George McCanles' information about Malley was sketchy at best but I was curious and went off to see for myself. The thought of someone dressed like his twin sisters somehow intrigued me. I found Sharon and Susan Malley talking to some other girls in the senior high class but there was no sign of Patrick. The twins were wearing identical black cat costumes with white gloves for paws. I watched the crowd closely for Patrick but he was nowhere to be seen. I was beginning to think that McCanles was wrong and had seen someone else.

Mother called me into the kitchen and I gave up the search. Mrs. Malley was in the kitchen working on some sandwiches and standing next to her at the center table was Patrick. I must have looked straight at him for fifteen seconds before I realized who he was. McCanles was right some magical process had transformed Patrick into a replica of Sharon and Susan. He was not wearing a cat costume, however. Evidently McCanles meant that Patrick looked like the twins might look if they were going to a dance. Patrick was wearing a fancy pink party frock. They had curled his hair and made it into a real feminine hairdo with the aid of a shoulder length blonde fall. He wore lipstick and his face was expertly madeup like an older girl's with eyeshadow and everything. The dress had a soft petal pink velvet sleeveless bodice, closely fitted over a modestly bulging bustline. It was sashed at the waist with a pink satin cummerbund that tied behind in a large bow with trailing streamers. The contrasting rose pink skirt was a multi-layered affair made of silk chiffon and nylon net that billowed out from the waist to a hem just below the knee. I moved around the center table and saw that he was wearing nylon hosiery and high-heeled party pumps. His arms were sheathed to the elbow in pink gloves. He wore pendulous rhinestone earrings, a matching rhinestone bracelet and clutched a small rhinestone encrusted evening purse.

He was sticking close to his mother, slouching against the center table and avoiding my gaze. I was staring intently at him. The costume had a stunning effect and I was utterly captivated by the novelty of seeing a boy look so much like a girl. They had made him quite authentically beautiful. It gave me a strange feeling to think that the girl I saw before me was a boy. I scarcely knew why it had such an effect on me. For the rest of the evening I found it difficult to pry my eyes away from the magnetic Patrick. I followed him about like a puppy.

Mother had nothing special for me to do so I stood there and continued to gawk until Sharon and Susan came bustling to the kitchen door to get Patrick.

"Patrick the games are going to start," they called.

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