How You Dress It Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 5

Hello all! Here is the next part of the continuing story! I don't know far into the story I am actually going to get, but it is much easier to write in bits, so its possible that I may continue this series even if I have to leave...enjoy!

How You Dress It Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 5

It was strange getting up almost an hour earlier than normal to get ready for school, but considering the extensive work it would take to perfect our looks, I was totally okay with it. I had selected a simple blue dress with straps and a pair of matching flats (Dad said it would have been nearly impossible in heels our first day); Frank had gone with a pushup bra, a navy tube top, and matching skirt and sandals; and Mark was surprisingly non-conservative with a strapless, black and white striped dress that cut off way before his knees, as well as some flats. After securing our wigs with bobby pins, Dad set to work with our makeup, one at a time, and did a fantastic job. Frank was so pleased that he didn't even question where Dad acquired his talent, much to our father's relief.
     "Okay, boys...oh should I say girls?" said my father, smiling at his new 'daughters'. "Get together - I want to take a picture to commemorate your courageous stand." We all stood together, posing for the camera, and let Dad take the shot. "Thanks, you three," he said, then turned away. I could see that he had tears in his eyes.
     Afterwards, we all piled into our car, as usual, but in very unusual circumstances. Dad dropped us out front of the building, and Frank leaped out of the car joyfully, bounding into school with his usual exuberance. Mark, after seeing that there was no pandemonium caused by the appearance of some strange new girl on campus, slowly exited the car next. I was about to leave too, when Dad grabbed me. "Hang on one sec, Erik." I stopped, and turned to my father, who had that same glistening look in his eyes. "There's a lot of things I want to say to you right now," he said tearfully. "What you're doing both scares me and makes me extremely proud. But whatever the result, don't let this experience corrupt you. I'm worried that you're doing what you're doing because of me and who I am, but I don't want you to put your head on the line for something that I've tried to give up for years. Its an enchanting thing in our family, and I don't want you to be a part of the cycle that I've gone through."
     I was baffled by the sudden outburst of emotion. I had almost completely forgot about how personal this struggle was for my father, to see us doing the exact thing that he gave up. But how could something like this corrupt us? "Dad," I answered gently. "I was aware of how personal this issue was to our family. But this is about Judy more than anything else. Bullying of transgender, gay, crossdressing, or other alternative kids is unacceptable, and the best way I can see to stopping this abuse is by making the alternative a natural expectation. I hope that people can step into other people's heels for a minute and realize that there is nothing wrong, nothing corrupting about crossdressing. Besides," I said, smiling as I got out of the car. "I could never dream of being you, because I could never have been as fabulous as I remember seeing you long ago!"
     With that, I left for class, leaving my father with a small smile on his face that seemed to be equal parts pleasure and sadness.

