Chapter 19 - Beach Episode Finale 

The self-enforced melancholy lingered in my neck, even as I pushed to dislodge it. I wanted to believe that every time Siana looked back, she could tell that something was off about me. She did give me a few, studying glances between curiously inquiring about my previous water park experiences. All of them existed so far in the past that I had no idea what memories were accurate or filled in with boredom and time.

I just told her that I mostly remembered getting lucky and others got splashed worse than me. But I focused on claiming that this was already the best among all of those. If Marsha and Eloise were judging me, I willfully wasn't aware of them doing it.

It would’ve been nice to have a small, distracting book to read because the presence of everything felt like both too much and not enough. Eventually, we were next to go.

Worries about the actual sliding didn’t have enough time to settle into my thoughts as I practiced folding my arms and legs. Siana vanished through the darkened tube first and the shirtless lifeguard with rainbow shiny shades pushed me back until it was clear Siana was at the bottom.

He barked at me, and I just wanted to be in the tube. God, once I latch onto one negative feeling it’s as though that’s all I can see. I kicked away the fear of being nobody and the indictment that everyone was angry at me. No time for such bullshit.

The slide had a few, hatch openings further down but looked dark and enclosed from my angle. My right eye felt like I just jammed a tumbleweed in it and the other fogged up in sympathy. Being able to see next to nothing, I did everything instructed as best I could and started to slip forward.

It was horrifying. Somewhere between a dryer cycle and being sucked down a drain. My mood at the moment definitely didn’t help. The water and the frantic pace left me not feeling the scuffing, but I still worried that something might be ripped loose or stuck. Only nearly at the end did I feel certain, euphoric thrill of watery weightlessness for a few seconds that was both exhilarating and relaxing. And then I got dumped into the pool that all tubes fed into.

Blind drowning terror seized me for a few moments until I managed to paddle into the shallows. Siana lingered on the side with her hair damply slicked back. I had no qualms about telling her I was scared. She rubbed my shoulder quickly and encouraged, “But you made it. Take a breather.”

Eloise and Marsha had plenty of whoops and hollers and zero fretful tears hidden by the water. They were ready for the next round and so was Siana. With a deep breath, I managed to get out I was going back to check on the main group even though it felt like I was stumbling over every single word. None of them noticed, as Siana left me with a quick wave.

When is it going to get better? When am I finally going to develop into the complete, socially-confident, self-assured person I want to be? Why do I always feel halfway and broken? Is it the stump? Is it my voice or lack of tits? I’ve been gifted with so much, even some fucked up stuff I barely understand. Yet it hasn’t gotten better. What do I do?

Rebuke my parents again? Call out people? How do I stop caring and feeling like I’m water on the ocean that the influence of other people can just push around. I dealt with it in my usual way of wandering alone for a bit until I could finally turn the dial of my brain down enough to return to the group.

Camille was happy to see me and inquired about what I was up to. I swallowed all the emotional junk I couldn’t show and presented the most cleaned-up version for her. Fun times on the river and enjoying how nice the place was from what I remember before. And then and then there’s a pirate castle and I was able to overthrow someone with the help of some kids and then the scary drop down the tube and… I held it together.

Aero scrutinized me the most, as if she could tell things beyond the veneer I was putting up. I smiled politely for her and waved. Her expression of concern didn’t waver. God, my eye still felt like there was a rod with brambles digging through. In that way, the tears finally flowed, and I had the perfect excuse for them. It wasn’t long before my stomach got involved and felt like a roiling, bloated wreck.

Blinking with strobe-like intensity and settling into the chair was all that really helped. Camille swiftly offered me something that looked like a handkerchief to rub my eye. I thanked her and dabbed carefully. If I pressed too hard or went after it, it was liable to feel like something stuck in there for hours turning into days, and then I’d have dry eyes with flakes. Just resting and blinking.

Little by little, it started to work. I could look without squinting. The sun was still oppressive but no more than usual. Once I settled into that, the rest of the tension and pain started to slough off. Camille checked that I was all right and looked relieved that I had good news for her. Looking over, I finally was able to judge how the others were doing.

Ariadne had a nice umbrella set on the side to cut the sun, with the shadow beginning to trail over half of the benches. Aero still watched me, but with a watermelon-tinted ice cream bar in her hand. Calliope had most of her body covered in a pink blanket with her hands tucked under and trying to pull it to her chin. The twins had some sort of dice-and-cards game going with one or the other declaring “flounder!” at random moments. I hadn’t really gotten to know either of them, but now I felt fresh concern that it would turn out as bad as Eloise and Marsha. Did I have to make friends with everyone though?

If this were some light-hearted slice of life anime or manga, then absolutely. Everyone must join together in friendship and overlook their flaws and become the bestest of friends. Well, this clearly wasn’t one of those. It wasn’t long before more umbrellas were delivered, and the shade cut the worst of the sun. I sat up with my hands clenched to my tummy as though they had to be prepared to deliver a Heimlich Maneuver. My guts settled.

