Squirrel Cage (29 page)

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Authors: Cindi Jones

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“You look thin David,” she said.

“I haven’t been eating much lately.”

“So, what did you have done?” She demanded.

“Huh?”

“When you went to California, what did you have done to your body,” she demanded again.

“Oh, that. I had my ears pierced. See?” I said as I presented my earlobes.
The holes were barely visible because they were hidden in the natural landscape of my ears.

“What? You didn’t have surgery?” she asked.

“Nope” I replied.

“You have been excommunicated for having surgery to become a woman!” she exclaimed.

“I can’t help it.
They are the ones who did the excommunicating.
I didn’t want to go to face the church court.”

Charlene pulled herself together. I could see her
Squirrel
cage spinning as she processed the information.

“Have you had sex with anyone?” she demanded.

“Yes” I said. There was no use trying to hide this. It was bound to come out sooner or later.

“Tell me about it.”


This happened several months ago, long before I started my change,” I started. “
I was at a club in Salt Lake. One of my friends had an acquaintance that was performing.
I talked to another woman there for an hour or so until this person was to perform. Someone told her that I was a cross dresser. She couldn’t believe
that I had a male anatomy
and so she asked me. I told her that it was
sort of
true. She invited home with her and she made moves on me. I figured I was going to hell anyway, so I gave in.
I wanted to see if there was anything male left in me. Apparently there was.

I finalized.
Guilt washed over my broken soul. I had been unfaithful to my dearest love.

Charlene recognized some value in this confession.
David had sex with another woman. David is still straight.
Yes, David can be saved.
I saw some relief in her eyes as she recognized her
illogical
understanding.
To me it meant nothing.
I didn’t want sex. I could care less.
If someone would have asked me if I wanted to be with a man or a woman, I’d tell them that sex was the furthest thing from my mind.

“I have scheduled you to meet with the bishop. After that, you can come home,” she stated.

She had set up an appointment for me to see the Bishop. It was her turn to betray me. And she had complete power over me.
So, we drove down to the chapel to see the bishop. He was waiting in his office.

“David, I know that this has been very difficult for you to do. But I am convinced that you will be able to recover from your illness.
Now, tell me what you have done to your body,” he said.
I realized that this would be the same conversation and confession as the one I just had.

It was.
The bishop told me that the path back to my former station would be a difficult one.
My excommunication had been announced to the congregation. They all new that it had happened.
I would need to sit in the back pews for a couple of years; it would be a long time before I could be baptized….

“Why did they excommunicate me?” I asked.

“Because you started your sex change with an operation,” he answered.

“But I did not” I said.

“David, where are you going with this?”

“I don’t know.
I just wanted to find out what happened. I suppose that it
isn’
t
all that
important.
What’s done is done.

We concluded the interview.
I had finally confessed ALL my sins. My life was an open book to this man.

“Before you go, let me call Charlene.
He picked up the phone and dialed her number.
Y
es this is Bishop Green.
Uh huh. We are done here.
I think that everything will be fine.
Uh huh.
Okay.
He’ll be right down.” And then he hung up.

“Go on David, get out of here. Go see your loving wife,” he said.

As I walked to my car, I wondered what had gone on behind the scenes. I felt uneasy. But it wouldn’t matter because soon I would embrace my little children
as Charlene had promised
. I drove down to the house and parked the car in the driveway. As I approached the door, it opened and Charlene beamed with happiness. I gave her a hug. “Mom told me I had better not have sex with you David,” she said
before anything else
.


What?

I asked myself. I could care less about sex. I didn’t care if I never had sex again in my life.

“Where are the kids? I can’t wait to see them. It has been nearly
five
months. All I’ve been able to look at is their pictures.”

“David, they are not here,” she said.

My heart fell into my stomach.
My chest deflated.
They were going to do what they did to Alex. They were going to lobotomize David. I didn’t care. The last ounce of hope, that I would see my children was pulled from reach. They weren’t here. Yes, it was Charlene’s turn to betray me. She had every right to do so.

She had prepared a list for me to look at.

“Look David, I’ve written down all of these things that you can do when you come back to live with us.” Charlene said as she passed me a sheet of paper.

At the top of the list was “Play the
cello
”.
I had always wanted to keep up
with
the
cello
, to take lessons, and to perform with some local group.
Charlene had always thought that playing the
cello
was for sissies.
She had poo pooed the idea and I had never brought it up again.
Why was it on the list? The rest of the list contained all of the interests and hobbies I had neglected for so long.
It held no enticement for me.

“When can I see the kids?” I asked.

“You can’t see them now David. You must prove yourself before you can see the kids.”

My mind went blank. Words, words, words. She was saying them. I heard them and my mind could not process. I couldn’t see my kids. The next thing that I remember is that I was in my car driving home to my little apartment.


