Mystery Lake

  [52] Second Chances

  Roxy didn't need to be told that, but she appreciated the reminder. The next immediate question was how they should open the packages, if they should even be opened. It didn't look like it was easy to just pop them open, and they needed to tear off what amounted to wrapping, which may or may not have been paper or something else. As far as who would try to do the tearing, everyone got close to them, but the ones who got closest fastest were herself and little Alyssa. Rather suspicious.

  Alyssa appeared particularly enraptured by the black gift, which was both expected and troubling. She looked ready to just rip it open before she leaned back and looked over at Roxy with concern. She didn't put the small black gift down, though. Roxy noticed that her princess companion was pulsing an urgent plea to her to open up the bright light gift. Refusing left her sweaty and uncertain, but she was still in control.

  "Something is going on, and we need to be careful," Roxy said to the others, herself, and Alyssa in particular. Alyssa drew her hand back and nodded. Begrudgingly, the two of them passed the packages to Miranda and Jake, respectively. Their hands fumbled with them, as if the material were hot rather than cold. Duncan told Joel once that he had really bad skin dryness years ago and that it was sometimes difficult to even curl his digits into a proper fist.

  The depths of winter sometimes brought that back, but only during really dry days. Miranda's hands should've been perfect, soft, and delicately gripping. But her hold fumbled. Her pinkies quivered and remained slightly elevated despite the best efforts of her grip. Jake had to hug the other gift tight to his chest. It looked like hot cramps were flowing through him. They each managed to carry their respective loads over to one of the side tables to set them down for the moment. The surreal pair looked like a fancy art display from another era.

  The old lady retrieved a long, glittering letter opener. It looked fancy, ornate, and like an artifact from long ago. Roxy stretched it out in front of her like an awkward short sword, ready to slay whatever beast these things turned out to be. The name "mimic" popped into her head without thought or prompting. Joel should've had no-to-little idea what that was supposed to mean, but Roxy felt like the details were right at the cusp of her consciousness.

  Randomly, Miranda offered up an adjacent thought of the pair of packages popping open with menace and teeth, as if they were monsters in disguise. She even presented the 'mimic' word pulled from tabletop gameplay. Roxy wanted to believe that line of thought was perfectly harmless, but there were just too many oddities and coincidences in their lives that hinted at more and were clearly not coincidental. Roxy urged Alyssa to keep her distance, even as she felt the pull towards her own gift. Together, they were able to keep far enough away to not feel the weird gravitation dragging them in.

  Breakfast; they could finish up breakfast. They didn't have to get close to the weird things. In the other room, Roxy was assaulted by a sun drown of sneezes in combination with Alyssa blasting loud versions of her own. She sniffled in embarrassment, and they each blew their noses quietly. Breakfast; they could deal with the weird delivery later.

  It was difficult to find anything to talk about around the table that didn't involve the conspicuous objects looming just beyond the wall. Eugene managed with a sigh though. Despite all the strange and quirky happenings, his mind was still laser-focused on the nervous event of lunch. His mother seeded cheerful laughter to lighten the mood and offered up an anecdote about his father.

  The story of how the two of them first met and early courted one another was apparently a well-worn and easily slipped-on outfit of a narrative. She recounted how they were students at university, not too different than any of their guests, trying to figure out their lives ahead. Her future husband was already well into the mysteries and scrutinies of medicine, even though he adored math and suspected that might be his major. His calming, commanding voice already drew her and so many others close, despite him not yet understanding the nuances of mesmerism.

  Maggie giggled as she recounted the first dates and how they awkwardly fumbled with one another despite finding it so easy to speak, joke, and laugh. "I worried that I was an absolute tomboy because of how blithely unaware I was of girly things. He scrutinized my logic and asked me all sorts of questions. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, and the funniest thing was that when I asked him to rate me on a scale of one to ten for beauty, he gave a strikingly earnest 7.25 with a detailed analysis of positives and negatives and points of improvement. If I were a different kind of girl, I would've thrown a fit and taken it personally. But we were each so unaware of how courtship was supposed to go. I still had my core of self despite changing so young and not remembering how I used to be. One can be and show so many different sides when presenting themselves to the person they care about. But just offering up sincerity is the most beautiful thing you can ever give someone else. You don't need to give the full picture of who and what you are in an introduction, nor do you need to worry about what comes later or tomorrow. Just be there as yourself and let the moment happen."

  Eugene wiggled in his seat as if he were under the icy blade of air conditioning with nothing to shelter himself. He took breaths, long and practiced, as if he feared drowning would come to him soon, despite the dryness of the room. He thanked his mother for that little story and reminder, noting that certain details were elaborated on from the familiar version he knew. Frankly, Maggie inquired, "Would you rather be a woman before your date?"

  Her son's face exploded in bright pink colors as he stammered for something approaching a coherent response. He fumbled about all the uncertainties, how these fairy forces would then be coming after him, and the danger to her and her own long-ago transformation. Maggie suspected this would be different than what happened to their guests, though she couldn't present him with a logical reason for why.

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  "Would you feel better? Don't let me influence you one way or another. You have all my blessings and all my love, no matter what choice you make here or any other choices in your life. You could decide to be a dastardly criminal, stealing diapers from babies for some reason or another. You could choose to be the most pious and lonely saint in all the world. You could be a baron of industry, a sneak of sales figures, or even a complete hippie out in the woods. Who you choose to be is for you and you alone, but know that I will always be so desperately proud of you, no matter how your heart shows, what face you wear to the world, or whatever decorations of the flesh you pick. You will always be my child, whether son or daughter, no matter who you love or how you are loved for all my life. Please just be happy; that's all I ask."

