RANSVESTIA

taunts were not those of the Harris brothers, but of Sylvia, as if Sylvia had known me all of my life.

I was all mixed up.

And Sylvia Stern had been the cause of that, too. Whatever Sylvia thought she had on me, whether it was my high-pitched voice, the way I exploded when she pulled the DJ in skirts thing, whatever it was, she made sure I would never forget it.

When I had left WOMB that day she was certain I'd head for the only other station in Lewisburg, and of course, I had headed for KZYZ.

But when I got over there, the manager, his only full-time DJ, and Ruth, the Girl-Friday at KZYZ, were ready and waiting for me. Sylvia had phoned ahead and talked to Ruth. And the story Sylvia told had been on each of their faces when I walked in.

I had showed up at WOMB dressed in female clothes!

But how cruel had those first few remarks been? And how much of it had been mixed with the embarrassment and anger from having Sylvia start it all only minutes before? And then how much of it was all woven up in the dreams since then?

Only the desperation of needing the job had let me hang on those first few minutes. And only Ruth's plea to Mr. Moon had brought a momen- tary stop to the kidding and cruel jibes. "All right, Dillon," the manager had said, "fact is, we do need a man, and I guess you are a man.”

I could still picture his bald head and the ugly eyes as he'd said it. And I wanted to tell him to take his damned station and shove it, only to keep fightin' back was to keep admitting that they were very near the whole truth of the thing that somewhere, in all the madness Sylvia had stirred up, maybe somewhere deep within me - I was afraid of some- thing.

And across the room the thin wirey face of Tom Purcel had jerked with laughter. We were going to have to work together. We hadn't even been introduced, and yet, he was already planting his hooks in me. But Ruth Zittner's black eyes had narrowed with rage as her pretty face twisted into a snarl that made both Tom and Mr. Moon lay off me.