I Was Trapped in a Man’s Body! (1969)

©1969, 2013 by Dallas Denny

Source: Denny, Dallas. (1969). I was trapped in a man’s body. How could I tell my family and friends that I had been living a lie? Unpublished fiction.
 

 

 

This was my attempt to both write an article for a True Confessions type magazine for publication and to deal at some level with my transsexualism.

I have never read what is popularly called transvestite fiction. I’ve seen it of course, but it has just never interested me. To some readers, this piece might at some level seem to fit that genre, but it’s my attempt to fictionalize how a young woman might feel and behave when she learns she is biologically male. The protagonist identities consistently and entirely as female.

 

Not surprisingly, I contrive a reason for Kathy’ existence as a woman. That is in common, at least, with transvestite fiction. In both cases it’s due to guilt. I felt horrible guilt about my transsexualism. Now, of course, I feel none whatsoever.

 

I’m not certain when this piece was written, but 1969 feels about right, because of the exposition. By the early 1970s my fiction contained far less description.

 

I Was Trapped in a Man’s Body!

How Could I Tell My Family and Friends

That I Had Been Living a Lie?

 

It was at the hospital that I found out the terrible truth about myself. I was being prepped for surgery—an appendectomy—when the nurse gasped and dropped the hem of my nightgown. She stood there for a second, her eyebrows arched in surprise, and then hurried out of the room without saying a word to me. She was back in less than a minute with an intern who leered at me quizzically and then walked off shaking his head. “What’s the matter, for God’s sake?” I called after his retreating form. The only answer I received was a blush from the nurse. I had been joking and trading recipes with her only the night before.

Whatever is the matter? I wondered. I feared the worst. Some complication, most likely. I would have to have a hysterectomy, no doubt. I would never have children. Before I let my imagination run completely away with itself I shifted my attention to the events of the past two days.

I had been feeling nauseous all morning, and had left work in the afternoon because of stomach pains. I had asked my boss, Mr. Perkins, for permission to leave. Mr. Perkins is a jolly, round man of about forty. His ordinarily smiling face had grown serious and he had said, “I think that’s a good idea. You’ve not looked well all morning.” But it was Sue, the office flirt, who had pulled me aside as I got my coat and told me, her black eyes flashing, that I should go to the hospital. “Kathy, you’ve looked poorly all day. I’ll call Dr. McCalla and let him know you’ll drop by the hospital on your way home.” I was just ill enough to let her talk me into it.

I had stepped from the porch, complete with Doric columns, of the Andrews & Andrews Manufacturing Company, into a cold and driving rain and a brisk March wind and had flagged a cab instead of waiting for the bus as I usually do. “You look ill, Missee,” said the cab driver, his eyes studying me intently in the rear view mirror. “Where to?” He had to help me into the emergency room when we got to the hospital. We came through the double doors, me with his big arms around me, and he steered me to a waiting chair. “My name is Al. Ask for me next time.”

“Thanks, Al,” I managed to say as he left. That was yes­terday afternoon. I had been diagnosed as having appendicitis and my operation scheduled for today. Sue, the angel, had come by with flowers from the gang at the office, but had been able to stay for only a few minutes. It was her coffee break. She told me Mr. Perkins said to get well before I tried to go back to work; I was too good a girl to lose.

But now I was lying in bed wondering what in the world was wrong. After a few moments Dr. McCalla came in with a grim face and closed the door, “Kathy…” I looked at him, not wanting to interrupt. He seemed to be having a hard time. “… why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea…”

“Idea of what?” I demanded. He looked shocked.

“That…” He looked puzzled. You don’t know. You don’t know, do you? Kathy, you have a complete set of male genital organs. You are not a woman. You’re a man. And you’re telling me you don’t know that?”

“Oh my God!~ I thought that was the way I was supposed to be! I mean, it’s all I’ve known.”

Dr. McCalla looked at me. “Kathy—or whatever your real name is—was this whole amnesia bit a sham to allow you to start an identity as a woman? As your doctor I have the right to know.”

He was referring to the fact that I had been found, dazed and bleeding, in a field almost a year before, and had been brought to the hospital saying over and over again, “My name is Kathy Connors. My name is Kathy Connors.” Tears welled in my eyes, “It’s not true!” I shouted, “You’re lying!” But I knew he wasn’t. I have a feeling for lies, and this wasn’t one. “Get out!”

