I’m with the Band
By
Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2007
Part 19
I just stood there for a second and stared at Tommy.
Uncertain, I said softly, “What?”
Tommy took a step forward and taking both my hands
said, “There’s been an accident.” An icy bolt shot down my spine as an utter
feeling of dread washed over me.
“A…an accident? What are you talking about? What
kind of accident?” I started to feel weak in the knees.
Before answering, Tommy led me a few paces over to a
chair. He indicated I should sit. My legs surrendered as I collapsed onto the
chair. Tommy swallowed audibly and then said, “Your mother said…yes I do know
she’s your mother…said there was some kind of accident involving the band’s
bus. I didn’t get any details, but she wants you to come up to Denver right
after your concert.”
Tears welled up as I cried, “You don’t know if anyone
is hurt? My God! Why did you let me finish the concert? Why wasn’t I told
right away? Oh my God! My God!” I started to blubber into incoherency. My stomach
started to tie up in knots and I felt like I was about to be sick.
“I got the news just a few minutes ago from a text
message from Mr. Winters. You’d just started your last song. I thought it
best to let you finish it.” He knelt down beside me. “Mr. Winters has his
private jet fueling up. I had my car brought around to the stage entrance.
I’ll drive you to the airport.” When I didn’t move he said, “You need to come
with me now!”
I just sat there and said, “Is Mom okay? Is John?
Anybody else?”
Tommy shook his head and said, “I didn’t talk to her.
Hal did. He said that she had a broken arm and at the time she called, there
was no information on anyone else. She wasn’t able to talk for very long, but
since she called, I’d say that was a good sign. Come on! We need to go!”
* * *
I was only dimly aware of my surroundings. I just sat
there in my seat on the private jet, staring but my eyes not focusing on
anything. Tommy sat beside me holding my hand. Somewhere he’d found a blanket
and had placed it over my shoulders.
Staring blankly ahead I asked, “I saw you talking on
the phone earlier. Any word yet? I can’t stand not knowing anything!”
Tommy put his arm around me in a comforting hug and
said, “No. No other news. We’ll be in Denver in another hour.”
Finally I turned my eyes towards Tommy. I said,
“Thanks. Thanks for coming with me, Tommy.” I held his hand tighter. “I’m
really glad you’re here. I couldn’t handle being alone. Not now.”
He smiled weakly and said, “Hey, I’m glad I could
help.”
I stared at the floor for a minute before turning back
to face him. I asked, “I’m curious though. Why would Hal send you? He could
have come himself, or sent Brooklyn. I’m not complaining, but why you?”
It was Tommy’s turn to look at the floor for a few
seconds. Looking a little sheepish and avoiding my eyes, he said, “Because I
was there at the concert…in the audience.”
I sat up a little straighter and said, “You came to
the charity concert?” I know I wasn’t the only person performing at the
concert, but I was still surprised. “I thought you never wanted to see me
again.”
Tommy hung his head a little more and said, “You say a
lot of stupid things when you’re hurt. It really pissed me off that you led me
to believe that you were a girl. It pissed me off even more when I learned
that it was Hal who arranged our first meeting at my birthday party and he
didn’t bother to tell me.”
Before I could say anything, he abruptly turned to
face me, his eyes boring straight through mine. “Michelle, you’re playing a
dangerous game. You know that, don’t you? What if I hadn’t shown up at Julia’s
party? You would have been found out. Julia would have made sure that
everyone knew you weren’t a girl. She would have destroyed you just so she could
destroy me. The truth that I’d been dating a boy would have ended my career,
your career and your brother’s career. She would have taken great delight in
that. If I’d known who you were from the start, I probably would have gone
along with publicity photos and I could have maintained deniability.”
“I’m sorry Tommy”, I said starting to tear up again.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. But don’t forget that I didn’t want
to date you at first. I certainly didn’t want you to kiss me.”
“You could have told me.”
“How? How could I have told you and expect it to
remain a secret? No one on Mr. Winters’ staff knows the truth. Not even
Brooklyn.”
Sounding irritated, Tommy said, “I’ve kept it secret.”
Frowning, I said, “Yeah. You have a vested interest
in keeping it secret now. If you feel this way, why did you come to my
concert?”
“You weren’t the only act, and…” said Tommy hastily.
He paused a moment and looked away. “You can’t help who you fall in love
with…”
* * *
Holding my hand and actually leading me, Tommy
accompanied me to the hospital. Thankfully, the police forced back the
reporters who were lining the walkway to the entrance. Not that there was a
teeming crowd of reporters, but there were enough. And they were annoying.
