So what would you do if you were in a public place and
discovered that a diabolical device had changed your gender?
Elan Owen
Chapter 1: The Five Minute Rule
By Jesse Rabbit Edited by Erin Halfelven of bigcloset.ateros.com
So there I was,
in the magazine stacks in the library of the exclusive private school my
parents had sentenced me to, minding my own business, trying to hide until 3:30
pm or so, giving myself twenty minutes for everyone to leave and for Karen to
give up and head home. You'd think that a library would be a good place to hide
and get a little quite time alone to think wouldn't you? Well then you'd be
wrong.
It was quite…
for about ten minutes, and I relaxed, caught my breath, and let my heart beat
slow back to a semblance of a regular rhythm. Big mistake, calming down, but
too much adrenaline isn't good for the body… then again, neither is having a
gender-shifting related heart attack. So for the next ten minutes I gathered
myself back together enough to try and figure out what I was going to do in a
calm and logical fashion… or at least that was the plan.
The Watch,
notice that I've given the diabolical thing proper noun status, had ideas - or
at least programming - to the contrary. As soon as I'd become calm enough to
think the thing began beeping softly and I had to quickly cover it with my hand
to keep the noise from carrying too far and acting like a Librarian homing
beacon. The hand didn't help at all, but the beeping stopped a couple of
seconds later on its own, so I removed my hand and looked down at the watch.
The time screen
had cleared again and in the place of the time this message scrolled by
"Rotate the watch face 180 degrees clockwise." Confused I did so, I
mean, I was a girl for gods-sake, its not like The Watch could do much worse to
me, right? Turns out I was right and wrong on that count… but that’s for later.
So I turned the
watch face and the watch pops open to reveal what looks like the inside of one
of those old fashioned picture lockets, two round black panels and nothing
else… now that’s what it looked like at first, but - like - a second later the
panels began to glow blue and in the space between them a hologram of a head
began to take shape.
I had to cover
my mouth with my free hand to keep from gasping out loud… it was Grandpa
Horace's head, only glowing blue, tiny, and floating over my wrist. Its
probably a good thing that he was already dead ‘cause at that moment I would
have strangled him to death all the while screaming "What have you done to
me you madman!!!!" Which, come to think of it, would almost certainly have
stopped him from telling me what he had done to me - and why - rather
permanently. So it’s a good thing he was already dead. On the other hand,
choking the life out of the old coot would probably have made me feel better,
at least until I went to jail for like a billion years. I wonder if I would go
to a girl's prison… that might be fun… especially once I got older… Was I a
lesbian now?
All these
thoughts raced through my mind as I watched, stunned, as The Watch created an
image of my grandfather. I was even more stunned when the head began to speak.
Then I nearly panicked as I realized how loud the head was speaking, but the
head’s first words kept me from trying something drastic, either that or simply
passing out from panic in a dead faint. The head said "Don't worry, no one
can hear this but you"
See? That’s when
I knew that I was going mad… well more mad than genetics had made me I guess.
The Watch's next words confirmed it, when it said, "No, you are not going
mad." See!? Denial! I felt hysteria welling up inside, and was just about
to break down into sobbing giggles when the watch gave me a single, hard,
painful jolt. I kept from screaming only ‘cause I bit my tongue, gah did that
hurt!
The Watch
continued "Please do not panic, there is no cause for alarm Elan."
No Cause? No
Cause! NO F*****G CAUSE? I'm a girl now you old loony!!!
As if I had
spoken to it instead of just thinking all that the head laughed softly "No
really, Elan. It’s a present, not a curse. The manual will explain everything
in greater detail, but just know this. The process is completely and easily
reversible, so think of it as an adventure. So, have fun, don't tell anyone,
especially your parents, not only will they get mad at me - I know I'm dead,
but still - if you tell them about this they will most likely take the watch
away, and after you read the manual you won't want that. Also, if you tell
them, then they might not take their presents from me, and then you'd never get
to find out what mischief I have in store for them, especially little Mike.
Shame her birthday is last on the list, huh? Fifth of October. So I'm going to
make you a deal. You put up with this for one year and you get the patent that
makes it possible. And trust me, it can do a lot more than just shift your
gender. So, What do you say? Yes or No?"
And at that the
head disappeared and a button appeared on each holo-panel: one labeled Yes and
the other No. Know what? I jabbed my thumb at the No button as fast as I could.
Not only that, I hit it again and again and again and again. I think I was
growling.
The head
reappeared, half not there ‘cause my thumb was blocking part of the projection.
Grandpa laughed and gave me that annoying smirk of his and said "Good!
Knew I could count on you Elan! You always were a square egg." Grandpa
always called people that, I don't know why or what in the name of bugs bunny
it means. "Have fun, and don't tell anyone."
