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“Are you waiting here to be driven somewhere, baby?” a woman asked curiously when she stopped her car before him.
James gave her an open, gentle smile and explained as it was,
“No. I’m at work. I’m a sex worker.”
“Oh,” she eyed him with a tinge of aroused anticipation. “Then, you may hop inside if you want. If you trust me.”
James felt he could believe her. He could feel and read people, so he knew that she found him attractive enough and even inwardly pleasant. He was emphatic and sincere, and it was happiness to see that people answered with appreciation.
“I can do it if you don’t mind,” James reciprocated, walking over her nice white Hyundai to get to the passenger seat. From the way the woman was watching him, he could once more conclude that she shouldn’t have experienced any repulsiveness, or fright, or denial at the sight of him touching and evading her property.
She seemed to be generous and open-minded. Good. So good.
James settled in his seat, smiled at her once more, and buckled himself in. He wanted her to feel that he was grateful for the time and attention she decided to devote to him. She looked great, dressed in the wool coat, with the strands of her silky blond hair, pouring on top of the fabric.
James’s heart always leaped at the sight of the wealthy, joyous people. He wished all people to be wealthy. Moreover, she seemed to be blessed inside as well: thin features of her face were gleaming with intelligence.
Her round careful eyes were studying him, not insistently.
“How much would you like to earn from this, baby?”
She should’ve been a little astonished because of his outfit, therefore she’d confused him with an ordinary traveler. The thing was that James didn’t own any leather or latex suits, so he came to people like he would’ve been in everyday life: wearing a pair of simple jeans and his favorite blue shirt. He was aware that these clothes made him look thin, young, and, what was essential, sincere.
“I would like to gain as much as you’re able to give. But it’s not for me. I gather money for charity.”
Her eyebrow curved inquiringly.
James licked his lips, being usually agitated when it came to this so important explanation. Keeping his movements slow and not threatening, he reached to the bag at his side and pulled out a transparent folder with documents.
“Here,” he displayed the papers patiently. “I would like to make you happy, in any way I can. You may do me a favor in return if you help those organizations. My resources are limited, so, alone, I can’t give them enough, unfortunately. But I would like to because those projects need to exist, for people around the world to know that they are not abandoned.”
“Interesting.”
Her hands were still leisurely laying on the helm, not giving any sign of worrying or irritation, so James peeked up with the mixture of hope and agitation.
“May I explain it to you? I mean, talk more about the organizations.”
“Sure. I’m focused. You can show what you want while I’m driving.”
Encouraged by her calm confidence, James turned the papers over and shifted them a bit closer to the woman’s face, so she could take a glimpse while simultaneously watching the road. James was cautious, after all: he had all necessary information, stamps, and requisites. The last thing he wanted was to deceive a generous soul.
“Here. This one helps orphanages in Wales. This one protects the rights of black people. With this one, you can help people who fight cancer. This one struggles to provide homeless people in the U.K. with food and shelter. This one prevents human trafficking. The next gives women who suffered from domestic violence a place to live and also provides therapy for them. With this, you can help the theatres in Scotland to survive. And this one works to decrease the level of alcohol addiction in Ireland.”
“Appealing.”
“Yes. I’m happy to be a part of them. But you shouldn’t reciprocate if you can’t. Seriously, don’t even think about it if it would be uncomfortable for you.”
“I look like a rich woman, however?”
James didn’t dare to agree.
“It’s alright, babe. Thanks for the presentation. It was one of the queerest I’ve ever observed. Thank you for the entertainment, anyway. What if I donate five hundred bucks to each of them?”
“It would be fantastic,” James gasped and lowered his hand to rummage in the pocket. “Here. I have all the requisites written separately.”
“Splendid.”
The car stopped by this time. James couldn’t distinguish where exactly they get because of the winter darkness around. But it looked like they were under a bridge — the construction covered them from above, giving a sense of solitude.
The woman snatched her IPhone before politely accepting the piece of paper from James’s hand. Apparently, she was prone to multitasking.
“Okay, sweetheart. I will be sending money to these numbers. Meanwhile, you may do what you have to.”
