Ginger Fox

I spent ten months in seclusion in Switzerland after Jonathan ordered me to distance myself from everyone, between rehabilitation clinics and plastic surgery clinics. My body was sore, recovering from surgery, adjusting to female hormones... James was dying and I was being born. But I couldn’t see myself, I didn’t look at myself, I didn’t want mirrors, I didn’t want to see my reflection. I was afraid to look and not know if it was really me until I was completely ready. That day came along with my return home. It was like looking at my shadow, as if for the first time I saw a sketch of my soul reflected in that mirror image.
The tips of my fingers rise, touching with fear the long, blonde hair now on my head. The pink lipstick on my lips matches my skin tone. I quickly avert my gaze, feeling my heart beat so hard, as if it might tear from my chest. But I need to look at her, I need to see the image there, for that reflection is the truth I’ve locked away for years. The full breasts, the Adam’s apple no longer in my throat, the slim waist accentuating my hips and highlighting the black dress.
"She’s beautiful, isn’t she?" The makeup artist, who is in the room, walks over, stopping behind me and smiling.
Yes, she is!
Her rosy skin from the blush accentuates her cheeks, the smoky black eyeshadow highlights her long lashes with mascara. Yes, she is truly beautiful. My soul is beautiful, so delicate and free. I feel something I’ve never felt in twenty-two years; I am filled with happiness.
"What do you think her name is?" I let the words slip softly. The makeup artist’s eyes blink quickly, admiring the strange woman in the mirror’s reflection with me.
"Seductive, very seductive and sexy," she whispers calmly. I feel my cheeks flush from the compliment. "But delicate, as perfect as a doll. She must have a name that suits her."
"Baby... We should call her Baby," I whisper, admiring myself. Baby will be a good name.
A smile spreads across my lips as I walk towards the door. No longer James Roy, he died of an overdose in some dark alley full of rats. And Baby was born to be the woman she has always been. It’s time to go home.



***



“James was self-destructive; he was killing both of us.” I open my eyes, exhaling deeply. I look at the little one sitting at the edge of my bed.
Gim hasn’t said a word while I was telling her the truth about James; she just sat quietly, looking bashfully at the window.
“Gim, it’s still me. Baby.” I reach out to touch her hand, but her body moves quickly, repelling my approach.
“Lorane? How did she find out?” I’m in panic, my heart racing. I feel fear gripping me; I don’t want her to push me away.
Her thin arms wrap around her body as she walks around the room. Her back is turned to me, leaving me to see only her heavy breathing.
“Lorane was the only one who didn’t believe James was dead. The surgeries changed my body, my face, but they couldn’t change my eyes. When she looked at me, she knew the truth.”
“Oh God, this is too much!” Gim clutches her arms tighter, whispering to me. “She’d rather be unhappy in a fake marriage just to stay with you?”
“I tried many times to tell her I couldn’t return the love she felt. She knew why James was using drugs, but she preferred to believe in the fantasy in her head.” Unable to bear not seeing her dark eyes, I get up from the bed and walk towards her. “Gim, please, look at me... It’s still me…”
“JON?” Her voice comes out pained and low, making me close my eyes. Gim was the only person who truly saw me, who saw Baby as she is. “For all these years, Baby let Jon believe that no one was there for him.”
“Oh my God, Gim!” I cover my mouth through my sobs, my shoulders shaking with tears. “I loved that boy the moment I saw him; I loved Jon more than anything in my life. When I came back from Switzerland and Jonathan told me about his existence, I wanted him, wanted him by my side, to kiss him, to hug him. I even bought an apartment in New York; I was going to leave, start over with my son…”
The words fail me, the crying releases the pain I’ve carried inside me all these years. I had made the right decision when I accepted the freedom Jonathan offered me, but I didn’t know that I would regret it just once in my life. I remember every moment of holding Jon in my arms; it felt like I knew I would never be alone. Katy was a prostitute I used to date, a drug user, more addicted than I was at the time. We had hooked up a lot, and the result of one of those drug and drink-fueled nights was Jon. She came after me when the baby was six months along, but it was Jonathan she found in my place, offering him the baby in exchange for drugs. I was still in Switzerland, going through the transition, between yet another of many plastic surgeries. Aunt Charlote didn’t believe her story, but Roy did, and that’s what led him to do a DNA test with the fetus in Katy’s womb. Jon was a Roy, and by having our blood in his veins, it put Katy in Jonathan’s sights. He didn’t give her a second choice or approval for her bargain. Jonathan had her committed so she wouldn’t keep using drugs until the baby was born. But Katy couldn’t endure; she was too weak and malnourished, even with the best medical care our fortune could buy. Jonathan was present when Jon was born. Aunt Charlote was the first to hold my son. Two hours after the birth, Katy passed away. I was going to leave, just wanted a fresh start with my son, but Aunt Charlote’s harsh words threw me into hell.
“What will you tell him when he finds out you’re a freak? Don’t you think at least one Roy in this family deserves to have a healthy life?”
“I couldn’t tell Jon.” I wipe my face, trying to breathe through the pain, looking in her direction. “How could I tell him I was his father, how would I explain to Jon... that I was born a woman, but trapped inside a man’s body?”
“With love, Baby.” She turns to me, looking through tears, with an enraged expression. “It’s with love that parents raise their children, regardless of gender or choices.”
Her black eyes condemn me just as my soul does for these thirteen years.