Second Chances

by P. D. Cacek

  The doorknob felt very hot against Jessie’s palm. “I’m not like you.”

  “It was only after I graduated and told my family I was taking a bus to Los Angeles to seek my fortune, that I finally became who I always was. George Mason Samuels got on the bus in Barstow, but it was Georgina Mary Samuels who arrived in the City of Angels on a one-way ticket. I didn’t need to pretend anymore. I was Georgina and people accepted me as Georgina. I had a life and I had friends. I even found a job as a typist file clerk and started taking night classes in psychology, eventually getting my degree. I knew I wanted to help people like me…even before I knew there were people like me.

  “My life was perfect until one night as I was coming home from work, a man grabbed me and pulled me into an alley…and discovered that Georgina didn’t exist. As he was beating me to death he called me an imposter, so you can understand why I don’t particularly care for that word. The last thing I remember was the look of disgust on his face.

  “Georgina woke up in a hospital in Fort Morgan on November 24, 2019 in the body of a woman who’d been beaten to death by her husband. Full circle. I never asked or wanted to come back, Jessie, and I don’t know why it happened, but I came back as the person I always knew I was.”

  “I’m not like you!”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “You did. You said I was like you.”

  “No, Jessie, I just meant I was transgender and—”

  “I’m not like you. You’re a freak. Why don’t you kill yourself and go back to where you belong!” Jessie swung the door open and stepped out into the hall.

  “Jessie, wait. Stop!”

  Too many years of childhood-learned obedience stopped Jessie in the doorway, but she didn’t turn around.

  “I never told anyone about…who I was before, about George, because by that time I was Georgina. The hospital staff only knew that a woman died and came back in a different woman’s body and I never corrected them. But I still know the consequences of living with a secret and you don’t have to. The world has changed, Jessie, you have the right to be whoever you are.”

  “I’m not like you, imposter. I’m real.”

  It didn’t say another word as Jessie walked down the hall, out through the main entrance and kept walking all the way home.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Haverford, Pennsylvania

  Eva let the roll of paper slip from her fingers to the floor, giving the four parallel lines that covered it only the most perfunctory glance. The lines, some squiggly, some straight, didn’t look any different than the first EEG printout they’d taken of Curtis in the emergency room –

  Gamma: cognitive functions (straight)

  Beta: logic and understanding (straight)

  Alpha: the bridge between the unconscious and conscious (rolling waves)

  Theta: dreams (larger waves)

  Delta: a state of consciousness in infants (spikes)

  – so Eva saw no reason why Dr. Groundling felt obligated to show her more of the same thing. Or continually repeat herself. Curtis would wake up when he was ready.

  “As you can see, Mr. and Mrs. Steinar, there’s been no change in Curtis’s EEG.”

  Eva suppressed a yawn as her husband picked up the slippery ribbon of paper and handed it back to the doctor.

  “That’s not good, is it?”

  “No, it’s not. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Steinar, Mr. Steinar. Given Curtis’s persistent status, it’s doubtful that he will ever regain full consciousness. He has lower brain activity, which means he may occasionally appear to wake up or respond to outside stimuli, but he’s not deliberately controlling these actions. There is very little more we can do for him in terms of restoration therapy.”

  Eva felt a grinding pressure on her hand and looked down to discover her husband had grabbed it. It took some effort but she finally managed to pull it free.

  “So what are you telling us,” she demanded. “Are you kicking him out?”

  “No, not at all, Mrs. Steinar.” Dr. Groundling folded the roll of graph paper into squares and set it down on her desk, where it unfolded itself. “Of course you may take him home and we’ll be happy to provide you with the name of home-care specialists, but if you’d rather he remain with us, we’ll move Curtis into our palliative care unit.”

  “That’s a hospice.” Eva rubbed her hand. “We’ve already made ourselves clear on that matter. Curtis is not dying.”

  The doctor sat up and squared her already square shoulders. “No, Mrs. Steinar, he’s not. He is more susceptible to airborne and systemic illnesses in his present condition, but barring contagion he can continue as he is for a number of years. His body can be maintained, Mrs. Steinar, but we have no idea of how much, or even if Curtis is aware of what’s going on around him.”

  “He’s always been introverted,” Eva said.

  Dr. Groundling nodded. “As I was saying…if you decided to take Curtis home, we will provide health-care visits, but if his condition were to suddenly deteriorate he would have a much better chance of recovery if he were still here.”

  “Then I guess he should stay here. Don’t you think so, Eva?”

  She hated the thought, but the facility was still the best place for him…until he woke up. Eva nodded and saw Dr. Groundling smile.

  “I’ll see that he’s moved as soon as possible. I understand how helpless you must feel, but we have to face facts and one of those facts is that Curtis will never wake up.”

  Eva slid the purse strap over her shoulder and stood up, ignoring her husband’s questioning look the same way she’d ignored the lines on the EEG.

