Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aaron laid out all the transcripts and credentials she received from her drug dealer. She looked hard to try to find obvious flaws, but couldn’t. She decided to memorize the college names and cities and spend the rest of the afternoon in the library researching them. She wanted to be prepared to field questions flawlessly.
She wore her sweats to the university for her research, and then ran a five-mile course back to her apartment. After showering, her stomach growled its impatience at not being fed since breakfast. She left the apartment to have dinner at the café before tucking in for the night.
The regular counter person was not at the café that night. The cook was tending the counter as well as the stove. He put water and utensils on the counter as Aaron saddled up on the counter stool.
“How is Aaron this evening? We have turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, and apple pie for our special today.”
“Sounds outstanding, Earl. I will take the pie to go, if that is OK,” she answered.
Earl was short, stocky, and bald. He wore his tall, billowing chef’s hat with pride. After seeing the yellow sweat stains around the headband, she often wondered if he ever had the hat washed. He had fat hairy arms extending out of his white tee shirt that probably once fit him years ago.
Aaron was always more comfortable with Earl in the cook station where she didn’t have to actually look at his body. She was happy to find the Sunday paper on the counter. She grabbed it and tried not to look at Earl as he waddled back to the kitchen.
“Help yourself to the coffee, Aaron,” he stated. “Or whatever else you want.”
Still looking down at the paper, she answered, “Thanks, Earl.” She decided that water was sufficient for dinner. She wanted to get a good night’s sleep for class tomorrow. She was also planning to present her credentials and application papers to the Human Resources office. She wanted to look and feel her best.
Aaron scanned the paper looking for nothing special. She hadn’t read anything or heard anything in the news concerning her disappearance, so she was surprised when a small picture caught her attention on page 10 on a section in the back part of the paper.
The small headlines read “No New Details on Missing Woman.” The small print below the picture read: “FAMILY WAITS: Tim Anderson (left) and his dog, Rocky, stand vigil waiting for news of Tim’s wife, Erin, who has been missing for six weeks.”
Aaron bent lower to the page for a better look at the picture. “And his dog, Rocky? Tim Anderson and his dog, Rocky?” Aaron turned pale. Rocky is alive? Could it be another dog? Another Rocky? Aaron had immediate flashbacks to the kennel where Tim picked up Rocky’s limp body, the rush to the veterinarian’s office, the crying as Tim and Erin held each other at the news that Rocky was indeed dead.
Aaron felt sick to her stomach. Earl came from the kitchen with a large plate of turkey and a take-out box with her apple pie. He whipped the plate up front of her on the counter, smiling with pride at his work. He looked at Aaron’s pale face and his smile quickly faded. Aaron quickly closed the newspaper and looked at Earl.
“Are you OK?” Earl asked. “You look terrible.”
“I don’t know, Earl,” she spoke softly. “Suddenly I don’t feel so good.”
“Don’t worry,” he said as he quickly removed the plate of food. “I will put this all in a to-go box and you can eat it later.”
“Thanks, Earl,” she answered. “That would be best.”
Aaron walked the steps up to her apartment. She put the food in her small refrigerator. The apartment was dark now but she had no desire to turn on any lights. She went into her bedroom, threw herself on the bed, and began to cry. First just tears trailing down her cheeks. Next small sobs, then tears and retching sobs convulsed her body. She clutched her stomach and tried not to get sick. She felt violently ill.
Aaron woke up with a start as a horn honked outside her window. Light was streaming in the front of the apartment and she jumped up from the bed. The clock on the nightstand beamed that the time was 7:30 a.m. She had cried herself to sleep. She had slept through the night and now had thirty minutes to get to her first class.
She quickly tore off her clothes now rumpled from her sleep. She bent over to turn on the shower and stood up to catch her reflection in the mirror.
“Oh, my God,” she said. She leaned in close to the mirror as she looked at her face in horror. Her eyes were almost swollen shut. She had big red blotches on her cheeks. She went to the refrigerator and got a handful of ice from the freezer. She put them in a washcloth and placed it over her eyes and face. The showerhead announced that the steamy hot water had arrived.
She stepped into the shower and soaked her face and body as long as she dare to. She could run to class but would have preferred to be ready to teach when the students arrived. That was simply not going to happen today. She didn’t have any choice but to throw on something and run to class. Maybe no one would notice her face. She grabbed her paperwork from the desk stuffed the stack of papers into a well-used briefcase she had found at Goodwill. She ran down the stairs and off to campus.
