Peter shook his head but remained silent. He wondered if he’d be able to run in high heels and quickly decided that he probably couldn’t. He imagined trying and failing, twisting his ankle in the process. He imagined passers by coming to his aid and their bemused looks, their smirks and giggles at the boy in high heeled shoes… the boy with girl’s hair, girl’s eyebrows, pink nails and smudged lipstick… clutching his ankle, unable to walk without assistance. He imagined walking as gracefully as he could, hoping nobody would discover his true gender. He imagined being recognised. ‘What the fuck’s Pete dressed as?’ they’d sneer from the museum steps. Would he stop and try to explain? More likely he’d just keep walking… hoping they’d leave him be.
“All done.” Heather said as she cut the cotton. “I’d advise you don’t try to run in these Peter.” she said as she put the sewing kit back in her bag.
“A tight pencil skirt would have been nice.” Margo said. “That’d keep him to a walking pace.”
Heather grinned and giggled. “It would, but he’d have suspected something if I’d bought him a skirt suit instead.” she said as his chair was returned to its upright position. “Saying that… I expected him to notice straight away that it wasn’t a man’s suit I’d bought him.”
Peter gulped. He knew something was odd about it. In retrospect he should have known. He kicked himself for being so gullible, but he should have known something like this might happen. He has after all been petticoated on numerous occasions as a child… and each and every time he’d brought it on himself. But that was all long in the past, an aspect of his childhood he kept hidden away.
“We really should pierce his ears too.” Margo suggested.
“Yeah…. I was thinking of that, but…” Heather seemed unsure. “…yeah lets do it.” she decided. “In for a penny eh?” she said to Peter who appeared to be shamefully and silently accepting his fate.
“Ow!” he yelped as the first stud went in.
“Oh sorry Peter, I forgot to numb them first.” Margo said in a sarcastic tone.
“Ow!” he yelped as the second stud went in.
Within a minute, each earlobe is home to two sterling silver studs. Margo checks her watch. “Five minutes ’til his rollers come out.”
“I can’t wait.” Heather replied. She gazes at her son. His head covered in an inflated plastic cap. His eyebrows arched and feminine. His ears glisten. His eyes heavy and sad. His mouth, silent and still. “I think three times would be nicer.” Heather suggested.
Peter’s heart sink even lower as a third stud was punched through each earlobe. Finally, the plastic cap was removed from his head. He gulped as he glanced at his reflection. Aside from the head full rollers, the arched eyebrows and his glistening ear studs, his all too familiar face sat in the middle of it all. One by one, Margo removed the rollers and bit by bit, his hair fell in loose curls around his face… his all too familiar face. He hoped the inevitable make-up would render him unrecognisable.
“I think he’s actually enjoying this.” Margo said as he sat perfectly still as she applied a dusting of foundation.
“I just want it to be over.” Peter moaned.
“Oh it will be before long.” his mother assured. “Maybe if I’d continued petticoating you through high school we wouldn’t be here now.” she suggested.