I managed to slip into my usual desk without flashing anyone just before the bell, and attendance was called out by my first period teacher, Mrs. Paul.
     "Susan?"               "Here!"
     "Jackson?"            "Present!"
     "Owen?"               "Here!"
     "Erik?"
     "Here!" I called out, raising my hand. "But call me Erika, please." There were some snickers from the crowd. "You look a little different today, Erika," Mrs. Paul said, peering over her glasses at me. "New outfit," I replied to a ripple of laughter. Mrs. Paul smiled slightly, and went on recording attendance. The rest of the period ran rather smoothly - sure, there were plenty of whispers, but nothing that I didn't expect. I even had a girl complement me on my dress when I walked out of class. In the halls, I passed by Matt, who strode by without even a second glance. I rode my wave of success all the way through to lunch, were I regrouped with my 'sisters' to talk about the day.
     "How's it been going?" I asked, well aware of the plethora of disgusted, amused, and curious stares from kids around me.
     Mark shrugged. "Fine, I guess. Didn't really know what to expect. I didn't get a lot of attention - I don't normally talk in class - but I definitely heard some guys talking about me in class. Brett and his friends...they didn't take to kindly to my attire. But no physical harm..."
     "Wow, we've been lucky then!" Frank said happily. "Judy was kind of shocked when I showed up like this, and I had a couple people come up to us and ask if we were gay, but they haven't laid a finger on us all day! Must think we have cooties or something..."
     "...or something..." said an angry voice behind me. I turned, and saw Matt towering over me. "What the hell, Erik?" he seethed, visibly angry. "I knew you weren't against this kind of freakish display when Judy moved in, but I NEVER thought I would see the day when you were in a goddamn dress!"
     "Is there a problem, Matt?" I asked innocently. "And please, call me Erika," I continued, fluttering my eyelashes at him. That really set him off. "ERIKA?" he practically screamed. "WHERE THE HELL IS MY BEST FRIEND?"
     "I'm right here, Matt," I replied bravely. "Always have been. What I have been wanting to know is how the hell my friend could have given Judy so much flack. She's a genuinely good person...just with a different perspective on dressing than you and I. Now me and my brothers are trying out this perspective to show you and everyone else that normal people crossdress. Why don't you try it with us?"
     "Are you kidding me?" he shrieked, his eyes suddenly fearful. "If you thing that I'm going to even touch a dress like some sissy queer, then you've gone crazier than you look right now."
     "Really? Because I'm pretty sure you walked by me today without even noticing me..."
     He blushed angrily at that statement. "Oh, I noticed...I just couldn't believe that my macho best friend would be caught dead in a dress."
     "It's just a dress...what's the big deal? I'm still me. It's just like we're trying to prove - it's nothing to make a fuss about..."
     "Oh, it is definitely something to make a fuss about," Matt glowered, staring daggers into my madeup eyes. "A fuss that I will continue to make, as long as you continue to put up this charade and try to corrupt other normal boys. So I'm only going to ask you once: are you Erik my friend, or Erika the crossdressing nancy boy?"
     "You know who I really am," I said, trying not to show any emotion. "But until I prove this point, I'm Erika."
     "Then Erik is dead to me. As are his 'brothers'," he said, tossing a glance over at Mark and Frank. With that, my best friend of 17 years stalked off, and it took all of my willpower not to cry in frustration and sadness. Frank immediately embraced me in a hug. "You were so brave standing up to Matt," he said consolingly. "Wait until I tell Judy!"
     "Thanks, Francine," I whispered. At that moment, my resolve to validate my point grew stronger than ever, because I realized that I had just experienced a fraction of the pain that Judy suffered each day, and wanted no one to ever feel like that again.

How You Dress It Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 4

Hello all! Here is a segment of this series that is a little longer than before. It's my gift to you, but also I lengthened it a bit because I'm going to be in and out for the next couple of weeks, and wanted to get something concrete in. This installment is more buildup (which I apologize for if some of you are getting bored), but there are a lot of themes and sub-plots that I want to set up now so that they will make sense later. Hope you enjoy it anyways!

How You Dress It Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 4

It was strange getting up almost an hour earlier than normal to get ready for school, but considering the extensive work it would take to perfect our looks, I was totally okay with it. I had selected a simple blue dress with straps and a pair of matching flats (Dad said it would have been nearly impossible in heels our first day); Frank had gone with a pushup bra, a navy tube top, and matching skirt and sandals; and Mark was surprisingly non-conservative with a strapless, black and white striped dress that cut off way before his knees, as well as some flats. After securing our wigs with bobby pins, Dad set to work with our makeup, one at a time, and did a fantastic job. Frank was so pleased that he didn't even question where Dad acquired his talent, much to our father's relief.

     "Okay, boys...oh should I say girls?" said my father, smiling at his new 'daughters'. "Get together - I want to take a picture to commemorate your courageous stand." We all stood together, posing for the camera, and let Dad take the shot. "Thanks, you three," he said, then turned away. I could see that he had tears in his eyes.

     Afterwards, we all piled into our car, as usual, but in very unusual circumstances. Dad dropped us out front of the building, and Frank leaped out of the car joyfully, bounding into school with his usual exuberance. Mark, after seeing that there was no pandemonium caused by the appearance of some strange new girl on campus, slowly exited the car next. I was about to leave too, when Dad grabbed me. "Hang on one sec, Erik." I stopped, and turned to my father, who had that same glistening look in his eyes. "There's a lot of things I want to say to you right now," he said tearfully. "What you're doing both scares me and makes me extremely proud. But whatever the result, don't let this experience corrupt you. I'm worried that you're doing what you're doing because of me and who I am, but I don't want you to put your head on the line for something that I've tried to give up for years. Its an enchanting thing in our family, and I don't want you to be a part of the cycle that I've gone through."

     I was baffled by the sudden outburst of emotion. I had almost completely forgot about how personal this struggle was for my father, to see us doing the exact thing that he gave up. But how could something like this corrupt us? "Dad," I answered gently. "I was aware of how personal this issue was to our family. But this is about Judy more than anything else. Bullying of transgender, gay, crossdressing, or other alternative kids is unacceptable, and the best way I can see to stopping this abuse is by making the alternative a natural expectation. I hope that people can step into other people's heels for a minute and realize that there is nothing wrong, nothing corrupting about crossdressing. Besides," I said, smiling as I got out of the car. "I could never dream of being you, because I could never have been as fabulous as I remember seeing you long ago!"

