RANSVESTIA

"Father to ward me?” I asked.

"You little bastard," he snarled, "like a fairy godmother, if you must know."

"After all this time you finally admit it,” I said. I sat staring at the far end of the yard. “Oh, well, there's nothing I wanted to do tonight any- way." I threw the wire brush on the grass. I was lying, of course. All of a sudden I wanted very much to go to the ball.

Wendell led me through the gate between the two lawns and up into his house. It was the first time I'd been inside, and I was rubber-necking around in astonishment when Wendell shoved me down the hallway into the bedroom. "You can look tomorrow," he said. "We have a lot to do in the meantime." The bedroom itself was about what you'd expect: large, airy, and thoroughly feminine, with everything draped in lace and satin. I noticed two things right away. One was a large oil portrait of a young girl with bare shoulders and long blonde hair holding a rose. It was almost painfully beautiful and I walked over to look at it and whistl- ed in appreciation. "Who is she?" I asked, turning around. Then I realized.

"Yes," said Wendell very softly. "That's right."

"You were a very lovely girl," I said. “I don't blame you for - "I stopped.

"For being the way I am?" Wendell asked. "You don't mean that."

"No

I don't." I stopped. I wasn't sure what I meant.

The other thing I noticed was that on the bed was laid out a complete outfit. I looked at the gown and said, "You were expecting somebody?"

“Yes, and that somebody better hurry or his fairy godmother is going to start throwing pumpkins at him. Now, get in and bathe you're cov- ered with soot and don't forget to shave your underarms!" he shouted as I slammed the bathroom door.

—

Scarely ten minutes later he was shouting at me again to "hurry." Following instructions I dusted myself all over with powder and hurried out to where Wendell was impatiently waiting.

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