She unbuckled the seat belt and raised her backside a little, to give him access to the zipper on her skirt. James smiled at her, reaching down.
———
“Did you like your cappuccino?”
“Yes. I can order one for you, too.”
“No, thanks. I only wanted to know if you’re satisfied.”
James leaned closer to the table and gave him a little grin, which Michael reciprocated, although it felt odd. They usually chose the same drinks in this restaurant, and each time they tasted similar, that’s why Michael didn’t understand his friend’s interest. James behaved strangely at times, but it was a part of his charm.
“Are you alright? Is there some news?”
“Actually, yes,” Michael lowered his head, fixing his gaze on the tabletop where he had laid his nervous hands. “I was thinking about something a lot. But I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear… It’s hard. I will pull myself together and then I’ll tell you what it is. Later.”
“Oh, okay.”
“You look agitated.”
“Yes!” the blue eyes sparkled at Michael. James did look a little mad, and it seemed like he could barely sit in one place. “I managed to gather quite a lot of money for the latest charity events. I told you about my intentions. And what I did. I wasn’t sure if I could succeed, but maybe, people felt my love and care for them, so they were kind to me.”
“Even that one who forced you to— Oh, you’re strong, James. I’m so happy that nobody has hurt you. I was waiting for your call each morning and I was ready to call the police any minute. But you better go to a hospital after all of that. Get tested, to know that you’re safe.”
“Well, you’re right. I have to be sure that I’m not a threat to others. I was going to a hospital anyway.”
“Really? Why?”
“To talk to the doctors. I would like a consultation. A woman sent me a letter where she told the story of her child. The boy is sick and needs a healthy lung, urgently. So I thought, I go to a gym almost every day and I eat well, so my organs have to be healthy. Why not give them away if it may save someone’s life? I mean, I can learn how to live with one lung. And with one kidney, and without a part of bone marrow. Why not? It’s a great chance for me to help. Yeah, it excites me.”
Michael handed his cup to the waitress, struggling to look casual. Then he started to rub at his forehead and temples profusely. He stopped only when the skin became hot and stinging. What James just said to him… It was a lot.
“Dude, you’re okay? Hey, don’t you appreciate my idea? And what were you going to tell me?”
Michael raised his eyes. Luckily, he knew how to contact James’s family without him knowing. Considering James’s tendency to self-harm a few years ago, it should’ve been the right decision.
———
James wasn’t depressed when he found out about his family’s decision to put him in a mental institution. He loved them and trusted them, so he knew they wouldn’t do anything that could possibly harm him.
“I’m sorry,” James said to them because it was clear how much they were worried about him.
He backed a vegan lemon pie as a symbol of reunion.
James was excited and grateful to know that he would receive qualified help in the institution, although he couldn’t comprehend his disease and whether he even had one. He saved one piece of the pie for his friend, and Michael pecked him on the cheek before they parted.
James wasn’t offended when Michael stopped paying him visits after some time. There was a year of living out of home ahead of him, so he needed to get used to the new conditions. It wasn’t hard, though James was anxious. But he knew how to disclose his vulnerability before people, so they could feel more powerful, or entrusted, or just understood.
He wanted to know the inmates closer. They seemed to like music and singing, and storytelling. James asked his relatives to send him a guitar, and then he started to recall the tunes from the different repertoires. His voice and memory served him well: a deep-rooted desire to show off and please people was giving enough motivation. So the inmates quickly grew interested in his performances. James was happy to entertain them and hear their applause.
He tried to befriend the nurses and doctors as well. Although, he had to admit he didn’t understand his illness. The inmates called his case “the Christ-syndrome”, but whatever it was, James felt it was a big part of his personality — something engraved into him, without a possibility to remove painlessly. He asked the nurses about his progress anyway.
The staff liked him and, at the same time, wasn’t happy with him probably. James was obediently taking medication and going through therapy sessions, yet he didn’t feel any significant changes in his inner world. They released him after a year though. And it was kind of a sad event: he knew he would miss the place, just like the inmates would miss their “star”.