Dr. McCalla leaned over my bed and hugged me, “I’m sorry, Kathy. It was as much of a surprise to me as it must have been to you. I know now you must be terribly upset, but you’re scheduled for an operation we’d better not postpone. We’ll work this thing out in the morning, Dave will be here then. I’ll tell the nurse and the intern to keep quiet about this, or course.”

In a few minutes the nurse returned and sheepishly finished prepping me. No wonder she was embarrassed. I was some sort of freak! But soon I drifted away in a sweet sea of anesthetic.

An appendectomy isn’t that difficult an operation. Luckily, my appendix hadn’t burst. If it hadn’t been for Sue, bless her heart…

The next morning I was sore, but clear-headed. When I awoke, I rang for a nurse. She brought Dave—Dave Masters, my psychologist. He’s good-looking, and a heck of a guy. She also brought Dr. McCalla. Dave bussed me lightly on the cheek, “Kathy,” he said, “after working with you so thoroughly after we found you in that field, I know you better than you do. We told you you were Kathy Connors, and that’s who you became, And that’s just what I told Ben here.” He winked at Dr McCalla.

“Oh, Dave, I’m so confused. What can I do?”

“Kathy, there’s bound to be a reason why you were wandering in that field. We weren’t able to find a missing female, and nobody thought of looking for a missing male. Incidentally, male or female, you are one of the sweetest and cutest persons I’ve ever known,” He squeezed my hand.

“Kathy,” interjected Dr. McCalla, “we think we know who you are—or were. Would you like to know?” I nodded yes. “Your name may have been Darryl O’Connor.” He showed me a picture of a young man with the same color hair I had. “We haven’t contacted O’Connor’s parents yet, but we feel they have a right to know you’re alive—if you are Darryl O’Connor. With your permission, we’d like to take your fingerprints to make a positive identification and your permission to contact the O’Connors if you turn out to be Darryl.” Again I nodded yes.

Dave spoke now, “We want you to know that if you want to remain Kathy, you may, and if you want to become Darryl again, you may do that. I don’t expect an answer right now, of course. Call me when you’ve made up your mind. If you want to live as a female you can, and with medical help can actually become a female. Not that you’re unattractive now, but with hormones and surgery…”

“The decision is yours, Kathy,” said Dr. McCalla, “and we won’t try to influence it. But if you have any questions about what can, in either case, be done, we‘11 be glad to help you.”

“Your family may try to influence you,” added Dave, “but while you should consider their feelings, this is your decision and it’s your life that the decision will influence. If you wish to regain your memory, that can perhaps be done with hypnosis and counseling. I’ll be glad to provide both free of charge,”

Dr. McCalla concluded, “I examined you just before I operated. As a male, you are perfectly capable of functioning normally. As a female you will be perfectly capable of functioning normally, although you won’t be able to bear children. As Dr. Masters has said, the decision is yours. That is the decision of the staff of this hospital. We respect your privacy and will try to keep word of this from leaking out. Good night.”

I lay in bed in a daze as the nurse took my—or Darryl O’Connor’s—fingerprints. In only thirty-six hours, my whole live had been turned upside down—and I wasn’t even sure it was my life.

I was lifted from my reverie as Sue burst into the room, her black eyes blazing. She stopped by the bed. “Who are you, anyway?” she demanded. I had known everyone would find out, but I hadn’t dreamedit would happen so fast, “I’m not sure who I am, but for your information for the past year I have been Kathy Connor!” With this said, I fell back in the bed I had raised myself up from.

The fire went out of Sue’s eyes. She stroked my hair. “I’m sorry, Honey, I was going to speak a piece of my mind, but I know now I’ll think of you as Kathy, sweet Kathy, even if you are Darwin Carter.” “Darryl O’Connor,” I corrected. “They say I’m Darryl O’Connor. Darryl O’Connor. How in the world did you find out? I hardly know myself.”

Sue’s eyes flashed again, “I have my ways. I went out with an intern here… He talks too much. I don’t think I’ll go out with him again. A girl’s secrets, obviously, aren’t safe with him.”

Her face grew serious, a rare occurrence. “Honey, I’m sorry for what you must be going through. I think of myself too much when I should think of others. I want you to know that whoever you are, I’m your friend for life. If you are as fantastic a guy you are a girl, you’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about.” Sue swayed out of the room.

I watched her go, thinking that, as a man, I should be attracted to her. But I just thought what a sweet, sweet person she was, and how much she gave of herself. I was proud to have her as a friend for life.

