Perfect Peace (21 page)

Dreading the moment like Sisyphus must have dreaded another rolling of the stone, Emma Jean rose and said, “Perfect, honey, come with me.” She slung a bag over her shoulder and walked out the front door without ever turning back.

The boys gathered at the screen and watched Perfect walk behind Emma Jean until both vanished down the road. Emma Jean turned and led Perfect into the forest. She hadn’t had the time to grab Olivia, and she would soon regret having left her behind. Perfect thought that maybe they were headed to the Jordan for some reason.

“Sit on that stump there,” Emma Jean said, and pointed.

“Okay, Momma.”

Emma Jean couldn’t face her. All she could think about was what she was prepared to do and whether Perfect could handle it. She paced several seconds with her eyes closed, then said, “Listen, sweetie. Momma’s got somethin’ to tell you, and I need you to hear me. This ain’t gon’ be easy, but it’s gon’ be okay. At least afterwhile.”

Perfect smiled. “Is this about my birthday party yesterday? I know it was ruined, but it’s okay. We can always have another one if you want to.”

“No, honey, this ain’t got nothin’ to do with that.” Emma Jean chewed her thumbnail and continued, “This got to do with you. Just you.”

“What about me, Momma?”

Emma Jean looked heavenward and asked for strength. “You just gotta hear what I’m ’bout to say and believe I wouldn’t never do nothin’ to hurt you. I swear I wouldn’t.”

“I know.” Perfect nodded.

“And I’m doin’ this for your own good. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Perfect had no idea what Emma Jean was talking about.

“This ain’t gon’ be easy, sweetie,” she repeated, “but it’s the only way.”

“Okay.”

Emma Jean knelt. “Years ago, I did . . . um . . . something I shouldn’t have done.”

Perfect frowned. “What?”

“And I need to fix it now. So no one hurts you in the future.”

Perfect’s blank stare made Emma Jean’s purging difficult. “See, honey . . . um . . . when you was born I wanted a little girl so bad I woulda done anything to get one.”

“Then you got one!”

“Um . . . yes . . . well . . . sorta.”

“Whatcha mean?”

Emma Jean huffed and shook her head. “I mean that . . . um . . . I wanted a girl so bad that I . . . um . . .”

“What, Momma? You can tell me anything.”

“. . . that I . . . um . . . made you into one.” She glanced into Perfect’s eyes and saw nothing but confusion. Then she reached for her small, soft hands and clutched them harder than she had intended.

“I know this don’t make no sense, baby, but you gotta know. Before somebody else tell you.”

Perfect’s brow furrowed. “Tell me what?”

Emma Jean blurted, “That you ain’t no girl!”

“What do you mean, Momma? Of course I’m a girl. I got long hair and everything.”

Emma Jean stood. “Listen, Perfect. You been thinkin’ you a girl yo’ whole life. I understand that, because that’s how I raised you, but you wunnit born that way.”

“Huh?” Perfect began to tear up. “I don’t understand, Momma.”

Emma Jean struggled to remain composed. “I know you don’t, baby, but just listen to what I’m telling you.”

“I ain’t no girl?” Perfect whimpered.

“No. Not really. I mean, no. When you was born I decided to raise you as a girl ’cause I wanted one so bad, but—”

“Then what am I?” Perfect cried.

“You’re a boy. That’s what you are.” Emma Jean covered her mouth at the horror of it all.

“No I’m not! I’m a girl. Just like you.”

“Honey, listen,” Emma Jean tried to explain. “I know you’re confused and don’t none of this make much sense to you right now, but you gotta believe me. You was meant to be a boy.”

“But I don’t wanna be no boy!”

“It don’t make no difference what you want!” Emma Jean screeched. “You was born a boy. I
made
you a girl, but that ain’t what you was suppose to be.”

“How you know, Momma? Huh? How you know?”

Emma Jean began unbuttoning her dress.

“I like bein’ a girl and havin’ pretty things and stuff. You even said yourself that I was a girl and that I was gon’ grow up and marry a handsome man and—”

“I know what I said, Perfect,” Emma Jean said as she lifted her dress over her head. “But I was wrong. I shouldn’t o’ said those things to you. You ain’t no girl.”

