Copyright 1999, 2002, 2003 by Wanda Cunningham. There is no actual sex or transformation in this chapter, but I guess it should be rated R for context. So, nobody under 18 should read this, or whatever is the appropriate age in their community. This story deals with transgenderism in children and may be uncomfortable for some readers.

 

Kelly Girl

by Wanda Cunningham

Chapter 19

"Darth Phil"

The phone rang three times before Richard realized it was his. "Yeah?" he answered.

"Dude," Pete said, "I found your shoe?"

"You called me on my cellphone to tell me you found my shoe?" Richard said. He looked up at the policeman, "It's my stupid brother. Wait, I'm getting another call?" He clicked the button to hang up on Pete and take the next call. His scream of recognition got everyone's attention.

* * *

"Yeah, Richard, it's me," said Kelly. "Uh huh, yeah, I'm okay. He--he just wants to talk?" Kelly looked up at Phil who nodded benignly. "And then he says he'll let me go?" Phil nodded again and made an X over his heart. Kelly giggled. "You're where? Um, no, I don't think so? Bye." Kelly closed the connection before Phil could realize that the police were already involved. He didn't want to find out how Phil might react to that.

Phil smiled when Kelly got off the phone. "Thanks for not telling them where we are yet. Um, I just remembered something though. Can you hand me the phone?"

Kelly handed it over, a little apprehensively. Phil examined the phone and frowned. "How do you turn it off?"

Kelly took the phone back and held it close, squinting, then pointed out the right button before handing it to Phil again. Phil pushed it; the phone said, "bo-BEEP" and the display went dark. "That way they can't call back," said Phil, satisfied. He tucked the small phone in his shirt pocket.

And they can't trace the phone if it's off, thought Kelly. But he doesn't seem to know that. And maybe I'm wrong, maybe a phone that's turned off can be traced.

They looked at each other for a moment, saying nothing; each wondering what the other thought.

He still doesn't know I'm a boy, thought Kelly.

She still doesn't know who I am, thought Phil.

Around them the business of a busy Saturday afternoon in a Southern California mall parking lot went on. People parked and walked toward the doors of the South Coast Plaza; or cruised the aisles vulching for a better parking spot; or carried their purchases out to their cars or queued up their vehicles to get out of the lot. Near one edge, an orange-and-white Parking Security car cruised slowly. Kelly and Phil regarded each other silently for more than a minute.

"Did you ever see the Star Wars movies?" Phil asked finally, turning to look at a flight of gulls in the bright blue above the mall.

The apparent non-sequitur threw Kelly for a moment. "Uh, yeah? I liked the latest one better than the one before that? Sort of?"

"Me, too. It was exciting but a bit hard to follow. A lot less of that annoying Jar-Jar, huh?" He looked back at Kelly, smiling.

Kelly giggled. "Yeah..." What a strange thing to be talking about, considering the circumstances, he thought. He kicked his feet nervously, noticing again the cute shoes and socks that Andie had him wear...was it only this morning? I've been kidnapped by a crazy man and I'm wearing girl's clothes and I'm probably going to... He squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment to avoid thinking about possibilities. He needed to keep his mind on what was happening now.

Phil paused again for a long moment, then asked. "Did you ever see, 'The Empire Strikes Back?' The second one of the first set?"

Startled, Kelly answered without thinking about it. "Uh huh, the one with Yoda and the lake of slime?"

"Yeah," Phil said. "Lake of slime, yeah, that's the one."

What's this got to do with anything, wondered Kelly. He glanced away, looking toward the Security truck, considering if he might be able to signal in some way. Too far and Phil, that was his name, Phil is too close, he decided.

The pause this time seemed almost painful to the pale-haired man. "I've done some bad things in my life," Phil said. Another non-sequitur, though probably undeniably true; Kelly waited for him to continue.

"I hurt your mother very badly, though, I didn't mean to," Phil said. He seemed determined to go through with something he didn't really want to face.

