Page 18 of Precise Justice

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s true.”

“He would have wanted it that way,” David said. David leaned forward and whispered to Connie, “An extra tab of Viagra having been administered.”

“Atta boy, Mickey,” Connie said.

She looked at Marc who was still holding his breath and said, “I knew The Mick well. In fact, we had a bit of fling many years ago.”

Connie snapped her fingers then said, “I just realized something. You’ll be looking for office space. I own a building now in Uptown in Minneapolis. I have space available and as a friend of Mickey’s I’ll let you have it cheap.

“I’m serious. Here,” she said digging in her purse. She came out with a business card holder, handed one to Marc while saying, “Give me a call. Stop by and have a look. It’s a nice set up.”

“You’re a lawyer,” Marc said.

“Yeah, we have an office sharing suite ten minutes from downtown. I can tell you right now we’ll have enough referral work to keep you busy. Give me a call next week. Come on over and take a look.”

“I will,” Marc said. “First thing Monday.”

Thus began a deep friendship. Almost a mother and son relationship that would flourish and prosper for many years.

EIGHT

Dear Diary: October 16th

Happy birthday to me! Today is my fourteenth birthday. When I woke up this morning and remembered it, my heart sank to my stomach. When I was in the bathroom, I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger looking back. It made me start crying.

It has been about 2 years since this started. Everyone involved told me it was the best thing for me and that I was born in the wrong body. They all say it. They are experts at this, so they must know what they are doing. Then why don’t I agree with them? Why don’t I feel like being born a boy was the wrong thing. I admit I am not the most religious person; we get it in school, but couldGod make a mistake like that?

I still like school. The kids at Wheaton are much better than those at Sanger. As a group they are a lot smarter than the ones at Sanger. Or, maybe they just take it more seriously.

I have even made some friends. Other girls, (did I just refer to myself as being a girl?) and another trans boy. Funny, the girls in trans to become boys don’t like us at all.

When am I going to want to become a girl? Am I ever?

Robbie finished his diary entry. He read it over and when he finished, an uncontrollable sob came over him. He took a deep breath hoping it would not happen again. He held his breath for several seconds then relaxed. Robbie closed, locked and hid the diary between his mattress and box spring. It was a school night and it was time for bed.

In his private bathroom, he washed his face, brushed his teeth and hair then looked in the mirror. For no apparent reason, Robbie started to flood his cheeks with tears. Not an unusual occurrence.

* * *

Robbie’s study hall period came at the end of the day. It started with the usual bell ringing at 3:00P.M.Robbie and his trans friend Stephanie, formerly Steve, shared a table.

Stephanie had been a source of knowledge, comfort and at times, inspiration. He began his trans at the age of ten. Like Robbie, he had a helicopter mother. In Stephanie’s case there was no father in the home at all.

Two of Robbie’s other good friends, Kristin and Angelina, were at the table next to theirs. Both of them were born girls and staying that way. But they were very open-minded. Most of the students were. Not all of them.

Stephanie and Robbie arrived for study hall in the first floor library a few minutes early. Robbie took his normal seat facing the front, where the library was located. Stephanie was to Robbie’s left across from him. He was facing the hallway door.

“Dyke patrol at twelve o’clock,” Stephanie whispered to warn Robbie.

What he referred to were two girls transitioning to boys entering the study hall. Robbie, as did everyone, knew who Stephanie was referring to. They were two girls who were almost ready for the surgery. And they did not hide their contempt for trans boys wanting to become girls. Why would anyone want to be a girl and not a boy?

Their names were Carla and Emily. Their trans names were Alex for Carla and Kevin for Emily. Even the teachers knew better than to make the mistake of calling them by their female names. These two were mean and they wanted everyone to know it.

Robbie had opened a textbook and was holding it up to read. As the two trans boys walked past, Alex/Carla, the meaner of the two, slapped the book out of Robbie’s hands. The book went flying out of Robbie’s hands and landed on the floor next to Stephanie. Seeing her mate slap the book away, Kevin/Emily laughed much more than the prank was worth.

Robbie looked up from his chair at the two troublemakers but said nothing.

Alex looked at Robbie and said, “Got something you want to say, Miss Pretty Pansy?”