T-Rod
…2 months later
Drake Parker didn't know if it was the recent ultimatum from his mother to start working again or an
inner spark of his own, but he wanted to play his music again. It felt like it was time to start another
band. He was quite sick of moping around and slacking. He needed to do something with his life.
He was aimlessly leafing through the vintage vinyl records at Empire Records that was not far from
his old house. Drake thought of driving by just to see the outside, but he couldn't bear seeing other
people occupy what really was HIS (their?) house.
"Wow," Drake said to himself letting the Frozen Bobsleds album fall back into its slot, "Hey,
Dave—who is that? I need a bass player."
He had flyers in his car to put up all over every available telephone pole in San Diego that he was
looking to start up a new band.
The bass playing coming from the back room was amazing.
Dave owned Empire Records and has known Drake Parker since he started coming in here in junior
high. A man of about 5'7" came out of the back room with his brown mahogany Ibanez SR506
bass strapped to him. His hair was jet black and more Mick Jagger than Paul McCartney. He wore
a blue button down shirt with the first three buttons undone, lightly flared worn Levi's, and old
school black Chuck Taylor's.
"Was that you back there, man?"
"Did I hear you say you needed a bass player?"
Drake liked where this was going.
"Drake Parker."
"Tommy Rodriguez. But my friends call me T-Rod."
He had a solid handshake that impressed Drake.
"Do you like good, old fashioned rock and roll, T-Rod?"
"Is there any other kind?"
Yes. Even without having a formal audition to speak of, Drake was ready to cross off 'bassist
needed' on all of his flyers.
"Do you want me to hold that Frozen Bobsleds LP for you, Drake?" asked Dave.
"Nah. I'll get it next time, Dave."
That was two sales lost. Drake didn't buy the vinyl record and T-Rod decided not buy that new
Marshall amp.
"Are you in a hurry to go somewhere else?" Drake asked T-Rod when they got outside.
"Not really."
"Do you want to jam?"
Having conversations like this again, made Drake realize how much he missed it all. And how
terrible he felt recently nit-picking with Dina. None of what he was feeling was really her fault and he
knew it.
He was somehow going to have to make it all up to her.
"Sure…."
"Your car is a '85 red Camaro?"
"Yep." Drake hated still having to drive this god awful Impala. If Chevrolet could make the
awesome Camaro how was it possible that this same company also invented the uncool Impala?
"In case we get separated--," Drake opened up the passenger side door to take out a flyer, "Here's
my address."
"Who designed this flyer?" T-Rod liked the cool racing stripe style font in the 'D' and 'P' for Drake
Parker.
"My sister, Megan. She used Photodoc."
"I think I'm going to stop at Burger King first," T-Rod said, "Do you want anything?"
"Nah. I'm good."
And at that moment Drake Parker was.
Dina Nichols was not having a good day. Karen came around "wanting to hang out", but Dina had
to brush her off, because she really had to go somewhere. She didn't see their friendship lasting.
"Here's your pass," a woman at the table handed Dina her plastic laminate, "Third floor. First door
on your right."
"Thank you." She replied putting her pass around her neck. This was a place Karen should have
come to if Dina wasn't in such a "hurry" to get her out of her house.
Dina knocked on the plain white door. The voice coming from the intercom was unexpected and
made her jump a bit.
"How may I help you?"
"I'm Dina Nichols. I'm here to see Stephanie."
The intercom buzzed and she was told to open the door.
Inside was another barricade similar to that to the front of a doctor's office. She lightly tapped on
frosted sliding window.
"Would you please sign in, Miss Nichols?"
"Of course."
All of this heightened security made her physically ill.
Steven/Stephanie was thirteen years old and part of the Reach Out to Trans Youth Program that
Dina signed up for a month ago. It was important to give back to the TG community especially to
help the kid's out. Being a teenager was complex enough. These issues could make or break your
growing up. Break it if you had an ignorant family. Dina and the rest of helpers were there to stop
that.
"Hello, Stephanie." The young girl stared out the window. For some reason she was stripped out of
her jeans and basic green polo shirt. She was wearing a bra and boxers. The in-between stage really
sucked and Dina had no idea on what to say other than to just introduce herself and let the rest of
the words follow suit.
"Okay…you don't have to talk if you don't want to. My name is Dina. I know you're probably
thinking—another adult who doesn't get it. But not too long ago I was in your shoes. Literally
wearing those god awful men's Reebok's. Before I came out, I started wearing pantyhose under my
pants. No one could see them because I covered them with socks. But it made me feel feminine. A
touch against my skin I so desperately needed." Dina sat down on the swivel chair.
Stephanie reached up to pull off what was a brunette colored wig. "I hate myself. I hate not being
able to be ME." Dina watched as Stephanie opened up her knapsack that was on the floor and
spilled the contents on the table, "I want to grow out my own hair. I WANT to wear this bra
properly! I WANT to wear pretty panties! I WANT to chop off my male organs! I WANT my
father to accept me! He calls me a fag. A sentence that is wrong as I'm a woman who is attracted to
men…thank you very much!"