The only thing on my mind was the question of how Mom
and John were. And these jerks were shouting inane questions at me, some even
asking about my relationships with Tommy and Chad! How could they be so
insensitive?
As we entered the hospital, a staff member directed us
to the elevator and told us which floor to select to go to the ICU. Mom would
be waiting for us there. Apparently she’d already been released from the
hospital.
The elevator doors opened and we stepped out into a
hallway. Tommy pointed to a sign on the wall that indicated which direction we
needed to go to find the ICU. We hurried down the hallway; my stomach filling
with dread.
We quickly came to a large open area with seats
running along the walls. In one of the seats towards the back of the room sat
a woman staring at the floor with her head cradled in one hand. I knew it had
to be Mom.
I started to call out to Mom, but Tommy, aware that
there were potential fans within earshot covered for me by speaking first.
“Mrs. Gray! Mrs. Gray! Thank God you’re okay! I’ve brought Michelle.”
Wincing a little, Mom stood up. Her left arm hung in a
sling and there was a gash on her forehead that had been stitched up. Her face
and arms were bruised and scratched. She only managed one step towards us
before I was trying to hug her, but not hurt her injured arm. “Michelle!” she
cried. She put her good arm around me and began to cry. “Oh my Michelle! My
sweet, darling Michelle. You’re finally here!”
We stood there for a moment, crying in each other’s
arms. I finally managed to say through the sobbing, “What happened? Where’s
John? Everybody?”
Pulling away from me, Mom indicated I should sit.
Then she sat down herself. She looked so tired. And so old. “It was
horrible. Just horrible!” She took a deep breath and then continued. “John
is in ICU. He comes in and out of consciousness. He’s stable at the moment.”
Mom paused a moment, staring blankly ahead. Finally
she said, “We were on a two lane highway. We’d just started to get into the
mountains. A truck…a big truck, going the other way apparently had a blowout
and veered into us. We had nowhere to go. It was awful.” Mom started to cry
again. I held her hand and stroked her hair until she could compose herself
again.
Mom caught her breath again and said, “It’s hard to
remember exactly what happened after the truck hit us and forced us into the
rocks on our right side. After that, the bus rolled. I don’t know how many
times. It finally stopped upside down on top of the guard rail.”
She paused for a moment and as tears welled up again
in her eyes, she turned to look at me. “Honey, Fritz…Fritz is dead.”
While Fritz and I weren’t exactly buds, it seemed as
if I’d known him forever. “What? He…he’s dead?” I gasped. Mom nodded, her
face contorted with anguish.
“He’s gone.” Mom took another deep breath and
continued, “April, by some miracle only got minor injuries. She’s been
released from the hospital. I think she’s at the hotel. Sammy and Juan got
banged up pretty bad; Sammy has a broken leg and I think Juan has a fractured
pelvis.” Mom’s eyes glazed over again and she fell silent.
After a moment, I said, “I want to see John.”
Mom glanced at the clock on the wall and said, “The
ICU is open for visitors again. See that phone on the wall over there? Pick
it up and say who you’re here to see.”
* * *
My heart leapt into my throat as I saw John lying on
the bed in his small ICU room. The ICU was divided into twenty smaller rooms.
A few were empty. John was in the third room on the far wall. There were
tubes and hoses and his head was wrapped, but his face and eyes were still
exposed. Thank God he wasn’t on a respirator.
I stood outside his room for a few minutes just
looking at him and crying. I felt so small and helpless. Finally I built up
the nerve to enter the small room.
John was staring at the ceiling. He didn’t look like
John at all. John is always moving, so full of life and so confident. To see
him lying there, with tubes, hoses, and bandages, brought an even higher level
of sadness to my already strained emotions. I just stood there, tears running
down my cheeks as I cried silently.
He didn’t notice me right away. He didn’t seem able
to turn his head, but his eyes suddenly rolled in my direction. He tried to
smile and in a croaking whisper said, “Michelle!”
I stepped up to his bed and found his hand and held
it. I leaned over so I see his eyes better. God, he looked terrible! In a
hushed tone I said, “I got here as soon as I could! I’m so sorry! I should
have been with you guys.”
John furrowed his brow. In a raspy voice he said,
“Thank God you weren’t.” He studied me a moment before whispering, “Thank God
you weren’t. You’re such a beautiful girl; I’d hate to think of you being in a
place like this.”
In the middle of a cry, I barked a short laugh. I
must have been a mess, with no make-up on, my eyes and nose red from nearly
constant crying and my hair unkempt. “I hate seeing you in this place. I wish
there was something I could do. I feel so useless!” I gently touched his
cheek with a couple fingers. I suddenly said with a cry in my voice, “Oh
John!” I started crying uncontrollably.
