“A bath?” Maddy repeats. Her voice trembles. “Can’t I take a shower?”
“I’m afraid you’re too little for that.”
“But—”
“No buts, young lady. Both of you march into the bathroom right now.”
“Both of us?” I ask.
“You’re not too big to take a bath with your little sister, are you?” Tess asks. She gives me a look to encourage me. I know what she wants from me, to set a good example for Madison.
“No, I’m not,” I say. I hold out my hand to Maddy. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Maddy looks at Tess and then at me. “OK,” she says.
I lead her down to the main bathroom. I hope Tess doesn’t mind that I turn on the faucets to start filling the tub. She should know I have better sense than to let Maddy drown.
By the time I’m down to my underpants, Maddy still hasn’t taken off so much as a sock. “Do you need help?” I ask.
“I don’t want to,” she says.
“Why not?”
“It’s creepy.”
She’s got me there. Still, Tess is right that Maddy isn’t big enough to use the shower. We can’t trust her to bathe on her own either. This is for the best. Before I say anything, I remind myself I’ve talked criminals out of killing hostages; I should be able to handle this. “It’s not so weird,” I say. “You’ve seen girls naked before.”
“But not you.”
“How about you keep your eyes closed and I’ll get in the water and then I’ll close my eyes and you can get in the tub?”
“OK,” Maddy says. “But you promise not to peek?”
“I promise.” Maddy closes her eyes while I undress the rest of the way. Then I step into the back of the tub. I sink down in the warm water, to let it cover me. With my eyes closed, I say, “Your turn.”
“I’m so fat,” Maddy says. “It’s gross.”
“It’s fine. You just haven’t grown into your body yet.”
“Maybe I never will.” I hear her splash down in front of me. “You can look now.”
Tess interrupts us. She kneels down beside the tub with a plastic bowl. “Who wants to go first? Stacey?”
“Sure,” I say. That way Maddy will see it’s not so bad. I close my eyes and let Tess pour the bowl of water over my head. I haven’t had a bath like this in a good forty-two years. Back then it was my grandma who did it. I remember how long her fingernails were, how it felt like she would rip out all the hair on my head.
Tess is far gentler. It’s more like a massage when she works the shampoo into my wet hair. I keep my eyes squeezed shut; I don’t want to get anything into my already-bad eyes. She rinses my hair and then puts in some conditioner. After another rinse, Tess says, “You can open your eyes, dear.”
I blink a few times. Maddy faces me to watch my reaction. I smile at her. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No,” Maddy says.
“Now it’s your turn, sweetheart,” Tess says. “Keep your eyes shut very tight.”
“OK.”
For once Maddy cooperates. She whimpers a little as Tess works in the shampoo, but she doesn’t make a fuss. That’s progress as far as I’m concerned. After Tess rinses the conditioner out, I pat Maddy on the back. “Good job.”
The next step is to clean the rest of us. Tess rubs a bar of soap across my back and chest hard enough to scrape a couple layers of skin off. She even scrubs at my cheeks and of course behind my ears. There is one area she won’t do. She blushes a little and then hands the soap to me. “I think you’d better handle the rest, dear.”
“Sure,” I say. I’m not as thorough on my lower half as Tess was on the upper half. In the last year I’ve gotten used to washing my girlish parts, but not with an audience. After a few token swipes with the soap, I hand it back to Tess. “All done.”
“Thank you, dear.”
She goes through the same routine with Maddy. Before she hands over the soap, Tess looks Maddy in the eye. “Can you handle this very big girl job?” she asks.
“Yes. I’m not a baby.”
“Very good.”
Despite what she says, Maddy is as half-hearted about it as I am. That will take time. For today, we’re finished. Tess holds up a towel. “Up you go, sweetheart.” I turn away as Maddy stands up. Tess is quick to wrap the towel around Maddy. She gives Maddy a quick hug. “You were very brave, dear.”
“Thanks.”
