RANSVESTIA

I blushed uncomfortably when she mentioned the boys. But I had not had my eyes closed. I had noticed their hungry, admiring stares all too often. So mother and I got along fairly well. Even though on occasion I still had an argument about the girls' clothes I was forced to wear. But she always had the last word:

"Do you want the neighbors to think you are one of those strange girls?"

I did not. I wanted them to think I was a boy. But it dawned on me that it was sort of late for this. Much too late.

I guess mother really had wanted a daughter. It must be hard for a widow to bring up a boy, without help, in a strange country, not having the faintest idea what kinds of thoughts turmoil around in a growing young man's head. She seemed to enjoy my situation to her heart's content. She basked in repeating the tale of my heroic ... re- peat, "heroic" action when Jimmy was in danger. She had made many new acquaintances because of it, new friends as well. That made her happier than I had ever seen her, and she obviously thought that this good thing was caused by me being a girl.

She still insisted on lacing me in that damn corset everyday and without me knowing it, had made an adjustment, so the waist was two inches smaller. It became rather clear to me, what that thing of tor- ture had done to my figure. The way my pectoral muscles were pushed up and out was practically obscene. The curves on my hips and the way my fanny stuck out now, was just as bad.

Lately I had begun to think about school. I brought it up several times during the summer. The last time mom had replied: "Do not worry about that now, Lieberski ... when the time comes we will do the right thing."

If I had only known.

My trio of supervisors had obviously discussed it amonst them- selves. One Saturday morning two weeks before school would begin, they took me out shopping. The presence of the whole committee bothered me not a little. What were they planning? I soon found out.

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