Kelly gulped. Was Phil one of Amanda's drunken ex-husbands? He knew that more than one of them had beaten his mother and grandmother before he was born. Kelly leaned away from Phil, just a bit. Not enough for Phil to notice, perhaps. Could he open the door, undo the belt and run? Maybe, but Phil would surely catch him. Wait till he's not looking, Kelly decided. If he starts the car again, run for it. I can surely see well enough in broad daylight not to run into a car.

But Phil was just talking in a low sad voice. "I never hit her, I would never hit Barbie," Phil tried to explain what had happened so long ago, searching for words. "I never hit Amanda, either. We were drunk, Amanda and I. Yelling and cursing at each other. You know how Amanda can be."

Kelly sat very still, not nodding in agreement even though he did indeed know how Amanda could be. He decided he didn't really want to hear this story but how could he avoid it?

"Barbie ran away," Phil continued. "She was only thirteen, just a little older than you are now. And not much bigger." He smiled. "Amanda blamed me, of course, so I went looking for her."

"You found her," Kelly said. This was a scary story, especially the way Phil told it in his quiet voice. Kelly eased one hand toward the belt release, hoping Phil wouldn't notice. Phil's voice was scary because it was so ordinary in an extraordinary situation. To Kelly, voices were more identifiable than faces, especially without his glasses. He'd recognized Amanda's voice, even screaming in the midst of traffic back in the parking garage of Triangle Square and he didn't think he would ever forget Phil's voice.

"Yeah, I found Barbie after she ran. I thought I might know where she had gone. She had a boyfriend, a real crud who was a year or two older than her. We didn't live in a very nice neighborhood and I guess he wasn't any worse than any of the other boys she knew." Phil shrugged remembering.

Kelly reflected that Barbie's ability to choose boyfriends hadn't improved much over the years. Until she met Harold Mann, at least. He winced to remember his own part in setting up her second date with Dr. Mann.

Phil's story continued. "I found her, and him. I'm not sure what was going on but she had most of her clothes off. I think she was going to try to get even with us." He sighed. "They had been drinking, too, I told her she was going to grow up just like her mother." He coughed, embarrassed.

Kelly shivered, afraid for his mother, although this had happened long ago. And afraid for himself, right now. He hoped his face didn't show anything as he tried to steel himself to reach for the door handle.

Phil kept talking, looking at Kelly but not really seeing anything in the present time. "I took her home, Amanda was passed out. I had another drink..and...and I think Barbie did, too. Stupid of me to let her, she was too young. What happened next was all my fault."

The silence stretched for a long time.

Kelly mulled the story over, replaying what Phil had said--and what he hadn't said. Forgetting about his own tentative plan to make a run for it, he wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. Then he picked up the little yellow-haired Robin doll and hugged it tightly. He didn't like the implications of the story.

Phil had turned away, gazing out over the parking lot. Kelly could have gotten a head start but he wasn't watching Phil; he was seeing his thirteen-year-old mother in a situation that made him want to scream. His throat ached and his eyes burned.

"I don't really remember it," Phil admitted. "But Amanda...found us." His voice caught, the silky ordinary smoothness of it broken by half a sob. "Barbie, I am so sorry, honey," he whispered.

Kelly said nothing, his mind numbed by the story. He held the doll in one hand, hugging it to his chest with the other hand pressed to his face next to his mouth so hard it almost ached. He held his breath so long his chest ached then he breathed in a long ragged gasp.

Phil stared into the distance. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand; not the first tears he had shed over his crime. And probably not the last, he thought.

In the far corner of the lot, a lone crow seemed intent on harrassing a group of sea gulls. He hopped this way and that, pecking at the big seabirds, causing the entire flock to move away. Each time he provoked the gulls to move, he celebrated with a little crow dance and a little crow song--an awkward hop and an unmusical croak. Phil watched the bird-brained drama for a moment.

"You remember that scene where Luke and Vader have been dueling?" he finally said.

