"I'll fetch it. And have the nurses swap beds."

"Oh, the nurses can't move my bed. It takes big huskies and a power dolly. Tell Cunningham. But no rush. Speaking of nurses-Winnie, don't you need to wash your hands or something? I want to talk to my doctor."

The redhead smiled at her. "Dear, I've heard everything. Don't mind me."

"Look, Winnie, you did a lovely job on my face when I did not know how. But that's the point, dear. Outside I'm a woman. But up here back of my eyes is still a crabby old man who is far too shy-chicken, I mean-too chicken to discuss intimate matters with a pretty girl present. And I must must."

"Miss Gersten, go to the watch station and take a break. I'll call you."

"Yes, Doctor."

One she was gone Johann said, "You're durn sure all the mikes are dead?"

"We're private, Miss Smith."

"Call me 'Johann,' Doc; this has got to be a man-to-man-and embarra.s.ses me even discussing it with a man. All right, first question: Did I come sick-menstruate-in the last few days?"

Garcia looked surprised. "You twigged? Yes, you are just over your period; we removed a tampon while we were working on you and it was not necessary to replace it. But where did I miss? I thought I had antic.i.p.ated it and had bolshoi painkiller in you in time. You felt cramps?"

"Not a twinge. But things didn't feel feel right . . . and that's when I started getting suspicious about my s.e.x." She looked thoughtful. "Perhaps it was the tampons-I felt something odd down there-and now the feeling is no longer there." right . . . and that's when I started getting suspicious about my s.e.x." She looked thoughtful. "Perhaps it was the tampons-I felt something odd down there-and now the feeling is no longer there."

"Might have been that. I would have used napkin pads, usual hospital practice. But there were just too many bells and whistles-plumbing I mean-in the way. I didn't think you would notice a tampon placed while you were sedated. Contrary to popular belief there is almost no sensation inside a v.a.g.i.n.a."

"So? There d.a.m.n well is in mine mine! I just didn't know what the sensation was."

"Well, the matter has never come up before; your case is unique. Was that all that was troubling you, Miss-sorry! 'Johann.' "

"No. This new body of mine-Has it had a whatchamacallit, a female examination?"

"Oh, certainly. Dr. Kystra, best G-Y-N man in town. Done while you were paralyzed, checked again after your spinal cord fused but done while you were in deep sedation. All okay."

"I want a full report. d.a.m.n it, Doc, I'm in charge of this body now . . . and I know as little about how to be female as my Gross.m.u.tter knew about aircraft. Nothing, that is."

"I can get the report out of file if you want it-"

"I do!"

"-but I can tell it in terms you are more likely to understand. Shall I?"

"Go ahead."

"You have a normal female body, physiological age circa twenty-five-calendar age somewhat older, I understand. b.r.e.a.s.t.s normal virginal-which doesn't mean your body is virgo intacta; it isn't. Just means you haven't suckled a child. No trace of abdominal surgery, from which I conclude that your appendix is in place and your tubes are intact-"

"Meaning I could get pregnant."

"-the latter opinion having been confirmed by insufflation while you were paralyzed. You not only could could get pregnant; you get pregnant; you will will. Unless you live an absolutely chaste life-and even if you plan to, I would still recommend precautionary contraception-say six-month implants in one b.u.t.tock. The best-laid plans of mice and men, you know. And women. Especially women. Since you are Rhnegative, about six-sevenths of the male population could give you a damaged or stillborn child. We can prevent that if we know it in time, but an unexpected pregnancy can turn out tragically. So don't let it be unexpected. Plan it. In the meantime use contraception."

"Doc, what makes you so d.a.m.n sure I'll get pregnant? Even if I get married-which I do not plan on-h.e.l.l, I've had only hours to get used to the notion of being female; I certainly haven't had time to consider being actively actively female. But even so, as the old gal said, 'Shucks, honey, hundreds and hundreds of times ain't nothing happen a-tall.' " female. But even so, as the old gal said, 'Shucks, honey, hundreds and hundreds of times ain't nothing happen a-tall.' "

"If you adjust normally to being a young female, you will be active about it, that's why. Or you will eventually wind up on Dr. Rosenthal's confession couch or some emotional equivalent such as joining a nunnery. Johann, your new body has a normal female hormonal balance; you had better plan accordingly. Even getting your tubes cut is no answer; you might come down with the emotional never-get-overs through regretting it. As for what the old gal said, it doesn't apply. Because of that child you've already had."

"What?" (Boss, why didn't you mind your own business? I could have told you all of this you need to know.) (Shut up, Eunice.) Garcia looked surprised. "You didn't know? I had a.s.sumed that, since this body was that of your secretary, you knew that she had had a child. Or children."

"Not only didn't know it, I don't believe it." Surely the security investigation would have turned up such an obvious fact . . . and G.o.d knows Eunice had never been out of his sight since then long enough to bear a child.

"I'm afraid you will have to believe it, uh, Johann. Striations called stretch marks on belly and b.u.t.tocks-hardly noticeable unless your skin is tanned and then easily concealed by cosmetics. But present. Not definitive, as a woman, or even a male, can get stretch marks from obesity. But characteristic. But the thing that nails it down is that the cervix of the virgin womb does not not look like that of a woman who has borne a child. The difference is so marked that a layman can spot it. I have seen yours. Q.E.D. Could be photographed if you doubt me." look like that of a woman who has borne a child. The difference is so marked that a layman can spot it. I have seen yours. Q.E.D. Could be photographed if you doubt me."

(Drop it, Boss!) "Oh, I believe you, now that you've explained it."

