clothes, I thought about how Nats was the world to me and now I’ll never embrace her the same way ever again. I’ll never feel her the same way. I mean…I still love her. But we confided to one another ideas of where we’d go over summer and if there would be more. It’s all gone now…same as you and I were gone. Who knows what will be gone next?...”

Whatever restraint Lea had over her tears vanished as her curled her lip up and let a hot rain fall over her cheeks. She sobbed and whimpered with her hands muffling her cries. I felt like crap. My words to trigger all this. My untempered thoughts at the source. Why do I shit all over everything?

With whatever comfort I could offer, I softly apologized. I went to get Lea some tissues as she tried to stem the tide. Eventually, she had to step outside to use the bathroom. I took that time to sit there and stew. I just chose the prize moments to genuinely speak my mind. Well, if I didn’t speak my mind then who would?

I rubbed my eyes under my glasses and tried not to focus on the eerie doppelganger tracing my every motion across the way.

Though with puffy eyes, Lea returned with the glimmer of a smile as she announced, “We…can’t do anything about tomorrow. Or next week. Or a year from now. Or any epoch earlier. Just what happens now. You said what you felt because…I asked you. I just can’t stop…being melancholic about it all. I don’t want to be a footnote in your life. I don’t want to be some prosaic template for your interactions with other people.”

She nuzzled up to me on the side and shut her eyes. “I’m me. I’m no one else. Even if I change. Boy or girl. Wes or Lea. Please…”

I wasn’t sure what to say, lest I make things worse again. I reiterated carefully, “You’re not a footnote. It’ll be alright.”

Still, she wept. From there, she fluttered about a bit, finding respites of sudden happiness thinking about the boys from the pick-up game.

“Do you think any of them liked me? Probably too soon to tell. I could try getting closer on Monday. If they’re still there. But would it be fortuitous to actually take that chance and put myself...out there. Am I really fully...heterosexual...with respect to my physical sex?...”

During this time, I let her talk. Too many words from me would just put me in the path of her feelings. I simply asked, “What do you feel you are?”

She nearly smacked her head against the wall as she leaned back and reflected. “Quixotic, apprehensive, and utterly ambivalent. In the textbook way.”

I reminded her, “You’re a person who has been remade in just over three days and utterly so in just over the last day.”

With a nod, she concurred, “Succinctly established.”

“Take this weekend and explore yourself. And then we’ll tackle what Monday brings.”

She accepted this without needing to nod. Quietly, she repeated little things I’d told her throughout the day but especially returned to, “It’ll be alright. I will be alright…”

While she still fluttered a bit, it seemed the worst was over. She showed me her books. I flipped through her highlighted, dog-eared, worn dictionary. We did do some homework here and there and even made some notes for The Great Gatsby with regards to the American Dream.

And then Lea asked me, “How do girls…get themselves…umm…how do we…have private…rub the…take care of…tickle…when you feel…well…ummm. Girl…stuuufff…” Each fragment turned Lea a different shade of red as her voice sunk deeper and deeper into herself.

I figured out what she meant but I had to tell her, “Personally, I have no idea.”

You may now laugh but sixteen-year-old me only had a passing notion of masturbation. I got the gist. I’d been aroused plenty of times with varying pleasant results. My thought was just rubbing your legs together without any real deeper, hands-in technique. And this was increasingly a topic which I felt red about discussing with a recent former boy while sharing the same bed.  

We made a bee-line to favorite books. Lea’s were mostly westerns and adventures, although she wondered if they would hold the same appeal for her now. Between bringing up a few of my reading class favorites, I noticed she was fussing.

When I asked her what it was, she mentioned, “I have odiferous gas…”

All those peppers for dinner. I had a little gas too.

“I don’t mind. Just go ahead.”

Lea shifted and let out a quick “ffft”. I was a little jealous that it smelled rather earthy when it wafted about, whereas mine smelled like something to gag Death herself with a mangled, ripe corpse. We each commented on the other’s farts till we had to break down in giggles.

Lea laughed so much she was afraid she would have another restroom close call. Once we settled down and broke out the air freshener, Lea pressed against me and said, “Thank you. Thank you so much. From the warmth of your salvation in my darkness. To a glow sitting beside me. To walking with me through the anxiety of a new life. To every chaotic question I answer then re-question then forget and remember and ponder again. To every time I feel like I don’t know what to do and feel reminded that…somehow…despite everything…I’ll find my way to being alright. For all that and so much more. Thank you…”

I held her and sighed contentedly. “My joy.”

We were both fading fast and nine was on its way. While calls later would be out of the question, Lea proposed, “How about we make a deal that…at a given time we will absolutely be in bed. That way…we can think of the other and still kinda be sharing the same experience even though miles apart?”

I was fine with that, even though it sounded a little weird.

After a call to my dad, we took out a small pack of Uno cards and played a quick game, which had barely begun by the time the doorbell rung.

I left Lea with the words, “See you soon” before heading off.

Dad asked the usual on the way back. He made sure I’d eaten. He made sure I did my work. And he asked about Lea’s parents. The first two were easy to automatically answer but, for the last, I mentioned their faith and feeling that God was watching over us. Dad affirmed this but cautioned me to make good decisions even then. I quietly agreed.

Before we pulled into the driveway, he warned me that mom had gone to bed early due to a headache but he’d told her I was away working on a project. He was able to leave out key details because she was not in any of her moods. However, I was on my own if she roared back to full strength. Comforting.

Despite all the time I’d spent around Lea’s bed, I was still eager for the embrace of my own, with its familiar lumps and leans and sags. I scrunched my eyes for a moment, took a deep yawn, and heard a faint shuffling across the carpet to my doorway.

