Even In Barren Soil, Flowers Can Grow

by Abby Gay Ill

 

 

---

 

Most people look forward to holidays. I had two pretty big reasons not to. They were named Thomas and Denise. Unfortunately, they happened provide the genetic material which ended up becoming me, so social convention dictates that I’m indebted to them. I don’t see things that way. Being raised by the two of them, in such a dysfunctional, fundamentalist household left me with a lot of trauma, most of which I’m still working through. If circumstances were better, I would have cut contact with the two of them completely. But I couldn’t, not yet. Not while my little brother was still trapped in their clutches. He was the only reason I came back here any more.

So there I sat, banging my head against the steering wheel of my beat-up sedan, trying to work up the courage to go inside. Deep breath, centre yourself. Triple check everything that could possibly cause suspicion or mishaps. Piercings all out, tattoos all covered by this frustratingly warm sweater (whose idea was it to have Christmas in the middle of summer?), hearts removed from Amber’s contact in case she texts me. Oh, fuck. My shoelaces. How did I wear the lesbian-laced Hi-tops on this road trip without noticing? Well, guess I’m going barefoot, and just hoping nobody mentions it.

I slithered up the driveway, taking care to open the door as silently as possible, hoping to delay the inevitable until at least-

“Scarlett! You’re late!” Nice to see you too, Thomas. “You really shouldn’t keep cutting your hair so short. How are you going to find a man looking like that?” That’s kind of the idea, asshole. “And where are your shoes?”

I put on my best saccharine smile. “Papa! It’s so good to see you!” I ran over to embrace him, doing my very best to seem like the perfect daughter he expected me to be.

Thomas’ face was unmoved, stuck in a permanent frown “You’re still single, I assume.” He was very good at seeming unimpressed.

I applied a frown that matched his, a subtle mockery of the man who called himself my father. “Papa, you know how hard it is to find a good man nowadays.” Especially when you aren’t looking for one.

He grumbled something that was probably a response of some kind, but I paid it no mind. I’d done the work required to stave him off for the time being, so I peeled myself away, headed for my little brother’s room.

That meant I’d have to pass by the kitchen. As I did, Denise noticed me, despite her back being turned. Into the open oven, she yelled “Scarlett? Is that you?”

Busted. “Yes mama, it’s me.”

“Give me one second.” She stayed hunched over the oven for thirty-two seconds. I counted. When she was done inspecting whatever she was cooking, she turned to face me, and took my chin between her fingers. “You could at least put some make-up on. Or some shoes. And would it kill you to grow your hair out?”

I pushed her hand out of the way. “If it’s just the four of us, I don’t need to impress anyone. Besides, this is the fashion nowadays.”

“I know, but you’re a lady now, you have to put some effort into your appearance. If you keep looking like you do now, people are going to think you’re a…” her voice fell to a whisper, “lesbian.” That’s the idea, Denise.

Wasn’t it wonderful to be home for the holidays? At least the final inhabitant of this house somehow turned out alright. Better than alright. Decent, even. I knocked on his bedroom door, three times, then two, then four. A little ritual from our childhood. After a few seconds, the door opened, and I went in. The door flew shut behind me, and its owner quickly latched the lock back into place.

I leapt at him and enveloped him in a loving embrace. A genuine one this time, no pretence necessary. I have no idea how both of us ended up so normal, given the role models we had.

“How have you been?” we asked, almost simultaneously, then began to fumble over ourselves to grant each other conversational right of way. When our squabble finished, he was left victorious, because he asked a question I couldn’t ignore.

“Are you still with Amber?” Luckily, he’d had the sense to lower his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as it was unfortunately plausible that one of our parents was listening at the door.

Oh, Amber. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her. My sunshine, my heart. Being back in my hometown, so far from her, it hurt.

He sat down victoriously on the gaming chair at his desk. “I’ll take the way your face just lit up as a yes.”

I slumped onto his bed. “You know me too well.”

“I know you just the right amount.” Even though he winked as he said it, I could see a wistful sadness hidden behind the veneer of playfulness. It was a melancholy I was sadly familiar with. I’d tried to help him, I really had, but without knowing the source of the issue, there was only so much I could do.

“And you? Still… malaised?” Malaised, that was the word. Suffering from an interminable, undefinable illness, one that sapped at his very being, dulling everything to grey. Discontent with himself, discontent that soaked through every aspect of his being, discontent he was drowning in. And that was just a second-hand perspective. I could only imagine how much sharper it stung at him.