"A comparison photo might be a good idea. Make you more careful. I was not implying any criticism of Mrs. Branca; I was simply warning you that the baby-baking apparatus you inherited from her is in prime shape and ready to be triggered each lunar month. Say about ten days from now."

"I'll be careful."

"Want a lecture on contraception?"

"No." Johann smiled wryly. "Apparently I have at least a week before I need a chast.i.ty girdle."

"Approximately, by statistics. But, uh, Johann. No, 'Miss' Smith-do you know the technical term we physicians use to describe girls who depend on rhythm?"

"No. What?"

"We call them 'mothers.' "

"Oh. Oh Oh!"

"So don't wait too long. Next question?"

"Uh . . . no more today, Doctor; I need to digest what you've told me. Thank you."

"Not at all, Miss Smith. Shall I have them switch beds now?"

"I'll send for Cunningham later; I'd like to rest. Doctor? Could you stick that dingus on my ribs? Then have the nurses stay out a couple of hours?"

"Certainly. If you'll let me raise the safety rails, as this bed is not not only ten inches from the floor." only ten inches from the floor."

"Oh, of course."

10.

(Well, Eunice?) (So you want to hear about my little b.a.s.t.a.r.d? Boss, you're a dirty old man.) (Sweetheart, I don't want to hear anything you don't want to tell. You could have quintuplets by a Barbary ape and it wouldn't affect how I feel about you.) (Mealymouthed old hypocrite. You're dying of curiosity.) (I am like h.e.l.l 'dying of curiosity.' It's your business and yours alone.) (Oh, don't be so mean, Boss. My business is your business. How else? Seeing the close relationship we have . . . and which I like like, if there is any doubt in your dirty old mind. You brought me back to life . . . when I was as dead as folk songs. And now I'm happy. So coax me a little, I'll give.) (All right, dearest-how in the world did you manage to have a baby? When did you find time time? Your snoopsheet traced you clear back through high school.) (Boss, did that security report mention the high school semester I lost from rheumatic fever?) (Let me think. Yes, it did.) (Misspelling. Spell it 'romantic' fever. I was fifteen and a cheerleader. Our basketball team won the regional conference . . . and I felt so good, I got knocked up.) (Eunice, 'knocked up' is not an expression a lady uses.) (Oh, Boss, sometimes you make me sick. By your rules I'm not a lady and never was-and I've got as much right to be inside this skull as you have and maybe more-so you haven't any business trying to force me to talk the way your mother did. Not when I no longer have Joe to turn to when I get tired of your prissy ways.) (I'm sorry, Eunice.) ('Sall right, Boss. I love you. But you and I are cuddled up pretty close; we ought to relax and enjoy it. I can teach you a lot about how to be female, if you'll let me. But right now you listen. Don't interrupt.) The ghost voice started reciting a string of monosyllables, all of them taboo in the faraway days of Johann's youth.

(Eunice! Please, darling, it doesn't become you.) (Pipe down, Boss. I'm going to finish this even if you blow every fuse.) The recitation went on- (That does it, I guess-those are the words I had tagged in my mind never to use in your presence. Now tell me-was there even one one you didn't understand?) you didn't understand?) (That's not the point. A person should not use language which offends others.) (I never did, Boss. In public. But I'm home now-or thought I was. Do you want me to go away again?) (No, no, no! Uh, you were away?) (I certainly was, Boss. Dead. I suppose. But I'm here now and I want to stay. If you'll let me. If I can relax and be happy and not have to be on guard all the time for fear of offending you. I can't see why a Latin polysyllable makes me more a lady than a monosyllable with the same meaning. You and I think with the same brain-yours-eat with the same mouth-mine, or used to be-and pee through the same hole. So why shouldn't we share the same vocabulary? Speaking of peeing-oh, pardon me, sir, I meant to say 'micturition'-) (None of your sarcasm, girl!) (Just who are you calling a 'girl,' girlie? Feel yourself, go ahead and feel. Some knockers, eh, Boss?-and how you used to stare at them, you h.o.r.n.y old goat. Made me tingle. But I was saying, speaking of micturition, that we are going to have to ring for a bedpan fairly soon, now that we no longer are rigged with plumbing . . . and there is no way for me to leave the room while you pee. I don't dare leave; it's dark dark out there and I might not find my way back. So it's either get used to such things-or send me away forever-or bust your nice new bladder.) out there and I might not find my way back. So it's either get used to such things-or send me away forever-or bust your nice new bladder.) (Okay, Eunice, you've made your point.) (Have I offended you again, Boss?) (Eunice, you have never never offended me. Sometimes you have startled me, sometimes you have surprised me and often delighted me. But you have offended me. Sometimes you have startled me, sometimes you have surprised me and often delighted me. But you have never never offended me. Not even with that list of blunt words.) offended me. Not even with that list of blunt words.) (Well . . . as I saw it, if you already knew them, you couldn't really be offended; if you didn't understand them, then you couldn't possibly possibly be offended.) be offended.) (All right, dear. I'll quit trying to correct your speech. But for the record-I used all those words long before your mother was born. Possibly before your grandmother was born.) (Grandma is sixty-eight). (Learned 'em all and used them with relish long before your grandmother was born-with relish because they were sinful, then. I take it they aren't, to you kids now.) (No, they're just words. Short-talk.) (Not short-talk, as they were used before video corrupted the language. Except-What was that one word? 'Frimp'?) (Oh. Shouldn't have included that one, Boss; it's not a cla.s.sic word. Current slang, swing talk. It's a general verb, one which includes every possible way to copulate-) (Pfui! You youngsters. When I was a kid, we had at least two dozen words meaning 'frimp,' some new, some old besides the standard taboo words for it.) (You didn't let me finish, Boss.-every possible way to hook up two or more bodies-any number-of any s.e.x, or combinations of all six s.e.xes, and including far-out variations that would shock you right out of this bed. But swing is a today scene, so it's not surprising you hadn't heard the word 'frimp' before.) (Oh, I'd heard it. I have news for you, infant.) (Yes, sir? I mean 'Yes, Miss Smith,' dearie. 'Miss' Smith-what a giggle I got when I first heard it. But it's nice, since it means both of us. Say, Rosy is all right, isn't he? Puts more into hand-kissing than some studs do into a romp on the pad.) (Sweetheart, you not only have a dirty mind-but it veers.) (How can I help having a dirty mind when it's actually yours yours, Boss-I'm hip deep in the stuff.) (Shut up, Eunice; it's my turn. The swing scene is nothing new. The Greeks had a word for it. So did the Romans. And so on through history. The orgy was .relished in Victorian England. It was far from unknown in my youth in the heart of the Bible Belt, even though it was dangerous in those days. Eunice, as long as we are trying to get easy with each other, let me say this: Anything you've ever seen, or tried, or heard of, I did, or had done to me, before your grandmother was born-and if I liked it, I did it again and again and again again. No matter how risky.) The second voice was silent a moment. (Maybe we simply start younger today. Less risk and fewer rules.) (Beg to doubt.) (Oh, I'm sure we do. I told you how young I was when I got caught. Fifteen. And I started a year younger.) (Eunice my love, the main difference between the young and the old, the cause of the so-called Generation Gap-a gap in understanding that has existed throughout all time-is that the young simply cannot believe that the old ever really were young . . . whereas to an old person his youth is something that happened just last week, and it annoys the h.e.l.l out of him when someone in effect denies that this old duffer ever owned owned a youth.) a youth.) (Boss?) The thought was gentle and soft.

