Chances Are Omnibus (Gender Swap Fiction)

by P. T. Dilloway

  “I went pee-pee. On the bed.”

  “Oh.” So it was Maddy responsible for that stain on the sheets. “That’s not so bad.”

  “Is too. Only babies wet the bed.”

  “It was just an accident. No one will be mad.”

  “I’m mad.” Maddy finally turns so I can see her face. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. How long has she been here in the corner? “I’m just a stupid baby.”

  “No you’re not. You’re still a grown-up inside.”

  “Grown-ups don’t pee-pee in bed.”

  “Sometimes they do.”

  “Not normal ones. I never did.”

  “Come on, it’s no big deal. The first night I was in this room I got blood all over the sheets.”

  “Blood?”

  “From my period. It was really nasty. I didn’t even know about tampons or anything. You know, because of my parents.”

  Maddy stares at me. “You’re lying.”

  “I am not! Ask Tess when she wakes up. She was there. She cleaned it up.”

  “But you were a grown-up when you came here.”

  “I know. I had a little accident. That’s all.” Of course I was even more freaked out about it than Maddy was about wetting the bed. Since then it’s become a funny story: the eighteen-year-old girl with her first period.

  I reach beneath the blanket to touch Maddy’s hair. “When Tess wakes up, we’ll explain and clean it up. She won’t be mad. I promise.”

  “OK.”

  “Now, how about I go get a towel and you can go back to sleep?”

  “I guess.”

  I pad down the hallway so I don’t make any noise. Tess is a light sleeper, even lighter since I’m sure she’ll listen for any sign of distress. I creep into the bathroom and find a beach towel. Debbie used to do this the last time Maddy was a toddler. Like the thumb sucking she eventually grew out of wetting her bed. I hope it’s just because of all the stress from the previous night, not something that will continue.

  I make it back to the bedroom; Tess doesn’t wake up. I spread the towel down over the wet stain on the bed. Maddy climbs up onto the bed and plops down onto the towel. Before long she’s asleep again, thumb planted in her mouth. I watch her for a few minutes before I take off my glasses. There are tears in my eyes before I fall back to sleep.

  ***

  The next time I wake up it’s almost noon. When someone touches my shoulder, I think it must be Qiang to take more blood from me. “No more tests,” I mumble.

  “I’m not going to test you, dear,” Tess says.

  I wake up and see a peach-and-gray blob. Tess presses my glasses into my hands. I put them on and most everything comes into focus. I blink a few times, still not entirely used to the glasses. “Hi. Sorry about that. Thought you were someone else.”

  “No one’s going to hurt you now. You’re safe.”

  “I know.”

  I turn and see Maddy is already gone. The towel is still there. “Maddy—”

  “She told me. Poor little dear was all broken up about it.”

  “It is a big adjustment.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s good she has a big sister like you to help her through it.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I say. But who will help me get through it?

  Tess gives me a hand to help me out of bed. I see a pile of clothes on the vanity. “I fetched some of Jennifer’s old things from the attic. I hope they’ll fit you until we can buy you some new clothes.”

  “I hope so.”

  She leaves me alone so I can change. In some strange coincidence, Tess has picked out a pastel yellow T-shirt. There’s a picture of the Grand Canyon at sunset on it, probably from a trip the Madigan family took years ago. The shirt is a little snug over my tummy, but it’ll do. The blue jeans are a couple sizes too big; the legs droop down past my feet. I have to wear the same underwear and socks; Tess’s pack rat mentality didn’t extend that far.

  I pick up the brush that still has some of my red hairs in it. I start to run it through my black tresses and note how much thicker they are. Longer too. I look for something to tie my hair back with. I see a white plastic headband. I brush my hair back from my face and then put on the headband. It looks appropriate for a little girl like me.

  Tess waits for me outside. “You look very pretty, dear. I like what you did with your hair.”

  “Thanks. Can we get it cut soon? It’s so long.”