     With that, I left for class, leaving my father with a small smile on his face that seemed to be equal parts pleasure and sadness.

I managed to slip into my usual desk without flashing anyone just before the bell, and attendance was called out by my first period teacher, Mrs. Paul.

     "Susan?"               "Here!"

     "Jackson?"            "Present!"

     "Owen?"               "Here!"

     "Erik?"

     "Here!" I called out, raising my hand. "But call me Erika, please." There were some snickers from the crowd. "You look a little different today, Erika," Mrs. Paul said, peering over her glasses at me. "New outfit," I replied to a ripple of laughter. Mrs. Paul smiled slightly, and went on recording attendance. The rest of the period ran rather smoothly - sure, there were plenty of whispers, but nothing that I didn't expect. I even had a girl complement me on my dress when I walked out of class. In the halls, I passed by Matt, who strode by without even a second glance. I rode my wave of success all the way through to lunch, were I regrouped with my 'sisters' to talk about the day.

     "How's it been going?" I asked, well aware of the plethora of disgusted, amused, and curious stares from kids around me.

     Mark shrugged. "Fine, I guess. Didn't really know what to expect. I didn't get a lot of attention - I don't normally talk in class - but I definitely heard some guys talking about me in class. Brett and his friends...they didn't take to kindly to my attire. But no physical harm..."

     "Wow, we've been lucky then!" Frank said happily. "Judy was kind of shocked when I showed up like this, and I had a couple people come up to us and ask if we were gay, but they haven't laid a finger on us all day! Must think we have cooties or something..."

     "...or something..." said an angry voice behind me. I turned, and saw Matt towering over me. "What the hell, Erik?" he seethed, visibly angry. "I knew you weren't against this kind of freakish display when Judy moved in, but I NEVER thought I would see the day when you were in a goddamn dress!"

     "Is there a problem, Matt?" I asked innocently. "And please, call me Erika," I continued, fluttering my eyelashes at him. That really set him off. "ERIKA?" he practically screamed. "WHERE THE HELL IS MY BEST FRIEND?"

     "I'm right here, Matt," I replied bravely. "Always have been. What I have been wanting to know is how the hell my friend could have given Judy so much flack. She's a genuinely good person...just with a different perspective on dressing than you and I. Now me and my brothers are trying out this perspective to show you and everyone else that normal people crossdress. Why don't you try it with us?"

     "Are you kidding me?" he shrieked, his eyes suddenly fearful. "If you thing that I'm going to even touch a dress like some sissy queer, then you've gone crazier than you look right now."

     "Really? Because I'm pretty sure you walked by me today without even noticing me..."

     He blushed angrily at that statement. "Oh, I noticed...I just couldn't believe that my macho best friend would be caught dead in a dress."

     "It's just a dress...what's the big deal? I'm still me. It's just like we're trying to prove - it's nothing to make a fuss about..."

     "Oh, it is definitely something to make a fuss about," Matt glowered, staring daggers into my madeup eyes. "A fuss that I will continue to make, as long as you continue to put up this charade and try to corrupt other normal boys. So I'm only going to ask you once: are you Erik my friend, or Erika the crossdressing nancy boy?"

     "You know who I really am," I said, trying not to show any emotion. "But until I prove this point, I'm Erika."

     "Then Erik is dead to me. As are his 'brothers'," he said, tossing a glance over at Mark and Frank. With that, my best friend of 17 years stalked off, and it took all of my willpower not to cry in frustration and sadness. Frank immediately embraced me in a hug. "You were so brave standing up to Matt," he said consolingly. "Wait until I tell Judy!"

     "Thanks, Francine," I whispered. At that moment, my resolve to validate my point grew stronger than ever, because I realized that I had just experienced a fraction of the pain that Judy suffered each day, and wanted no one to ever feel like that again.

How You Dress it Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 3

Here is the next installment of this story, where we finally learn of Erik's plan. I'm realizing as I continue to write that the plan may seem a little simple or unbelievable, but bear with me, because it gets more understandable as I continue to flesh out details. Enjoy!