"You're trying to tell me that you're my father?" asked Kelly abruptly. His head felt full of helium, his mouth seemed stuffed with dry cotton balls and butterflies breakdanced in his stomach. He felt wet tears running down his cheeks.

Phil sighed, relieved but now afraid in an entirely new way. "You're a smart girl," he said. "Smart and pretty and I'm proud of you at the same time that I'm ashamed of what I did." How could the child ever forgive him, he wondered.

Kelly gulped. This guy is my dad and he thinks I'm a girl. His mind stuttered on the idea of having a dad in the first place. This is just, way too much, he told himself. I must be having a really weird nightmare.

But the sun shone and the wind brought a hint of the sea. Kelly closed his eyes, squeezing the remaining tears out to run down his cheeks. When he opened them, the sun still shone and the crow had gained another two yards from the gulls. Kelly couldn't see the birds except as distant blurs but he heard the victory caw.

Phil handed him a tissue from the small dispenser Andie kept in the console. Kelly wiped his eyes and blew his nose carefully. I'm not even trying and I bet I look like a girl doing this, he thought. What do I do now?

"Let's get out of the car," Phil said, looking around. So far no one had paid them the slightest bit of attention.

Kelly sat up straighter, startled. "Where are we going?"

"You needed to use the bathroom?"

"Oh, yeah." Kelly giggled nervously. He really did need to go even if he would have to use the girls' room. Maybe he could get away from Phil while doing that, or tell someone what was going on. He glanced at the man beside him. Was this guy really his father?

"Besides," said Phil. "The police will be looking for this car." He got out and stood beside it for a moment, looking around, enjoying the freedom and the beautiful weather. "You won't believe how hot it is up in Modesto right now," he commented.

Kelly opened the car door on his side and tried to get out, forgetting for a moment that he had been buckled in. He struggled with the belt a moment. His mind kept stumbling over strange and alarming facts, the same ones over and over again. This guy says he's my father. The police are looking for me. I've been kidnapped. I'm going to be on television and maybe milk cartons. And I'm.... He looked down at what he was wearing. He fingered the earrings in his ears, then the blonde curls and finally stared at his painted nails for a moment.

"Kelly," said Phil softly.

Kelly's head jerked around. Phil stood there on the passenger side of the car smiling at him. "Need some help with that belt?"

"Uh, no," Kelly said and finally managed to get untangled.

"I got your stuff out of the trunk," Phil said holding up the bags of clothing from the Gap, all in one hand. In his other hand he held the travel bag he had brought with him.

"Oh," said Kelly, considering. He opened the car door and stepped out of the car. Phil taking the stuff seemed like a bad sign somehow. He watched as Phil put the bags down long enough to hide the car keys in the CD tray.

"Wouldn't want your aunt's car to get stolen, but I don't want to take the keys, either."

"Why are you doing this?" asked Kelly. "Why didn't you just come up to me and introduce yourself?" He knew his voice had gone squeaky and he coughed to try to clear it.

Phil stood and picked up the bags again. "It's hard to explain. But I'm violating parole, just being south of Santa Barbara."

Kelly boggled. "You went to prison?"

Phil nodded. "Yes, for what I did to your mother. She was only 13 and I should have protected her..." Phil stopped and looked up at the sky for a moment, his throat working, his eyes filling with tears.

Kelly stared. He noted the line of Phil's jaw, the shape of his ears, the way his eyes tilted up at the corners. He closed his eyes so as not to start crying too. I should probably tell him that he's got scratches on his face.

"I'm so sorry," said Phil. "I had to... Amanda...." He stopped again and wiped his face carefully with the back of his hand. "Let's go inside the mall and talk. If the cops find this car, I don't want to be near it." He started toward the Mall entrance, actually, the entrance to the Sears store.

Kelly followed, not entirely sure why he didn't simply run away screaming.

At the far end of the lot, the crow celebrated another small victory.

* * *

The paramedics loaded Amanda into the ambulance over her protests. "I'm fine, really, I'm fine," she kept saying. She wasn't; her head hurt abominably and she felt confused about what had just happened. Kelly, Phil, Barbie--it was all a blur for the moment.