His answer shocked me. “Heh, yeah.” That wasn’t the shocking part. “But…” He seemed nervous, as if speaking the words would make them real, something he wasn’t prepared for. “I think I might have finally figured out what’s wrong.” He scratched the back of his head, making his hair even more unruly. Gosh, when had it gotten so long? Our parents must absolutely hate that. They must have been harrassing him to get it cut. I loved it, and not just out of spite. It felt like a better fit for him.

I knew better than to press the issue. If he wanted to keep going, he would, and if he didn’t, then he didn’t.

“How’s work?” He steered the conversation back to safer ground, something easier to talk about. I let it slide.

“It’s the same as it always is. Can’t say I’m happy to be working retail, but I can make rent, and that’s what matters.” I paused for just long enough to realise he was waiting for me to take the lead. “When my lease expires, Amber and I are actually gonna move into together. That’s still a few months off, though. But what about you? Got a job since last time we saw each other?” I never liked talking about myself. Maybe it was part of growing up in this house, but I was always worried I’d say something wrong and get myself in trouble.

He looked at me sheepishly, but then again, he looked sheepish most of the time. When we were teens I used to tease him by saying he was part sheep. “N-no, not yet. I-uh, I’m going through a bit of a thing right now, and it’d be weird for me to get a job at the moment… it’s just be a huge hassle to – why aren’t you wearing shoes?” I couldn’t tell if he was deflecting or genuinely distracted.

“You aren’t wearing shoes either.”

“Yeah, but I live here. This is my room. I’m allowed to not be wearing shoes in here.”

“That seems kind of unfair. If you’ll remember, this was my bedroom once, so I should be allowed to not wear shoes in here too.” I lowered my voice to even more of a whisper, and switched my tone back to serious. “I accidentally wore my lesbian shoes today, so I had to leave them in the car.”

“How do you make a mistake like that?”

“Normally I don’t have to worry about whether or not my shoes are gonna out me to my family, so forgive me forgetting.”

He put on a faux-smug grin. “I forgive you.”

I punched him in the arm. “So if you haven’t been working, what have you been doing now that school’s out?” He might have been reticent, but I was getting something out of my brother, even if I had to squeeze it out of him.

“I’m in uni now, it’s not school anymore.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve been keeping busy, don’t you worry. Made some cool friends on-campus, joined a few clubs. Hang out with some people when I can get away from mum and dad for long enough.”

A subtle, almost imperceptible facial movement gave me a lead. “And these people you hang out with, they wouldn’t happen to count any girls among their number, would they?”

He blushed, and I knew my instinct was correct. “Wh-what does that have to do with anything?”

“So there are girls. Presumably pretty girls, based on how flustered you’ve gotten.”

“Th-that’s not important! Besides, it’s not like any of them are into – it’s not like any of them would be into me, anyway.”

That was a particularly clunky piece of phrasing. What could he mean by that? Ah, well. I suppose it would be best not to pry any further, lest he draw back into his shell. Time to find some other way to annoy him.

“So, what are you gonna get me for Christmas?” His face suddenly contorted to one of panic, worry encompassing him in his entirety. “Kidding! Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to see you squirm.” He picked up the cushion under his back and threw it at me. “I deserved that.”

“Yes. Yes you did.” He paused for a second. “Can I have my pillow back?”

I threw it back at him, probably twice as hard as he threw it at me. “But for real though, make sure to let me know what you want before it gets too close to the day. Anything your heart desires. Just not anything too expensive, I am on a bit of a budget.”

“Anything?” He gave me that nervous look again, as if there was something he desperately wanted to say, but was afraid of.

“Anything anything. Pinky promise.”

He was looking sheepish again, and I tried my best to look un-threatening. “In that case… could you – uh, could you maybe…” He trailed off, saying something so quietly I couldn’t possibly make the words out.

“A little louder, perhaps?”

“Could you, um, could you take me to have…” He trailed off again.

“One more time? You can do this.”

The last time, his voice was tiny, as if he was talking through a walkie-talkie. “Could you take me for a girls’ day out?”

---

The phone rang. Twice, three times now. Finally, my call was answered. I felt bad for running out so suddenly, but I was out of my depth here. I needed an expert. I needed Phoebe.

“Hey Scar, why the sudden call?” As the only openly queer person in my year at school, I kind of gravitated towards her as a closeted teenager. Her parents were way more accepting than mine, so she still had the luxury of living in our hometown. “I thought we weren’t meeting up until Boxing Day?”