How You Dress it Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 3

I had decided at that point that I was going to make crossdressing acceptable by going to school all dolled up, and hopefully with the support of my brothers I could make it seem normal to be someone like Judy. I ran home after school and darted up into the attic: to my satisfaction, everything was exactly where I expected it to be, Dad's old wigs, dresses, and assorted makeup were stashed in a trunk behind the vanity mirror. I began rummaging through the wigs first, tossing aside ones with holes or hairstyles that would look ridiculous on a teenage girl, and eventually began to sort out some of my favorites by color. I finally decided that I wanted to be a blonde and selected a beautiful honey colored wig when Mark walked in behind me. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

     "We're going to be girls for a week. Here, try this on," I said as I chucked him a brunette wig similar to mine.

     "Why?" he asked, neither angry nor fully supportive.

     "Because," I replied, as I adjusted my wig on my head. "That poor Judy is absolutely shunned in school, Frank is friends with her, and of all the people to be supportive of crossdressing in this town, it should be our family."

     "True..." Mark said softly. He looked down at the wig in his hands thoughtfully, then slowly put it on. "You know that Matt is going to hate you for this, right?" he said as he began to look through some assorted dresses with me. "I know. But if we can convince enough people to do this, he'll have to realize how ridiculous he's being," I replied. "Now are you willing to help me?"

     He looked down at the wig in his hands thoughtfully for a minute, then slowly slid it over his own hair. "I'm not as passionate about angering my friends as you seem to be," he said matter-of-factly. "But I do feel that our family has to do something in support of the Phillips, and this seems oddly appropriate, considering our father's history."

     "I'll worry about dealing with Matt," I replied with a smile. "Right now we just need to worry about looking like viable girls for tomorrow."

With that, Mark and I began a thorough search of Dad's old clothes, trying on different dresses, heels, skirts, tops, and bras to see what fit and what looked good. We were so busy modeling and evaluating outfits that we didn't hear our father come up the stairs to the attic. "Hey boys!" he called out as he jogged up the stairs. "What are you doing up in the att-"

     He froze as he glanced at us, all decked out in heels, minidresses, and our wigs. "Dad," I said, spinning around wobbly in my heels. "We need to talk."

     We sat down and discussed my plan to draw attention to the harmlessness of crossdressing by indoctrinating any and all guys at St. Elmo's to support Judy Phillips. "So what do you think?" I asked. "You look a little dazed"

     "I just didn't think I'd see the day when my boys would pick up my old habits..." Dad said with a small smile.

     "Sometimes, the only way to get someone's attention is by shocking them," Mark said. "It worked on you - hopefully we can get the same results at school."

     "Also, we we're wondering if you would teach us how to do our makeup tomorrow morning?" I asked. "Mark, Frank, and I could definitely use some expert advice..."

     Dad's eyes lit up. "I would love to!" He then suddenly sobered up. "But do we have to tell Frank?" he asked pleadingly. "I still don't want him to think that crossdressing is the reason why your mother and I broke up..."

     "You could say that you learned how to do makeup when you helped out at the annual school play for all these years," Mark responded. "Frank is trusting enough to believe that."

     "Alright," Dad answered. "But that means that you 'girls' will have to get up earlier in the morning to get ready."

     "No problem! Thanks for being so understanding," I said, hugging my dad. "Now you should let us get ready - we want to have some time alone with Frank to discuss our plan."

Dad left, and we finished picking out our outfits for the next day and waited for Frank. Right at 6 o'clock he came bounding up the stairs. He took one look at us in our new feminine attire and broke into a huge grin. "You guys look like Judy!" he giggled.

     "That would be a compliment, considering how lovely she looks," I said. "But we need to talk seriously for a moment, because we're dressed 'like Judy' for a reason."

     It wasn't hard to explain to Frank our reason for crossdressing, considering he had experienced Judy's pain up close as her friend. He eagerly took to the clothes we had set out for him, and tried out a few wigs before selecting a brown wig with a hint of auburn color in it. After we were all dressed fully, we sat down to discuss our plans for the next day. "I do not want to force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with," I told both of my brothers. "Because it is quite likely that we will be mocked, bullied, or otherwise tormented much like Judy. In fact, we may not be successful at all in our attempts to convert the boys in our school to dress like us. But I intend to be in full female mode for the next month and will try to get other guys to do the same. So from now on, call me Erika."

     "Ooooh! I want to be called Francine!" exclaimed Frank. "What's your name going to be, Mark?"

     "I don't know...I guess Marcella has a nice ring to it," Mark said. "But how are we planning on convincing anyone at our school to do what we're doing?"