Leaning towards me, Camille offered up the frame of a story. With private quietness but vibrating clarity, she told me about a goose. It reminded me of the kind of stories mom was an expert at telling. Camille wasn’t quite as skilled as mom, but that was fine. This was her story.

“At college, when they were laying the cement for one of the new dorm rooms right next to a swampy area, there was this white goose that hung around. It would always leave tracks, no matter who tried to scare it away. It would hiss, spread its wings, and storm toward whoever tried to intimidate it. It had a little reign of terror across campus. Until Marvin. Marvin was one of the night janitors who also kept the pipes serviced. He heard about the unruly bird and had an idea. It frequented the parking lot by the new construction and seemed to be admiring itself in the fenders of fancy cars. Marvin surmised it was vain and just wanted to see itself. He gave it a metallic mirror to make up for it, set aside. That worked for a while. He fed it all sorts of grains, cracked corn, and steamed veggies and some stuff that probably wasn’t healthy for it, but the goose demanded… to get it to stay away from people. Slowly but surely, they actually became friends. Marvin named him Winsome and all throughout college you would see the two of them walking across campus with Winsome as Marvin’s bodyguard and unruly pet. Once, Marvin tripped on some stairs, fell down to the basement, and sliced his forehead. Next thing everyone knew, Winsome was crying and screaming louder than anything anyone had ever heard. They were able to get help for Marvin but not before the goose made sure he was okay. In my senior year, Marvin retired and Winsome stopped showing up. In my heart, I like to think the two of them retired together where Winsome could live by a lake and be as irascible as he wanted and Marvin could smile and watch as they both lived happily ever after.”

My tear-crusted eyes finally worked their way back to normalcy. I don’t know what I was expecting with Camille‘s story. Little anecdotes from college sometimes lodged themselves in my memory and I endeavored to extract them without gaps or stumbles. Nothing as cohesive or cute returned to my thoughts. I could make something up, and pattern it after mom’s masterpieces. Instead, I twisted my lips around a few times as the moisture left them slightly puffy and told her that was “cool”.

She brushed away the sentiment as though getting splashed with cold water, denouncing the story as silly but “just something I remembered”. I watched her politely as she spun her way to other anecdotes of college. Improv Thursday performances. An owl trapped in the rafters of the library. The day the swimmers challenged each other to cross a flooded road by the field. Disappointment when the people she knew delighted in a yellow critter plushy from a web show but brushed off her ideas for an original creation. Wanting to help a stoner dude who claimed a different solution to his problems each week. She demurely curled up on herself when talking about this, asserting vehemently that she wasn’t correlating this to “anything else”. I understood, but I was still thought harshly of myself.

Similar stories laced the depths of my memories. People with uncertainties spinning them into entire manufactured psychologies. Claiming their psychologist they went to was full of shit, as they have this figured out as they are an insert word and phrase and trendy twisting of that into something unique. Back then, it was a blunt, smirking statement. Then, it evolved into a long-winded notion inundated with empty words. Eventually, all meaning was wrung with stacked together sounds and shuffled letters. I was too old and yet felt too young to give a shit. I appreciated honest, painful, and blunt words even if they were inexact and inappropriate. Words are truth. You hide from words in vague symbols as far from real meaning as possible, you hide from truth.

I’m a coward, so I gingerly edged around this notion to Camille. I mentioned it was better to be sincere, sticks and stones and broken bones and all that. All the while, I dodged notions of what it meant for myself. Some hapless soul who wasted so much thought inside, forged pointless adventures of imagined dreamscapes. Who tried to wring drenched meanings from stones.

I wanted to stand beside the people who burbled with pop culture plushies and their recorded phrases like good little automatons. I knew my assertions, reveals, and ideas were desperately shallow for so long, all while I thought I had it figured out. Did I know any better now to scold others? If I sat here today, in this outfit, looking like my worst self, would I be here with any of these people?

One thought clung to the side of my head though: Camille thought you were cute before any of this. Yeah, an impossible crush ages ago. But she greeted you warmly and without reservation. My bowels briefly protested, but I silently told them to shut up. I leaned towards Camille with a settled smile and told her, “Thanks… And I’m sorry."

She raised her fair eyebrows in curiosity and pressed me for clarification. I wriggled, “Thanks… For your friendship. For everything I can’t find a way to say. For text replies when I feel overwhelmed. For treks out to the middle of the desert to find nice clothes. For just talking when I don’t know what to say or I feel like I’ve said the wrong thing. And just being cool. And I’m sorry that today isn’t simply just right now for as long as you want and need.”

She wore an expression of concern for several seconds before a faint grunt in the shape of a chuckle escaped. “I’m having fun even though I haven’t decided if I want to float on the lazy river yet, or go down one of those scary tubes, or just splash in the synchronized fountain over there. And that very much includes sharing the silliest goose stories with you and sitting here out of the sun.”