I’ll never be worthy to see my children
,” I started thinking. “
My life will slide down the gutter with the
autumn
rain into the sewer.
I am going to lose my job.
I will drag them down with me.

Squirrel had nothing to say. I didn’t know if she would ever talk to me again.

I arrived in my apartment fairly early on Saturday night. I spent the time watching
the blank screen of a dead TV
.
I tried to think but the thoughts were not coherent. There was no thought.
Nurse Cratche
d
gave me a shot. I sat there slobbering through the remainder of the weekend immersed in self pity and hopelessness.

I managed to pull myself together Monday morning. I put on my blue suit, pressed white shirt, and red silk power tie. Squirrel was gone. She said nothing. Perhaps I killed her.

How would I face my peers at work? How would I face anyone today?
What would my life be like?

How would I rise from the fall?

California,
Here
I Come

After my stay at the hospital, I returned to work. The job was dead. There was absolutely nothing to do.
I knew that I had to find a new job.
It was the end of October and I wanted to get out that night with friends to paint the town for Halloween.
I called Pastor Bruce to let him know I was still alive.

I gave him a synopsis of what had happened.
He, along with everyone else had been very worried about me.
They had not been able to contact me and thought that something had happened.
I told him that everything was going to be okay now.

“Cindi, what are you doing for Halloween? Bruce asked.

“Bruce, I called to see what was going on.
I’d like to have some fun,” I answered.

“Well, some of us are meeting at the chapel. We are going to get dressed in costumes and go out to eat. Please join us Cindi.”
He said.

“I’d love to Bruce.
I need some fun,” I replied.

“Great, meet us at the church at 5 PM,” he said. I usually stayed at the office until 5:30 or so, but this job was in the toilet.

“I’ll be there”, I promised and hung up the phone.

Late
r that
morning, after the donut break, I received a call from my Lawyer Leonard Simms. “Hello Cindi, how are you this morning?” he queried.

“I’m very well, thank you,” I replied.

“Cindi, I’m calling you with Art Dresch from the Equal Opportunity office in conference,” he said.

“Hello Cindi,” Art said.

“Okay,” I said wondering what this was all about.

“Cindi, I need to ask you something.
Are you still going by Cindi at work?” he queried.

“Well that is my legal name I answered. And I have not asked them to change it. I have it on record with memos. But there is a lot of really weird stuff going on here,” I answered.

“The reason I ask Cindi is that I called you earlier this morning.
The receptionist told me that Cindi Jones no longer worked there and asked if she could forward me to someone else. I knew that you had been having some problems there with your transition,” he said.

“That’s an understatement,” I replied.
Every couple of weeks, I sent him a packet of my memos and copies of my notes for safe keeping.

“I know Cindi.
I assumed that you
were still employed
since you had not advised me otherwise. That’s
why
I called the Equal Opportunity office. Art agreed to conference call you again. I got the same run around… that you no longer worked there and I was asked if there was someone else who could help me. I answered in the affirmative and asked to speak with Dennis, your plant manager. He told me that he had instructed the receptionist to say what she told me. Do you know anything about this?”

“No,” I answered. “But there have been numerous situations where they have done some very odd things. Dennis was personally involved in my excommunication from the Mormon Church. He has forced me to talk to people from the Church. I have told him that I do not wish to mix my professional life with my personal life on several occasions. And I have followed up with memos.
But you know all of this.”

“Thank you Cindi,” he said.
“May I call you back in a few minutes?”

“Sure,” I said.

Some twenty minutes passed before he called me back. “Cindi, how much do you want to leave the company?” he asked. I was shocked. “I can get you a month or two worth of salary without any problem.
Or, if you like we can take the company to court.
You have a very good case.
But it may take years
and knowing how things are in this state, I’m not confident of the outcome
,” he said.

“You know that I don’t care about legal suites.
I just want to be left in peace,” I replied.

“Cindi, think about this. Your job is history. They are going to run you out. I can get you out with a little mon
ey to give you a fresh start.”

It would be a crapshoot for me, a transsexual, to ever win a case in front of a Mormon judge in Utah. And I knew that I’d get a Mormon judge.

“Do you think that they would go for
three
months
salary
?” I asked. “It’s the end of the year. No one anywhere will even consider hiring anyone until mid January,” I said.
“How much is this going to cost me to pay your fees?” I asked.

“Cindi, this is a freebie.
Let’s just call this my good deed for the day.
I’d love to put the screws to this guy Dennis. He’s in hot water, believe me.
They already have two other discrimination cases in the courts.
We’ve got
their
corporate
legal heads
spinning their wheels. Tell me what you want and we’ll get it for you tomorrow,” he said.

“Leonard, I figure that it will take me three months to find a job.
I have no desire to sue.
Like I’ve always told you, I just want to be treated fairly,” I told him.

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