(Yes, dearest?) (Boss, I always knew you were young underneath, behind all those horrid liver spots-knew it when I was alive, I mean . . . and wished dreadfully that you weren't old and sick in your body. It hurt me so, to see you hurt. Sometimes I went home and cried. Especially when it made you cross and you would say something you didn't mean and then be sorry. I wanted wanted you to get well . . . and knew you couldn't. I was one of the first to sign up-Joe and I both-as soon as word reached us through the Rare Blood Club. Couldn't do it sooner or you might have found out-and forbidden me to.) you to get well . . . and knew you couldn't. I was one of the first to sign up-Joe and I both-as soon as word reached us through the Rare Blood Club. Couldn't do it sooner or you might have found out-and forbidden me to.) (Eunice, Eunice!) (Don't you believe me?) (Yes, darling, yes . . . but you're making us cry.) (So blow your nose, Boss, and stop it. Because everything turned out all right. all right. Look, you wanted to hear about my little b.a.s.t.a.r.d-will that take your mind off troubles we no longer have?) Look, you wanted to hear about my little b.a.s.t.a.r.d-will that take your mind off troubles we no longer have?) (Uh . . . only if you want to, Eunice. My love. My only love.) (I made it plain that I wanted wanted to tell you, didn't I? I'll tell all-and that'll take a long time!-if you want to hear. If you won't be shocked. Say 'Please,' Boss-because the details of my s.e.x life ought to help you in handling your own s.e.x life. to tell you, didn't I? I'll tell all-and that'll take a long time!-if you want to hear. If you won't be shocked. Say 'Please,' Boss-because the details of my s.e.x life ought to help you in handling your own s.e.x life. Our Our s.e.x life, that is. Or did you mean that stuff you were shoveling at Dr. Garcia about not being 'actively female'?) s.e.x life, that is. Or did you mean that stuff you were shoveling at Dr. Garcia about not being 'actively female'?) (Uh . . . I don't know, Eunice, I haven't been a woman long enough to know what what I want. Shucks, darling, instead of thinking like a girl I'm still ogling girls. That little redheaded nurse, for example.) I want. Shucks, darling, instead of thinking like a girl I'm still ogling girls. That little redheaded nurse, for example.) (So I noticed.) (Was that sarcasm? Or jealousy?) (What? I do not intend to be sarcastic, Boss dear; I don't want us ever to be nasty with each other. And jealousy is just a word in the dictionary to me. I simply meant that, when Winnie was making up our face and you were sneaking a peek down the neck of her smock every time she leaned over, I was staring as hard as you were. No bra. Cute ones, aren't they? Winnie is female and knows it. If you were male in your body as well as in your head, I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw a bed.) (I thought you said you weren't jealous?) (I'm not. I merely meant that Winnie. would trip you and beat you to the floor. But I was not criticizing her. I've nothing against girls. A girl can be quite a blast.) Johann was slow in answering. (Eunice, uh, were you implying that you have-used to have-relations with other, uh-) (Oh, Boss, don't be so early-twentieth-century; we've turned the corner on the twenty-first. Tell it bang. Do you mean 'Am I a Lez?' h.o.m.os.e.xual?) (No, not at all! Well, perhaps I did mean that in a way. At least I wanted you to clear up what you you meant. As it didn't seem possible. You were married and-or was your marriage just a cover-up? I suppose-) meant. As it didn't seem possible. You were married and-or was your marriage just a cover-up? I suppose-) (Quit supposing, dear. Bang. I was not h.o.m.os.e.xual and neither is Joe. Joe is a tomcat always ready to yowl, and wonderful at it. Except when he's painting; then he forgets everything else. But 'h.o.m.os.e.xual' isn't a word that bothers anyone my age, either the word or the fact. And why not, with the Government practically subsidizing it with propaganda about too many babies that starts in kindergarten? If I had taken the Bilitis pledge, I would never have had that phony 'rheumatic fever.' But, while girls are cuddly and I've never had any inhibitions about them, I was-always-far too interested in boys to live on Gay Street. But which team are you on, Boss? One minute you're telling me how you drool over Winnie, the next minute you seem upset that I drooled, too. So what are you going to do with us, dear? Left-handed? Right-handed? Both hands? Or no hands at all? I guess I could stand anything but the last. Do I have a vote?) (Why, of course you do.) (I wonder, Boss. You sputtered when I suggested that you could thank Doc Hedrick in bed . . . and sparked some more at the notion of going to bed with a girl. Sure you're not planning on sewing it up?) (Oh, Eunice, don't talk silly! Beloved, happy as I am that we are together, that 'Generation Gap' is still there. My fault this time, as I have a lifelong habit of being careful in what I say to a woman, even one I am in bed with-) (You're certainly in bed with me! me!) (I certainly am. And I'm finding it ever harder to be flatly truthful with you-'tell it bang' as you say-than it is to adjust to being female. But before Dr. Hedrick brought up the matter I saw the implications-and complications-and consequences-of being female . . . and young . . . and rich.) ('Rich.' I hadn't thought about that that one.) one.) (Eunice beloved, we're going to have have to think about it. Of course we're going to be 'actively female'-) to think about it. Of course we're going to be 'actively female'-) (Hooray!) (Quiet, dear. If we were poor, the simplest thing would be to ask your Joe to take us back. If he would have us. But we aren't aren't poor; we're embarra.s.singly rich-and a fortune is harder to get rid of than it is to acc.u.mulate. Believe me. When I was about seventy-five, I tried to unload my wealth while I was still living so that it would not go to my granddaughters. But to give away money without wasting most of it in the process is as difficult as getting the genie back into the bottle. So I gave up and simply arranged my will to keep most of it out of the hands of my alleged descendants.) poor; we're embarra.s.singly rich-and a fortune is harder to get rid of than it is to acc.u.mulate. Believe me. When I was about seventy-five, I tried to unload my wealth while I was still living so that it would not go to my granddaughters. But to give away money without wasting most of it in the process is as difficult as getting the genie back into the bottle. So I gave up and simply arranged my will to keep most of it out of the hands of my alleged descendants.) ('Alleged'?) (Alleged. Eunice, my first wife was a sweet girl, much like yourself, I think. But the poor dear died in childbirth-bearing my one son, also dead for many years now. Agnes had made me promise to marry again and I did, almost at once. One daughter from that marriage and her mother divorced me before the child was a year old. I married a third time-again one daughter, again a divorce. I never knew my daughters well and outlived both of them and their mothers. But-Eunice, you're a rare-blood yourself; do you know how blood types are inherited?) (Not really.) (Thought you might. Being mathematically inclined, the first time I laid eyes on an inheritance chart for blood types I understood it as well as I understand the multiplication tables. Having lost my first wife to childbirth, with both my second and third wives I made certain that donors were at hand before they went into delivery rooms. Second wife was type A, third was type B-years later I learned that both my putative daughters were type O.) (I think I missed something, Boss.) (Eunice, it is impossible for a type-AB father to sire type-O children. Now wait-I did not not hold it against my daughters; it was none of their doing. I would have loved Evelyn and Roberta-tried to, wanted to-but their mothers kept me away from them and turned them against me. Neither girl had any use for me . . . until it turned out that I was going to dispose of a lot of money someday-and then the switch from honest dislike to phony 'affection' was nauseating. I feel no obligation to my granddaughters since in fact they are hold it against my daughters; it was none of their doing. I would have loved Evelyn and Roberta-tried to, wanted to-but their mothers kept me away from them and turned them against me. Neither girl had any use for me . . . until it turned out that I was going to dispose of a lot of money someday-and then the switch from honest dislike to phony 'affection' was nauseating. I feel no obligation to my granddaughters since in fact they are not not my granddaughters. Well? What do you think?) my granddaughters. Well? What do you think?) (Uh-Boss, I don't see any need to comment.) (So? Who was it not five minutes ago was saying that we ought to be absolutely frank with each other?) (Well . . . I don't disagree with your conclusion, Boss, just with how you reached it. I don't see that heredity should enter into it. Seems to me you are resenting something that happened a long time ago-and that's not good. Not good for you, Boss.) (Child, you don't know what you're talking about.) (Maybe not.) (No 'maybes' about it. A baby is a baby. Babies are to love and take care of and that's what this whole b.l.o.o.d.y mess is about, else none of it makes sense. Eunice, I told you that my first wife was something like you. Agnes was my Annabel Lee and we loved with a love that was more than a love and I had her for only a year-then she died giving me my son. Then I loved him him just as much. When he was killed something died inside me . . . and I made a foolish fourth marriage hoping to bring it alive again by having another son. But I was lucky that time-no children and it merely cost me a chunk of money to get shut of it.) just as much. When he was killed something died inside me . . . and I made a foolish fourth marriage hoping to bring it alive again by having another son. But I was lucky that time-no children and it merely cost me a chunk of money to get shut of it.) (I'm sorry, Boss.) (Nothing to be sorry about now. But I was telling you something else-Eunice, when we're up and around, remind me to dig into my jewelry case and show you my son's 'dog tag'-all that I have left of him.) (If you want to. But isn't that morbid, dear? Look forward, not back.) (Depends on how you look back. I don't grieve over him; I'm proud of him. He died honorably, fighting for his country. But that military dog tag shows his blood type. Type O.) (Oh.) (Yes, I said 'O'. So my son was no more my physical descendant than were my daughters. Didn't keep me from loving him.) (Yes, but-you learned it from his identification tag? After he was dead?) (Like h.e.l.l I did. I knew it the day he was born; I had suspected that he might not be mine from the time Agnes turned out to be pregnant-and I accepted it. Eunice, I wore horns with dignity and always kept suspicions to myself. Just as well-as all my wives contributed to my cornute state. Horns? Branching antlers! The husband who expects anything else is riding for a fall. But I never had illusions about it, so it never took me by surprise. No reason why it should, as I got the best parts of my own training from married women, starting clear back in my early teens. I think that happens in every generation. But horns make a man's head ache only when he's stupid enough to believe that his his wife is different-when all the evidence he has acc.u.mulated should cause him to a.s.sume the exact opposite.) wife is different-when all the evidence he has acc.u.mulated should cause him to a.s.sume the exact opposite.) (Boss, you think all all women are like that?) women are like that?) (Oh, no! In my youth I knew many married couples in which both bride and groom-to the best of my knowledge and belief-went to the altar virgin and stayed faithful a lifetime. There may be couples like that among you kids today.) (Some, I think. But you couldn't prove it by me.) (Nor by me. Nor by all the kinseys who ever collected statistics. Eunice, s.e.x is the one subject everybody everybody lies about. But what I was saying is this: A man who takes his fun where he finds it, then marries and expects his wife to be different, is a fool. I wasn't that sort of fool. Let me tell you about Agnes. lies about. But what I was saying is this: A man who takes his fun where he finds it, then marries and expects his wife to be different, is a fool. I wasn't that sort of fool. Let me tell you about Agnes.