I had so many busy thoughts inside my head with metaphors like grasping at a vision of a hologram, with the feeling of harmony with her despite her being many years younger than me. And all the words I was wrestling with from one group of people to the next. And where I found myself at the end was the relaxation that it didn’t matter. She was right, this right here right now was fun. And I wasn’t going to send my thoughts a million miles away.

From there, we encouraged Calliope to ditch the towel. She made it into an impromptu sarong. But, with it, she made a rigorous and mechanical lap around the park, returned to her seat, and confessed, “That was terrifying.”

Camille rubbed her on the shoulder and encouraged, “You rock that outfit. Don’t worry about what anyone out there thinks of how you look. We all know you look great!” I backed her up with a nod. Unfortunately, Calliope soon managed to catch my eye irritation, likely due to nerves and some splash.

Before long, she had scurried off to the bathroom to wash her face, Ariadne had taken Aero to get something else, and the twins had also snuck off, leaving just the two of us alone. Whether that was orchestrated or not I didn’t know, but I appreciated the privacy.

Between making sure the chairs were guarded and no one tried to snag one of them, Camille inquired, “So, that’s the one you changed from a bookstore guy? And all the others too?"

With our desert trek where she didn’t even bring it up and my vague recollection by now of what I had texted her, I felt momentarily surprised and a little stunned by her question, before responding, “Oh… yeah. Calliope just woke up like that and is adapting. And then the others, I actually watched them change. Well, Aero wasn’t there, but it was kinda crazy. All of them are so different now.”

I didn’t have a quick and easy parlance to tell Camille exactly what they were like before, and I didn’t even really know. Comparing Ariadne to Richard Garriott probably wouldn’t work, so I just verbally traced in the mustache and hair she used to have. Broccoli top, who became Natalie. The heartthrob who had become the abundantly-gifted and emotionally-tenacious Elizabeth. The camo-clad buzz-cut boy who had morphed into the goth-shaded but spirited and upbeat Siana. The remaining ones had to suffice with me deciding the guy and Amber seemed a similar flavor. The twins hadn’t changed much either. And the two I wanted to avoid now both felt more like girls before I showed up.

As for Calliope, I struggled to characterize the man I met at the weird bookstore which suddenly appeared on the main road. The fact that he checked me out shouldn’t define him. He was casually interested in genre books, especially the sort that I dig. He had puffy hair and glasses. The worst I might indict him with was being a bit too hipster. And now he needed special order bras.

I pulled my lips back into my mouth so much that I was on the verge of creating a sucking sound. Camille rested her hands on her stomach and took a gradual sigh.

“You put way too much on your shoulders. And you expect to be crushed.”

I nodded. She brushed her hair back. “You seem terrified of so many things and your remedy is to inflict more upon yourself.” I gazed at her and swallowed before looking down.

She rubbed her arms. “You feel as though you’re trapped or just stuck. I noticed it in school too, way back, that there was this sorrow about you. Like, every time you met someone, it was a battle. Even friends. I don’t really understand it and please correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s the way that I see things."

I didn’t wanna cry, but my vision felt hazy. “Uhmm. I don’t know either. I’m very private and really, until this week, I don’t know if I’ve shared myself with anyone. And now there’s like almost a dozen people all around who I at least know about and it’s not an obligation thing but but it still is but… It’s not my students and it’s not family and it’s not like coworkers or classmates. It’s just people I know who want to know me. And for the longest time I’ve felt dismissive of anyone knowing me because part of who I am felt like trash. And then all that changed… I changed in a way that made me start to feel better. But there are other changes that freaked me out because they’re piling on and there’s too much and I feel as though I’ve done something wrong and I’ll continue to do something wrong and it’ll just get worse…”

I had to sit up. But in sitting up I felt a cough which I deflected with my hand. She sat up too, her eyes watchful even though it was hard to look back. “Who were you before, especially to yourself, who do you see yourself as now, and who do you want to be?”

Such a simple question and yet an excruciating one to face. “I was Jacob Aaron Jones. And I just wanted to be cute. I felt alone when the class separated into girls and boys, and I was on the boys' side. At the same time, I didn’t feel at home with the girls but then maybe that was because I couldn’t understand…I don’t know. I just had the sense of a resting state which didn’t match how I looked in the mirror. And, well, how I see myself now ticks a lot of the boxes. It feels better to just stand around by myself and feel as though I’m not constantly inflamed. But it doesn’t feel finished. Feels like a half measure. And it also feels like I have this overwhelming sun of blasting energy inside me which seems like it should be expressed as a young woman, but I can’t express it…I can’t translate it correctly. So, my only outlet is to just spray it like a fire hose in whatever direction and see it emerge in other people.” Through a bounding, dangerous diatribe, I felt myself edging up as though I might just float away. And when I was finished, it was like a slow leak in a balloon settling me back against the slick surface of the chair. Sweat suffused my legs and clung to my arms. The others were returning, one at a time. I saw Ariadne and Aero first and it didn’t take long until things were busy and active again.