Casually, I looked over, expecting my dad to offer one of his many addendums to a long-completed conversation. Instead, I saw my reflection standing on her own without the support of glass.

“Hello, Kenzie.”

I should’ve been shocked, bolting out of bed, and yelling for answers while dragging my other self over to my dad. But I lay there with what felt like a dumb expression as I squinted at the doorway.

“Hello?” I wasn’t completely sure if she’d said those words or I had.

“Lucid. Excellent. That’s something.” She entered and sat on the other side of the bed. I felt it shift.

She was me. But her hair was different. Shorter. Off her shoulders and looking a little like Wade Welles from Sliders. Except for the crisp, green streaks. It took me a long moment catch the color difference.

Nice hair. I wasn’t certain I’d said it aloud. Still, she responded as if I had.

“Thank you. Still not sure about it, even after all these years.”

Years. Years…it occurred to me she looked…mature. Still young but not a teenager. No skin blemishes or freckles.

Why?

“Well, it’s not easy being green. But that’s not what you meant.”

She settled onto the mattress a little more. Shifted again. She sighed wearily.

“Just wanted to tell you it’s going to be alright, despite everything. You’re not alone, I promise. But that’s also the problem. Sorry. I wish I could offer more…”

As I lay there, I felt her hands massaging my back.

It didn’t seem out of sorts to be receiving a back massage from my doppelganger. I didn’t raise any questions. I just enjoyed as she got into the deep tissue.

A quiet moment passed. My attention waned. When I looked over to the right, there was no one there. But I still felt a phantom hand vigorously but carefully rubbing the tired spots in my shoulder.

I should’ve bolted up with fear and confusion but it was a free backrub. So I let it go on till the feeling started to wane. As soon as I sat up, the sensation immediately went away. My back did feel better though.

Looking around, I noticed the door was open the same way it had been when I looked over to see my other self. But the encounter was starting to fade from my memory. What had she said at the beginning? Some joke?

I tried to track back her first words to anything I might’ve said. Green. She had shorter, green-streaked hair and she’d made a joke about it. Looked maybe a little older. Oh, but what else had she said?

Comforting words. And then she gave me that backrub. The words may have forever slipped away but the sensation of her hand on my back, tracing the tired and tight places, was vividly etched into me.

So, how can I recite her words now?

Well, it doesn’t matter. Not yet. What matters was, as I sat there, I began to question if any of the last few minutes had even happened.

I picked apart incongruities. I felt like she’d been able to easily sit on the other side of bed even though there was too much junk for her to do so. Also, it seemed improbable that she could massage my back with a single hand like that. And the clock.

Actually, I hadn’t checked the clock. So that didn’t help at all. But, above all else, I knew….I knew….as clearly and confidently as I was sitting there in my own bedroom that I’d felt something rubbing my back.

Could it have been the world’s strangest muscle spasm which just happened to feel like someone was rubbing it? Theoretically.

Did a ghost happen by and take pity on me? That possibility sounded even less comforting.

Something had happened though. But it just joined the pile of shape-shifting murals, gender-shifting powers, strange words, and menacing shadows.

No need to stress about it. I’ll take a shower, let the stream flow over me for far too long, and rest. Let this long, crazy week slide off. And, while it wasn’t a long weekend, I had two full days of relaxation to indulge in.

…

It was Monday morning with the sun screaming light though the window. Not streaming light. Screaming light.

Where’d the weekend go? I dunno. It existed but for just a moment of life. I remembered going to sleep like Lea and I planned. I remembered hoping Lea might randomly stop by or call. Nope.

My parents and I did go out to eat at some Mexican restaurant where they had baked trout. Not as good as what Mrs. Betancourt made. Less peppers though.

Mom eventually roused early Saturday and quizzed me on my Friday. Yes, I was careful. Yes, I didn’t try to make friends with anyone or anything that might return my love. Yes, I did all my work and I was going to do even more. Yes, there hadn’t been any problems. Yes, I thanked the people I stayed with. Yes, I would never ever think of going to another house ever again. Yes, yes, yes…

“Get here NOW!”

Oh…that’s what had woken me. I must’ve heard the faint, serenely-shrieking scream of my father wafting amongst the morning birds, which would soon all fuck off, leaving behind the annual winter infestation of lost seagulls.

“NOW! KENZIE! RIGHT NOW!”

Here, girl! You bad girl! You made a mess on the carpet! Down dog, down! I was in the sassiest stage of waking up. I could potentially pretend/hope I was still dreaming until one of them got to banging on my door like they wanted to bring all the walls down.

But, with calm and care, I got up. I opened my door and asked, “What is it?”

“Are you alive?! I don’t think you’re even here!?...” Dad rambled on a bit as I checked the clock. Twenty minutes before my wake-up time for breakfast. Annoyingly early.

I reiterated the obvious question but mom sternly answered, “You’re on the news…”

Stepping into the edge of the living room, I looked over at the TV and sighed. It was blurry because I had my glasses off but I could hear it well enough.

At the moment, there was a bit from Jay Leno laughing over and over at his own joke about the Impeachment and then they went to the traffic news. I saw nothing worth waking me up about.

I went to go get my glasses but still nothing worthwhile appeared on the screen. Something something, Microsoft being bad.

I was about to turn away when I heard…

“There have been conflicting reports into the newsroom about a dangerous incident involving one or more students which took place at Brookville High School last week. School administrators and staff have denied all reports and say that the campus is safe, not in lockdown, and students should observe a normal Monday schedule. That’s all we have right now but we’ll be checking into this story further…Meanwhile, how prepared is your area for an attack by nuclear weapons? The answer may be more terrifying than you think…”

Mom and dad both glared at me.

Well, there’s that jolt to the status quo...