Dave dropped by late in the evening. “It seems you are indeed Darryl O’Connor,” he said. “We wired your family, and they wired back saying they’ll be here in the morning. They’re bringing your older sister, Cindy. I haven’t told them the whole story, because I wanted to face them with it in person. As soon as I feel they’re prepared to see you, I’ll let them in. By the way,” he grinned. “You were a sophomore in college, an A student. You come from a small town about two hundred miles from here, and were going to school at State, which is about forty miles from here. Your sister lives here in the city. The last time you were seen was when you were visiting her. That’s why you were found in this area. Perhaps she can help us clear up the mystery about your amnesia, but I’m afraid that any cure will have to come from you in person.” He stood up, “Right now I prescribe a good night’s sleep.” He winked and left the room.

Early the next morning a nurse helped me from bed and told me to walk up and down the hall. A few minutes of walking helped my soreness, but left me exhausted. When I got back to my room, Dave and Dr. McCalla were already there with a pretty young lady with straw-colored hair. One look at her face told me she was my sister. “Cindy,” I smiled. Her face registered surprise. “You remember?” “No, dear, I don’t remember. I knew you were coming today, and the resemblance told me the rest. You’re lovely.”

Cindy blushed and took my hand. “Kathy—or Daryl—that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

Dave spoke. “Kathy, Cindy has told us something I think helps to explain your mysterious appearance. Or dis­appearance, as it must have been to her.”

“I’d love to hear it, but where are my mother and father?”

“They’ll be here later. As I told you yesterday, Cindy lives here in town, and came right over. She thinks she has an ex­planation for a few things. Ben and I are going to run along—we’ve already heard this.”

Cindy smiled as they left the room. “Darryl—” she began.

“Please call me Kathy,” I said. “I don’t much feel like a Darryl.”

“Kathy—I know you don’t remember things, so I’ll go as slow as I can, It was spring break at state. You went to school there—and you were staying at my apartment, I had been away from home, working, for a year, and, besides the few weekend trips I had managed to take to Mom and Dad’s during the summer and at Christmastime, we hadn’t seen each other. So I took a few days off, and we were just getting to know each other again. My girl friend, Samantha, had come over several times, and we had really had a lot of fun. The weekend was coming up, and you were going back to State. You didn’t then have a car—I don’t know if you have one now—so you were going to ride the bus home. But you weren’t leaving until the next day, and in the meanwhile we were having a lot of fun. We were all going to a party—a costume party. You hadn’t brought a costume, and at first weren’t going to go. Samantha suggested you wear some of my clothes and go as a girl. You weren’t going to at first, but we ended up in a silly argument about how women have it easy, getting doors opened for them, being taken out, and so on. We weren’t angry, really, just playing, but we decided you were going to the party as a girl. And we dared you to ride the bus back to State the next day dressed as a girl. Sam bet you you would be ready to admit that women didn’t have it all that easy. She was as confident that you would change your mind as you were confident that you wouldn’t.

“Anyway, we put down the blinds and went to work, You never had much of a beard, you know, but we had you shave closely, and take a long, hot bath. We told you to dust off with powder when you got out of the tub, and wrap a towel around you when you. came out. That was to stall you, because we were wrapping all of your clothes up in a package. Sam ran to put the package in the mailbox as you were putt1ng on the dusting powder. When you found out what we had done, you were more determined than ever to go through with the whole thing. So you let us shampoo and roll your hair, thin your eyebrows, and paint your fingernails and toenails. We decided to introduce you as my friend Kathy Connors from State. Too many people knew I didn’t have a sister to introduce you that way. We made you up as a college girl. Wholesome, but attractive. We put on makeup; we used eye shadow, mascara, lipstick—the works. We were going to use a pair of Sam’s false eyelashes, but we decided a college girl probably wouldn’t wear them, and you really didn’t need them, because you had fine, long lashes. We rounded up some clothes—a bra, panties, pantyhose, a slip, and a party dress of Sam’s. You weren’t about to wear the panties, but we convinced you you would need underwear, so you finally agreed. My shoes were too small to fit your feet, but Sam’s fit perfectly. She got a pair for you, with a matching bag. We put makeup, a brush, tissue paper, and a billfold in the purse, and in your suitcase, which was empty because we had mailed away your clothes, we put some clean clothes for you to wear the next day.” Cindy grinned, “We even put a pair of nighties in, for a joke.”

“I still wear them,” I admitted.