It’s my turn then to get out of the tub. Tess wraps the towel around me, to let me dry myself off. We keep the towels around our bodies as Tess picks up a comb to work the tangles out of our hair.
This is the one time when Maddy is much better behaved than I am. Her hair isn’t as long and thus not as snarled. Tess needs only a few strokes before Maddy’s hair is smooth as black silk.
Mine requires a lot more effort. Tess has me sit down on the toilet to make it a little easier. Her first attempt to run the comb through gets a couple of inches before it snags. I cry out; it feels almost as bad as when Ling’s goon yanked me backwards by the hair. Though I want to set a good example for Maddy, I can’t keep tears out of my eyes as Tess continues to try to work the comb through my hair.
“Do you have to do it so hard?” I whine.
“I’m sorry, dear. We’re almost done.”
Someone takes my hand. Though I have my eyes closed tight, I know from the size of it that it’s Maddy’s hand. I squeeze it back to let her know I’m all right. It doesn’t feel like it though as Tess finishes up; my scalp feels like someone’s lit it on fire.
As I sniffle and wipe tears away, Tess pats my shoulder. “It’s all right, Stacey. We’re going to get it cut today so it won’t be so bad next time.”
“Thanks.”
Then, clean and well-coiffed, we head back to the bedroom to change.
***
Jake reads the paper in the dining room when we come downstairs. “Well, look at that. Are those my two little grandchildren?”
“Yes,” I say.
“I almost didn’t recognize you now that you’re not so grubby. And I didn’t even hear any screaming.”
“They were both very good,” Tess says. “Especially Madison.”
“It was just a bath,” Maddy says, though she smiles about her accomplishment.
Maddy and I sit down at the table while Tess makes us some pancakes. Jake’s already picked out the comics page to hand to Maddy. As she studies the comic strips, I see her mouth move as she works out some of the bigger words. I remember how unsteady her handwriting was too. Is that mental regression or something else? I should ask Dr. Palmer next time we see her. I hope that won’t be too long.
“So what’s on today’s agenda?” Jake asks.
“Tess is going to take us clothes shopping,” Maddy says. “And get Stacey a haircut.”
“She sure could use it,” Jake says. “That hair gets any longer and we’ll have to start calling you Cousin It.”
“It’s not that long,” I say.
“Here we go, girls,” Tess says. She brings in a plate stacked high with pancakes. “Dig in.”
Since she didn’t eat last night, Maddy tears into the pancakes ravenously. I’m a little more reserved, though Tess does make excellent pancakes.
While she works on her pancakes, Maddy asks, “Where are we going to go?” I see a worried look flicker across her face. If Tess takes us to the garment district, then we might run into Grace, not to mention other people Maddy knows from around the neighborhood.
“I was thinking over to the Wal-Mart. I need to pick up a few groceries too. I didn’t plan on cooking for two little girls, especially not one fussy eater.”
“I’m sorry,” Maddy says. “I didn’t mean to be bad.”
“It’s all right, dear. Think nothing of it.”
“Well, much as I’d love to accompany you three, I have to get to work. By now some of the forensics have come back from that school where he was keeping you.”
Tess clea
rs her throat. “I don’t think the girls need to hear about that.”
“I know.” Jake gives his wife a chaste kiss. Before he can leave, Maddy runs over to hug his leg.
“Bye-bye Grandpa Jake.”
My farewell to him is a lot more subdued. I wave and then turn back to my breakfast. I just hope those forensics from the school don’t show that Qiang is dead.
***
There’s a salon inside the Wal-Mart. Tess wheels us into it and then helps us out of the shopping cart. One of the stylists comes over and like the saleswoman at the eye doctor bends down with a phony smile. “I see two little girls who need a haircut,” she says
“Especially this one,” Tess says. She pats my head.
“I can see why. You’re starting to look like Rapunzel.”
“It’s not that long,” I say. My entire face turns warm out of embarrassment.
“Not yet. We’re just in time.” The stylist leads me over to a chair. I pout a little when I see the booster seat on it. I’m not that little; I’m not a toddler like Maddy. I look over at Maddy and Tess and remember how important it is for me to set a good example, so I climb onto the booster seat.