  “Facts are made to be challenged. Do you know who told me that, Doctor? My son, Curtis. Curtis wouldn’t accept something just because it was called a fact and neither will I. Can you prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that Curtis won’t wake up?”

  Dr. Groundling looked nervous. “Well, no, there have been cases….”

  “Then don’t call it a fact. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Curtis should be back in his room by now and I want to explain to him why he’s going to be moved. Geniuses require details, you know.”

  She could feel them both stare at her as she left the office.

  * * *

  Arvada, Colorado

  Jess looked at the time on his phone then swiped the screen with his thumb and hit the contact icon. Jessica’s quick-dial number was two, Abigail’s was three. His wife’s had been one and he’d never reassigned it after erasing her last voice mail.

  If she were still here, she would have known what to do and what to say, and what message he wanted to convey to their firstborn. It seemed so effortless for her, not so much for him.

  Jess closed his eyes and lifted the cell phone to his forehead, rubbing it against the lines that seemed to have grown deeper since he became an only parent. His wife wouldn’t have been standing there, mentally running down options and platitudes and….

  He lowered the phone and opened his eyes. No, his wife would probably have gotten in the car, found Jessica, picked her up, taken her over to Old Town for ice cream at Scrumptious and then driven over to the Arvada Center so they could wander around the outdoor art exhibits while their ice cream melted, and listened to whatever Jessica wanted to talk about.

  That’s exactly what she would have done, so why couldn’t he? All he had to do was get in the car and—

  The front door opened and slammed shut.

  “Jessica?”

  There was a pause and the sound of a backpack hitting the foyer floor. “Yeah. It’s me.”

  Jess looked up and nodded. Thank you.

  He found her in the kitchen standing in front of the open refrigerator, downing mouthfuls of orange juice directly from the carton…until she saw him.

  “Sorry,” she said/choked as she lowered the carton and be
gan screwing the cap back on.

  Jess sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “Why don’t you bring it over and join me.”

  He watched her close the refrigerator door with her foot then walk over to the sink and grab two glasses from the drying rack.

  “None for me, thanks,” he said, and she put one glass back before sitting down. Jess waited until she’d poured the juice.

  “I got a call from your school.”

  She picked up the glass and took a long swallow. “Uh-huh.”

  “You want to tell me what happened?”

  “I left and I’m not going back.”

  “Okay, but I think that was more a statement than an explanation.”

  She took another swallow.

  “Your principal said it had something to do with your counselor, Ms. Samuels?”

  Every muscle in her body went rigid. Jess had no idea Jessica was even talking with the school counselor, but it was obvious something had happened.

  He reached out for her hand and felt her pull away. That worried him.

  “Jessica, look, if this is about your grades last semester, it’s okay. You’d been through a lot and—”

  “I’m trans.”

  “You’re what?”

  She put the glass down and sat back. “I’m trans…transgender. I’m…I feel like…I’m male inside.”

  “Ah.”

  This was unexpected, but it wasn’t as if he was at a complete loss. There’d been church-sanctioned seminars and study groups that he’d attended which dealt with the subject and how to handle it, so he knew he had to remain calm and be supportive and positive.

  As much as possible.

  Jess took a deep breath and kept his hand within reach. “No, you’re not.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “You’re not transgender, Jessica.” He hoped the smile he gave her looked calm and supportive and positive. “But you are probably gay and that’s fine.”

  “Um, no, I’m trans, Dad, and that’s not the same thing.”

  Jess pulled his hand back. “No, you’re confused, but you don’t have to worry, I love you and always will, no matter what your lifestyle.”

  “Dad, you’re not listening….”

  “I am, Jessica, I am listening, but you have to understand, you can’t be transgender. One soul, one body…the same as any True Born, and you were born a girl. Being transgender would be like turning your back on the soul God placed inside you. It’d make you a kind of imposter, like….”

  “I’m not! She said I was like her because I’m the same way!”

  “What way? Who said what?”

  “Ms. Samuels.”

  “The school counselor?”

  There were tears streaking down his daughter’s face as she nodded. “Yeah, we have this group that meets at lunch and it’s supposed to be a safe place for people like me, you know to come and talk but…she said I was like her because I’m trans, but I’m not!”

  Every muscle in Jess’s body tightened. “Like what? Jessica, I don’t understand.”

  “She was born a guy and got killed because she dressed like a woman, but I don’t dress like a boy and—”

  “Killed?” Jess found himself on his feet and moving around the table to grab his daughter’s arms and pull her to her feet. It was only the sudden fear in her eyes that stopped him from shaking her. “What did you just say, Jessica?”

  His daughter looked into his eyes. “She’s a Traveler!”

  Jess released his grip on his daughter’s arms so he could pull her into a hug. “Oh, my God, oh my God. Is she the only one working there?”

  “I – I don’t know.”

  She began to cry. Jess could feel the small hitches of her sobs as faint shudders and twitches. She’d cried like that at her mother’s funeral, quiet and almost unseen. He stroked her back.