“We put you into the dress and the rest of the clothes, and combed out your hair. Sam ran back to her apartment for some jewelry, and I kept you away from the mirror until she got back and we had put earrings, a few rings, and a bracelet and a necklace on you. Then we stood back and admired our handiwork. We saw—instead of Darryl O’Connor, we saw a stranger—a lovely young college girl. We were amazed, Your own mother wouldn’t have recognized you. She might not now.” Cindy squeezed my hand. “When we let you look, you just stared and stared. I must admit, you were per­fect. You looked so sweet, so innocent, We spent about an hour showing you how to move and walk and how to sit. It was hard for you to learn to keep your legs together. But after a while you caught on, and after that you moved as gracefully as Sam or myself. Your voice was perfect also. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable voice for a young girl to have. Your voice was always a little high, anyway.

“We went to the party that night, and you were a big hit. Half of the people there didn’t know you were a guy because we didn’t tell them; the half we did tell were amazed. I went as Cinderella and Sam went as a wicked witch,. But nobody paid any attention to us, compared to you. You practically had to fight off the guys. After the party, we went out to eat, and a guy at a nearby table kept giving you the eye. You didn’t know what to do, so you just Ignored him, which was, of course, just what you should have done.

“The next morning we all went to church, and then to the zoo. You wore a pants suit. At two o’clock, we drove in Sam’s car to the bus station, and we put you on the bus to State. That evening you called to say you were at the dorm. That was the last anybody heard from you.

“I never thought to tell anybody that you had been dressed as a girl because I knew if you were at your dorm, you could easily change clothes, Anyway, I guess I was so upset I forgot all about our little masquerade. There was a big search, and Mom and Dad were terribly upset for months and months. We didn’t know if you had been kidnapped, or drowned, or what!

“Well, that’s about all I know,” said Cindy. “Tell me what happened. Start from when you first can remember.”

“I came to in a field; I was just wandering around. I didn’t even know I had amnesia. A cab driver who was driving by thought it was strange for a girl to be wandering around like that after midnight, and stopped. I was acting so strangely he brought me here to the hospital. Here the doctors found that I had no memory. They kept me here for several days, trying to find out who I might be, but there were no missing persons who fit my description. Everybody thought I was a woman and treated me like one. I thought I was a woman, myself, A collection was taken up for clothes for me and a place was found for me to work—as a secretary. A patient at the hospital, a Mr. Johnston, offered me a month’s free rent on a small apartment. I still live there A girl at work, one of the sweetest people I know, named Sue, sort of took me in hand. She showed me the ropes.

“And that’s about all I know. For the last year I’ve been Kathy Connors. Oh, yes… Dave Masters is my psychologist, and Dr. McCalla is my physician. They’re both terribly sweet.”

“I know,” grinned Cindy, “And good-looking, too.”

“Cindy,” I asked, seriously. “You know Darryl—I mean, you knew me when I was Darryl. Was I—Am I…?”

Cindy seemed surprised. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t know. As far as I know, you were always normal. You dated in high school. There was no girl who was terribly important in your life at the time of your disappearance. You would have spoken of her while you were visiting me.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I—.” Dave and Dr. McCalla were just walking in.

“I trust you ladies have had sufficient time to talk,” Dave said. We both nodded yes. “Kathy, your parents are down the hall. Ben and I have had a talk with them. They were pretty shocked, which is a normal reaction. They want to see you now. Is it all right?” I nodded yes again.

When Dr. McCalla and Dave left the room to get my mother and father, Cindy grabbed my hand. “Kathy, do you—do you want to go back to being Darryl, or do you plan to keep on being Kathy? I want to know now, because it may be rough when Mom and Dad get here.”

I looked at Cindy grimly. “I’ve thought about it, and thought about it. I’ve tried to think of myself as Darryl, but I just can’t. I’ve not told either Dave or Dr. McCalla about it, but my decision is to remain Kathy.”

“That’s all I wanted to know,” winked Cindy. “I’m with you all the way. If I can be of any help, let me know.”

“Thanks, I will.”

In just a few minutes Dave and Dr. McCalla escorted my parents into the room. My mother was stocky and short, and my father was tall and lean. They both appeared to be in their fifties. My father didn’t say much, but my mother bustled around as if she were made of energy. “Darryl,” she said when she saw me. “You do look like a girl! But we can fix that… Where is some polish remover?” she demanded as she saw my nails. “George, get me the polish remover from my purse.” My father complied, and my mother began taking my polish off, “I don’t have any scissors with me, Darryl, but when these nails are cut, your hands will look more like a man’s hands. And your hair, of course, will have to be cut.” I winced, and, I could see Cindy, Dave and Dr McCalla were wincing, too. “Mom,” I began—but she wasn’t listening. She had finished my nails and was busy looking in my closet. “These clothes,” she announced, “will have to go.” She unceremoniously tossed my dress, shoes, and underthings into a garbage can. “Luckily, we brought some of your old clothes for you. I don’t want you in those feminine things again. You’re a man, and you’ve going to look and behave like one. George, go get Darryl’s clothes.”

