Chapter 3 – Sketching
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“So, how did it go?” Janice was hovering over my shoulder, her perpetually stained coffee mug in hand. “Did a lot of people come by?”

“Some,” I replied, only a little untruthfully. She waited, and I knew she was waiting for something else. “If nothing else it was a lot of fun. Thank you very much for arranging it for me.”

It was just the sort of pseudo-optimistic fatalism that Janice thrived on. No, you’ll never actually succeed. You’ll never be anything more than the button pusher you are now. But you got a taste, didn’t you, and at least you had fun! Now, back to work.

“I’m glad you had fun. Back to reality now, Van Gogh!” She tinkled a laugh and Van went.

I tried to forgive her, and after the events of the morning found it easier than otherwise. After all, didn’t I have a place waiting for me at Belmont House? Well, waiting for that mysterious girl who didn't want it. But it was mine to take, and that was tantamount to the same thing. I could leave this job any time I wanted.

So long as I was willing to masquerade as Cayley to do it.

Which reminded me. I got my inbox clean, caught up on the morning entries, and clocked out on break. I went up to the fifth floor, where I knew there was a unisex handicap bathroom that no one ever used.

I closed and locked the door behind me. My heart was racing. It was one thing to change in the privacy of my apartment, but at work? Suddenly the reality of what I was doing came home. But I had to know. When I put on the necklace, what changed? Was it just me, my clothes, my personal effects? Or would everyone else now remember me forever as Cayley?

I put on the necklace and observed the change spread out to the tips of my fingers and toes. I was wearing the same business outfit I had observed at home. My hair was held back from my face with a clip, and my makeup still looked good. Satisfied, I left the bathroom.

No one noticed me on the way down to the second floor. A few people nodded and smiled, but they were the sort that I only nodded and smiled to anyway. Walking as if I knew exactly where I was going, I made a beeline for my cubicle.

The name plate clearly read, “Ben Davenport.”

“Can I help you?”

I spun on my heels, trying not to stumble, and came face to face with Janice. Literally face to face — I was quite a bit shorter now, and no longer towered over the woman.

“I was just looking for Ben. Is he here?”

She frowned and checked her watch. “He must be on break. He’ll be back in a moment. Who are you again?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Cayley Callaghan.” I extended a hand, which Janice shook. “I’m in for the day, from Credit and Rebill.”

“I hadn’t heard!”

“It’s just a quick visit.”

“I hope everything is okay. Did Ben miskey something again? He’s really bad about that.” She rolled her eyes and gave a simpering smile. “Always with his head in the clouds. One of those failed artistic types.”

My own smile did not falter, but it did lose sincerity. “Quite the contrary. He helped us with a situation a few days ago, and I just wanted to thank him while I was here. I’ll stop by again later.”

And with a cheery way, I clicked my heels along the tiles as fast as I could make them go. The elevator doors blessedly opened as I approached, and a few minutes later I was in the fifth floor bathroom, back to my old self.

I made it back to my desk just as my break was over. Janice was frowning at her watch, and as I expected, she came over just as I sat down.

“You had a visitor,” she quipped. “Do you know a Cayley Callaghan?”

“From Credit and Rebill?”

“She said you were involved in some sort of issue. I expect to be copied on any unusual entries, understand?”

I promised that in future, I would be sure to copy her. She eventually drifted off, and I went back to work.

So, all of my own possessions at home would change, but not at work. And the necklace did not change anyone’s memories, either. There were rules at work here, but I did not fully understand them. Unless I spent time with the necklace on, where I could observe what was different, I might never understand what those rules were.

That night, I put on the necklace as soon as I got home. I wore it while I took off my feminine work clothes, struggling only a little to unclasp my bra. I found the old college shirt — a small now, not an XL — and the lavender pants under my pillow, where I had put my usual pajamas that morning.

At dinner, I got full sooner than I was used to. When I flipped open my personal laptop, I found a different background. When I brought up Gmail, I was automatically logged into a different account. There were plenty of advertisements and spam messages, but nothing personal. I tried logging into my usual account, but I was informed that the username and password did not match. I had no luck at all with Facebook or Instagram.

When my digital research dried up, I flipped on the TV. My Netflix account was under my new name, but most of the same programs were on the “Watch Again” list. I threw on Bob Ross, just to have something in the background, and picked up a sketch pad.

There was nothing more intimidating than an empty white page. However, I had no problem figuring out the choice of a subject today. I had a round makeup mirror, the sort of thing that stands up on a little base. I always used it for self-portraits, and this was a great chance to do one.

I sketched for several hours, pausing only to tell Netflix that yes, I was still watching, and to pour myself a glass of water. When my hand started to ache, I flipped through what I had done. There she was, Cayley, looking up at me from the page. They were good sketches, better than the ones I usually did of myself. Perhaps I was more used to my normal face, and was therefore more critical of errors.

Still wearing the necklace, I got myself ready for bed. There were a few unusual moments — for example my boobs started jiggling when I brushed my teeth, and I had to use my other arm to hold them still. But soon, I was between the sheets, enjoying a mattress that felt way bigger than it usually did. There were advantages, I decided to being shorter.

When I dreamed that night, my dream self kept changing back and forth between Ben and Cayley. Or maybe it was both. When I awoke, the all of the dreams swirled into an amorphous whole that faded soon after.

I had breakfast, once again smaller than my usual meal. The shower took longer than I expected, what with all that hair to wash, and then condition. Still, it felt good to wash this body. I kept surprising myself by looking down and seeing it, nude except for the necklace whose cord cut right between my breasts.

My legs and armpits felt a little stubbly, but I was running late, and anyway, it wasn’t going to matter soon. I got out of the shower, toweled myself off, and began to blow dry my hair. Damn, this was taking a while. I should have gotten up an hour earlier, or else taken care of this last night.

Finally it was dry, if a bit frizzy. I went through my drawers to find a fresh pair of panties — I used the same bra from yesterday, which was hanging on a chair. If it had been a struggle to get off, it was an adventure to put on again — not least because I had to deal with the necklace at the same time. But I managed it. I chose an outfit from the closet more or less at random, pausing only to make sure that the pants matched the top. On my feet, I slipped a likely pair of shoes.

I considered my reflection in the mirror. A little rough around the edges, perhaps, and I certainly noticed the lack of makeup. But it would do.

Almost regretfully, I took off the necklace. I felt the tugging sensation, and suddenly I was Ben Davenport again, dressed for work. My shirt had come untucked a bit, and my hair was untidy. I righted these.

So, there was some kind of correspondence between my possessions in each state. My personal appearance crossed over as well, although since it was less complicated to get ready as a man, there were fewer things to get wrong on that side. I realized with a start that I had spent the last twelve straight hours as a woman. It was a good thing that I was going to work now — I needed to remember what it was like to be me. Leaving the necklace behind on the dresser, I picked up my briefcase and left the apartment.

Five minutes later I came back, scooped up the necklace, and left again. Better to keep it with me. Just in case.

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