  “It’s all right, baby, you don’t have to worry. I’ll find out and when I do…. You and your sister are not going back to that school and I’m going to make sure everyone knows about…. My God, I never even thought to ask. Why would I? What kind of a father am I?”

  She hugged him tighter and said something he couldn’t make out, but he kissed the top of her head as if he had.

  “I’m so, so sorry, Jessica, but I can promise you something like this will never happen again. I’m going to expose them. God, look what only one of them has done to you.” Jess straightened. “They can’t get away with it. They can’t be allowed to continue to infect our children like this. That’s what it is…an infection…they infect our children into accepting them. Clever monster, but it’s not going to work. I’m going to let the U.C.U.A. know and demand that an investigation of the school system, not only here in Colorado but worldwide, to ensure that True Born children are protected from their influence and corruption. You did a brave thing, Jessica, and I’m proud of you.”

  She lifted her face and tried to smile.

  “And I want you to promise me something, okay? I want you to forget everything that creature told you. Your soul and body match just as God intended, and I’m glad you told me you’re gay. If you like we can start a LGB group at church, what do you think?”

  It took a moment but she finally nodded. “It’s LGBTQ.”

  Jess exhaled slowly. She was back.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Jessica. That thing intentionally misdirected you to believe you were like it. It tried to convince you that you were one person on the outside and another on the inside, just like a Traveler. But you’re not an imposter, you’re a True Born and my beloved daughter and always will be. Now….”

  Jess gave her another kiss and pushed her away. “Finish your juice and don’t worry about anything. This wasn’t your fault, this was a revelation. If you’ll excuse your old dad, he has a few calls to make.”

  He left his daughter standing and in tears, and was inspired by her courage.

  One body. One soul.

  * * *

  Jessie wiped her face and sat down, pushed the glass of juice away from her when just looking at it made her stomach twist in on itself.

  Abbs?

  Hey! God, I wish you were here. We’re going to have a cook-out tonight and—

  Ms. Samuels is a Traveler.

  What?

  I told Dad and he’s going to find out if there are any others at the school. But we won’t be going back there anyway.

  What? Wait. What? Jessie, what’s going on? What happened?

  Jessie closed her eyes and hit mental replay.

  Wow.

  Yeah.

  So, what now?

  Jessie picked up her glass, carried it to the sink, and poured the last few swallows down the drain.

  Nothing.

  I mean about you being transgender.

  But I’m not. I told you what Dad said. It’s all Ms. Samuels’ fault.

  Jessie.

  I’m probably not even gay.

  Jessie turned on the faucet and garbage disposal and discovered the combination was better at blocking her sister than any childhood song.

  She’d have to remember that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  June 22

  Haverford, Pennsylvania / 11:30 a.m.

  “You know how I hate to complain…but I honestly don’t know how much more I can take of this place. I mean, the rehabilitation center wasn’t too bad but this…. My God, they’re impossible. They refuse to listen to me, can you believe that? Yes, they do a wonderful job with you, but they still don’t understand the workings of your mind. I try to tell them how a genius’s mind works, but they won’t listen. It’s maddening.”

  The one-sided conversation Eva had started when she’d been allowed into his room – I’m sorry, Mrs. Steinar, but you know the rule
s. It’s very important that we monitor Curtis’s food intake in a quiet and controlled environment and your presence seems to…disrupt that – continued as she pushed his wheelchair across the empty lobby.

  Eva couldn’t remember the last time she saw anyone, other than the nursing staff, sitting on one of the sofas or lounging in a chair or reading a book or playing cards or watching the flat-screen TV that always seemed to be on.

  The lobby was beautiful but an obvious indulgence that she and the families of other long-termers were paying for. The patients never used it because most of them were either confined to their beds or dying or both. Curtis was the exception, which made it all the more infuriating that she was required to sign in and sign out and obtain a pass if she wanted to take her son outside.

  And why she always pushed him through the lobby instead of taking the shortcut through one of the side doors.

  She was paying for the lobby, dammit, and she was going to use it.

  Especially today.

  “Do you know what that doctor told me? He said you’d run a slight temperature last night and thought it would be best if you just rested today and asked me to come back tomorrow. Can you imagine? Well, I told him I would be back tomorrow but I was also going to take you outside to see the roses today.”

  Eva exhaled. “Listen to me babble. I’m sorry, I forgot you heard all that, but it’s just that they make me so angry sometimes. They treat you like a child…they treat us both like children…as if I don’t know what’s best for you.”

  The warm air, already heavy with humidity, engulfed them as Eva pushed the wheelchair through the automatic doors and into the bright summer sunshine.

  “All you need is a little fresh air. Ah. Take a deep breath, Curtis, doesn’t this feel better than being stuck inside?”

  Curtis’s head bobbed up and down, agreeing with her – How can they think he doesn’t understand? – as they continued down the path to the rose garden.