Aaron arrived late to her class and the entire rest of the day was just as messed up as the beginning. Her face finally had lost some swelling. The red blotches on her cheeks were replaced with small red pimple patches.
At 4:00 p.m. Aaron stepped into one of the many unisex bathrooms in her building. She washed her face for the third time today. She needed to get her papers to the Administration office, but was uncertain she should do it that day. She leaned on the sink and looked at her reflection. This was supposed to be a day of joy for you. You look like Hell. Can you pull off what you need to do today? I wouldn’t think this day could get any worse. You might as well go for it.
With trepidation, she walked through the pentacle and aimed her body toward the Administration building. The sunlight was glistening on the beautiful mosaic tiles below her feet. She looked at the dancing pieces of color around her pant legs. She looked up to the east, through the archway, down the greenway, to the Grand Lodge.
Thank you, she thought. Thank you for reminding me what my mission is. Aaron walked now with more confidence toward her destiny. By the time she reached the Human Resources office, she was almost giddy. Tim and Rocky were her past. Tim had wanted to get rid of her and he succeeded. Aaron was still hurt that all their years of marriage could be thrown away in an instant. No warning, no reason, just thrown away. But at least she was still alive. She was more confident than ever that she would have been killed if she had stayed with Tim.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It took only one day for the proposal letter came from the University.
Dear Dr. Jones. The University of the Pacific Rim would like to extend to you an invitation to become a member of the faculty in our English Department. Your impeccable credentials have been reviewed and we feel you can make a valuable contribution to education at our institution. Please review the contract enclosed and, if acceptable, sign and return to us as soon as possible.
Welcome to our brotherhood, Aaron Jones. We look forward to a long and meaningful relationship.
Chancellor Phillip Morton
Aaron reviewed the contract and quickly signed it. Impeccable credentials indeed, she thought. She kept one copy of the contract in a folder in her apartment desk with a copy of her application. She could not help but smile. Professor Doctor Aaron Jones. It did have a nice ring to it. For some morbid reason, she was thinking of how excited Tim would have been with the news. But that part of her life is dead. She is dead. Erin is dead. Long live Aaron Jones.
Aaron needed to share the news with someone. She thumbed through the telephone book to find Professor Gibson. She rang the listed number. Gordon answered on the second ring. “Gordon,” Aaron started. “Aaron here. I got the job. I am now a fellow brother at your University.”
“Congratulations, Aaron,” Gordon praised. “Don’t forget to turn in your Mason application.”
“I have it right here in my hand,” Aaron answered as she rummaged through the desk drawer trying to find the brochure. She felt the now familiar folded, colorful, slick paper brochure and held it up in front of her face. “I have it right here and it is already filled out.” Just a small technicality as she picked up a pen and started filling in the information.
“I will bring it by your office tomorrow. I did a lot of reading about the Masons as you suggested. It does look quite exciting and interesting. I can hardly wait to attend a meeting.”
“Good for you, Aaron,” Gordon said. “I’ll submit your application as soon as I get it. I’ll get together with you soon to tell you what’s next. Again, congratulations and welcome aboard.” Gordon hung up.
Aaron completed the remaining information on the Mason’s application and placed the signed contract and brochure in her briefcase. She suddenly was starving and went downstairs to eat some of Earl’s home cooking.
Chapter Thirty
Another two weeks went by before Aaron heard from Gordon about being accepted into the Masonic brotherhood. She taught her classes during the day and ran every night. The running was always a great release for her. It also helped to keep her weight down to keep the feminine curves away. Quite unexpectedly one day, she heard from Gordon.
“Aaron, you are approved for entrance to the brotherhood,” he said. “Can I come over to tell you what to expect on your first visit to the Temple?”
Aaron shocked but confident said, “Of course. Come right over. Can’t wait to hear what you have to say.”
She turned off the TV, which had nothing of interest anyway, and busied herself in the kitchen making drinks and finger-snacks. There was a knock at the door. Aaron escorted Gordon to the sofa and offered him refreshments.
“I don’t have a great amount of time tonight, Aaron, but I want to get you ready for the ritual of Entered Apprentice Degree. As with most degrees of the brotherhood, you will learn more from the lecture from the Worshipful Master than I could ever possibly tell you. After you go through the ritual, I can talk to you about questions you might have.”