(Agnes was an angel-with round heels. That's obsolete slang which means what it sounds like. I don't think Agnes ever hated anyone in her short life and she loved as easily as she breathed. She-Eunice, you said you had started young?) (Fourteen, Boss. Precocious s.l.u.t, huh?) (Precocious possibly, a s.l.u.t never. Nor was my angel Agnes ever a s.l.u.t and she happily gave away her virginity-so she told me-at twelve. I-) ('Twelve!') (Surprised, dear? That Generation Gap again; your generation thinks it invented s.e.x. Agnes was precocious; sixteen was fairly young in those days, from what a male could guess about it-not much!-and seventeen or eighteen was more common. I think. Actually encountering female virginity and being certain certain of it-well, I'm no expert. But Agnes wasn't hanging up a record even for those days; I recall a girl in my grammar school who was 'putting out,' as kids called it then, at eleven-and getting away with it cold, teacher's pet and b.u.t.ter wouldn't melt in her mouth and winning pins for Sunday School attendance. of it-well, I'm no expert. But Agnes wasn't hanging up a record even for those days; I recall a girl in my grammar school who was 'putting out,' as kids called it then, at eleven-and getting away with it cold, teacher's pet and b.u.t.ter wouldn't melt in her mouth and winning pins for Sunday School attendance.