Rachel patted her hand, "You've had a concussion, you hit your head when you fell. They just want to watch you for a few hours." Then to the ambulance driver. "Where are you going? I'll meet you there?"

"Hoag," said the driver. "Just go out and follow Newport toward the beach, it's on the right and there are signs. You can't miss it."

Rachel laughed ruefully and Amanda called from the gurney. "You'd better tow her, boys; she can get lost in a parking lot."

One of the policemen stepped up; his little gold name bar above his badge read, "Hawes". "Ma'am?" he said to Rachel. "I'll just follow you so I can talk to you and Mrs. Pearson again." He smiled. "I'll help you find the hospital in case you get lost."

* * *

Andie repeated parts of her story to the police carefully, leaning back on the side of the cruiser. They would probably ask all this stuff again. "Yes, Kelly is the child of my brother's girlfriend. They're in Las Vegash for the weekend...." Barbie had left a message for Andie on the cellphone that now sat in Phil's pocket, so no one yet knew that Harry and Barbie were on their way back already.

"Can you go over the description of the child again, Miss," the police officer asked. Sgt. Mendoza, according to his badge, smiled a serious, reassuring smile. His dark good looks were completely lost on Andie at the moment though but her dramatic piercings and flamboyant style intrigued him.

"Kelly was wearing blue shlacks and a yellow tank top. Um, blonde curly hair from a child's perm I had just done. Pink nails." Andie sniffled. "Little, two tone heart earrings?" I can't tell them Kelly is a boy. But what will Amanda tell them? And they'll talk to Barbie eventually. Oh, God. We're all going to end up on the front page of The Star. I'm sorry, Kelly, I'm so sorry.

"How tall is she?" the policeman asked, thinking that Andie's own height was being deliberately flaunted with high heels. At six-foot-three he could look her right in the eye. Keep your mind on the job, Bartolo, he told himself.

Andie took a deep breath. "Kelly is about four-foot-shix, I think. Maybe less. Barbie, that's Kelly's mom, is only four-foot-nine, I think. Short people." She smiled to think of Barbie singing the Randy Newman tune.

"Yes, ma'am," said the policeman. "And Kelly's full name?"

"Kelly Drew, um, I don't know--I mean--uh, I'm not sure about a middle name?" No slipups with pronouns, she reminded herself. Just don't use any; like it's not something you haven't had to do before. A lot of Andie's friends and acquaintances were of uncertain gender.

"Would you know where we could get some pictures?" Bartolo asked. When she looked directly at him, he couldn't resist lifting his brows and widening his eyes reflexively.

"Oh!" Andie yelped so sharply that he jumped. "I've got shome right in my purse, taken just today." She pulled the pictures out before she had time to think it through. The policeman held out his hand and she hesitated. But this was what Kelly looked like right now, she thought, and the police needed these pictures of Kelly--dressed as a girl. How long could she hope to keep them from finding out the little kidnap victim was really a boy?

Bartolo took the pictures and shuffled through them quickly. He whistled. "A little darling, isn't she? How old did you say she was?"

"Twelve," Andie answered. "Kelly's twelve, but--uh, I was taking some pictures--and, um, you know? They always get shmall older kids to play younger ones, like in commercials?"

"Kelly's an actress? Model?" he guessed. The kid certainly had the looks. Delicate features, a saucy smile and a precocious attitude seemed evident in most of the photos.

"Uh, no, no. Not yet, anyway. Just..." Andie shrugged.

Bartolo's eyes drifted to Andie's chest then up to her face. "Just in case? Or just for fun?"

"Jusht for fun, really," Andie admitted. "Barbie probably wouldn't let Kelly do it."

It probably would be fun to get to know this little girl's aunt, Bartolo reflected. She had a wild look but the lisp made her seem sweetly vulnerable despite all the hardware. Back off, Mendoza, he told himself. Not now, stick to business--we find the kid then we date the aunt. "Can I keep these photos?" he asked.