     "Well, first, its important to get people sympathetic to our cause," I said, thinking out loud more than anything. "Then, hopefully it will snowball as we get a bigger and bigger following."

     "We should talk to Claire Van Dyke!" chipped in Frank eagerly. "I'd bet she'd help!"

     "Let's just try and get through tomorrow alive," cautioned Mark pragmatically. "Then we'll see if Claire can help us in any way..."

     "Agreed. Let's worry about looking passable for tomorrow," I smiled, knowing that with Dad's makeup help, Erika, Francine, and Marcella were sure to turn some heads the following day.

How You Dress it Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 2

To hold you over until I upload the final caption for the Thank You to Followers Week, here is the next installment of this new story. It follows directly after Part 1 and should be read as such. Enjoy!

How You Dress it Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 2

The news spread like wildfire through our little town. Reports that the Phillips had been forced to move out of their old city due to similar "issues" arose, and John Phillips took the week off, while Darlene remained inside their house as well. But poor little Judy...or whoever she really was...had to endure her first week of school. She was picked on by more than a few kids in school, including Matt. The teachers didn't really know what to do with her - the gym teacher, Mr. Bunyan, didn't know whether 'she' was a he who should change in the guys' dressing room, or whether she was really a girl, or even if 'she' was a he then he should change in the girls room because he acted like a she. Matt and his sophomore cousin Brett made the decision easy by refusing to admit her entrance to the boys room.

I felt really bad for Judy. Frank had reported that she started crying at least twice a day in classes, and on Friday had decided to go home early to avoid the torment. I was extremely shocked when I first figured it out Judy's secret, but I don't think anyone should have to suffer the kind of verbal abuse that she received that first week. But I suppose I had a unique relationship with crossdressers...

You see, my father was once a chronic crossdresser. He managed to keep it a secret from me most of my life, but at the age of 12 I discovered my mother and a tall, brunette woman having a heated argument in my parent's bedroom. And so I had my first conversation with my father, all dolled up in makeup, a wig, and a dress, about his fetish. He promised to stop, because Mom really seemed to dislike it. But about three months later, Mark and I discovered a large, secret stash of wigs and dresses deep in the attic, and we knew he hadn't given up his favorite pastime. We both were of the opinion that this was the reason why Mom left, but Dad said there were other factors too. He made a deal with us: "If you don't tell you're brother about my little secret or talk about your mother leaving," he said, fearful of repudiation by our younger, innocent 8 year old brother, "I promise to stop and be the best father you boys can ask for." We agreed, and Dad was true to his word - although he never could bring himself to getting rid of his stashes in the attic, he never once brought the box down into the rest of the house, and Frank never knew of Dad's more feminine side. Mom wasn't mentioned much after that, and it didn't matter because Dad was the best parent anyone could ask for.

For not knowing how close he was to a crossdresser, Frank had a large feeling of empathy for Judy. Saturday afternoon, he marched right up to the Phillips door (the first person in a week to do so) and asked if he could see Judy. To everyone surprise, he was not turned away, and actually spent the night at their house. He came home Sunday night, just as happy and bubbly as ever. "I think I found a new friend!" he exclaimed happily. Indeed, for the entirety of the second week of school, Frank and Judy could be side-by-side, always alone, but always together. Even when we got home, he couldn't stop talking about her. "She really just shy," he said one day, like there was no reason for her isolation. "Is she...actually a she?" I asked him out of curiosity. "I don't think so...but she's never out of a dress so I can't tell," he responded cheerfully, like it was no big deal. I was extremely proud of my brother at that moment - he was even more mature than me!

But although I was impressed with Frank, others weren't so keen on his interaction with Judy. Mrs. Sanders avoided him like the plague, and Mark had heard our father having long, heated conversations over the phone over what we assumed was Frank. Finally, one day in school, Matt confronted me. "Dude, why the hell has your brother been hanging out with...'her'?" he sneered, gesturing in the direction of where Frank and Judy were standing.

     "What's the big deal?" I asked. "So she's a little different...has she ever harmed you?"

     "It not about what she's doing now, it's what she's promoting in the future," he replied with disgust. "All it takes is one guy to dress like a girl, and everyone thinks its acceptable - its not! Like my grandpa says all the time, all it takes is someone to start an unnatural trend, and pretty soon the youth of this town - our generation - will be corrupted by such non-natural activities."