Dina was content to let Stephanie vent.
"Do you want me to do your face?"
"Would you? I bought regular cosmetics, but found online a transgender make up store. What do
you recommend, Dina?"
"All make up is good. But it is important to support the community when you can. But if one wants
to pass, I'd rather people see the mainstream brands on my vanity."
Stephanie sat on the counter as Dina sifted through her make-up.
"I'm sorry for venting like that."
"What? You had every right to, honey. Every right."
"I watch Oprah."
"Me too! I love her!"
"Tell me more about your pre-coming out days. If that's all right,
Dina."
"It's more than all right. I shared a room with my brother and that made things super tough for me,"
She dotted foundation on Stephanie's face, "Sometimes when I knew he was out cold. I'd take the
lipstick that I had hidden inside my pillowcase and I found a lighted compact at the drug store, "and
I would put on my lips. Anything to bring Dina out I had to do. There were some close calls and I
had to keep wet wipes by my bed. The bathroom was my refuge. I even quit the Spanish Club so I
could spend at least a few minutes MORE in the bathroom as Dina………"
She couldn't finish the rest of the story she could still hear Drake and Walter banging on the door.
As she scrambled like mad to tear off the false eyelashes without bruising her retina as she was
trying on and to reach for Audrey's Pond's cucumber cold cream to swish the entire
BEAUTIFULLY DONE make up off. The new bra clasp that ripped because she couldn't get it off
fast enough without blowing her cover. The pantyhose that needed to be covered with the ugly boy
jeans and tube socks. The baggy striped sweater that she hated and the "what were you doing in
there for so long?" calls. How she wanted to tell them the truth. How Dina wanted to know if Drake
would really be there for her? Would Walter accept it too? What would Mom and Megan think of
her as a woman?
"Dina, are you okay?" Stephanie asked
"Yes, Stephanie, I'm just sharpening your eyeliner pencil."
"No…you were thinking about your past."
"Guilty as charged. I can only imagine the HELL you are going through."
"My Mom cashed in her stocks and is letting me having my full surgery at sixteen for my birthday
present."
The mom's were ALWAYS supportive. At least it seemed that way to Dina. She did know some
ladies that had ignorant mothers and supportive fathers but they seemed to be in the minority.
"There are many advantages to starting early."
"Is it wrong to wish I could have a period?"
"No. Nothing that you are feeling, Stephanie, is wrong. That means we could get pregnant and that
would have been so wonderful. If only."
"I read some of the more fringe groups on the Internet that there are some girls who---."
"I'd stay away from those fringe groups. Lurk but don't post if you must be there.
May I put your wig back on?"
"Of course. I'm going start electrolysis and hormones soon, Dina."
"That will make SUCH a difference."
"Thank you for putting up with my shitty mood."
"No problem. You're entitled to have them."
"You will be coming back next week?" Stephanie smiled when Dina walked her to the full-length
mirror and held her chin up. Next they could work on wardrobe.
"Of course, kiddo."
"I'm glad."
And at that moment Dina Nichols was.
Later
She walked with a subtle sway of her hips. The tan purse was thrown on the coffee table and the
keys on the chunky yellow butterfly keychain followed. The mail was picked up with gentle hands.
The nails were shaped and painted pink. The sweater was an ivory faux cashmere, the skirt was
periwinkle and flouncy with ruffled edging, the stockings were nude with shimmer specks, and the
shoes were periwinkle Mary Jane styled sling-backs with a kitten heel. She shook her head and with
her free hand tousled her hair. Those beautiful blonde locks. Her eyes were piercing.
"Dina," Drake said coming into the movie, "I'd like you to meet my new bass player T-Rod. This is
my other sister, Dina."
She held out her hand, "Nice to officially meet you, T-Rod."
Holy shit. Fucking Wow.
"You can call me, Tommy."
"I have to get changed for work. Bye, Drake," she took a small breath, "Again, nice meeting you,
Tommy." Dina smiled as she walked upstairs.
"Your sister is fucking gorgeous, man." Tommy couldn't help but reveal the
truth to Drake. He needed another Mocha Cola. "I didn't mean that to sound disrespectful."
"No offense taken. She is gorgeous. Would you like me to set you two up?"
That came out of nowhere Drake thought, but all he knew was that he meant it.
"Would you? I'm too shy around pretty girls."
"Consider it done my friend."
Dina should have been in the shower, but she couldn't resist going on to her Yahoogroup and typing
a message to her TG friends.
…The reaching out program was a success and I will tell
everyone about it later, when I come home from work later on tonight.
But I have to be extra girly-girly for a moment and share
something with you all:
I think Mr. Right just walked into my life……
Hugs & Kisses,
Dina Nichols
p.s.—he's a bass player. xoxo