The wide world was waiting for him. He once more sent a grieving letter to the mother who lost her boy because James couldn’t provide a lung. He remembered that today was the boy’s birthday. After expressing his condolences he buried the anguish deep inside and, shiny and heavy, went to meet his closest. It was time to prepare a reuniting dinner.
“I don’t want to sit idle for a minute,” he claimed at the table, not forgetting to sound calm — to appear healthy. “I want to get a job and bring you some money. Hey, does Michael still work as a receptionist in the hotel?”
———
James’s heart was pounding while he was sweeping and mopping the floor in the lobby, and then wiping the mirrors. Michael should have come soon. James would see him, talk to him, and they would renew their friendship. James was the last who wanted to lose his friends.
He walked into the sunlit lobby, holding the wash-clothes and detergents close to his chest. They hit the tiled floor painfully when James’s eyes found the figure at the table. That was Michael. And not Michael.
“Hello, James. I’ll explain,” his friend said in a strange croaking voice.
“What happened to you…? If I only knew…”
“I’m sorry for not calling you while you were there, on treatment. I didn’t want to worry you. But while you were in the institution, I managed to do a thing I was dreaming about for a decade. Or maybe since I was a child. I never told you straightforwardly because, well— You’re smart and compassionate, but I thought, you’re not the one to understand and appreciate this. I’m sorry for shocking you.”
“You…” Michael stood up, and James grazed an incredulous glance along his frame. “You— I remember how we went to the gym every day. You were— You became plump.”
“Thank you.”
“You were under treatment whole this year.”
“Yes, James. I was taking the hormones I needed.”
Michael walked over the table, and James’s head started to spin from the sight of his pleated skirt, nylon tights, and heels. Michael was always so tall. And thin. But now James could see some strange swelling under the folds of his shirt.
“The fuck, man…” he breathed out when his throat squeezed dryly and slippery wetness tickled at the nostrils.
“James, I understand that you’re not ready. I haven’t prepared you, I’m sorry. You are my dear friend though. I care about you. At the moment, I would like you to show respect and call me Michaela instead of Michael and referred to me as her. It’s hard for me as well, James. I was worrying the whole morning, not knowing how to explain it to you. I’m happy though. I’m happy to be myself, finally. I wish you to be glad for me.”
Holding the tears back, James eyed the makeup, so inconvenient on that once perfect masculine face. That strong tight body seemed to be ruined as well. Michael did leave him, and James bit his cold trembling lips at the realization. He sniffed and blinked, traced the lines of Michaela’s odd feminine waist. Her blond well-groomed hair was proudly falling down her shoulders. The long sharp lines of that face were still recognizable. One thing popped into James’s mind, forcing him to draw air into his lungs with an audible hiss.
“Have you cut it off?” he nodded at the spot beneath Michaela’s abdomen.
She shook her head, which made James feel largely relieved.
“I didn’t have surgery.”
The resentment in James’s heart started to dissolve eventually. Guilt pinched at his insides instead.
“You were so masculine, dude,” he muttered, not believing that his words could have the slightest significance. But Michaela was looking at him and listening carefully. “In the nice meaning of this word. I loved you like a man. I adored you. We went through many male things together.”
“I haven’t gone anywhere, James. I’m here, with you. All that time I was dreaming about the day I could put on a pretty dress and not be embarrassed. The need to change my appearance was on my mind frequently, but it didn’t hurt our friendship. Yes, I loved to be your dude.”
“Oh, man… I mean, woman.”
“But you should know, James, that although I have respect for my male parts, nothing would make me happier than getting rid of them. After taking hormones the whole year and feeling that I’m on the way to finding harmony within myself, I started to reject my rude parts more sharply. It’s not good, I suppose, to loathe myself, but that’s what I have now.”
James gasped, which caused Michaela to bitterly grin at the tabletop.
“Well, you may like or even worship that part of me, James. My muscles and, excuse me, my dick. But I compare it to the parts of me the hormones were able to change. And I don’t like— Those old parts of me look so gross and terrible. It’s a struggle to look down at myself when I’m in a shower or change my clothes. I would like to take them away, but I can’t afford the surgery yet. And you don’t have to help me with money, James. I understand how uncomfortable it makes you. You’re suffering. I didn’t want you to.”