  “Certainly. After you go see the doctor. And after lunch.”

  Jake shows up as we finish our lunch. “Hurry up, kids. We’ve got to meet Dr. Palmer in an hour.”

  “Where?”

  “At St. Vincent’s.”

  “Not Lennox?”

  “We thought that would be more discreet.” Jake puts some emphasis on the last word. I know what he’s thinking: Dr. Ling had a mole at Lennox. Until we know who that was, it would be best to stay away from there.

  We take the station wagon this time. There’s a booster seat in the center of the backseat. “I found that in the garage,” Tess says. “I think it would be best, Madison—”

  “But car seats are for babies.”

  “I know, but it’s the law. All little girls have to use a booster seat.”

  “Why doesn’t Stacey?”

  “Because she’s not as little, dear. When you get to be as big as Stacey, you won’t need one either.”

  “It’s not fair,” Maddy says. Her face turns red as if she’s ready to throw a tantrum.

  “It’s only for a little while,” I say. “Until you’re grown up again.”

  She looks at the seat and then back at me. “OK.”

  Tess helps her buckle in. I manage my own safety belt and note how much less belt I need now. Maddy looks miserable on the plastic seat; her rear spills over its sides. I pat her on the back. “You’re such a brave girl,” I tell her.

  “Thanks.”

  Tess gets into the passenger seat and then we’re on our way.

  ***

  Dr. Palmer meets us in the main lobby. Just like Jake and Tess, she goes pale when she sees us. She puts a hand to her mouth, probably to silence whatever curse words she was about to say. Then she squats down so she’s eye-level with us. “Hello, Madison. Hello, Stacey.” She touches each of us on the head as she says our names. “You’re looking very pretty.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I grumble.

  “It really is you,” Dr. Palmer says. “And you still remember who you are?”

  “Yes.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Ten.”

  “No, I mean how old are you really?”

  “Eighteen-point-seven.”

  “That’s pretty exact.”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  Dr. Palmer turns to Maddy. “And how old are you, Madison?”

  “Twenty-three. Or I was. Now I’m five.”

  “Yes you are.”

  “And you can make me grown up again?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

  She takes us to an elevator, which deposits us on the third floor. From the pastel wallpaper with borders of cartoon animals, I know this is the pediatrics wing. Much as I hate it, I know it makes sense. We’ll be a lot less obvious here than in the oncology or burn wards.

  There’s an empty room already set up for us. I use a stool to climb onto the exam table. Jake lifts Maddy up to sit next to me; he ignores her protests that she can do it herself. I pat Maddy’s back to reassure her everything will be all right.

  But the moment she sees Dr. Palmer with a syringe, she begins to shriek. “Stay away from me! Don’t touch me with that!”

  I put my arm around Maddy and pull her close. “It’s all right, Maddy. The doctor needs to take some blood so she can study it. So she can make us better.”

  “He needed our blood too,” Maddy says. She presses her face into my T-shirt. “She’s going to make us littler.”

  “Dr. Palmer wouldn’t do that. She’s a
nice lady,” I say.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because she’s my doctor.”

  “She is?”

  “I’ve been seeing her since I was this age—the first time.”

  “You have?”

  Dr. Palmer jumps in to say, “That’s right, sweetheart. Stacey is a good friend of mine. She’s my most favorite patient in the whole world.”

  “And you’re not going to make us littler?”

  “No, of course not. I promise. I just need some blood samples so I can find out what that evil man did to you. That will help me find a way to make you better.”

  “Well…OK.” Maddy still holds my hand and looks away as Dr. Palmer takes her blood. Despite how many times I’ve had my blood drawn in the last couple of months, I feel a nervous flutter in my belly at the sight of the needle. When Dr. Palmer pulls out the needle, she puts a Snoopy Band-Aid over the hole. I try to tell myself that’s all they have in the pediatric wing.

