“Well, ” I sympathized, “I know how you feel. But killing him-just for doing what comes naturally — hmm… Did you struggle? —
“Huh? What’s that got to do with it? —
“Quite a bit. Maybe he deserves a couple of broken arms for running out on you, but-“
“He deserves worse than that! Wait till you hear. Somehow I kept anyone from suspecting and decided it was all for the best. I hadn’t really loved him and probably would never love anybody-and I was more eager to join the WE. N. C. H. E. S. than ever. I wasn’t disqualified, they didn’t insist on virgins. I cheered up.
“It wasn’t until my skirts got tight that I realized.—
“Pregnant? —
“He had me higher “n a kite! Those skinflints I lived with ignored it as long as I could work-then kicked me out, and the orphanage wouldn’t take me back. I landed in a charity ward surrounded by other big bellies and trotted bedpans until my time came.
“One night I found myself on an operating table, with a nurse saying, “Relax. Now breathe deeply. “
“I woke up in bed, numb from the chest down. My surgeon came in. “How do you feel? ” he says cheerfully.
“Like a mummy. —
“Naturally. You’re wrapped like one and full of dope to keep you numb. You’ll get well-but a Cesarean isn’t a hangnail.
“Cesarean” I said. “Doc — did I lose the baby? “
Oh, no. Your baby’s fine. “
Oh. Boy or girl? “
“‘A healthy little girt. Five pounds, three ounces. “
“I relaxed. It’s something, to have made a baby. I told myself I would go somewhere and tack “Mrs. ” on my name and let the kid think her papa was dead — no orphanage for my kid!
“But the surgeon was talking. “Tell me, uh-” He avoided my name. “did you ever think your glandular setup was odd? “
“I said, “Huh? Of course not. What are you driving at?“
“He hesitated. I’ll give you this in one dose, then a hypo to let you sleep off your jitters. You’ll have “em. “
“‘Why? I demanded.
Ever hear of that Scottish physician who was female until she was thirtyfive? — then had surgery and became legally and medically a man? Got married. All okay. “
‘What’s that got to do with me? “
“‘That’s what I’m saying. You’re a man. “
“I tried to sit up. What? “
“Take it easy. When I opened you, I found a mess. I sent for the Chief of Surgery while I got the baby out, then we held a consultation with you on the table-and worked for hours to salvage what we could. You had two full sets of organs, both immature, but with the female set well enough developed for you to have a baby. They could never be any use to you again, so we took them out and rearranged things so that you can develop properly as a man. He put a hand on me. “Don’t worry. You’re young, your bones will readjust, we’ll watch your glandular balance — and make a fine young man out of you. “
“I started to cry. “What about my baby? “
“Well, you can’t nurse her, you haven’t milk enough for a kitten. If I were you, I wouldn’t see her-put her up for adoption. “
“‘No! “
“He shrugged. “The choice is yours; you’re her mother — well, her parent. But don’t worry now; we’ll get you well first. “
“Next day they let me see the kid and I saw her daily — trying to get used to her. I had never seen a brand-new baby and had no idea how awful they look — my daughter looked like an orange monkey. My feelings changed to cold determination to do right by her. But four weeks later that didn’t mean anything. —
“Eh? —
“She was snatched. —
“‘Snatched? —
The Unmarried Mother almost knocked over the bottle we had bet. — Kidnapped — stolen from the hospital nursery! ” He breathed hard. — How’s that for taking the last a man’s got to live for? —
“A bad deal, ” I agreed. — Let’s pour you another. No clues? —
“Nothing the police could trace. Somebody came to see her, claimed to be her uncle. While the nurse had her back turned, he walked out with her. —
“Description? —
“Just a man, with a face-shaped face, like yours or mine. — He frowned. — I think it was the baby’s father. The nurse swore it was an older man but he probably used makeup. Who else would swipe my baby? Childless women pull such stunts — but whoever heard of a man doing it? —
“What happened to you then? —
“Eleven more months of that grim place and three operations. In four months I started to grow a beard; before I was out I was shaving regularly… and no longer doubted that I was male. — He grinned wryly. — I was staring down nurses necklines. —
“Well, ” I said, “seems to me you came through okay. Here you are, a normal man, making good money, no real troubles. And the life of a female is not an easy one. —
He glared at me. — A lot you know about it! “
“So? —
“Ever hear the expression “a ruined woman’? —
“Mmm, years ago. Doesn’t mean much today. —
“I was as ruined as a woman can be; that bum really ruined me — I was no longer a woman… and I didn’t know how to be a man. —
“Takes getting used to, I suppose. —
“You have no idea. I don’t mean learning how to dress, or not walking into the wrong rest room; I learned those in the hospital. But how could I live? What job could I get? Hell, I couldn’t even drive a car. I didn’t know a trade; I couldn’t do manual labor-too much scar tissue, too tender.
“I hated him for having ruined me for the W. E. N. C. H. E. S., too, but I didn’t know how much until I tried to join the Space Corps instead. One look at my belly and I was marked unfit for military service. The medical officer spent time on me just from curiosity; he had read about my case.
“So I changed my name and came to New York. I got by as a fry cook, then rented a typewriter and set myself up as a public stenographer — what a laugh! In four months I typed four letters and one manuscript. The manuscript was for Real Life Tales and a waste of paper, but the goof who wrote it sold it. Which gave me an idea; I bought a stack of confession magazines and studied them. — He looked cynical. — Now you know how I get the authentic woman’s angle on an unmarried-mother story… through the only version I haven’t sold — the true one. Do I win the bottle? —
I pushed it toward him. I was upset myself, but there was work to do. I said, “Son, you still want to lay hands on that so-and-so? —
His eyes lighted up-a feral gleam.
“Hold it! ” I said. — You wouldn’t kill him? —
He chuckled nastily. — Try me. —
“Take it easy. I know more about it than you think I do. I can help you. I know where he is. —
He reached across the bar. — Where is he? —
I said softly, “Let go my shirt, sonny-or you’ll land in the alley and we’ll tell the cops you fainted. — I showed him the sap.
He let go. — Sorry. But where is he? — He looked at me. — And how do you know so much? —
“All in good time. There are records — hospital records, orphanage records, medical records. The matron of your orphanage was Mrs. Fetherage — right? She was followed by Mrs. Gruenstein — right? Your name, as a girl, was “Jane” — right? And you didn’t tell me any of this — right? —
I had him baffled and a bit scared. — What’s this? You trying to make trouble for me? —
“No indeed. I’ve your welfare at heart. I can put this character in your lap. You do to him as you see fit — and I guarantee that you’ll get away with it. But I don’t think you’ll kill him. You’d be nuts to — and you aren’t nuts. Not quite. —
He brushed it aside. — Cut the noise. Where is he? —