I know I growled
then, and if I could have removed the damn thing I would have flung it across
the room and then jumped up and down on it, screaming in rage. I cried out
"I SAID NO DAMNIT!" and then realized what I had done and covered my
mouth with both hands and whimpered. I listened real hard and heard feet, small
librarian feet and larger student feet rushing over towards where I was.
SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT!!!!!!!
I looked round
wildly for a way to escape and - as the footsteps grew louder and voices
started calling out asking if everything was okay - I realized that it was
hopeless. I turned, tossed my bag a few aisles down the stacks, and began
calling "Is everything okay?" I figured that if it looked like I was
trying to help they wouldn't realize that I was the one who cried out. Two
seconds later Miss Pertry and three 6th graders rounded the corner
and spotted me looking round in confusion. "Are you okay?" we both
asked at the same time (well I was slightly slower having started just as I saw
her mouth open to ask me). She looked at me with those owl-like librarian eyes
and humphed "You didn't see what happened back here, did you, young
lady?"
I shook my head
and said in as polite and lady-like a tone as I could "No Miss Pertry. I
was over in the Seventeen's…" I was guessing that’s where my bag had
landed, "looking for the President Ciccone interview from last year. Its
for my poly-civ class." She nodded, still looking around to see if she
could figure out what had happened, so I continued, "Then I heard this
voice cry out something and I got up and looked but there was no one here.
Maybe it was a prank?" She looked at me sharply for a second when I said
that, but I guess she figured that a prankster would have been smarter than to
bring up the suggestion, ‘cause her face softened and she nodded.
As she turned
away I mentally heaved a sigh of relief, figuring that I'd gotten away with it,
but my relief was short lived, ‘cause after she sent the 6th graders
away she turned back to me with a frown. I figured I was in for it… and I was
right.
"Did
someone try and touch you dear?" She asked in a soft concerned, parental
kind of voice, "It’s okay to tell me." She smiled softly, to show me
that it was okay, but it wasn't ‘cause I had no clue at all what she was
talking about, none at all. My confusion must have registered on my face but
she clearly misinterpreted it as confusion about how she knew it was me who had
cried out and not confusion after what in the name of Elvis she was talking
about, ‘cause she shook her head and smiled softly "Dear, there's no one
else back here, and you have a very pretty voice. It’s very easy to recognize.
You should try out for choir." I had to pinch myself to keep from telling
her that I already was in choir ‘cause I know she'd know I was lying, even
though I wasn't ‘cause I was in choir, but not in this body and I got really
confused then and had to sit down, which I did.
This turned out
to be exactly the wrong thing to do, because it seemed to convince her that
something really had happened. She came over and knelt beside me on the floor,
put her hand softly on my shoulder and said, in a soft voice that held nothing
but compassion, "It’s okay dear, you can tell me anything you like, or
not. It's your choice and I'm not going to force you. And if you want to tell
me something I'll try and keep it confidential unless I think I have to tell
for your own safety, alright?" I nodded, trying to keep from crying,
touched by her concern and her honesty. I finally figured out that she thought
someone had tried to touch me… you know… sexually, and nearly giggled. Well,
that is, to say that what came out was nearly a giggle, but halfway through it
turned into sobbing. I just collapsed against her and cried and cried and
cried, for I don't know how long, but I think at some point one of the 6th
grade girls came back to ask her something and I think Miss Pertry told her to
use the comp really softly and the girl went away, but I'm not really sure. She
just held me and patted my back and made soft soothing noises until I finally
stopped.
She helped me
sit back up and gave me a dry wipe to clean up with. I pulled it from its slip
case, wiped my eyes, blew my nose - rather loudly - giggled sheepishly, slipped
it back into its case and, pressing the Cleanse button, handed it back to her.
She brushed a lock
of my newly elongated hair out of my eyes and asked, "All better
now?"
I shook my head
and she nodded as if she understood. "Do you want to talk about it?"
she asked, her tone making it clear that it was okay if I said no. I shook my
head again and she sighed but nodded. "My door is always open to students
if you want to talk. I know how you students dislike talking to teachers or
parents, or lord forbid the school counselor, but if you need to talk, about
anything…" I nodded and gave her an unsteady smile
"I… thanks
Miss Pertry… but it’s just…" I trailed off, unsure of what to say or…
She helped me to
my feet and smiled down at me. "Second lunch ended fifteen minutes ago,
dear. Let me give you a pass so that you don't get into trouble. You might want
to go to the bathroom and freshen up so I'll give you five extra minutes,
okay?"
I nodded and
followed her up to the checkout desk. She looked at me and smiled "I think
you forgot something dear."
I must have
looked so confused because she laughed. Miss Pertry has a really nice laugh
(and a nice voice - which is good ‘cause she's one of the three choir coaches.