James intended to answer but sniffled loudly as a result.
“James,” Michaela repeated once more. “It doesn’t mean I have changed my appreciation of the human body. I don’t feel bad, looking at you. You’re a beautiful man. I’m not jealous of you but I adore you, like before.”
“Michael… Michaela, you say everything’s fine but you can’t be my bro anymore, right?”
“Oh no,” she sighed, the mixture of cheerfulness and anxiety. “I don’t know. It makes me sad too, a little. But I would like to remain your faithful friend.”
“I would like it as well,” James croaked, swallowing down the newly emerging tears. “It’s so unfair… I mean, to you. You had to go through so much. I can’t even comprehend.”
“Yes.”
“You’re a hero.”
Michaela smiled at him. She put a hand on his shoulder and, surely, didn’t scold when James flinched at the sight of her rings and manicure. She squeezed his arm a little tighter while he was wiping his wet cheeks and chin. James wouldn’t allow it in the presence of women, but Michaela could be proud that she was his special friend. Always.
———
The next day, James came to work with the bloodshot eyes. Michaela greeted him and noted how tired he looked, although today was a special date — St Andrew’s Day, which James always celebrated with all the sincerity and vibrancy of his heart. He should have cried at night, Michaela supposed but didn’t dare to ask.
After drinking coffee, James attended to his duties blindly, sweeping and wiping here and there. Michaela’s chest swelled at the sight of his languid movements. It seemed as if James was wounded and tried to keep his body from bleeding. Respecting the tradition, he was wearing a kilt today, and when he bent over to clean the tiles, Michaela’s glance laid on the lines of scars, raising along the back of his hip.
They stood out on his skin, transparently white. Those were the old scars, as Michaela knew, left by James in the period of desperate anxiety, when every minute of his life was a struggle with a comprehension that he couldn’t be there for everyone. He couldn’t take all the hurt on himself.
James had realized how much grief was around and decided that living in pain would be a way to show that he cared. So he’d started to cut himself, cruelly. Michaela had rushed into his room once, shocked by the sharp sound of his whimpers. James accepted his “helplessness” and stopped torturing himself, eventually.
Her friend was quite a character. There was always a warm place in Michaela’s heart — just for him.
“James,” she called from behind her desk. “Can you help with something? I’ll rely on your advice.”
James turned around and raised his eyebrows at her.
Michaela revealed that she had a date today. She was supposed to meet with her girlfriend in a bar this evening. James seemed to cheer up a little after the news that his friend was still into girls. He probably recalled how they had made double dates at times.
Michaela asked a girl to change her at the desk and then, after a few minutes, walked in front of James in a pretty satin dress up the knees.
“I’m so happy to do it, honestly,” she admitted after noticing James’s anxious glance. “For so long I’d been imagining how I would put on and wear dresses. They are so comfortable and beautiful. Well, my dream came true. And I would like to bring a cake and celebrate it with you, as soon as you’d be ready,” she then added, carefully, “If you would be, ever.”
Unintentionally, James started to ponder what kind of cake he could bake for her, a present for her birthday as Michaela. It would’ve been lovely if James wasn’t still so distressed and irritated at himself for behaving like someone narrow-minded.
The second dress was made in a Greek style. It fell to Michaela’s ankles like a smooth milky wave. She looked lean and exquisite, and James caught himself on adoring her appearance. He could still clearly see his friend Michael in that frame, but along with that, there were the notes of the new mesmerizing beauty.
“This one. I think your girl will like this, dude. Oh, not dude.”
Michaela chuckled.
“It’s fine. I can be your dude. I said I want to remain friends, James. Just try to refer to me as to her. I will be grateful for the effort.”
He nodded and then thought about the lost masculinity. He recalled how they both worked to make their bodies stronger. There were times when they went to the gym every day and kept diets to increase and firm their muscles. Michael hadn’t been looking uncomfortable or worried then, at least James hadn’t noticed. Maybe, Michael hadn’t shown his anxiety because he’d known James wouldn’t have understood. So, their happy time together appeared to be not that happy.
James dropped his head to his chest. Numb at the sight of it, Michaela held back a sorrowful sigh.