Natalie checked in with me, made sure I was alright, and complemented something else about my outfit. Elizabeth stretched and remarked with a smirk that she saw me taking the castle playground for the kids. Siana let me know that the red tube was the best one, because it was the gentlest. I felt a little uncertain about whether I wanted to give it a try, but I definitely felt like returning to the lazy river to complete a lap. I remarked that the castle thing was fun, and I was happy to help. I thanked Natalie for her compliment, and I relayed that I wasn’t sure how I felt in this outfit yet, but I was doing better. Calliope was at least walking around more but with more self-consciousness than even I could muster. I felt nice taking in the crowd and it didn’t feel overwhelming.

Each of the girls did make me a little nervous, but I could keep it in check. It wasn’t until a bit later, when I went over to the synchronized fountain, that I had the opportunity to follow up with Camille. She didn’t neglect the third part of her question, which I had skipped over.

“I just want things to feel complete…done. Not so questionable and confused.”

She laid an arm on my shoulder. “Who doesn’t? Just settle down and stay the same, but I don’t know. People change. They have to change. I’m not the kid I was back when. You’re not the teenager you used to be. We’re both massively different. That sort of thing happens all the time. Just going from a few months with my student teaching, my kids changed so much, and I’m sure you see it in those you teach too. Each new experience and new realization creates a new person. I like the analogy of the river, always flowing. Powerful, creative, and destructive. Never the same river, never the same person. Every new day is a metamorphosis that destroys and creates.“ She aimed a little squirt of water at my face and giggled. I soon got her back.

The biggest part of me wanted to write down what she was saying and also come up with my own clever annunciation, complement, or remix of her words. But I let all that relax and just think about it. It made sense. And it also assuaged some of my fears.

I was changing people somehow. Brian was never going to have the same experience of being the bookseller he was several days ago. And that group of geeks in that store had fundamentally different lives from a few days ago. Honestly, so did I.

But the wedge point that I had to keep coming back to was the fear of whether I was leaving them worse off. They didn’t seem hurt, but I could be blind to that or not have asked the right questions to know. Likely, I would never know because I only knew each of them on a surface level before things changed.

Camille seemed to notice that my playful back-and-forth with the water soon faded to pensive introspection and reiterated, “Your shoulders can’t carry the world, nor should it. You’re not responsible for others. They make their choices, and they have their own lives. You, with everything I’ve seen, are caring and immensely thoughtful. The change you feel you’re introducing into the world has your touch. Don’t be afraid of your own heart shared with others. And the rest will work out. I believe that.”

I smiled at her and gave my thanks. Out of everyone, I never expected that the girl I felt like I could barely talk to without embarrassment yesterday would be the one to unwrap the picture of myself and turn it to face me with optimism. But then, this had been my first actual effort to offer up who I was. Perhaps so many greater things awaited if I just stopped being…a ninny who kept everything to herself!

One of the hardest things, as we walked around, was just accepting there were times when I didn’t need to fill the silence with any further words. We could just walk and be there.

We tried the lazy river for a while, but Camille floated on the current without an inner tube. I attempted that position, but I didn’t yet have the confidence of pushing against the water. Floating on my tube, I marveled at her while watching the world drift by. I especially enjoyed her sincere smile each time the water rose up. She’d given me so much to think about, but my mind soon returned to familiar places. I watched the strolling crowds through the foliage and wondered: change is natural, change is right. I can bring about change. Why be afraid of it? Let it free…

I first lingered on a man in slim swim trousers which made me think of half a proper one-piece swimsuit. In my mind, I desperately visualized completing it. My imagination has never been supernaturally vivid. It’s more like catching sands in the shape of something special before they fly away. Being in a half-conscious state often seem to work best because I could touch the edge of dreaming and summon more vivid imagery, even though my brain couldn’t retain it for long and trying to record it tipped me into consciousness. Not that I wanted to be half asleep while floating.

Blink. As I watched, the trousers flowed up his body, clinging to his sides, like a strange fabric liquid. Like some midnight blue alien parasite from a comic book. It didn’t slow his stride even though his legs changed from muscular and lightly-haired to slim and smooth with a marbled texture of light tans. As he swung his arms, it was like wisps of mass brushed away in the breeze. Oaken auburn hair settled in a neat but dense bramble across his right shoulder. Slowing finally, he shifted his balance as his leotard swimsuit clung to his wide hips and trim behind. The slim straps behind his neck guarded his newly-developed bust and did what they could to flatten curves that didn’t quite challenge Calliope or Elizabeth but definitely still announced themselves. The brand-new woman paused for a moment, as though losing her place in a thought before naturally picking it back up.