We have one for the boys, one for the girls and the choir teacher who works
with us as a group. She’s the Girls’ coach.) Anyway, she pointed at the stacks
and said, not quite able to remove the laugh from her voice, "You forgot
your bag, and your magazine dear." I blushed; I know I did ‘cause my face
felt like it was about a trillion degrees Kelvin. I turned and ran back to the
stacks, grabbed my bag and quickly flipped through the issues of Seventeen
until I found the one with the President's face on the cover. My parents told
me that she used to be a singer before she went into politics, but I think they
must be joking.
So I went back
to the desk and gave Miss Pertry the magazine. Then panic hit me again when she
asked for my library card, ‘cause I couldn't give it to her, now could I? She
laughed and smiled when she saw my face go all red again. "Don't have
one?" I shook my head, although I've had a NoCal (the Diet State) library
card since I was like three. She nodded and asked, "Did you bring your
Identi-Card?" again I shook my head and she gave me a grin. "Too much
to remember huh?" and I nodded ‘cause I'm always forgetting it. Dad
threatened to have it grafted onto my arm if I lost the thing again, which I
have like seven times. In fact, I once left it at home when the family was
going on vacation to Tokyo, so the Aerospace port security personnel wouldn't
let me on the spaceplane, so my dad had to drive me home to get it while Mom
and the rest went on ahead. They were so mad.
Miss Pertry just
smiled at me and asked, "What's your name dear?"
I blanked for a
moment and she smiled, "So I can issue you a card, silly."
I laughed and
after a second's consideration told her "Elayne. Elayne Grace."
She nodded,
typed it into the comp, scanned the mag's bar code, printed out a note and
signed it. She handed me the pile, with my new card sitting on top. "We
can fill out the rest of the information for your account tomorrow. Don't
forget your Indenti-Card, Okay Elayne?"
I nodded. I
mean, what else could I do. I took my stuff and headed for the door. I was
almost through it when Miss Pertry called "Elayne? Dear?"
I turned and
looked back "Yes Miss?"
"Remember, No
means No. If someone doesn't stop when you want them to stop, no matter what
you should run and find someone in charge and tell them what happened. No one
will think you are a snitch. Remember okay? No one has the right to touch you
if you don't want them too, okay?"
I nodded, again.
I mean, what else could I do. And I left the library, took the first left and
headed out into the arboretum. I needed to think again, and it wasn't getting
any easier. Just to see, I looked down at the note and laughed. It said
"Please Excuse Elayne for being tardy to class, she was helping me with
some sorting in the Library. Miss Pertry." It was funny, it really was. I
was excused from class, but I wasn't ‘cause I wasn't Elayne, but I was. I
ruthlessly squashed that train of thought ‘cause it was likely to make me
hysterical again if I didn't. I sat down at one of the tables and looked at The
Watch. "Damn you." I whispered. I didn't think it would help but I
began to press the buttons one by one, hoping one would change me back and then
all this madness would be over. The mode button yielded a chrono, a ten phase
alarm, a timer, and a data-link, but no help. The menu button yielded
programming options, voice recorder, games, translator, GPS, and memo system,
but no help. The telecomm button yielded net, telecomm, and instant messenger,
but no help. The light button was no help. The set button was no help. The
reset button was no help. The red button beeped when I pressed it and the word
PANIC came up on the screen. Then something helpful happened.
The watch
instructed me to open it back up and grandpa's head reappeared. "I see you
found the Panic Button, Elan. Very good. I figured you would. This button has
two uses. If you push it three times in rapid succession it will call both
Emergency services and your parents. Having done so it will transmit your
location and lock into Panic Mode. You can read more about Panic Mode in the
manual. But what is probably more important to you right now is its other
function. If you press and hold both the Panic button and the Mode button for
eleven seconds it will reverse your gender."
I almost crowed
with glee… but then The Watch of DOOM began to speak again. I know grandpa put
that pause there just to annoy me, I KNOW it. Bastard.
"That is, it
will reverse it for exactly five minutes, no more, no less. And it will only
work twice per day. Twice per day, for five minutes each time. And I was nice,
that twice per day resets at 11:01 a.m. and p.m. PST. So it’s really once per
day and once per night, but whatever. So enjoy, and remember, Elan, have
fun." With that his head disappeared again and I throttled thin air for a
few seconds.
Wonderful! For
five minutes every twelve hours I could be normal again. This sucked. What
sucked even worse was that someone - vice-principle Andrews - chose that moment
to come out into the arboretum and instantly her eyes locked onto mine and I
realized that I was going to be in deep, deep trouble. So I did the only thing
I could, given the circumstances… I turned and ran like all the hounds of hell
were chasing me.
To be continued in Part 4 - What's the Interest on Borrowed
Time?
Elan, his family, friends, and Story are copyright 2002
Jesse Rabbit, who may be reached at Terabiel@hotmail.com. Feel free to
distribute as long as you do it for free. Anyone who wants to adapt this into any
other medium (Like a movie, hint hint) should leave me a comment with an email
addy. :P Thanks and enjoy.