———
She didn’t refuse when James asked to spend the night in the same bar, so he could see the girlfriend and how the date would go. Michaela was obediently sitting at the table for the whole hour, but in the end, nobody came to meet her. James recalled the crowds of girls, running after her when she was a man. Each wished to get attention and love from him. She was a fabulous man.
After watching her for an hour, James could say that this woman was quite a sight as well, only that it wasn’t obvious. He finished his second glass of ale and, finally, found the courage to approach her.
“Are you alright?” he took the opposite chair.
Michaela nodded, scrutinizing her knees. She hasn’t drunk anything yet, so James could imagine how harsh the lump in her throat should’ve felt.
“She hasn’t come,” Michaela muttered under her breath.
She wasn’t about to cry. The smile on her lips looked gentle and forgiving. James’s heart softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I understand that I am now the one who makes people awkward.”
“You’re exceptional.”
“I’m also glad that you are my friend, James.”
He couldn’t restrain a grin and a lip-lick at that.
“It’s her problem that she isn’t here. It means that we can arrange a friend’s date, a dude’s date.”
Michaela laughed, then gave him a glance, shining with appreciation. There was also a gleam of quiet sadness though.
“James, I should’ve explained something. Well, I guess it’s too soon, but anyway, if you’ve just brought an idea of a date, I think I should say it.”
“What is it?”
“You’re blessed to be satisfied with your role as a man. And you like women. Well, I’m a woman now. And considering how close we always were, considering that people even assumed that we could be in a gay relationship…”
“Ow. I understand. And I’m not blushing, no.”
“I’m a woman and you could become my man. But! There’s a serious thing. Even while being a man, I loved you enough to say yes if you proposed to me, if you said you wanted me. But you didn’t. Because, well, I was your buddy Michael. You didn’t see my vulnerable soul behind that big gross body. So, if you didn’t, now it would’ve been offensive if you proposed to me only because I decided to change sex and now we are like… compatible.”
“I didn’t— Hey, man, I saw your vulnerable soul!”
“I’m sorry for the phrasing. I meant you didn’t love me in an intimate way. You can’t start to love me now, James. It’s certain.”
“Hm. Actually, yes… I didn’t think about it but you should be right…”
While there was silence, Michaela finally emptied her glass of water. Then James watched how she was smoking. She decided to wear the white gloves, a match for the white dress, to conceal those strong hands she was gifted with. She has put so much effort into being who she was — James didn’t try to expel the feeling of deep respect towards her. So he had to explain,
“Michaela, I was just— I’m sorry. I reacted like that because I felt in pain.”
“Yes, you did.”
“But it seemed like I felt your pain. Let me put it into words… I imagined how you were mutilating your beautiful body. I imagined how you were suffering. That made me so desperate.”
“Ow,” she finished with the cigarette and made one more sip from the glass. “I understand. I am an adult person and it was my conscious choice. A difficult choice. In my opinion, I was giving my body what it was lacking. It was mine so I made it happy, I improved it. Just like during that time we spent in the gym, remember?”
“Of course.”
“I was exercising because I felt I needed to work with what I’ve got. I didn’t dare to suppose that one day I could change myself and the attitude of the rest to me. I wasn’t feeling alone, though, don’t worry. You were really a nice friend, James. But when you put yourself into sex work, I realized what danger it meant for you. I understood that life was short and risky anyway, and that I wouldn’t stand if something happened to you. So I thought, why not to try. Why not to dare.”
“Oh, I got it now. I just… I thought you didn’t trust me. Like… I was compassionate, at least tried to be. But because of my boldness our friendship was sort of a lie. Because you couldn’t reveal to me what was really on your heart.”
She chuckled.
“Yes, we were sort of a power couple. But… No, you’re not right. Our friendship was great. You made me happy. I think I was sincere with myself enough then. Therefore I couldn’t be fully open with you. I had to process a lot. And you helped me, James, you should know it. You gave me a push I needed.”
“Okay. Okay, I trust you. I feel myself an idiot but I have helped you to become happier. So I’m happy, too.”
She extended her gloved hand.
“Brothers again?”
“Sure, sis.”