(My darling Agnes was like that except that Agnes's goodness wasn't pretense; she was good all the way through. She simply didn't see anything sinful about s.e.x.) (Boss, s.e.x is not not sinful.) sinful.) (Did I ever ever say it was? However, in those days I felt guilty about it, until Agnes cured me of such nonsense. She was sixteen and I was twenty and her father was a prof at the cow college I went to and I was invited to their house for dinner one Sunday night-and our first time happened on their living room sofa so fast it startled me, scared me some.) say it was? However, in those days I felt guilty about it, until Agnes cured me of such nonsense. She was sixteen and I was twenty and her father was a prof at the cow college I went to and I was invited to their house for dinner one Sunday night-and our first time happened on their living room sofa so fast it startled me, scared me some.) (What frightened you, dear? Her parents?) (Well, yes. Just upstairs and probably not asleep. Agnes being so young herself-age of consent was eighteen then and while I don't recall ever letting it stop me, boys were jumpy about it. And that night I wasn't prepared, not having expected it.) (Prepared how, Boss?) (Contraception. I had a year to go to get my degree, and no money and no job lined up, and having to get married wasn't something I relished.) (But contraception is a girl's responsibility, Boss. That's why I felt so silly when I got caught. I wouldn't have dreamed of asking a boy to marry me on that account-even if I had been certain which boy. Once I knew I was caught I gritted my teeth and told my parents and took my scolding-Daddy was going to have to pay my fine; I was not yet licensed. Grim-but no talk of getting married. I wasn't asked who did it and never volunteered an opinion.) (Didn't you have an opinion, Eunice?) (Well . . . just an opinion. Let me tell it bang. Our basketball team and us three girl cheerleaders were all in the same hotel, with the coach and the girls' phys-ed teacher riding herd on us. Only they didn't; they went out on the town. So we gathered to celebrate in the suite the boys were in. Somebody had lettuce. Marijuana. I took two puffs and didn't like it-and went back to gin and ginger ale which tasted better and was almost as new to me. Didn't have any intention of swinging; it wasn't the smart scene at our school and I had a steady I was faithful to-well, usually-who wasn't on the trip. But when the head cheerleader took her clothes off-well, there it was. So I counted days in my mind and decided I was safe by two days and peeled down, last of the three to do so. n.o.body made me do it, Boss, no slightest flavor of rape. So how could I blame the boys?