I could do that. I could do that to the entire park. Just command everyone here was a girl. Every last person. Maybe reality would accept it as some ladies' free swim day for the sake of logic. All girls… Except for me.

An ache like sinus congestion settled in my head and shoulders as I let that possibility drift away. If I did that, what then? Would it finally feel like I expressed everything that I need? I don’t know, but I did have one more in mind.

Micah. Wherever he was around here. Siana had planted the idea and while I had censored myself from it earlier, my current feeling was to at least give it a try. My discomfort started to fade, and I considered my options.

Just creating a younger copy of Siana sounded boring. But I didn’t want to push things. I gathered that they seemed to be good at acting. And used to like Futurama. Not much to write a new life with. Of course, everyone up to this point I changed without a plan for the end result. Maybe it didn’t matter. But I at least wanted to see it happen.

No one in the lazy river next to me, even Camille lingering back, noticed the guy who just changed into a girl to our left. So, obviously, it was just me.

At the next opening, I excused myself with my tube and told Camille I would catch up. Fortunately, she didn’t ask where I was going, so I didn’t have to come up with an excuse. Back at the chairs, Natalie pointed me towards the ice cream booth when I asked about Siana and Micah.

Drop the doubts and the fear and just let it happen, I told myself. By the time I discovered where they were in line, it was clear that something was already happening. A stray breeze brushed his inky hair out of his eyes and fluffed it with a lighter, more chocolatey color. His eyes especially widened and took on an almost supernaturally, animated quality. As he bobbed, while considering a question from Siana, his cheeks softened up and bright pinkness flushed his lips. The praying mantis quality to his limbs remained along with a geeky beauty. Massive glasses appeared on his face and emphasized his wide eyes even more. More than anything, I noticed the swishing as he danced in place compared to the reserved calm when I last saw him.

A frilly, peach swimsuit with pleats and gossamer dangles wrapped around his shifting lower half while a pronounced dimple of cleavage emerged at his top. Her top was covered in a black-and-white version of some Japanese wood print I didn’t recognize. Siana giggled but seemed to have no idea what was happening.

Despite the prompt, she didn’t turn out near as busty as her cousin. When the changes seemed to finally complete, I felt a spark of surprise when her tongue went out and her expressive, brown eyes crossed in a way that felt more like it was painted than it was happening in real life.

“Oh, you!” Siana declared, before realizing, “Oh hey, Maggie. Mona is being a goof again. My gosh. This is not an anime OVA, you geekball. Haha!”

“Mona“ wiggled some more and said with a naturally-tiny voice, “But it’s the beach episode! Everyone in their outfits and splashing and probably slipping. And making crazy faces. Hehe.”

It didn’t take long for me to piece together that “Mona“ was a casual cosplayer who did all sorts of stuff online. A quick reference to the “dance of peace” while holding still confirmed for me that her Futurama fandom remained. I had plenty of questions though.

When Siana hung behind to grab a spoon and some napkins from a side kiosk, I took the opportunity to quickly inquire if she remembered what she asked me before about her cousin.

“Yeah, kind of a random offshoot of what we talked about yesterday about making guys into girls. She’d have fun as like a super anime girl. She’s always looking for a good artist to draw her characters.” Siana had some hesitancy with her words, as though trying to work around something that bothered her. Interesting.

I could press it. I could say what we actually talked about, but I didn’t have proof and I worried about losing her trust if I acted weird. Furthermore, I felt discomfort returning as I rolled over the notion inside my head, as though the possibility was a sharp and potent bad taste pressing against my senses. I let it go and agreed.

She soon admonished herself for not getting me something “long, cool, and sticky to swirl my mouth around”. At least Siana’s suggestive nature hadn’t diminished. I assured her it was fine and that I was just checking in and, actually, I had to use the restroom.

This time, the ladies' room was empty and silent except for the sweeping air currents of chill gusts vortexing away through the door and out the dusty slat windows at the sides. I didn’t feel as horrified standing there, but the fact I was alone helped. Despite pairing into groups in the beginning, once again I had settled into isolation, no matter who tried to talk to me.

A vague impression collected in my head that the resistance and pain I was feeling was some sort of message from the universe or God or myself not to proceed. Don’t transform every single person at the waterpark because that won’t work out. You can change him and you can change Micah. That’s fine. But don’t turn Micah into a busty anime girl.

If that was true then, that meant that everything I might’ve done, from changing one of my students, to manifesting a new bookstore, to Calliope and the others, was that all meant to happen?...