“Such long, pretty hair,” the stylist says as she holds my long tresses up with one hand while she fastens the plastic smock around my neck with the other. “It’s almost a shame to cut it.”
“You don’t have to.” Much as I hated Tess’s combing earlier, I really don’t want to be in this chair, on the stupid booster seat.
“I don’t think your mommy would like that.”
“She’s not my mommy. She’s my grandma.”
“Oh, I see. Where is your mommy?”
“Dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
I don’t say anything. Tess would chide me for being so mean to this nice lady, but I’m tired of all the condescension.
The stylist runs the comb through my hair a few times, which is easier than when Tess did it. “So what do you want to do with it?”
“Can you give me a perm? And dye it red?” If she could do that, then at least I’d recognize a little something of myself.
“We’d have to ask your grandma about that.”
Tess is across the salon to confer with another stylist about what to do with Maddy. She looks more comfortable on the booster seat, but then she’s used to it from the car. “I think she would look really pretty with something short,” the other stylist says. She holds a comb up to Maddy’s jaw line. “About there.”
“I don’t want it short,” Maddy whines. “I want it long and pretty, like Stacey’s.”
“Now, Madison—”
“It’s my hair!”
Tess sighs. “I suppose a little bit longer. About shoulder-length.”
“No,” Maddy says.
“That’s enough, young lady. You keep it up and you’re going back to the car without any new clothes or anything.”
Maddy pouts, but doesn’t say anything, which is tacit approval for the stylist to go ahead. With that settled, Tess walks across the salon to me. “I think you can cut off about eight inches,” Tess says.
“What about her bangs?” the stylist asks.
“Oh, I don’t know. What do you think, dear?”
“I don’t care.”
“I think she’d look really cute with bangs.” The stylist combs my hair forward. Then she holds up the mirror. The heavy line of bangs has covered my entire forehead, right down to the tops of my eye sockets. My face looks different, smaller than before. This isn’t the face of the little Chinese girl Dr. Ling tortured for weeks; this is someone new, someone innocent and cute with a whole new life ahead of her.
“I love it,” I say.
“Then let’s get to it,” the stylist says.
My haircut doesn’t take very long. Mostly the stylist has to snip those eight inches or so in the back. She has to trim a little along the sides as well to even it out. The worst part is when she trims my new bangs. Even with my terrible eyes I can see the scissors hover over my eyes; one false move and I’ll need an eye patch. I whimper a little at that. The stylist puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just stay still.”
I do as she says and squeeze my eyes shut until she tells me to open them. She holds the mirror up again. I give my head a couple tosses and then smile at how much better it feels. I resist the urge to brush the bangs away; that’s something I’ll have to get used to.
Maddy’s haircut takes a lot longer, mostly because she fidgets nonstop. The stylist gets one snip in before Maddy starts to wiggle in her seat. By the time I’m done, Maddy’s is only done on one side. Her face is red and her eyes wet. “I wanna go home,” she whines.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi. You look pretty.”
“Thanks. You’re looking pretty too.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, but if you really want to look pretty, then you need to let the nice lady work.”
“But the scissors are so sharp. She could cut me.”
“She’s not going to hurt you.” I toss my hair for Maddy, so she can see I’m all right. “The lady didn’t hurt me, did she?”
“No.”
“Well then, why don’t you be a big girl and let her work?”
“OK.”
Tess and I stand back to let the stylist work. “That was very nice of you,” Tess says. She runs her hand along my hair. “It is pretty.”
“Better than I used to look?”
“I don’t know. It’s so different.”
We sit not too far away from Maddy so we can watch. She has her eyes closed and from what I can tell, she’s bitten down on her lip to hold down the fear.
Maddy stays calm until the stylist starts to clip by her ears. Then Maddy lets out a shriek they can probably hear at the back of the store. “Don’t touch me!” she wails.
