Miss Helen & I sat at her kitchen table, cups of herbal tea in front of us.
"Last Friday, when you were at your aunt's place, did she say something like, 'Carl, I want you to know that you may talk to me about anything that's on your mind. I won't repeat it to anyone, including your parents, without your permission. If there's anything you want to ask me about girls, or if you've ever wondered what you'd look like if you were a girl, we can act on that. You're my favorite nephew, and I'll help you if I can. Please think it over.'"
"That's almost word for word when she said!"
"My friend Jeanette was following my advice, Priscilla. She knows you've tried on her clothes, and she figures you've tried on your mother's clothes as well."
"Every chance I get", I admitted. "I hope I didn't damage anything."
"You didn't. And I did counsel her to not come right out and ask if you had put on her things. Your reflex action probably would have been to lie that you had not."
"I would have been a young Cleopatra."
"A young Cleopatra?"
"Princess of denial!"
"Princess of the Nile", Miss Helen groaned. "I think, dearie, your corset is on way too tight."
"No, it feels OK, and I love how it has changed my figure. But I'm sorry to say I probably would have lied."
"You don't have to lie to your aunt. She called me when you were on your way here, and she's looking forward to seeing her niece later on today."
" I'm looking forward to her seeing me this way. I like being called her favorite nephew, and I hope I'll be her favorite niece."
"You'll be her ONLY niece...so far as we know!" Miss Helen laughed. "But now it's time for us to drive to the recital."
"Drive? But Kathleen's school is only five blocks from here."
"The recital's in a larger school that Madame K. borrowed from another teacher who's out of town, Priscilla. It's in another part of Queens."
Once we were in her car,our newly installed seatbelts fastened, I asked Miss Helen how she knew my Aunt Jeanette.
"We met each other in eighth grade. That was...wow, about 25 years ago! We both enjoyed ballet, but our parents couldn't afford lessons. So we borrowed some books from the library and tried to teach ourselves. We couldn't buy things like leotards, so we practiced in our underwear."
Miss Helen drew a very deep breath, then said, "What I'm about to tell you must stay between us, Priscilla."
"I give you my word, I won't repeat anything," I vowed.
"We soon realized there was a physical attraction between us. And, there still is. From time to time we've, um, slept together."
"I've wondered why Aunt Jeanette never married. I guess now I know." I waited a few seconds, then said, "I've thought that if I were a girl, a real girl, I might not like boys."
"So Priscilla is also a lesbian?" Miss Helen asked.
I waited several more seconds before I said, "Yes."
"There's so much prejudice against women and girls like your aunt and me. Please promise me that you'll never take part in it."
"I promise, friend. We girls of all kinds need to stick together."
"We girls...I like that."
About halfway to the school we passed a vacant lot where some adolescent boys were playing in a mudhole. Most of them were quite dirty.
"Look at that, Priscilla. Doesn't that make you wish you were a boy?"
"My desire to be a boy equals 1% of your desire, Miss Helen."
"That much? We'll have to decrease that!"
"Those boys are acting like pigs," I stated firmly.
Miss Helen also spoke firmly, "Young lady, you're being very unfair."
I was about to apologize, when I looked into the rear-view mirror & saw a gleam in Miss Helen's eyes.
"I'm being unfair to the pigs, aren't I?"
"Yes, dear."
Of course we burst out into what some would consider very unlady-like laughter!
My next question was, "How many other boys have you dressed as girls, Miss Helen?"
" Several, Priscilla. I won't tell you their names, because I respect their mothers' and aunts' privacy, but I've been doing this for some time. It's something I started to do on weekends, but it's become a fulltime job."
"I'll bet the boys are shocked when they're brought to your house."
"Most are, but when they realize they have no choice, they decide it's better to look like a real girl than a boy in a skirt. And, I've had some boys who have asked their moms or aunts to bring them here. I'll save those stories for another time. But, I'll tell you that some of those boys will be in tutus this afternoon."
"I think I'll enjoy trying to figure out who they are."
"You won't have any confirmations or denials from me, dearie. But I suspect you would someday enjoy being in a tutu."
"Maybe today," I said.
The school where we headed has long since been torn down, but at the time it was part of a group of stores on Grand Avenue in Queens. It was next to a parking lot. And near the parking lot was a group of adolescent boys, a few of whom had large plastic horns.
"This looks like trouble", Miss Helen said. Then she said, "There's Miss Helga's car!" She parked next to it.
We got out of the car & walked to the front of the school. Miss Helga & Miss Ingrid were on the front steps.
"Hello, ladies," Miss Helen said. "Did anything happen?"
"Hello, Helen and Priscilla. Ingrid and I came here because the place we were going to burned down."
"Oh, NO!" I exclaimed. "Was anyone hurt, or..."
"No, nothing like that happened," Miss Helga replied. "But it looks like a case of arson, maybe for insurance."
"I'm sorry that happened, but I'm glad you ladies are here."
"So are we, Priscilla." Then Miss Helga pointed to the boys about thirty feet away. "But I'm certainly NOT glad to see that group!"
"They're making me glad I am NOT a boy!" I exclaimed, in hopes that they could hear me.
There were other adults on the steps, and some girls, but the only boys around were that crew.
Then Madame K. came out. She was a tall, thirty-something Russian émigré who wore a long blue coat over her ballet garb. Her expression was that of a woman who neither gave nor took any nonsense.
"Hello, good people. The recital will begin in twenty minutes." Then she looked toward the boys & announced, "The police will be here in TEN!" The boys seemed unperturbed by that news.
I took another look at the group, and I recognized one of the boys. It was ***, a good boy who was described as "kinda slow". A few of us (including Kathleen and myself) took it upon ourselves to protect him from any bullying. I'm certain he wasn't aware what those boys had planned.
Not wanting to see *** hurt, I walked toward the group.
"Priscilla, what are you doing?" Miss Helen shouted.
"I'll explain later," I shouted back as I strode toward the group.
TO BE CONTINUED!
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