“Yes I am, Momma!” Perfect was inconsolable.

“No, you ain’t!”

Perfect nodded and sobbed.

Emma Jean pointed to her panties and said, “This is what girls have!”

Perfect gawked. Where was the lump?

“Only boys have what you have. I’m sorry, honey. I’m really, really sorry.”

She hadn’t meant to be crude, but she couldn’t think of another way to convince Perfect of the truth.

“Now. I know this ain’t easy, but we can survive it,” Emma Jean said, pulling her dress back over her head. “If I hadn’t told you, somebody else would’ve, and then you’d been real upset with me, and you probably wouldn’t ever trust me again. This way, you heard the truth from me. I know I was wrong, but this is the best I can do now. Trust me. I’m lovin’ you more right now than I ever have before.”

Perfect hadn’t said a word since beholding Emma Jean’s nakedness. Where was her
thing
? She thought desperately. It couldn’t be true, could it? Was she really supposed to be a
boy
?

“So from now on, you gon’ be a boy. A handsome little black boy. It’ll be strange at first, but you’ll get used to it, and this’ll all be over afterwhile.”

“But, Momma, I—”

“Shut up! I done told you the truth and ain’t no more to say about it. I’m sorry for what I did, and this is the only way I know to fix it.” Her tone softened. “I know this hurts, Perfect, but if somebody else told you, you wouldn’t ever forgive me. You might be mad at me now, but you’ll thank me one day for telling you the truth.”

“But I cain’t be no boy!”

“Yes, you can. And you will. We gon’ start with this.” She extracted a battered pair of overalls from the bag. “Here. Put ’em on.”

Perfect sat transfixed.

“I said, put ’em on!”

She received the overalls with tremulous hands. Emma Jean lifted Perfect’s dress and manipulated it over her head. “Put these on first.”

Perfect wept as she removed her panties and slid on a brand-new pair of boy’s underwear. They felt thick and heavy, and Perfect didn’t like them, but
she was too perplexed to argue. She needed Olivia now. Someone who understood her. Someone who could verify that, in fact, she was a girl and had always been.

“Now. Step into these.” Emma Jean held open the overalls as Perfect obeyed. “Good. You’re gonna be fine.” Emma Jean buckled the straps.

Perfect stared at her mother as though she had never seen her. Was this some sort of joke? Why was Emma Jean doing this? Perfect couldn’t be a boy for real. Not really. Could she?

“Now. One more thing.”

Emma Jean motioned for Perfect to sit, and, like a robotic zombie, she complied. Her tears continued to flow, but the sobbing had ceased. She gazed straight ahead as though out of touch with reality. The straps of the overalls drooped over her thin shoulders, and she still wasn’t sure why Emma Jean was doing this to her.

After rummaging through the bag, Emma Jean removed a pair of scissors and stood behind the paralyzed child. “This hurts me more than it does you. Believe me. I wish there was another way, but there ain’t. If I didn’t do this now, you’d hate me later, and I couldn’t live with that. This way, we’ll go through everything together.” She removed the ribbons from Perfect’s hair and began to clip it away in clusters. Stray pieces fell slowly, quietly across her shoulders and onto her lap, and all Perfect could do was weep. She couldn’t imagine what she’d look like without hair, but she had a feeling others wouldn’t call her pretty anymore. “You gon’ always be my baby,” Emma Jean assured her. “Don’t make no difference if you a girl or boy.” She cut the hair as short as she could manage with a pair of scissors, then tried her best to shape it. “There. That’ll do for now.” She stepped from behind Perfect and inspected her work. “You real handsome.” She collected the clumps of hair and put them in the bag. Perfect never moved.

Emma Jean then pulled her to her feet. “All right. This is a new beginning. You a boy now. It ain’t got to be hard ’less you make it hard. It’ll feel a little awkward at first, but, like I said, you’ll get used to it. Now wipe your face and let’s go.”

Emma Jean was speaking jibberish for all Perfect knew. She felt like unwanted lint, picked and, tossed to the wind without a care. What would her brothers say? Wouldn’t they ask where their sister had gone?