“Worshipful Master? What is that?” Aaron asked.
“The Worshipful Master presides over all the lodge meetings especially the rituals of degrees. Now, if you can bear with me a few minutes, I would like to tell you what to expect at the first degree ritual.”
“When would that ritual take place, Gordon?” Aaron asked.
“We missed this month’s initiation, so we will have to wait to next month. But it will give you a chance to study these small manuals to become acquainted with the process.” Gordon handed Aaron several small booklets.
“The only thing you really have to be prepared for is to give yourself to the Master and follow his lead. Answer his questions and, of course, be prepared to bare yourself to prove your gender.”
“Excuse me?” Aaron sat at attention. “Bare myself?”
“Not exactly bare yourself, but close. The rites all rely on your being a man. Women are not allowed to become members, and precautions are always taking place. You will need to take off your pants—you can keep on your underwear. Then you will be draped in a sackcloth gown. It will drape over your right shoulder, follow down your left breast and end at your right hip. That will allow your left breast and left knee to be exposed. These are very strict rules and cannot be altered. You will be blindfolded and you will have a rope around your neck. That is how you will be escorted into the temple for initiation.”
Aaron was sure her face had gone white. Her mind was reeling. She had come too far to lose the brass ring right before she reached it. She tried to rationalize all that Gordon had told her. She had no idea that the rituals would be so strict.
“Ok, Gordon. No problem. I will be ready.” She really didn’t have any idea what she was going to do, but was not going to show her hand, or any other part of her body just now.
“Thanks for coming over. I will talk to you at school tomorrow. Good night, and thanks for coming over.”
That night Aaron couldn’t sleep. She rolled from side to side trying to figure out how she was going to pull this one off.
Morning came as expected. In fact, she was up early because she never really went to sleep the night before. She struggled to get to the café for breakfast then decided to try to get a haircut before class started. She stumbled into Sammy’s shop, grabbed a magazine, and jumped into one of the barber chairs. “Cut me up, Sammy,” Aaron said as she opened the magazine.
Sammy turned and sharpened his blade on the leather strap. “How are things going at your new job?”
“Really good,” she said. “I got accepted into the Mason.” She continued to thumb through the slick pages.
“Are you looking for something to wear to the initiation?” he asked.
“Why,” she asked.
“Well, the catalog you are looking at probably wouldn’t go over too well at the Temple.”
Aaron, who had not really been looking at the pages, suddenly realized what she was looking at. She almost dropped the periodical waiting for the pages to burn her skin. “Good God, what is this?” she exclaimed.
Sammy laughed heartily. “That, my friend, is a catalog for the trans-gender.”
“What in the Hell is a trans-gender? Aaron asked.
“That is someone who is transforming from one gender to another.”
Aaron turned the catalog over to look at the cover. His ‘n Hers in Portland, Oregon. “So this is a catalog of stuff to buy to become a woman or something?” She continued to look through the pages. Her eyes caught an item of interest. It was a man’s brief that featured: Life-like rubber testicles and penis complete with 100% human hair. Installed securely in a man’s brief. Impossible to tell at first feel that it is not real. Balls-In-A-Brief $19.95 plus shipping and handling.
“Or a man, if you wish,” Sammy said. He was finishing the sideburns with his usual flare and spun Aaron around in the chair.
“But, you don’t need any of that, do you?”
Aaron was sure that Sammy somehow knew her secret. “Hell, no,” she answered.
She flung the catalog down on the chair, paid Sammy, and fled the barbershop. Aaron took her apartment stairs two at a time.
Somehow she needed to get that pair of briefs for her initiation ritual. She fled the apartment to find a pay phone. She dialed the directory assistance and asked for the phone number of His ‘n Hers shop in Portland, Oregon. The operator offered to dial the 24 hour 800 number and Aaron agreed.
Aaron couldn’t order over the phone because she had no credit card. She didn’t want one—too easy to trace. She would send $24.95 to His ‘n Hers catalog to get HZ4534209-B – Balls-In-A-Brief, guaranteed to be delivered 2 days after they received a money order. Aaron stopped by the pharmacy to get her money order. She retreated to her apartment to place the order and money in an envelope to the address provided to her. Her manhood was on its way.