  Eugene not only settled into tears, but so did Alyssa as she squeezed Roxy, and the old lady apologized for bringing all that to the surface. They each apologized to her in turn and said that it was fine. Alyssa relayed that she wished that her mom said something like that to her when she needed it the most. She looked at Roxy hesitantly and then looked away again.

  Before long, Eugene didn't necessarily look better or calmer, but he wasn't quite crimped into the same tight, stomach-gurgling shape as before. His legs stretched, and his arms settled at his sides. He actually breathed instead of gulping air when remembering to. Still, so much time remained before the appointed lunch, and all he could really take in were practiced sips of tea.

  "My name would be Riley or Ryder. I thought about Eugenia, or a very bare-bones translation of my name. I thought about so many different ones, and it sucks to leave so many possibilities on the table. But those are the ones that feel right to me… It's just now that I've met Rydia that it would feel weird to choose a name so close to where my mind wants to go. I know that I shouldn't let that influence me, but I don't want to take her name. Not like that. It's complicated..." Eugene drooped as if he had just run a marathon without standing up.

  Alyssa jumped in with her response. "Screw that crap. It's not complicated. You're just making it complicated. You like the big lady, and you wanna go on a date with her. You want to be happy, and you want her to be happy. You tell her what's bothering you; you tell her you wanna be a girl with a name you think is cute, and it's a name just like hers. You have to communicate. Or else you're just gonna hurt each other with confusion, resentment, and everything stuffed up inside."

  The little girl's first round of words came out like a blur of energy and feeling. Then it slowed down with hints of sniffles until it ended with a reflective and measured tone. Alyssa didn't betray her thoughts by looking in any particular direction, but Roxy could tell there was a lot on her mind about the choices she made. Eugene blinked and looked around without leaving skeptical eyes on her.

  He took a deep breath and tried to unkink his remaining tension. He placed a hand on his forehead, and his mother leaned forward with a kind expression. Eugene responded.

  "All right. Yeah. I don't have to make it complicated. I have to be sincere with her if I want to be serious. She needs to know that Riley is important to me. I just don't know if I want things to go 100% that way. It's been the best thing to see that one of you, and now some of you aren't stuck to a single shape. I have wasted so much time wandering around my hopes instead of seizing them. I want to be a lady. I know you're fine with that, mom. But I've always felt guilty about depriving you of the son you should have. Dee Dee and Vivian were such handfuls, and I was the quiet one. I didn't want to follow in their footsteps. But it's like my brain is a certain way, and denying it or trying to find alternative outlets is like trying to paste over a hole in my gut. Screw that crap, as she said."

  Maggie assured her child that she was indeed fine with them leading the best version of their life, without guilt. It didn't matter to her to say that she had X number of daughters and Y number of sons. She had her children, and just knowing they were happy was the greatest thing she could ever ask for. He wrapped his arms around her.

  Roxy had a lot to think about. She had adopted being a girl at first as a form of protest and resilience because it seemed like there was no going back and she had to be strong for those she cared about. But she liked some things associated with being a girl; she found unique pleasures and happy little joys. She did things that were beyond the definition of a man, although the clarity of that definition seemed questionable.

  But being shy, being cheerful, and being uncertain of your feelings did not a gender make. And she had what seemed to be a total lady inside her, a proud princess who could summon all sorts of things. Alyssa had something like that too, and who knew who else? Although she got it before taking a dip in the lake. A lot to think about, but still no absolute conclusions land on.

  Miranda's expression fluttered with bright sympathy and curiosity. As Eugene steadied himself, Miranda offered to be the bearer of the water for him. A fair portion was measured out, comparable to what Alyssa threw the last time. They considered measuring out more, but a bucket really wasn't necessary. The biggest question was where the water would fall.

  Getting it on the carpet wasn't a good idea, and the wood and tile had issues with moisture. Setting down a towel risked a towel absorbing this unnatural liquid. Standing in a small tub seemed like the best way to keep the stuff contained. It was essentially a foot bath with enough room for the water to not splash too much. Eugene had trouble remaining steady with his body approaching a storm of shivers.

  The gurgles could be audibly heard but quieted as he took careful breaths. To protect against what happened with Roxy, Eugene placed one of his old, heavy-duty fabric face masks on and secured it tightly around his mouth and nose. To go the extra mile, he retrieved some earplugs to make sure everything around his face was protected. It looked bizarre, like preparing for some truly watery plunge instead of standing in a little toe tub with a container of crystal-clear water beside it.

  They considered setting up near the sink, but passing this water into the public works system was a risk. It wasn't a particularly large risk since the water seemed to sublimate after doing its task. But the fear and possibility of converting an aquifer or wellspring into creepy magic fairy undead sex water remained, so it seemed best to be safe. Eugene stood in a space that would simply collect the water if it splashed too far or remained behind.

  He mimed the motion for the container several times as a practice. When no more practice seemed necessary, Eugene looked at his mom, and she looked back with calm and kind eyes and the faintest nod.

  "Okay. I'll do it."

  He reached over, seized the water firmly, tilted it upwards, and held it precisely over his head. It spilled out and splashed over him.