"Sure," said Andie. "I can print more, they're from my digicam."

Bartolo looked at the pictures again. "She's beautiful," he said then he looked up at Andie's devastated expression. "We'll find her," he said reassuringly. "She made that cellphone call, we'll know where it was made from soon when the techs get through looking at the cell relay logs. It takes awhile."

Andie smiled weakly and nodded. "I just wish..." but she let that thought trail off.

* * *

In an airplane somewhere over the Upper Mojave Desert, Barbie tried to relax. She pulled at her lower lip then frowned because she had lipstick on her fingers. Taking a tissue out of the tiny, fashionable purse Harry had bought for her in Vegas, she wiped her hands carefully. Harry Mann watched her every move, saying nothing.

"I keep thinking about all the terrible things that can happen to kids," Barbie said, looking around for somewhere to dispose of the soiled tissue. "What if Kelly met someone who knew him while Andie had him playing dressup? Or... just someone with an interest in...pretty little, um, girls?" Barbie had reason to feel that girls were more vulnerable than boys.

"That can happen to boys, too," said Harry. "Not to say you shouldn't worry; I'm a parent too. It's impossible not to worry but we'll be home soon and Kelly will be fine." Home, he thought, she called my place home earlier. "I love you," he said outloud, startling both of them.

Outside, more than a mile below them, the lonely Colorado made its increasingly silty and salty way through a series of dams diverting water to retirement and recreation communities, farmland and metropolises; all of them getting thirstier, greedier and more jelous and paranoid about their water supply. The wide desert had only the narrow bands of a few natural rivers running through it but canals and pipelines spread green life from the City of Angels to the Valley of the Sun. By the time the Colorado reached Mexico, little remained but a kind of thin brackish mud--too wet to plow, too salty to drink. There would never be enough water.

Barbie looked up at Harry, her expression open and honest. His devotion to her on such short acquaintance baffled and dismayed her and she wore her feelings right where he could see them. "I like you, too, Harry. But I don't think I'm really the person you think I am?" she said cautiously.

He shrugged. "I don't care. You're sweet, you're beautiful, you're good in bed--" she blushed, "--you're just altogether wonderful and I know I'm talking like a fool." He ended up grinning. "But I do love you, Barbie. We can get married and I can help you take care of Kelly..."

"Not--not now," she interruppted, pleading. "Please, Harry, let me see Kelly and get this crazy stuff Andie started straightened out. I can't think about us when I'm worried about my kid?"

He nodded. "Sure, honey. Sure. We'll be there in less than an hour, now. Twenty minutes to get through the airport and ten to get home where you can clean Andie's clock if it needs it."

The picture of her tiny self physically demonstrating her displeasure on Andie--a foot taller and almost twice her weight--caused Barbie to smile. "Thanks, Harry," she said and when he leaned toward her, she turned her face up to be kissed.

* * *

Kelly and Phil walked toward the Sears entrance, Phil loaded down with all three Gap shopping bags and his own travel bag. "Can I carry my stuff?" Kelly asked.

Phil considered. "You've got your purse and your dolly, I don't think you could carry all of it?"

"How about I take one bag then, and put--uh, my purse and Robin in the bag?"

"Okay," said Phil, passing the lightest of the shopping bags over. He smiled down as Kelly stuffed the red heart-shaped purse and the yellow-haired plastic doll into the bag. "The doll's name is Robin?" he asked.

"Uh huh," said Kelly. "Andie gave him to me." How could he be doing this? Treating his kidnapper as if he were family? Well, he was family, reflected Kelly. But I guess I'm doing it because not doing it would somehow be worse?

"How come you carry a boy doll?" Phil asked, holding the door of the department store open for both of them.

Kelly looked up at his father and said seriously, "'Cause I'm really a boy?" He couldn't keep his face completely straight, though, and he knew his dimples were showing.

Phil laughed. No one in the store gave them a second glance.

He sounds nice when he laughs, thought Kelly. But he sighed. "No one ever believes me," he complained.