(Only it turned out I didn't have two days leeway and by the middle of January I was fairly certain. Then I was certain. Then my parents were certain-and I was sent south to stay with an aunt while I recovered from rheumatic fever I never had. And recovered two hundred sixty-nine days after that championship game, barely in time to enter school in the fall. And graduated with my cla.s.s.) (But your baby baby, Eunice? Boy? Girl? How old now? Twelve? And where is the child?) (Boss, I don't know. I signed an adoption waiver so that Daddy would get his money back if somebody with a baby license came along. Boss, is that fair? Five thousand dollars was a lot of money to my father-yet anyone on Welfare gets off free, or can even demand a free abortion. I can't see it.) (You changed the subject, dear. Your baby?) (Oh. They told me it was born dead. But I hear they usually say that if a girl signs the papers and somebody is waiting for it.) (We can find out. If your baby didn't live, then the fine was never levied. Didn't your father tell you?) (I never asked. It was a touchy subject, Boss. It was 'rheumatic fever,' never an unlicensed baby. Just as well, I guess, as when I turned eighteen, I was licensed for three with no questions raised.) (Eunice, no matter what cover-up was used, if your baby is living, we can find it!) The second voice did not answer. Johann persisted. (Well, Eunice?) (Boss . . . it's better to let the dead past bury its dead.) (You don't want children, Eunice?) (That wasn't what I said. You said it didn't matter that your son wasn't really yours. I think you were right. But doesn't it cut both ways? If there is a child somewhere, almost thirteen now-we're strangers. I'm not the mother who loved it and brought it up; I'm n.o.body. Really Really n.o.body-you forget that I was killed.) n.o.body-you forget that I was killed.) (Eunice! Oh, darling!) (You see? If we found that boy, or girl, we couldn't admit that I'm still alive-alive again, I mean-inside your head. That's the thing we don't dare dare admit . . . or back they come with those horrid straps and we'll admit . . . or back they come with those horrid straps and we'll never never be free.) She sighed. (But I wish I could have had be free.) She sighed. (But I wish I could have had your your baby. You were telling me about Agnes, dearest. Tell me more. Am I really somewhat like her?) baby. You were telling me about Agnes, dearest. Tell me more. Am I really somewhat like her?) (Very much like her, Eunice. Oh, I don't mean she looked like you. But if I believed in reincarnation-I don't-I would be tempted to think that you were Agnes, come back to me.) (Maybe I am. Why don't you believe in it, Boss?) (Uh . . . do you?) (No. I mean I didn't didn't believe in it, even though most of our friends did. I couldn't see any reason to believe either way, so I kept my mouth shut. But, Boss, it gives one a different viewpoint to have been killed . . . and then turn out not to stay dead. Dearest Boss-you think I'm a figment of your imagination, don't you?) believe in it, even though most of our friends did. I couldn't see any reason to believe either way, so I kept my mouth shut. But, Boss, it gives one a different viewpoint to have been killed . . . and then turn out not to stay dead. Dearest Boss-you think I'm a figment of your imagination, don't you?) Johann did not answer. The voice went on: (Don't be afraid to admit it, Boss; you won't offend me. I I know I'm know I'm me. me. I don't need proof. But you do. You need to know. Admit it, darling. Be open with me.) I don't need proof. But you do. You need to know. Admit it, darling. Be open with me.) She sighed again. (Eunice, I do need to know. But-if I'm crazy-if you are just my own mind talking back to me-I'd rather not know it. Darling, forgive me . . . but I was relieved when you told me that you didn't want us to try to find your baby.) (I knew you were relieved . . . and I knew why. Boss, don't be so right-now. We have all the time in the world, so relax and be happy. Proof will turn up-something I know and that you couldn't possibly know except through me. And that will be that, and you will be as certain as I am.) She nodded to herself. (That makes sense, Eunice-and it sounds like the scoldings you used to give me when I got fretful. You used to mother me.) (I'm going to go right on mothering you, and scolding you when you need it-and loving you all the time, Boss. But there is one thing there is some hurry about.) (What?) (That bedpan. Unless you want us to have a childish accident.) (Oh, d.a.m.n!) (Relax, Boss. Get used to it.) (d.a.m.nation, I do not not want to be placed on a bedpan by a nurse like a baby being put to potty. You know what'll happen? Nothing! I'll clamp down and not be able to do it. Eunice, there's my bathroom through that door-can't we ask to be helped into there . . . and left in private?) want to be placed on a bedpan by a nurse like a baby being put to potty. You know what'll happen? Nothing! I'll clamp down and not be able to do it. Eunice, there's my bathroom through that door-can't we ask to be helped into there . . . and left in private?) (Boss, you know what would happen. You ring for the nurse and tell her. She'll try to argue you out of it. Then she'll go find Dr. Garcia. He'll show up and argue, too. If you're stubborn, he'll get Jake. By the time Jake shows up, we've wet the bed.) (Eunice, you're infuriating. All right, let's ring for that G.o.ddam pan.) (Hold it, Boss. Can we get this side rail down?) (Huh?) (If we can, what's stopping us from going to the bathroom without asking?) (But, Eunice-I haven't walked in more than a year!) (That was before you got this secondhand, good-as-new, factory-reconditioned, female body, Boss.) (You think we can walk?) (Let's find out. If standing up makes us dizzy, we can hang onto the bed and ease down to the floor. I'm certain certain we can crawl, Boss.) we can crawl, Boss.) (Let's do it!) (Let's see how this side rail works.) Johann found the guard rails baffling. There seemed to be no way for a person in the bed to let them down. Not surprising, she told herself; if these bars were meant to protect a befuddled patient, then proper design called for it to be impossible for a patient to remove them. (Eunice, we're going to have to ring for the nurse. d.a.m.n!) (Don't give up, Boss. Maybe it's a b.u.t.ton on the console. If we scrooch around till our head is at the foot, I think we can reach the console.) So Johann pulled up her knees and twisted and switched ends-and was surprised and delighted at how limber her new body was. Then she stretched her right arm through the bars at the foot of the bed, could not quite reach the console-and cussed, and then discovered how the side rails locked-two simple catches, one for each side, at the foot of the bed below the springs, out of reach (no doubt the designer thought) of any patient ill enough to need the side rails.