  Once she has the samples, Dr. Palmer sits down in a chair. She pats Maddy’s knee. “I don’t want you to expect any miracles. It could take a while to find a way to change you back. But I promise I’ll do everything I can for you two.”

  “What do we do until then? I don’t wanna be a baby anymore.”

  “You’ll just have to make do the best you can, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I wish I could wave a magic wand to make you better, but I can’t. It’s going to take a lot of hard work.”

  “OK.”

  “I should have some preliminary results in a couple of days. In the meantime, don’t do anything foolish. Try to live as normal as you can.”

  “We’ll try,” I say. I know all too well how hard it is to find a way to reverse FY-1978. I only hope this time Dr. Palmer has more luck with it.

  ***

  Dr. Palmer tries to make an excuse to get Maddy out of the room. “I want to catch up a little with my favorite patient,” she says. I could kill her when she tousles my hair as she says it. In part because it’s demeaning, but also because Maddy sniffs out there’s something going on.

  “What are you going to talk about?” Maddy asks.

  “Some boring stuff.”

  “Then why can’t I stay?”

  Tess comes to our rescue. She puts an arm around Maddy’s shoulder. “How about we go down to the cafeteria and buy you some ice cream?”

  Maddy looks at me and then at Tess. “OK. As long as you aren’t talking about anything important.”

  “I promise it’s dull as dirt,” Dr. Palmer says.

  We wait a couple of minutes to make sure Tess and Maddy are gone. Then Dr. Palmer says, “OK, young lady, tell me the rest of it.”

  So I tell her most everything that happened since I woke up in Dr. Ling’s makeshift prison. It’s good Jake is there, so I won’t have to tell him all of this again later. Dr. Palmer stops me a couple of times, to ask me about the equipment I saw. “This ‘meat thermometer’ you mentioned, that’s what told him your age?”

  “Yes. He says it measures cellular decay. Like counting tree rings.”

  “That’s a simplistic way of putting it, but it’s more or less true. Keep going.”

  I tell her all about what the first batch of serum did to Maddy. Then about what the second batch did to me. “He put all these diodes on me to check for interaction between his formula and Dr. Nath’s.”

  “Was there anything?”

  “No. But he was disappointed with the results. He didn’t want me to get so young.”

  “So maybe there was a reaction. His formula could have reacted with the stuff already in your blood and sent it into overdrive.”

  “He was going to take us back to China. Qiang says he was going to dissect us after he learned everything he could.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” Dr. Palmer sighs. “We’ve dealt with Ling Pharmaceuticals before. They’re real sons of bitches, as you can see. And the regulations over there are a joke. That lets them get away with all this mad scientist bullshit.”

  “At least he got what was coming to him,” I say.

  “I will have to give you and Maddy both a proper physical. We have to see what all that shit he gave you did. I mean, you look like a normal ten-year-old on the outside, but we don’t have any idea what’s going on inside.”

  “He already did some tests on both of us.”

  “Well, since your friend blew up his lab, there’s no way I can get a copy of those results.” She looks up at Jake. “I’ll set it up and then give you a call. We’ll run everything out of here for the time being. Did Ling say how he knew about our formula?”

  “No. He probably has someone working on the inside. You know how money can make people do things,” I say. I glance at Jake.

  “In the meantime, I’d suggest getting a proper eye exam. You’ll probably need some real glasses made for you specifically, not some dead woman’s daughter.”

  Jake claps me on the shoulder. “Looks like we got a full day ahead.”

  “The fun never stops.”

  I’m about to hop off the table, but Dr. Palmer puts a hand on my knee to stop me. “We need to talk about Madison.”

  “What about her?”

  “I think you know what I’m talking about.”

  “No. I don’t.”

  Dr. Palmer sighs. I make a lot of people do that. “I’m talking about mental regression. You’ve seen the signs. The way she whines. Throwing tantrums when she doesn’t get her way. How she clings to Stacey, who is for all practical purposes her big sister. Coloring with crayons. Playing with dolls.”

  “Wetting the bed,” Jake adds.