Every few steps, Perfect stumbled or bumped into trees as Emma Jean dragged her home. Years later, she would try to recall exactly how the transition
had occurred, only to find a blank space in her memory where details should have been. All she remembered was crying and begging her mother to stop—had she actually said it or did she just think it?—but Emma Jean was determined to accomplish the mission at hand. She had decided that Perfect’s life as a girl was over, so, without warning or preamble, she ended it—just like that. That’s what she remembered. And her life was never the same again.

Emma Jean had practiced what she would say to Gus and the boys, but when she stepped through the door, her mind went blank. Authorly was the first to notice, and his “Oh shit!” captured everyone’s attention.

Gus turned, prepared to slap Authorly in the mouth, but froze when he saw his distorted daughter.

“Everyone,” Emma Jean announced slowly, “ain’t no easy way to say this, so I’m just gon’ say it.” She positioned Perfect in front of her and rested her hands on Perfect’s shoulders.

Mister’s mouth fell open. His brothers stared and waited. Gus glanced from Perfect to Emma Jean, unable to imagine why someone had done this to his baby girl. He stood slowly.

Gus’s facial contortions ruined Emma Jean’s resolve. She had planned to tell the truth, and then to ask the men for forgiveness. Simple as that. It would be awkward, she knew, but she could endure it. She hadn’t planned for Gus to rise and gape at her like one prepared to destroy her if her explanation wasn’t sufficient.

“When Perfect was born,” Emma Jean muttered, “I wanted a girl. Gus, you remember. I always wanted girls, but I didn’t have none. You boys was fine, but I needed a girl. Someone I could dress up and make feel pretty. You know what I mean?” She tried to smile, but no one smiled in return. “So I did . . . something I shouldn’t’ve done.” Her voice broke. Perfect had been crying the entire time. “I lied. I told y’all the child was a girl, but it wasn’t.” She dropped her head. “It was a boy.”

Now Bartimaeus understood.

Gus inched forward in slow motion, studying Emma Jean’s face.

“I needed a girl!” she proclaimed. “Cain’t you understand that? Every mother wants a girl. It’s a woman’s dream.”

“What?” Gus whispered in fury. “You did what?” He was approaching like a starving lioness before the kill.

“Gus, listen. Please. I know this don’t make much sense to you right now, but you gotta try to understand where I was then.”

“I ain’t understandin’ nothin’ you sayin,’ woman!” he screamed. Authorly stood beside him.

“I’m sorry,” Emma Jean whined. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. It just got out of hand.”

Gus lifted Perfect’s bowed head and, for the first time, saw his own reflection, although he still didn’t believe what Emma Jean was saying.

“You lyin’, Emma Jean. My baby girl ain’t no boy.”

Authorly touched his father’s shoulder, but Gus jerked away violently.

“Do you think I’d lie about something like this, man?”

Gus looked at Perfect and said, “You my little girl. You gon’ always be my little girl, and ain’t nothin’ gon’ change that.”

“Stop, Gus! Listen to what I’m sayin’! I lied to you, I lied to everybody when this child was born ’cause I needed a girl. I knew it couldn’t last forever, but I—”

Gus slapped Emma Jean so hard the boys gasped and held their breaths. Authorly stepped toward him, but the look in Gus’s eyes made the boy halt.

“I don’t know what you done done,” he whispered vehemently, “but this ain’t no boy.” His pointed finger trembled.

Emma Jean sobbed and nodded. “Yes, it is, Gus. Yes it is. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would do this to you. I never knew you even wanted a girl.”

“I wanted a girl when I got one!” he shouted. “Now I don’t know why you cut her hair off and I don’t know why she got on them clothes—”

“ ’Cause he’s a boy, Gus,” Emma Jean sniffled. “He’s a boy.”

Gus’s eyes watered and his mouth quivered. “If what you sayin’ is true, you prove it to me right now.”

“I’m tellin’ you—”

“Don’t
tell
me nothin’! I said prove it!”

“But the only way you gon’ know for sure—”

Suddenly he turned to Perfect. “Take them clothes off.”

“Oh no, honey. Don’t do this. Not now. Don’t embarrass him in front o’ his brothers. He ain’t ready for nothin’ like that.”