Lyndon pulled his shirt over his head and saw Dianne approach- ing with the wig and recoiled in horror.

'You're not putting that thing on me,' he cried.

'Oh for pity's sake Lyndon, stop being such a baby. It's just to prove a point.'

She pulled the wig onto his head and adjusted it into position.

'Now you'd have to tie it up for basketball,' she said and took out a comb and parted the thick shoulder length hair down the middle at the back and tied the two pigtail with a pair of pink ribbons. Then she pushed the protesting Lyndon down into a chair and tweaked a brush of mascara on his eyelashes and smeared a tube of lipstick over his lips.

'There you are,' she announced proudly, 'Lynda Watson of the Cranebrook Junior High basket- ball team.' She dragged Lyndon out of the chair and presented him in front of her full length mirror. Already flushed and embarrassed Lyndon was suddenly confronted with his own reflection. Reluctantly he had to admit to himself that he could pass as a girl, even in shorts and joggers.

'What do you think? Truthfully now.' asked Dianne.

'Oh hell, I suppose I look a bit like a girl.'

Dianne laughed. 'A bit. Why Lyndon, how modest you are, You actually look quite pretty. Now you see how we can get a- way with it. You just come home from school and put on

a bra and the wig and a little make-up and suddenly you're a girl.'

'But what will my mother say,' Lyndon still protested?

'Your mother,' Dianne laughed again, 'she'll love it. I know she didn't want you playing foot- ball and yet I think she'd be happy for you to be playing some sort of sport. Besides I just know she'd love to have an occasional daughter.'

'How do you mean,' Lyndon asked, surprised?

'Oh she's told me. She's often said she wishes she'd had a girl too before your dad ran off.'

'She's never said that to me.'

'Well don't you worry about it. I'll just bet she'd be thrilled to have a girl basketballer in the family. And my mother won't mind either. I already asked her what she thought about it over supper. That's her wig you're wearing.'

Lyndon put his hands to the hair. 'Really? I wondered where you got it from.'

'So what do you say? Will we give it a try?'

Lyndon turned back to the mirror. He really did look quite like a girl and he really did want to play basketball.

'Look I'll try it out at a couple of practices to see if I can get away with it. Remember, first I have to make the team.'

'Oh great. You'll make it alright. Now the first practice is Thurs- day, that's two days away and

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the first competition game is on Saturday week. Take the bra and wig home with you. You'll need them to change into when you are getting ready for practice. I'll tell the girls that you're joining us so they'll expect you. Is Linda OK for a name?'

'Sure I guess so but we better not use Watson. Make it Wilson, Lynda Wilson.'

Lyndon felt quite strange saying a name which was about to be- come his for the sake of the sport. He went to take off the wig and make-up to go home.

'No don't take it off. Your mother wants to see you in it anyway. She expected you to

agree.'

'You already told her?'

'I asked her if she would mind. As I told you she was all for it. Go on Lynda,' Dianne teased, 'go home and see if your Mom likes her new sporting daughter.'

Still a little shy and embarrassed, Lyndon pushed the door open and tentatively entered the kitchen. His mother was waiting and smiled broadly when she saw him.

'Ah, so you did agree to it. And my don't you look pretty,'

'You don't mind then,' Lyndon asked?

'Of course not. I think it's wonderful that you'll be able to play a sport now. Now I believe that you first practice is Thursday night. I'll arrange to buy you a practice tunic tomorrow and you can try it on tomorrow night. It was nice of Mrs. Smith to lend you