My eyes met Cindy’s. She must have seen the anguish there, for she said, “Mom…” She got no further than I had.

“Oh, no,” wailed that woman when she saw my ears had been pierced. “There’s no helping that, I guess. But at least we can get those earrings out.”

“No!” I shouted, She looked surprised, but only for a moment, “I have no doubt they’ll let you back in State. You were a good student, But we may need to send you to a mil­itary academy to toughen you up. Where is George with those clothes?” I looked at Dave. “Can’t you do something?” I asked.

“Mrs. O’Connor,” said Dave, “We have told Kathy—or Darryl, as the case may be—she has the choice of identity. I’m not at all sure she will want to return to being Darryl.”

“He,” said my mother, “He is Daryl, and that’s that!” She turned as my father came back with a boy’s slacks and shirt and a pair of loafers. “Young man, when you leave here you will wear those clothes, and you will he my son, and that’s is the long and short of it!” She put the down on my bedside table and walked out.

“That woman!” I raged. “Dave, Dr. McCalla, just before you came in here with that—that—with my mother, I told Cindy I wanted to remain as Kathy. That is my decision.”

“That’s fine with us,” said Dr. McCalla. “I just hope we can convince her. I’ll see what I can do.” He left, with Dave just behind him.

Cindy smiled, “Tonight Mom and Dad are staying at my apartment. I’ll talk to them and see what I can do.” She kissed me and left.

My head was spinning round and round. How could I face my mother? She was just impossible! I got out of the bed and picked up the pants. They looked like somebody else’s. I pulled them on under my hospital gown, then took them off and put on the underwear my mother had brought, Cotton felt rough; I was used to nylon. I put the pants back on, then quickly took off my bra and nightgown and put on an undershirt and the shirt my mother had brought. There were some socks; I put them and the loafers on. Reaching up, I took out my earrings and threw them into the wastebasket. My rings went also. I went into the bathroom and wet my hair down as best I could and brushed my curls back. I couldn’t find scissors, or both my hair and my nails would have gone. I looked into the mirror, expecting to see Darryl O’Connor. it looked to me more like Kathy, but a little butch. I shrugged my shoulders. It was the best I could do, I walked into the hall, striding boldly, like a man. My side hurt, but I Ig­nored it. I walked until I came to a door marked Men, took a deep breath, and went in. It was the first Men’s room I would remember going into.

Once inside, I went to a sink and began washing my hands. Suddenly, I felt eyes on me. I looked around to see the intern who had told Sue about me. “How’s my little lady?” he asked. I ignored him. But I couldn’t ignore his arm around me a second later. “I’ve got what you like,” he smirked.

I spun around, “You haven’t got a damned thing I want,” I growled, “and I’ll thank you to leave me the hell alone!”

His face grew ugly and he grabbed me on both sides of the face. “Come on. I’ll show you what you like.” He began pushing my head down. Suddenly I remembered a similar incident, and I know it knew it was from just before I lost my memory. I pushed myself violently away from the intern, started to slap him, then remembered my body was a man’s and punched as hard as I could. I turned and ran out of the bathroom and down the hall and out the door. My side hurt like blazes, and I slowed to a walk in the drizzling rain. I walked, not knowing or caring where I went. My head spun. I felt confused and sick. It seemed my memory was on the verge of returning. I wasn’t sure I wanted it to. My clothes felt like an abomination. I wanted to tear them off, but I couldn’t face going back into the hospital for my dress. I wasn’t sure I should wear the dress. I didn’t want to be a freak. It seemed that as a girl I was a freak, because I had a man’s body, and as a guy I was a freak because I had a girl’s face and a girl’s mind. I just wanted to die.

The only thing that consoled me as I walked, side aching, was the thought of my few, dear friends. There was Cindy, my sweet sister. There was Dave, my understanding psychologist, who could untwist my problems and make them seem simple, There were Dr. McCalla, who had been like a father to me, and Sue. Sue had taken me under her wing when I started to work at Andrews and Andrews. She had plucked my eyebrows into a fine arch, taken me to have my ears pierced and to her beautician for a permanent, and’ had gently suggested I shave my legs. She had helped me to become the person I thought I was, until the day before—Kathy. Now I didn’t know who I was.