She thumbed open the leftside catch; the rail, counterweighted, pushed down easily. She giggled. (How're we doing, partner?) (Fine so far, Boss. Hang onto the end of the bed while we get our feet down. Keel over and they'll put us in a wet pack-so hang on!) Johann got her feet to the floor, stood trembling while she clung to the bed. (Dizzy.) (Of course. It will go away. Steady down, dear. Boss, I think we could walk . . . but let's play safe and crawl. If we get dizzy again and take a dive on the rug, Winnie will be in here like a shot-and from then on they'll feed us through the bars. What do you think?) (I think we had better reach that pot p.r.o.nto before we have to blame it on the cat. We crawl.) Getting to the floor was no problem; crawling was another matter, she caught her knees on the hospital gown. So she sat up-Johann discovered that her new body folded easily and naturally into a contortion young Johann had found difficult at twelve.

She did not stop to wonder. The bed jacket was no trouble; it fastened in front with a magnostrip, she shrugged it off and laid it aside. But the hospital gown fastened in back. (Stickstrip?) (Just a tie-tie. Feels like a bow knot. Careful, Boss, don't snarl it.) The gown joined the jacket. Unenc.u.mbered now, Johann resumed crawling. The bath-dressing room door snapped out of her way and she reached her objective.

Presently she sighed in relief. (I feel better.) (That makes two of us. Want to try walking back? As far as we have something to grab onto? Or clear to the bed if we whistle a chair and have it roll in front of us.) (I'm game.) Johann found that she was not unsteady on her feet-walking was easier than it had been for twenty years. Nevertheless she stayed close to the walls, the bathroom having been equipped years ago with grab rails for a frail old man grimly afraid of falling. It took her close to a tall three-way mirror in the dressing room end. She stopped.

Then she stepped into the central spot and looked at herself. (My G.o.d, Eunice, but you're beautiful!) (My G.o.d, but we're a sloppy b.i.t.c.h! Boss, look at those toenails! Claws. Talons. And, oh dear, my b.r.e.a.s.t.s sag! And my belly is positively flabby.) (Beautiful. Utterly gorgeous. Eunice beloved, I always wanted to see you stark naked. And now I do.) (So you do. I wish I had had time to get looking nice before you saw me. Hair a mess. And-yes, I thought so. We stink.) (Hey!) (Sorry, hit the panic b.u.t.ton by mistake. Boss, we're going to have a hot, soapy bath before we get back into that bed. That's straight from Washington. We can't do much about flab in one day-but we can get clean.) She turned and inspected her b.u.t.tocks. (Oh, dear! A broad should be broad-but not that that broad.) (Eunice, that's the prettiest f.a.n.n.y in the state. In the whole country.) (Used to be, maybe. And it's going to be again and that's a promise, Boss. Tomorrow morning we start systematic exercise. Tighten up everything.) (Okay, if you say so-though I still say you're the most gorgeously beautiful thing I ever saw in my life. Uh, Eunice? That mermaid getup you wore once-You were wearing a trick bra with it . . . weren't you?) broad.) (Eunice, that's the prettiest f.a.n.n.y in the state. In the whole country.) (Used to be, maybe. And it's going to be again and that's a promise, Boss. Tomorrow morning we start systematic exercise. Tighten up everything.) (Okay, if you say so-though I still say you're the most gorgeously beautiful thing I ever saw in my life. Uh, Eunice? That mermaid getup you wore once-You were wearing a trick bra with it . . . weren't you?) She giggled. (Heavens, no. Just me, Boss. And paint. But my b.r.e.a.s.t.s were firm as rocks then; Joe had something to work with. I guess that's the nakedest you've ever seen me.) (What do you think I'm staring at now now, Beautiful?) (Oh, I meant back before I was killed. When I was your 'nice' girl who didn't dare let you see me as naked as I knew you would like, you dirty old man. Although you could could have seen me naked-and much more beautiful-any time you had gotten up the nerve to ask.) have seen me naked-and much more beautiful-any time you had gotten up the nerve to ask.) (I'm going to spend hours every day standing right here and staring.) (No reason why you shouldn't, dear; it's your body now. But let's put an exercise mat on the floor and get in that toning up at the same time. Most exercises can be done better with the aid of a full-length mirror. I think we-) The door snapped open. "Miss Smith!"

Johann started with surprise, then answered savagely, "Miss Gersten, what the devil do you mean by bursting into my bath without knocking?"

The nurse ignored the outburst, hurried to her patient, put an arm around her. "Lean on my shoulder, let's get you back into bed. Oh, dear, I don't know what Dr. Garcia will say! He'll kill me-are you all right?" Johann saw that the little nurse was about to cry.