  “She’s sucking her thumb too when she sleeps,” I say. “So what? She’s been through a lot in the last couple of months.”

  “Exactly. Her mind has been traumatized by all of this. She doesn’t know how to handle it, so she’s reverting back to her five-year-old self.”

  “What are we supposed to do about it?”

  “We should bring Dr. Macintosh in on this. He has experience working with traumatized children. He could help her deal with it.” Dr. Palmer pats my knee. “It wouldn’t be such a bad idea for you to see him again either. He’s been calling me every day to ask about you.”

  “He has?”

  “Well I can’t blame him the way you ran out of that bar.”

  “You were there?”

  “No, but I’ve heard about it. What happened?”

  “I had some stage fright.”

  “Right. Anyway, I’m not as concerned about your mind. You’ve already been through a few traumas.”

  “And you’re too damned stubborn to become a sweet little kid,” Jake adds.

  “That too. The point is, Madison doesn’t have that experience. She needs some help to sort everything out. Otherwise she’s going to keep regressing until there’s nothing of the adult Madison left.”

  I can’t argue with that; I’ve already seen the symptoms myself. “What are you going to tell him?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to tell him everything.”

  “Everything? Even about me being…you know?”

  “Oh.” Dr. Palmer tilts my chin up to look me in the eye. “I’m sorry, Stacey, but I think he needs to know the whole truth if he’s going to help you and Maddy.”

  “But why? Who I was before doesn’t have anything to do with Dr. Ling.”

  “If he’s going to help us then he needs to know the truth.”

  I remember the way he eyed me, the same way as those drunk boys at the bar. What will he think when he finds out I was born a man? “I don’t wanna tell him.”

  “Why not? Stacey, what’s wrong?”

  “He’ll think I’m a freak.”

  “He won’t. Dr. Macintosh is a doctor, like me.”

  “He’ll hate me for lying.”

  “He’s not going to judge you.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “Trust me, Stacey. Please?”

  I look her in the eye and see how serious she is about this. �
�All right, you can tell him.”

  “Thank you. That’s very grown up of you.”

  “Can we go? Maddy’s probably finished her ice cream by now.”

  “Sure, you can go.” She pats the roll of fat that bulges over my pants. “You both could use to lay off the sweets, especially Madison. I don’t want either of you developing diabetes. You’ve dealt with enough needles already.”

  “I’ll try to keep my girlish figure,” I grumble.

  Chapter 18

  We separate at the eye doctor. Tess takes Maddy home for a nap while Jake and I stay there. We’ll have to get a cab to take us back, unless Jake wants to try to take me on the train.

  “Can’t I go with them?” Maddy asks with a five-year-old’s whine.

  “No, dear. You need to get some rest. You’ve had a busy day.”

  “Have not.”

  “It’s for the best, dear.”

  “Trust me, it’s not going to be any fun,” I say. “It’ll be as bad as all those tests Dr. Ling ran on us.”

  That prompts Maddy to shiver. “I don’t want to go then.”

  With that, Tess drives off; Jake and I are alone again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with these,” I say. “They aren’t so bad.”

  “Palmer’s right: you need glasses made for your eyes. I don’t want you going blind because you insist on wearing these ugly old things.”

  “They’re not ugly. I like them.”

  “You look like the Chinese Sally Jesse Raphael.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m not ten years old or I’d have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Stop being such a baby and go in the damned store.”

  Jake holds the door open so I can slip inside. It looks more like a car dealer than an eye doctor. There are rows of glasses all along the walls. Sales reps in gray polo shirts chat with other customers, to help them try on glasses.

  Jake puts a hand on my back to steer me past the rows of glasses. A saleswoman spots us and then heads our way. Her forced smile gives me the urge to cling to Jake’s leg the way Maddy used to do to mine when she got scared. She bends down to focus on me. I whimper out of fear at the way she looms over me. “I bet you’re here to get some new glasses, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I mumble.