     I said nothing. "Fine," Matt muttered. "Stay passive. I for one am not going to let our town go to hell in a handbasket. So tell you're brother to leave "Judy" alone. I'll see you around."

He stalked off, managing to give Frank a hard shove on his way out. I stood there, upset by my friends words. How could he be so ignorant? Well if he's worried about unnatural activities, I thought to myself. I suppose we'll just have to make it a natural trend. As the bell rang for the end of school, I grabbed Frank by the wrist. "Be home by six o'clock sharp," I said. "Ow! Why so soon? I was going to go over to Judy's house..." he complained. "We're going to make our town go to heaven with a handbag," I replied mysteriously. "Just be on time."

How You Dress it Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story), Part 1

Hello all! First, I just wanted to say thank you to all of the wonderful people who have left kind messages in support of me and my recent captions. I really do appreciate your comments. Today, in light of an advancement of a new story I have written, I am going to start posting little chunks of the story (in order) over an extended period of time. This allows me to get work out quicker and test the waters to see if people like where I am taking the story.

So this story is based around a family of three boys in a small town called New Haven. The main character and narrator, Erik, discusses the inclusion of a unique family, the Phillips, into their town. The perspective of each person in the town on the new family seems divided, but Erik has a plan to make things right. If you like what you are reading, please let me know! I'll keep posting in smaller parts unless I hear strong disapproval.

How You Dress It Up: A Matter of Perspective (Erik's Story) Part 1

It all started when the Phillips moved to New Haven. It was late in August, only about two weeks before school was about to start, and I was mostly worried about surviving senior year. If only I knew what was in store for that year...

The Phillips moved in quietly across the street. John Phillips was to be working as a deputy to the sheriff, and came over to introduce himself and his family the next day to get acquainted with the folks around New Haven. His wife, Darlene, was a shy, quiet woman who earned some extra cash as a seamstress. Their daughter, however, was a bit of an enigma. Judy was her name, but no one saw much of her during the initial move; only a glimpse of a blond head in the window or the occasional sighting of her going to the mailbox was proof that she actually existed. My younger brother Frank was disappointed; he had heard that she was a incoming freshman like him, and was hoping to find someone to be his friend at St. Elmo's in the first few weeks.

Our curiosity over Judy grew as more details began to emerge about the Phillips. Old Man Rankel, the grandfather of my best friend Matt, swore that he saw two men in the Phillips' home one day, even though no one ever saw anyone besides John and Darlene come in and out of the house. Mrs. Sanders, the biggest gossip on our street, disagreed: she had sworn that she had seen two women and a girl sitting at the dinner table one evening. I even heard the mailman talking with my father one day about how he had delivered a package of wigs to the Phillips' house over Labor Day Weekend. It was all very strange.

The day before school was back in session, Matt, my brothers Frank and Mark, and I were all sitting in our lawn, mulling over the horror that was school, when we saw Judy for the first time out in public! She was walking down towards the middle of town in what appeared to be VERY large clothing for a girl her age. "Let's follow her!" whispered Matt. Intrigued, the four of us began hopping fences to inconspicuously follow her on her path into town. To our disappointment, she was only walking into her father's small side-room attached to the sheriff's office. "Aw, she's still as boring as we thought," moaned Frank. "Let's go get some ice cream, you guys."

     "You go," muttered Matt. "I'm going to see what she's doing..."

     "Suit yourself," said Frank. "Hey Erik," he said turning to me. "Will you buy me an ice cream cone? I'm all out of money..."

     "Of course," I sighed. "Let's go."

Frank, Mark, and I left for the dollar store down the block while Matt walked up to the window of Mr. Phillips' room. After paying for our ice creams, we came back five minutes later to find Matt running towards us, white as a sheet. 'GUYS GUYS GUYS!" he yelled, short of breath. "You're not going to believe..."

Before he could finish, a bell clanged as the door to Mr. Phillips' office came open. We all turned around to look, and were surprised to see a young, brown haired boy led out of the room by a tall, redheaded woman. "Oh my god," I said softly. "That woman is wearing the exact same outfit that Judy was wearing..." We all stood, mouths agape, as the two people walked back down the street in the direction of our neighborhood. "Wait a second," said Frank, confused. "I thought that no one else went in there..."

     "You're right, Frank," said Mark, who had gathered what Matt and I had figured out. "The exact same people that were in there came out."

     "So what does that mean?" asked Frank, innocently unaware.

     "It means," glowered Matt. "That we have some crossdressers in town."

END PART ONE