Splashing some water on my cheeks and forehead didn’t do much to clear the lingering aches, but it helped with whatever cooling the restroom had. The door creaked open, and my momentary isolation ended. Turning, I puzzled at an older woman with what looked to be a massive purple backpack/purse. Her hair had some of the same qualities as mom’s but without her regular perms. Little bits of gray accented the locks without overwhelming them. It also had a certain reddish luster like a subtle backlight. Her nose had a fair, hawkish dip which didn’t make her look severe. She had on a fluttery, gray skirt which clung close to her knees. Up top, I could tell that she took after Elizabeth and wore a gorgeous, pale pink blouse. In some respects, I could see vague reflections of myself in her. I looked away, so as not to worry her with my stare, and finished up.

“Hot one today.” She emphasized her words with a glance towards me. I steadied my thoughts with a quick breath and responded, “Sure is. I could go for more rain, like the other day.”

She laughed quietly. “I love a storm. The way everything smells and how relaxed it feels. Although going out is a problem. Better to find a friendly and comfortable spot on the porch and enjoy the light show.”

“Yeah”, was the best I could offer.

”Been a while since I’ve been to this park. Shame the second city library isn’t done by now. Oh well, someday.”

For Calliope and Starlight Pages, I told her about the bookstore just a few miles to the northwest. She knew about it and noted, “Love to work there.”

I frowned slightly and cleared my throat before remarking that I knew someone who worked there and, if she needed a good word… The woman waved her hand and smirked. “No worries. You having a good day here?”

That was a rather abrupt and odd segue. I shrugged. “Some disappointments. Some good times though. And we’ll see how the rest of the day goes, I guess."

No one had opened the door in a while, despite how busy it was outside. In fact, the rumble and scattered noises, squeals from kids, and laughter from adults didn’t even reach through the brick wall despite the windows above being cracked. It was like everyone else had secretly gone. I was sure I’d been able to hear the crowds just a moment ago.

“That’s a fair perspective to take. The good and the bad will come and go and you gotta take them as best you can. And so long as there’s a chance, who knows what might happen?” She splashed her fingers in the basin and dried them with a towel on the side.

This felt weird. I braced myself and looked her over again. Several thoughts pounded my brain, but I held them at bay to ask, “Do I know you?”

“Who can say…? I feel like I have a very nice rapport with you. I hope the feeling is mutual, even if it’s just a silly, nonsensical chat in the restroom.”

A certain wooziness remained and started to build inside my head like I was trapped in an ephemeral drain twisting and pulling me downward. I took a few steps in place, swallowed, and asked her not the first question in my mind but one burrowing its way to my mouth the fastest, “Can I ask you some questions?”

In any normal situation, that would freak anyone out and get them cutting things short. But nothing about this felt normal. And to simply inquire if I could ask her a singular question led me towards the trick that I would’ve already asked my question. At least, that’s the way I would’ve responded.

She raised her eyebrows a few times and smiled pleasantly. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

“Will I ever be happy, without conditions? The people that I’m with intuited and have been very clear that I put so much responsibility on myself for things that may not even be my fault. But I have such inborn, festering guilt and I don’t know how to shake it.”

I nearly resisted explaining my question just to see whether she already understood the context, but I felt the rest of the words tumbling out. She leaned against the counter and rocked her head slightly. “That’s up to you. We all have things we need to let go of. The only way to move forward is to accept things have happened, things will continue to happen, and things we can’t even imagine will befall us. And this all changes us from who we thought we were once into the people we will one day be. Change is just part of living. If you want to be happy, it takes work from you. Making things better. Making the life you want. Doing everything in your power for your life. And then working around the things you can’t control. But you aren’t guaranteed happiness. Will you be happy? You can do your best to make it so."

That didn’t feel like a very satisfying answer, even though I understood it. I decided to push to the heart of my concerns. “Am I really responsible? Am I hurting others or not? Have I broken things? Am I being punished? What should I do that can make things better?”

She unzipped the side of her purse and offered me a little, purple candy that glimmered in the light. I accepted it and let it sit in my mouth. It was a flavor that wasn’t too tart or too sweet and which didn’t melt away immediately. The candy lingered pleasantly, and I felt the last of my discomfort wane.

The woman stretched her arms one way and then the other before bringing out her own questions. “Would it matter if the answer to any of those questions was ‘yes’? Yes...you are responsible, yes...you are hurting others, yes...you have broken things, yes...you are being punished, yes...there are things you can do to make things better. How would that change things?”

My throat constricted, and I had to cough lightly to clear it with another little splash of water. “Umm, it has to matter. If I'm responsible, then I need to know my responsibilities. I need to know how I’m hurting people. I need to know what I’ve broken. I need to know what I did to bring punishment and I need to know what I can do. It changes whether I’m just sitting here endlessly questioning myself and whether I can actually do something to make things better.”

“And what if it’s ‘no’? You’re not responsible, you’re not hurting anyone, you haven’t broken anything, you haven’t been punished, and there’s nothing to know. You can’t possibly do things better, especially in the ways you might be worried about. If someone absolutely and definitively tells you that you did nothing wrong… would it matter?"