"Of course I'm all right." Johann tried to shrug off the arm, found that the girl was stronger than she looked. "You didn't answer."

The nurse did cry then. "Oh, please, dear, don't argue with me! Let's get you into bed before you hurt yourself. Maybe Dr. Garcia won't be quite so angry."

Seeing that the younger woman was most unprofessionally disturbed, Johann let herself be urged out into the bedroom and to the bed. The little redhead caught her breath. "There! Now if you'll hold tight around my neck, I can get your legs up-you bad, bad girl! To worry me so!"

Johann did not cooperate. "Winnie."

"Yes, dear? Oh, do let me get you into bed! Doctor will be terribly angry."

"Not so fast. If you're planning on telling teacher, go do it. I can hang onto the bed, I won't fall."

The nurse looked desperate. "Are you trying to get me fired, Miss? Maybe blacklisted? What have I ever done to you?"

"Winnie dear."

"Yes?"

"You aren't going to say a word to Dr. Garcia." Johann slid an arm around the redhead's waist. "Are you?"

The nurse looked fl.u.s.tered but did not pull away. "Well, I should. I'm supposed to report everything."

"But you aren't going to. And I'm not going to tell him, either. Tight secret, just you and me. And no huhu for anyone."

"Well . . . I won't if you won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Johann kissed her. Winnie did not dodge but seemed startled and somewhat timid. Then she caught her breath and her lips opened and the kiss progressed rapidly.

The nurse pulled her mouth free and said huskily, "I could get fired almost as quickly for this. this." She did not say what "this" was. She ignored the fact that Johann's free hand was cupping one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"So we'll stop and I'll get into bed-no, don't help me; I don't need it."

Johann proved it by doing it. The nurse pulled the sheet over her, at once resumed her professional persona persona. "Now let's put our clothes back on, shall we?" She stooped to retrieve them. "What a naughty girl, throwing her clothes on the floor. And giving me such a fright."

"Stuff 'em in the hamper. I'm not going to wear them."

"Now, now, dear. You needn't wear the jacket. Just the gown. Or do you want a fresh one?"

"Winnie, I'm not going to wear those silly angel robes ever again, so chuck it. You can hang up the jacket. But I won't wear a hospital gown. I'll stay raw."

"Dr. Garcia-"

"Quit threatening me with Dr. Garcia. We're past that. Aren't we?"

The nurse bit her lip. "Well . . . yes."

"It's none of his business if I sleep raw. And I shall, until something more appropriate can be bought for me. Or-Do you sleep in the house? Maybe you could lend me a nightie. A girl-type nightgown."

"Well, yes, I sleep here. But I can't lend you a gown because, well-I sleep raw myself."

"Sensible."

"But there are nightgowns and negligees and things right here. In your dressing room."

"Be d.a.m.ned. Who ordered them?"

"I don't know, Miss Smith. They were brought in and stored there when, well, when it became clear that you were going to need them."

"Good planning. Uh, do you know if they're my size? Whatever that size is, I don't know myself."

"Oh, yes! I helped measure you."

"More good planning. Find me the most feminine nightgown in there-I might as well practice."

"Glad to." The nurse left the bedroom.

(Butch.) (Oh, nonsense, Eunice. Sure, she's a cute little trick . . . but I simply suddenly realized what treatment she would respond to. Had to dig back into my memory; I'm out of practice.) ('Butch' I said. You enjoyed it.) (Didn't you you enjoy it?) (Sure I did. She kisses like don't-stop. But I'm not a hypocrite about it. enjoy it?) (Sure I did. She kisses like don't-stop. But I'm not a hypocrite about it. Who Who was shocked when I said girls could be a blast? You, you dirty old hypocrite. And butch.) was shocked when I said girls could be a blast? You, you dirty old hypocrite. And butch.) (Eunice, you are out of your frimping mind. I've had most of a century to appreciate girls; do you expect me to change overnight? The time I'll feel like a queer is the first time some man man kisses us. I'll probably faint.) (Poor Boss. Doesn't know whether he's A.C. or D.C. Never mind, dear, Eunice will coach you-as I kisses us. I'll probably faint.) (Poor Boss. Doesn't know whether he's A.C. or D.C. Never mind, dear, Eunice will coach you-as I do do know how to kiss a man.) know how to kiss a man.) (I imagine you do.) (Was there salt in that one? Never mind, I know how. He He faints. Boss, you claimed you had done everything. faints. Boss, you claimed you had done everything. Everything Everything?) (See here, little snoopy, I am not going to give you any excuse to call me both 'butch' and 'pansy' in the same sentence. You can have my memoirs later. But, Eunice, speaking of 'butch,' is that what Winnie is? She certainly responded.) (More 'sweetheart' than 'butch' is my guess, though she may stroll both sides of Gay Street. But if you were asking 'Is she a Lez?' then I would bet anything she's not. Ambi, sure, but much much more interested in men. Haven't you watched her? Sparks.) more interested in men. Haven't you watched her? Sparks.) Winnie returned with a nightgown in each hand. "I think these two are the prettiest, Miss Smith. I thought-"

"Winnie."

"Yes, Miss Smith?"

"No 'Miss Smith.' I mean you are not to call me 'Miss Smith.' Not after kissing me. Or did I get the message wrong?" (Butch.) (Shut up, Eunice. She's going to help us.) The nurse said nothing, blushed.

Johann said gently, "That's answer enough, dear. So call me-no, d.a.m.n it, I don't want you to call me 'Johann.' I need a new name. Winnie dear, what girl's name is closest to 'Johann'?"