“The situation has escalated. So do you remember how I have a sibling?”

She took a second to consider my question. “I recall you having a brother, but judging by your use of the word sibling, and the fact you called me out of the blue to talk about them,, I’m guessing that information might be out of date. Is that right?”

I sighed. “You got me. I… well… They asked me to take them on a girl’s day out for Christmas, and I panicked and I didn’t know what to do because I want to be as kind and accepting as possible and I don’t–”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. You just want to be a good big sister. I get it, my sister was the same way.” God, I felt like such a clumsy, clueless ally. This is probably how my – let’s go with sibling for the time being – how my sibling felt when I came out to them. “Okay,” Phoebe, my saviour said, “Here’s what we’ll do. When we meet up on Boxing Day, you bring your sibling, and we’ll make it a girl’s day out together. That way I’ll be there the whole time to support the both of you!”

“Thank you so, so much, you wonderful, you are a literal angel.”

“I know. It’s really no problem, I’m always happy to help a sister in need. But if I know you, and I’d like to think I do, you called me literally first thing after they told you, and they’re probably really worried and concerned because from their perspective you basically just ran away immediately as a response to them coming out. You should go talk to them.”

She was right, of course. It was a dick move of me to disappear like that. I needed to apologise.

I knocked on the door, three times, then two, then four. No response. That wasn’t good. I probably really hurt them. “Hey… little buddy. I’m… I’m sorry about running away. It was shitty of me. I just… I want to be the best sister I can possibly be to you, and I got worried about screwing up and didn’t know what to do so I panicked. Obviously I don’t expect you to forgive me immediately, the way I acted was really, really shitty. But when you’re ready to talk again, I’ll be waiting.”

I slumped down against the door. God, what an asshole, feeling sorry for myself after I did a stupid thing. They probably just needed time, and – I fell backwards into the suddenly-open door. Luckily, my making a complete fool of myself was to some avail, as I heard my sibling’s laughter, which was an encouraging sign.

“That’s not even my fault,” they said, a shining sliver of joy in their voice, “What were you doing on the floor?”

“Moping.”

“Well you’re doing a bad job of it, you look ridiculous.” Then they stopped smiling, a frightened child once again. “Were you serious about that stuff? And you aren’t like… mad at me or anything?”

I sat up and punched them gently in the elbow. “Why would I be mad at you? I hope you know me better than to think I’d be anywhere near as shitty as the assholes who raised me.”

“But it’s like–”

“No! But nothing. There’s nothing wrong with being the way you are. That was what you told me when I came out to you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but-”

“What did I just say about buts?”

They rolled their eyes. Good, we were being playful again. That’s progress. “You said no buts.”

“That’s right. None at all.” The atmosphere in the room shifted, almost imperceptibly. “So,” I said, steering the conversation further into familar territory, at least for the time being, “Any cool games come out recently?”

They looked unimpressed by my line of questioning, but answered anyway. “Well, they released Skyrim again, but – Hey, don’t try and diffuse the situation with distractions. There’s an elephant in this room, and we need to deal with it.”

“Alright then! Let’s point it out!” I retorted, “What’s your name?”

That caught them off guard. “My name?”

“Yeah. It’s like… What was it Shakespeare said about names? Something something roses, I think.”

They looked amused. “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet?”

“Yeah, that was it! That’s you, you’re a rose. You’re still my sibling, and my best friend, no matter what you decide to go by. And if you need any help, seriously, anything at all, I will be there. That’s a promise.” I found myself wrapped up in a rib-crushing bear hug, courtesy of my sibling. Ugh, I was getting ticked off at this uncertainty. “So, what’ll it be then? What name would this rose like to go by?”

They shot me a wry smile. “Funny you should use that quote in particular, seeing as how Rose is the name I’ve settled on.” Rose. Yeah, that was nice. Rose, my… still no confirmation on that front, though I figured I could make an educated guess. “It’s also a bit weird, since I’m pretty sure that quote is Romeo talking about Juliet, and I’m your sister.” Sister. There it was, that golden word, letting me open the mental floogates and think of her as the girl I’d already been suspecting she was. “Especially since we’re talking Shakespeare at the moment, and adding Sophocles to the mix just confuses the analogy.”

“Rose, I love you, but what the hell are you on about?”