The problem was between my ears. I slumped. I even said all this to myself before. And I had to admit, “I don’t know. I just don’t know. It’s either one or the other or it’s both…or I don’t know.”

She leaned closer. “If you don’t know, then stop presuming the worst case. When you know, do your best to make things better. Each of us can never know and we will make mistakes. It’s life. It’s change. Let it be growth. Don’t fall into your roots and let them consume you. Live and do it the best you can. And please don’t sweat the small stuff. My goodness. That’s just silly. Hehe.”

Unprompted, she came over and gave me a big hug with a gentle rub on the shoulder. She was slightly taller than me. I had such a plethora of doubts, remaining questions, and fears, but I let her hug me and let the moment linger.

Before she turned to leave, she dipped her head slightly and told me, “You… have a good day, alright?” With a conceding nod, I agreed. Once she was gone, it was as though the air outside started to move again and all the noises that had taken a pause returned to full strength. The door pushed open, and the crowds returned to the stalls. I left soon after that.

No sign of the woman was left when I got outside, but Siana soon spotted me and called out my name. I made my way back over to the group and received a bright-red ice cream bar with a vaguely suggestive shape. I consumed it slowly. In my head, I felt the lingering flames of frustration again.

Whatever that was, and several possibilities, many mundane, fluttered through my head without clear resolution, it hadn’t really given me the answer I was seeking. Nor had telling off my parents. Nor had my supposed epiphany. Nor had pouring my mess out to Camille. Nor had anything else since all this really started. No complete proofs that literally said, “This is what you need to do, in order of operations.” Nothing. Just the clear emphasis that the choices were in my hands.

However, settling privately inside my thoughts wasn’t gonna cut it with this group. Natalie engaged me in conversation and talked about ideas she had with Mona about cosplay creations. Mona‘s eyes told me as much about her ideas as her words did. Like Micah, she had been Juliet… and Romeo. It was a school play that sounded incredibly complicated to pull off. She had played each character, mainly in scenes where they didn’t appear together. The girls and the guys in her class each expressed crushes.

Elizabeth soon got close and asked how I was doing. No one asked about the long time I spent in the bathroom. She soon had me chatting about music, video games, and the county fair in a few weeks. Elaine and Cynthia even stretched over to talk about an inventive board game where each person had a little piece of the game they carried with them and manipulated according to their turn. I offered feedback that they found insightful. Siana remained right next to me as we both worked on our lengthy ice cream bars. Amber was still a no-show, but that was fine. I didn’t pursue Marsha and Eloise, and I didn’t get uncomfortable.

Ariadne had plenty of fun store anecdotes from other places she owned mixed in with convention tidbits. Aero occasionally charged towards the lazy river before retreating. Camille often looked in my direction and we cheered on Calliope as she “survived” the big, blue tube without embarrassment. As people returned and went, I even saw Amber for a moment. Camille snuck back over to my side. I smiled with ease and got an idle idea. When she was turned slightly and smiling at a big wave cresting, I leaned over and placed a small, faint kiss on her cheek.

Her wide eyes almost made me regret it, before a smirk unraveled a grin on her reddish face. She looked at me and looked away in turn before managing quietly, “What was that for?”

I shrugged to one side but soon resolved, “Returning the favor from all those years ago.” She giggled and didn’t seem sure what to do with her hands.

That started an immediate chain reaction with everyone else wanting to learn about the kiss. Siana wanted one from me too but, “Just as the Greeks do it.” It didn’t take long for it to get kind of weird as I rapidly kissed more girls on the cheek than I could ever imagine. It wasn’t bad, but I had the suspicion Camille was getting playfully jealous from the way she folded her arms and wiggled her eyebrows.

Calliope wound up with a big hug and a kiss on the forehead for variation, while Ariadne kissed me with purpose, not quite on the lips. She apparently took the Greek thing with pride. Aero stuck out her tongue but accepted a kind pat on the head.

I wasn’t sure what happened for several minutes, but I felt irrationally relaxed. At some point in the afternoon, after quite a lunch, I accompanied Calliope to the red tube, which was supposedly gentler than the others. Calliope seemed bloated with anxieties and the meal. She fussed a lot and took the steps up slowly.

While we waited, she tapped her fingers on one of the wood beams and asked me, “Do I look okay? I wasn’t sure to ask but you know me from before. Sometimes this feels weird and sometimes it feels like the most natural thing. I’m still not used to being so…noticed, especially today.”

She wrapped her arms in the periphery of her bust which managed to hide some parts but also emphasize others.

I swallowed and asked her, “Do you feel uncomfortable in your body? I know we sort of talked about it but… How do you feel now?”

She took a few careful steps forward and then clung to the rail with her arms behind her. “I feel awkward, but I wouldn’t say uncomfortable. Definitely self-conscious. I jiggle quite a bit…” She whispered the last part next to me.