As soothing as his raspy voice could be, John said,
“Don’t cry, Michelle. I’m okay. I’m going to be okay. Don’t worry.”
I wiped my eyes and tried to smile and said, “I know
you’ll be okay. You’ll be tormenting me again in no time.”
John tried to laugh, but only managed to frown and
moan in pain. We both fell silent for a minute or two. I watched the rhythmic
patterns on the medical monitors. John’s eyes took on a far-away look.
Without looking at me, John whispered in a
matter-of-fact tone, “Michelle. Fritz is dead. He’s gone.”
I gently squeezed John’s hand and said, “I know. Mom
told me. I’m very sorry.”
Eyes still glazed, John said, “I know Mom and Dad
didn’t like him much. I don’t think you really did either. But he was my best
friend. The band wouldn’t have happened without him. I guess the band’s
finished.”
I said, “John, don’t worry about that right now. Once
you’re better, there’ll be plenty of time to worry about the band.”
“No. The band’s toast. Without Fritz there’s no
band.”
“John, don’t give up on your dream. I know Fritz was
important, but you still have Sammy, Juan and …and April.” I said, trying to be
encouraging.
For the first time in many minutes, John looked over
at me. He said, “April came by after she was released from the hospital. She
said she’d had enough. She’s going back home. She quit.” His voice trailed
away, but he continued to look at me. After a moment he said, “I should never
have replaced you. You sing better than April. I was wrong Michelle. I
wanted you out for all the wrong reasons. But it worked out for the best,
didn’t it? I mean, you’re not in this hospital…or…or worse.”
I stared at nothing for a moment and then said, “But
maybe I should have been. I should have canceled my appearances so I could be
with you and Mom. We’re family. We should have stuck together. I’m going to cancel
the rest of my performances so I can stay and help take care of you.”
John tried to shake his head. “No, Michelle. You
were where you should have been, doing what you do best. And no, you’re not
going to quit performing. Not on my account. It’ll be months before I can
even think of doing anything with the band again. Sammy and Juan might feel the
same as April. If I get the band up and going again, you’ll have a spot on it
if you want it. But you’ve got to keep going. Promise me you won’t quit.” He
closed his eyes. “Promise…” he whispered.
“Okay, John. I promise.”
There was a long pause while I waited for John to say
something else. Finally I realized he was asleep. I stood there for several
minutes just looking at my brother.
* * *
It felt weird to be wearing boy’s clothes again. I had
my hair pulled loosely back in a ponytail in what I hoped was a boyish manner.
In this heat and humidity, the black suit was uncomfortable. I was standing
next to Mom as we listened to the preacher say nice things about Fritz. John
was very upset that he couldn't attend Fritz' funeral. He was out of ICU, but
still not well enough to leave the hospital. Dad had flown out to Denver and
stayed to keep him company during this time.
I looked over to where Sammy and Juan were sitting.
Both still looked a little banged up and of course their broken bones hadn't
healed yet. Their crutches were lying in the grass next to their chairs.
I looked around at the sea of faces. I didn't think
Fritz knew this many people. I recognized quite a few folks, but a lot of
people here didn't look familiar. Then it dawned on me that some of these
people were fans.
I kept scanning the faces surrounding me until I
finally found the one I'd been looking for. There stood Kayla, eyes both red
and smeared black from crying. She didn't notice me. She just stared at the
dark brown coffin.
I know I shouldn't have, but I just stared at her,
tracing my eyes over every nuance of her features. It had been months since I
had last seen her and the differences were very apparent; her breasts were more
pronounced, her body a little more curvy. Maybe it was my imagination, but she
was turning into quite a little hottie.
I felt a sudden panic when I realized her birthday was
this month. I made a mental note to get her something for her fifteenth
birthday. And then the big question. Do I get her something a boy would get a
girl, or what a girl would get another girl?
I was jarred back to the real world when Mom started
to walk away from me to get in the line that passes by the grieving family. I
felt a little ashamed that I'd missed a good portion of the funeral by thinking
about Kayla.
It seemed to take forever, but Mom and I were finally
up next to say our condolences to Fritz' family. What do I say? What can you
say?
Fritz' mother reached out to hug me. Quietly I just
said, "I'm so sorry about Fritz!"
With her hands grasping my shoulders, she held me out
at arms length and said, "Thank you, Michael. I haven't seen you in so
long. You've gotten taller. You're becoming a young man."
I just smiled at her. She couldn't know that I was
actually becoming a young woman. I started to walk away from her to shake
Fritz' dad's hand.