She couldn’t help blushing at being referred to by her name, which I considered a point of pride. “Oedipus Rex. Sophocles wrote Oedipus Rex, which is like, the incest story. I don’t know why, though, seeing as how Oedipus himself is extremely anti-incest. You know he gouged his own eyes out when he found out he’d married his own mother, right? It’s weird how he became the poster child for incest, but I guess we can blame Freud for that.”

All of this was going a little over my head, but it really warmed my heart to see her. My sister, acting fully and unabashedly herself, no longer hiding behind any facades or masks. Just… Rose. It was incredible to me, just how much happier, how much more joyous she was, just from being seen as a girl. I couldn’t wait to see the woman she’d become.

“Now, there’s still time left in the day, how do you feel about some thrift shopping?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t really like shopping, especially clothes shopping, remember?” She looked despondent, withdrawing back into herself. Not on my watch.

I felt fire flash behind my eyes. “That, my dear sister, is because you’ve spent the past nineteen years of your life shopping for the wrong gender.”

---

I writhed under shopping centre’s warm fluorescent lights. How much longer was she going to be? I wasn’t built for these conditions. It was interesting at first to observe the varied patrons of this mall, but the kind of interesting that wore off extremely quickly. I was half-heartedly watching a mother attempting to wrangle three children of increasing age, wondering what exactly her story must have been, when something poked me in the back.

As I turned around to face it, I saw the culprit; my sister. She’d just finished changing into one of the outfits we’d bought together several days ago, and she looked a mixture of ecstatic and extremely nervous. The outfit was nothing exceptional, just an off-shoulder jumper and a pair of women’s jeans. But that didn’t matter to Rose. It was the most exhilarating, the most terrifying outfit she’d ever worn. It was also the first outfit she’d truly picked for herself.

I really appreciated the vinyl she’d given me, but the look on her face was the best Christmas present I’d gotten this year.

“So, how does it feel?” I asked, despite being well aware of the answer.

“It’s-” She stopped to find the right articulation, “It’s comfy. Comfier than any clothes I’ve owned before.”

I smiled from ear to ear. “Good to hear. Now, shall we get going?”

“I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you didn’t have a choice. Not like Mum and Dad would have let you leave the house dressed like that.”

Her expression soured. “Yeah…”

I shouldn’t have said that. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You’re not gonna have to live with them forever. We talked about this, remember? You’ll find your own place, and if you don’t, you can come live with me for as long as you need.”

“I wouldn’t wanna impose on you and Amber.”

“You wouldn’t, I promise. Now, let’s stop hanging around the entrance to the bathrooms, and find our way to our appointment.”

It took the two of us a little while to find the spa, being as we were in an unfamiliar centre. Phoebe had recommended this place in particular seeing as she knew it would be trans-friendly, and it was in a distant enough suburb that nobody either of us knew would be likely to be nearby.

Phoebe awaited at the entrance, waving us down. “Well, well, if it isn’t Scarlett. I never thought I’d see you going to a day spa,” she chided, then turned to face Rose. “And hello there, you pretty thing. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Scarlett, don’t tell me you’ve been hiding such a beauty from me all this time! And here I thought we were friends.”

I rolled my eyes at her over-the-top mock flirting, but Rose clearly disagreed with my assessment. She’d gone beet-red. I suppose being complimented as yourself for the first time (by someone who isn’t your sister) must hit differently.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, I asked “Do you want to introduce yourself, or should I?”

She slid my hand off her shoulder, and nodded in affirmation. “I can do it.”

She did not, in fact, do it. She locked up, frozen by sheer nerves. I waved my hand in front of her face. “Hello? You sure you can do it? Don’t push yourself to do something you aren’t comfortable with.”

Stubbornly, Rose refused me. “No, I can do this! Just you watch!” She straightened her back, swiveled to face Phoebe, and held her hand out, as if to offer a shake. “Hello! My name is Rose! It’s nice to meet you!”

“It’s a pleasure,” Phoebe teased, “to meet you.” She gently took Rose by the forearm, knelt down and kissed the back of her hand.

Rose, in reply, made a high-pitched squeeing noise, and threw her hands up to cover her face.

“Well,” I injected, “congratulations, Phoebe. You’ve had my sister for thirty seconds, and you’ve already broken her. Now, I’d like to not be late for our appointment, so I’m afraid you’ll have to seduce her on your own time.”