I felt warm, twisting jealousy of her, but I also understood that, if I suddenly had a body exactly like hers, then amidst the excitement, would be plenty of other emotions.

She added, “Oh and my contacts aren’t as sharp as my glasses, so that’s a thing too. I haven’t used contacts for years. So far as I know.”

I waited until we had a bit of a gap in the crowd to ask, in a reserved voice, “Theoretically, if you could turn back into Brian again, would you want that?” Toying with “theoretically“ felt troublesome because I was just presuming I or someone else could do that.

Calliope gave a quick look around, even though no one was close or looked at us. “I’ve actually thought about it. Like at night when everything is quiet…except for the cats next to the wall. If it had to happen, I would be okay, but I actually I’m not too bothered by the awkward things. I’m getting used to them. I feel fine and especially being here with so many cool people today and having a really fun day, I’m alright that this is my life. And I kinda want more. Becca calls me and her the ‘bookstore babes’ and she’s just very warm. We got along before, but I like how it is now. I just like how it is now with everything. Awkward, but I’m working on it.”

I nodded and gladly accepted that explanation. As promised by Siana, the ride down the tube wasn’t that rough, but it was rather bouncy. Calliope groaned about her “rump” and looked a little pink around her nose. I was just glad that she didn’t have any wardrobe embarrassments and neither did I.

After drying off, she suddenly looked like she had more to say, but her lips curled back. I encouraged her and she soon asked, “Can we…do like a little book club? When I first met you… I was really interested in the books you had. The owner wants to start up a program where we read and recommend titles for customers with little handwritten placards. They’ve started it on their own for a few things, but I need to add more next month. They can be anything. Would that be cool?”

I confirmed it would absolutely be cool. Not only that, but I also made sure she knew about what I used to get books from the library, so she could get them on her phone. It wasn’t long before we both agreed on a sci-fi classic to do first.

Sheltering her phone more protectively than her bare flesh, Calliope watched and listened with a single earbud. Camille joined me back in the lazy river soon after. The other end of the river, which I’d missed twice, didn’t really have anything special, but it felt good to complete the lap.

We chatted about everything and the most random things, starting at the little peck on the cheek and this whole book club with Calliope (which Camille totally wanted in on) to what countries we each wanted to see someday. I kinda wanted to see Japan, but I also understood that pop culture and idealizations of it differed from reality. She wanted to see Sweden, because of her ancestors.

As we started our second lap, I asked her, “Where do you want to go… Just the two of us? Maybe, next week?”

Camille had a snappy answer of a board game café over in Pasadena along with an underground arcade that included bowling. She learned about each of them from chatting with Ariadne at some point. I grinned and told her that sounded awesome.

She elaborated that one of them apparently required reservations and the upcoming week was going to be “nuts” for her, but she assured me that she would take care of it and keep me updated.

By this time, the intensity of the sun started to fade, even though the heat was lingering. Our group shrunk, little by little. Amber vanished at some point even though I was starting to think of something to say to her. Eloise and Marsha, along with the twins, left next. Aero zonked out at one point and Ariadne rested her against her shoulder. They too left soon after.

Though we didn’t stay till sundown closing, we got pretty close. I got sun-blasted in a few spots on my arm, despite the sunscreen. Natalie endeavored, with Mona, over much of the afternoon to pin down a cosplay look that would complement my red hair. I felt more like a fashion doll than yesterday.

Before leaving too, Camille returned a quick peck on my cheek when I wasn't looking. I was finally left with Calliope, who would be riding home with Elizabeth again. I watched her as she glanced out at the sky with her arms folded calmly under her chest. Without thinking about it, I put my arms around her in a gradual hug. I’d hugged her before and I’d been caught in a rainstorm of hugs from so many as we parted company, but this hug felt like something else. Not anywhere close to romantic or a sense of pity or need to comfort her. No. More a sense of letting go, even while embracing her. This was no longer in my hands. It was in hers.

Maybe it was never really in my hands at all, but at least I could finally accept it. Calliope met the hug without confusion or concern, as though she understood. Before I let her go, I asked her to mention me to the owner, if he was looking for new hires. She promised she would.

And then it was just me again. But I didn’t feel alone. I may not have made friends with everyone or resolved everything, but I worked at it. I changed people, or I imagined how they could be different, and the change happened. I didn’t feel afraid of it. I didn’t feel like one stray thought could annihilate the entire universe. I wasn’t a bad person, and I didn’t have bad intentions. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, and I had to accept that just being myself and not being perfect or all-knowing would be enough.

It was rough, especially with the little angry voice of my mother, like a persistent gremlin. I wasn’t sure how to completely be rid of her, but I had the resolve to understand that she didn’t matter to living my life. My fears, my pains, my doubts, my insecurities, my perceived shortcomings, my mistakes, and all the rest of that mess were still there, but I could imagine them as a mountain of garbage I could climb over to rise above.

One step at a time.