I went out into the rain, crying and stumbling, numb with pain.

I remembered falling into the mud, thinking I would die there, wishing I would die there. The next time I opened my eyes, however, was to bright hospital lights.

“Oh,” I said, brightly. A haggard-looking Dave Masters was instantly by my side. “How are you, Kathy?” “Kathy?” I said. “I can’t be Kathy. That woman won’t allow it.”

“I’ve spoken with that woman!,” said Dave, “and she agreed you should be able to choose who you want to be. She was just overjoyed to see you. Remember—she has thought of you as her Darryl all her life. It wasn’t easy for her to think of you as Kathy. But she’s trying. Please give her a chance. Incidentally, that was an extremely stupid thing you did. It could have killed you.”

“Sent Mom in,” I said.

“There’s someone else who is very concerned about you,” said Dave, “and he’ll just take a minute off your time. Can I sent him in?”

“Of course,” I said, “But who—” A bashful Al, the cab driver, entered the room. “I found you, Missee, just like the last time, and not very far from there. I’m glad to hear you’re okay.” He winked. “By the way, I brought you these.” From behind his back he produced a dozen red, beautiful roses.

“Oh, Al!”

“Glad to do it.” He kissed me on the cheek. “You take care. And next time you take a cab, ask for me.” He strode from the room.

The next few days were hectic. Steps were taken to change my name and sex legally. My parents were wonderful, after their initial shock. My mother said I was as pretty as Cindy, and took great delight in shopping for me in the mail-order catalogues.

Dr. McCalla began a program of female hormones for me; he had begun giving them to me earlier, when we all thought I was a female, but now, at the new dose, he assured me my tiny breasts would soon develop into normal-sized ones.

I had several sessions with Dave. My memory was slowly returning. We found out, at the first session, how I came to be wandering in that field. Under hypnosis Dave found that I had gotten off the hue at State, and had walked to my dorm, carrying my suitcase. I had called Cindy from the lobby to tell her I had arrived. But the dorm wasn’t officially open. I had anticipated a couple of quiet days before the new semester started, but with no place to stay, I had decided to go back to Cindy’s. I had started up to my room, but had been touched gently on the shoulder by the dorm supervisor. I knew him, but he didn’t recognize me. “I’m sorry Miss, but ladies, aren’t allowed up.” I had smiled and walked back to the bus station.

There wasn’t a bus leaving for the city that night, however. I foolishly decided to hitchhike into the city. I had gotten a ride part way with a truck driver who had suggested we retire to the sleeper in the back at his truck, and had immediately asked to be let out. He complied, but suggested I didn’t know what I was missing. My next ride had been with a young man who had been polite until we got near the city, and had then brought the car to a stop, grabbed me, and tried to force me to do something unspeakable. When I resisted, he hit me on the side of the head with a big flashlight. I managed to jump out of the car and run away through the fields. I left my suitcase in his car. I’m not sure what ever became of it, but it and my identification hadn’t turned up. He chased me for a time, but gave up. I had panicked then, for I wasn’t sure which way led back to the road, and had wandered around until dark. By the time I was found, my memory was gone.

Dr. McCalla told me I would be a real woman within about six months. I could hardly wait. In the meantime, I was going to keep on working at Andrews and Andrews, and keep my apartment. I decided I might to back to college—some place besides State—eventually. But my real thrill had come on my fourth day its the hospital, when Dave had come into my room with a sheepish look on his face. This was unusual for him. He told me he cared deeply for me. Was I ever shocked! I thought his interest had been wholly professional. He assured me it wasn’t, and that as soon as I was wholly and totally a woman, he would prove it. We became sort of tacitly engaged, even though we had never kissed, and wouldn’t for some time to come. Then would come the day when I could give myself to him in bed—but the time wasn’t yet.

All this took place two years ago. I’m a real woman now. I married Dave. I guess I loved him all along, but didn’t want to admit it to myself. Next year, we’re going to adopt a child. I’ll be a mother. There’ll be PTA, Cub Scout meetings—I’d love to be a den mother—lunches to pack in the mornings. Right now, though, I try to keep Dave’s house for him. We have a two bedroom house just a mile from the hospital.

Tonight Dr. McCalla and Cindy are coming for dinner. Their engagement came as a surprise to me, probably because I thought of Ben as such a father figure. I’m happy. I wouldn’t change things for the world. I am totally Kathy Connors—I mean Masters—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.