The stylist takes a step back, her face pale. She’s probably seen tantrums in the chair before, but not like this. I bolt from my chair and hurry over to take Maddy’s hand. She starts to sob openly now. “It’s all right, Maddy. I’m here. No one will hurt you.”
“Don’t leave me, Stace.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“OK.”
I keep hold of Maddy’s hand, which is hard when the stylist needs to get over to that side. We have to do a little dance around each other to clear the way. Through it all, Maddy cries silently, still haunted by visions of Dr. Ling’s prison.
For all the trouble that’s gone into it, the haircut looks nice. It’s layered in front so she doesn’t have bangs like me, while the back is long enough to touch her shoulders. The stylist’s hand shakes a little as she holds the mirror up for Maddy. “See?” I tell her. “You look pretty. And no one hurt you.”
“I do look pretty,” she says. She tosses her hair a little. “Like a big girl.”
“OK, girls, back into the cart,” Tess says. She leaves us near the front of the salon while she talks to the stylists. I’m sure there will be a very large gratuity after all of this trouble.
Once she’s paid, Tess returns to us. She strokes Maddy’s shorter hair. “Do you want to go home now, sweetheart?”
“No,” Maddy whispers. “I can do it.”
Tess and I exchange uncertain looks, but then she pushes the cart past the cash registers, into the apparel section.
Chapter 21
It’s not much fun to shop for clothes when you don’t have credit cards with no limits and are confined to Wal-Mart’s selection of cheap, sweat shop-made goods. As I browse the racks of little T-shirts, jeans, and hoodies, I don’t get the same giddy thrill as I did when I shopped with Bobby Blades’s credit cards a year ago. This is Tess and Jake’s money now, their savings. That money should be for Jake’s retirement, not to buy clothes for two little girls who aren’t even his responsibility.
Once we’ve decided on all of our purchases, Tess loads them and Maddy
into the cart. There’s not enough room anymore for me to fit too, so I have to walk beside the cart as we make our way to the toy section. I stare at the rows of pink Barbie boxes and suppress a shiver. “You can each get one doll,” Tess says.
“No thanks,” I say.
“But we can’t play if we don’t both have one,” Maddy says. “Pwease?”
I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. I suppose she is. I roll my eyes. “Fine, but you can pick them both out.”
Maddy stands up in the cart, which makes it easier for her to reach the shelves. She finds a doll with red hair like the one we had in Dr. Ling’s dungeon and hands it to me. The red hair is the wrong shade, I never had freckles, and my boobs were never that big, but I suppose it’ll work.
The one Maddy picks out for herself is an actual Barbie in a pink business suit with a microphone and video camera. She’s supposed to be a TV reporter. Maddy would rather be a print journalist, but they don’t seem to have one of those so this will have to do. She stares at the doll; I’m sure she imagines herself as a grown-up in a business suit on camera.
Tess perhaps senses things are about to take a dark turn; she hurries us over to the stuffed toys. Again she says we can each have one toy. And again I decline. This time it’s Tess who presses the issue. “Every little girl should at least have a teddy bear,” she says. “Or how about a monkey? Isn’t this one cute?” She holds out a hot pink monkey with a lighter pink belly.
It’s my turn to throw a tantrum. I stamp my foot on the floor. “I don’t want any stupid toys! Stop treating me like a little kid.”
The last thing I expect is for Tess to cry. “I’m sorry, dear. You’re absolutely right,” she says. She tosses the monkey back into the bin. “I keep forgetting.”
I know why she forgets: she looks at me and sees Jennifer, the daughter she lost four years ago. Tess had never tried to replace her daughter; it was only by chance I dropped into her lap. Even then I didn’t need her in the same way, at least not after the first few days. I wasn’t dependent on her the way Maddy and I are now. It was easy enough for both of us to think of her as an aunt, not my mommy, or my grandma. And then after three months without me, she gets all of this extra responsibility thrust upon her. It’s not fair.
Chances Are Omnibus (Gender Swap Fiction) Page 38