"I shouldn't wonder," said Phil. "A lot of little girls wish they were boys but you don't really look the tomboy type?" He tried to sound teasing and not betray the worry the crowds in the store were causing him.

"Well, I guess I'm not, really," Kelly admitted. "I mean not a tomboy. I'm just a boy inside." Why am I telling him, Kelly wondered. He's not going to believe me unless I undress.

"I see," said Phil. Kids, he thought and grinned, talking to Kelly helped distract him from his agoraphobia. "What's your full name, honey?"

"Kelly Gaylen Drew," said Kelly. I never tell anyone my middle name, he reminded himself. Too late now.

"Gaylen?" Phil looked pleased. "That's my middle name. Your mother gave you one of my names."

"Really? Isn't Gaylen a girl's name?" Kelly had always thought so.

"No, no. I guess it can be either one. Like Kelly, huh?" Phil smiled.

"I guess." Kelly made a face.

Phil laughed again. I'm just a guy taking his daughter to the mall, no one is looking at us, no one thinks a thing about us. He relaxed a little bit more. His entire attitude and demeanor had changed since he had told his story to Kelly. "I guess you should just be glad she didn't name you Phyllis, huh? I think, Kelly is a lot prettier name than Phyllis, don't you?"

"Yeah. Oh yeah," Kelly agreed and rolled his eyes. "What's your whole name?" he asked after a moment.

"Phillip Gaylen Constable."

"Constable? Isn't that like a policeman?" Kelly asked.

"Uh huh, it's an old word for policeman. I guess one of our ancestors was a cop, huh?" he grinned down at Kelly, amused in spite of himself. He didn't really fear policemen. "Makes you think, don't it? Are you glad Barbie only gave you my middle name? She could have saddled you with Constable, too, I suppose."

"Huh," said Kelly, mulling that over. They reached an escalator at the rear of the store. "What should I call you?" he asked, stepping onto the moving treads first.

"Well, I'd love it if you called me 'Daddy'. But I guess I don't deserve that..." Phil let the thought and the words trail off as he stepped in behind Kelly. Something heavy and metallic in the bag he carried bumped against the metal side of the escalator. They both started at the noise and looked down.

"What's in the bag? Your stuff?" Kelly asked, half turned around so he could see.

"Just some stuff I thought I might need," said Phil, easily. "I still might so I better keep it." His grip tightened slightly.

They got off the escalator on the main floor of the mall. "I call my mom 'Barbie' most of the time," Kelly said. "Is it okay if I mostly call you 'Phil'?"

"Sure, honey," said Phil. "That's fine. I wish I had been around for you sooner. I'd love to have seen you as a baby, watched you grow up..." he trailed off again. "Are you hungry? This is some sort of foodcourt, isn't it?"

"Uh huh, we could get a burger or a pizza? But I already ate?" He suddenly remembered the lunch with the boys from his school and then something else came to mind and he squirmed uncomfortably.

"Oh, right." Phil said. "You needed a bathroom. Well, they've got one here in the Carl's, don't they? You go ahead and I'll get a burger while you're gone." Getting a burger was such a normal thing to do.

Kelly handed the bag he had been carrying to Phil, "Hold my stuff, Daddy, the floors in these places are nasty."

Phil took the bag and smiled at the scary crowd as Kelly scampered off.

* * *

"Yeah," Richard told the policeman again. "He didn't try to hit me. I could see it in his face; he was scared--uh--spitless that he would and when I signalled him to go left he did. He swerved to miss me. All he hit was my shoe." Richard held up both of the expensive sneakers, one with the peculiar mark in the instep side left by contact with the convertible. "I couldn't get my foot out of the way in time."

Richard glanced down at his sock-clad feet on the concrete floor and wiggled his toes reflexively. The cop looked down, too, shaking his head. "You're lucky you're not going out of here in an ambulance, kid. Don't go making excuses for the guy."

NEXT: "Shopping for the Devil"

  

  

  

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