“Where's Michelle?” asked Fritz’ Mom. “I've never met
her. Fritz talked about her all the time in his emails and phone calls. I was
hoping to meet her.”
Looking at her, I said, "She couldn't make it.
It was all just too much for her."
She nodded and said, "I understand. It was good
to see you again, Michael. Tell John he's in our prayers."
I just nodded. Feeling very uncomfortable, I quickly
moved on.
I started looking for Mom As I walked away from Fritz'
family. From behind me a girlish voice squealed, "Michael? Hey!" I
turned around and saw Kayla's smiling face.
"Kayla! Hey girl!" I said excitedly as we
hugged. "I've really missed you!"
"You could call more often!" Kayla
admonished me, laughing. "I'm surprised to see ‘Michael’ here."
We started walking away from the grave site. Watching
our shadows glide across the grass I said, “Yeah, I thought it’d be easier to
explain Michelle not being here than Michael. And I didn’t want to face Fritz’
parents as Michelle.”
Kayla averted her eyes and said, “I’m really sorry
about what happened to your Mom and John and the others. I mean, it’s just
terrible.”
“Thanks.” I mumbled. I watched the ground move under
our feet for another minute. I looked up and saw Mom standing by our car. I
suddenly stopped. Kayla walked a few paces past me, but then turned around and
walked back to me. I said, “Would you do me a favor?”
Kayla squinted in the sunlight as she turned to face
me. She said, “Sure. Like what?”
I said, “You mind meeting me at the park this
afternoon…say around one o’clock? Meet me at those trees…you know, where the
two trees have grown together.” There were two different trees that had grown
together to look like one big tree.
"Sure. That's no problem."
"I'll see you then." I waved and then
rushed over to where Mom was waiting.
* * *
It was a couple of minutes past one o'clock as I
walked through the park toward the two trees. Kayla was already there. She
hadn't seen me yet and I didn't call out. I just watched her as she stood
there waiting.
Even just standing there, Kayla displayed the
undeniable grace of femininity. The short denim skirt she wore was only a
secondary indication that she was a girl. Her manner, grace and form were
unconscious and natural. Even after hormones and surgery, would I ever be able
to achieve this level of femininity without conscious effort?
Sure, without any overt visual clues that shout I'm
not a girl, most people tend to gloss over the lack of these other signals.
Most people don't want to believe that you're not who you say you are unless
you give them good reason.
"Oh, there you are!" Kayla said, turning
towards me at the sound of my approach. "You're still Michael!"
I smiled and said, "Yeah. I can't change back to
Michelle while I'm here. I'll probably change on the flight back."
"It's good to see Michael again. I know I always
told you that I thought Michelle was the real you. Still, I've missed
him."
“Well, that’s kinda why I wanted to talk with you
privately.” I said as I took both her hands as we stood facing each other.
Cocking her head in that very feminine, inquisitive
manner, she asked, “Oh?”
I stared into her eyes for several moments. God! She
was beautiful! I suddenly thought that I might be making a big mistake. No,
I’d thought this over a million times…
It was actually harder for me to form the words than I
thought. My heart felt heavy as I said, “Kayla, take a good look at Michael.
This is the last time you or anyone will ever see him again.”
Furrowing her brow, Kayla asked, “What exactly do you
mean by that?”
Swallowing hard and averting my eyes, I softly said,
“I’m going to become a girl. I’ll soon start on hormones. When ah…when I get
to be eighteen, I’ll get the surgery to complete what John started six years
ago."
"Oh my God!" Kayla exclaimed. "You're
going to get a sex change?"
"Is that such a surprise?" I asked.
"In a way." She bit her lip and looked away
for a second. "I mean, yes, I felt that being a girl seemed natural to
you and I had a lot of fun when you would come over and we'd be girlfriends.
But..." Her voice trailed away.
Feeling confused, I asked, "But what?"
Hesitating a moment, she finally said, "I just
thought that...well...that you'd eventually come back here as Michael. You
know, once you were done with singing and all."
"That was the original plan," I said.
"But things are different now. And I don't mean just because of the
accident. I've discovered that as a girl, I'm more comfortable with who I
am."
Kayla suddenly threw her arms around me. "Oh
Michael! I'm sorry! I didn't know this would happen."
I held her close to me and said, "What are you
talking about?"
Kayla pulled back from me and looked me square in the
eye. "I taught you how to be a girl. I never thought you'd stay one
forever!"
"You said you liked me better as a girl. That
you felt I was a girl." I protested.
"I know! I know." Kayla said as she looked
away. "And in a way, I meant it. But..." She started to turn her
back to me and I could tell she was about to cry.