Phoebe made a show of pouting, but moved towards the clerk. Soon enough, we were through to the change rooms. As I’d had to promise Rose in order to convince her, they were single-stalled. As I was fulfilling the changing room’s function, I received a familiar knock on the door.

“Scar…” Rose whispered through the door, “I don’t have any bathers.”

Oh. Right. That was an issue we probably should have forseen. Rose obviously didn’t have bathers. She barely owned any clothes of her own yet. Honestly, I was shocked we’d gotten this far before realising. After changing back into my clothes, offering profuse apologies both to Phoebe and the spa’s clerk, and paying a cancellation fee (which was really quite reasonable), we made our way back out of the spa.

“I’m really sorry…” Rose mumbled, mostly to herself.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If anyone needs to apologise, it’s Scarlett.” Phoebe stuck out her tongue.

“Then it’s a good thing nobody needs to apologise here,” I said. “Just because one plan’s gone awry, doesn’t mean we’re done for! Let’s go get our nails done!” Rose’s eyes widened with fear, and I realised my mistake. “Right, you can’t exactly go back home with fancy nails, that’d give you away. Well darn, I’m out of ideas.”

“I thought you might be. Rose, do you have any ideas?” Phoebe asked.

Rose was staring at her feet. “Uhm, no, not really. I’m sorry for being such a bother.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why don’t we get some food in the meantime? See if any ideas come to us while we’re eating.”

Neither of us could gainsay Phoebe, and we soon found ourselves crammed into a sticky plastic booth belonging to the closest fast food chain. Not what any of us would have chosen, but not many places were open on boxing day, so it would have to do.

As the teen who’d taken our order set down a tray of burgers (which I had to pay for), he said a phrase that I’d heard a thousand times before. The words he spoke were so unremarkable, so utterly mundane that I didn’t even register them. But Rose did. When the words “Alright, ladies, enjoy your meal,” escaped his lips, her face lit up like an upper-middle class family desperately trying to show up their neighbour’s Christmas decorations.

I could almost feel the vibrations from her legs bouncing out of excitement. When he was out of earshot, she loudly whispered, “Did you hear that? He called us ladies!”

The significance of this gendering had not yet dawned on me. “Well, yeah? Of course?”

Phoebe kicked me from underneath the booth, then smiled sweetly at Rose. “It’s exhilarating, isn’t it? Having a stranger gender you correctly? It’s one thing to be treated as a girl by people who know you, but for a stranger its another thing entirely. I still get a little buzz out of it from time to time.”

“I don’t really get it,” I said, shovelling fries into my mouth, “but if it makes you happy, then that’s great.”

Rose’s grin was contagious, and I couldn’t help catching it. “It does. It really does. This has been the best Christmas ever.”

I paused my rapid consumption at that. “Really? I feel like I kinda messed up the whole ‘girl’s day out’ thing.”

“I don’t care about that, dummy. I got to be a girl for a little while. Nothing could top that!”

Phoebe coughed quite loudly, and I could see her choking down a flirty remark. I appreciated her restraint. “Leaving that where it is, just you wait for next Christmas. It’s gonna blow this one out of the water. Just you watch, Scar, she’s gonna be a whole new woman by the next time you see her. More confident, happier, comfortable in her own skin. You probably won’t even recognise her!”

Rose looked pensive, staring into the distance. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do all that in a year.”

“’Course you will! You’ll have me looking out for you, and Scarlett here, even if she’s a little far away. And I’ll introduce you to some more friends of mine. You’d be shocked just how much a person can change in a year.”

Rose stared at me, worried. She needed reassurance. I reached across the booth to squeeze her hand. “You’re gonna do great, Rose. And even if you don’t make all the progress Phoebe’s promising, you’ll still be better off than where you started. There’s nowhere to go but up from here.”

Her eyes grew bright, full of fire. “Yeah. Yeah! I’m gonna do great! Just you wait, world, I’m gonna be the most beautiful girl the world has ever seen!” She grabbed her plant-based burger with both hands, and took a massive bite. “It’s you and me, estrogen burger. Let’s do this!”

Phoebe laughed. I joined in. I couldn’t help it. “You know the phytoestrogens in plant-based meat aren’t the same as human hormones, right? Our body doesn’t process them the same.”

Rose’s eyes darted to the floor. “Yeah, sure. I knew that.”

I looked out the window, saw the summer sun blazing down through it. Sitting here, in this dingy fast food joint, I couldn’t help but feel merry. Spending time with the people I cared about, this was what Christmas was about.