I gently pulled her back around. She still wouldn't
look at me; tears welling up in her eyes. "Kayla, please. Tell me what's
wrong!"
"I feel bad. I taught you how to wear make-up,
how to wear the clothes, how to act and stuff. And I love you like a
girlfriend. But I thought it was all fun and games. I thought you just liked
dressing up and that's why you came over." She stopped talking and took a
few breaths.
"But now, this seems so final. After today,
Michael will be gone. I mean, God! Now I feel like I've been to two
funerals today!" She threw her arms around my neck again and laid her
head on my shoulder and began to cry softly.
I stroked her hair and said, "It's okay Kayla.
You're right. In a way, Michael will die today. But all he ever was will
continue in Michelle. And I'm grateful for you, Kayla. You had your whole
life to learn how to be a girl. I only had a couple of months, and I couldn't
have done it without you."
We stood there a few minutes in the shade of the two
trees, holding each other tight. Neither of us spoke. The only sound was the
gentle rustling of the leaves.
Kayla finally pulled away from me and gave me a
hesitant smile. I ran my hand through her hair and said, "Would you mind
doing me one more favor?"
She knitted her brow for a moment as she asked,
"Like what?"
I ran my fingers again through her long hair and said,
"Can I have one last minute as a boy, with the most beautiful girl he's
ever known?"
Kayla smiled slightly and with the smallest of nods,
leaned toward me, closing her eyes and parting her lips. My lips met hers as I
pulled her closer to me. Our tongues met as we stood there in a passionate
embrace.
I'm not sure how long we kissed, as it seemed all too
brief. We finally pulled away from each other, both of us finding it hard to
breathe. Kayla smiled broadly and looked into my eyes. She leaned in and gave
me another brief kiss and said, "Good-bye, Michael."
Before I could react, she turned and walked slowly
away.
"Good-bye, Kayla!" I said as she walked
away. And then in a whisper that I know she couldn’t hear, I said, "I
love you."
* * *
I still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Until recently, never could I have even imagined such a day.
What a difference six years can make! In that short
time, I’ve gone from a small town nobody, to one of the top female entertainers
in the country. Not only do I sing in the pop and country fields, but I still
model, do television ads, and have even dabbled in acting. John decided he
liked being a producer better. Sammy is an insurance salesman back home,
filling a void left by my dad when he finally decided to move out to Hollywood
with us. And Juan is my band’s drummer.
Two years ago on my eighteenth birthday, I made a
quiet trip to Thailand with my Mom to have the surgery that would permanently
close the door on my old life. Dad and John objected of course, but after a
while, they couldn’t deny how much happier I was being a girl. I never looked
back and my life before I started living as Michelle is just a rapidly fading
memory.
Six years ago, when I started this journey, I never
thought it would lead to me walking down the aisle, Dad holding my arm. I
heard the rustling of my satin gown as it glided over my legs. And before me
stood my darling groom. It was hard to believe that in a few minutes, I would
become Mrs. Tommy Kincaid.
Tommy was so handsome in his tux. He was now
twenty-two and was absolutely gorgeous. After winning an Oscar, he had finally
become a respected actor. He could have any woman in the world, but it was me
he was marrying.
Opposite Tommy stood my beautiful maid of honor,
Kayla. She was stunning in her light blue satin gown. After all these years,
she was still my best friend and confidant. She moved to Hollywood a few years
ago and has done a few commercials as well as acting in some bit parts in
television shows.
On the front row stood Mom and John. Mom was still my
manager. She wasn’t even trying not to cry. She was so happy that I was
getting married. It was all she talked about for weeks. And John has changed
so much. He’s not only happy to have a sister now, but he’s actually glad I’m
getting married to Tommy.
I was surprised to see Mr. Winters and Brooklyn
attending my wedding. Mr. Winters is still my agent and Brook is still my
fashion consultant. I really don’t know where I’d be without either one of
them.
It’s been a long strange journey from first being
mistaken for a girl at that old recording studio back home to becoming a wife,
for God’s sake! And even though I’ll admit that Tommy and I had sex as soon as
I was healed enough to try out the new plumbing, I was still tingling with
anticipation about our wedding night. All I can say is I’m so glad I’m a girl!
I was so scared and excited and nervous, that I really
don’t remember anything the preacher said until he said, “…and do you,
Michelle, take Tommy to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
I looked at Tommy and smiled a small, nervous smile
and blinked back a tear. I said, “I do.”
“You may kiss the bride.”
Smiling that smile that has endeared him to millions
of women around the world, Tommy lifted my veil and slowly bent his head down
and gave me a soft, sweet kiss.
The End
since 6/03/07