“Stand up straight, Adam,” Dad criticized, grabbing my shoulders and jerking them back, making me stagger across the front porch of the house. “Do you think any woman is going to respect a man who can’t even carry himself right?”

“Dad…” I mumbled, tugging at the collar of my shirt, trying to hide my entire body beneath the large coat I had on. Even though it was one of Dad’s old ones, it was still oversized on me. “I really don’t want to see this woman you’ve lined me up with…”

“Listen here boy, it’s embarrassing enough that you’ve clung to your mother and I for as long as you have,” he lectured. “You’re 16. You’ve got to stop acting like a scared little child and grow into a man. Do you understand, boy?”

“Yes…” I mumbled.

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir…”

“Dear, you’ve scolded the boy enough,” Mum whispered, grabbing Dad’s tie and straightening it. “Giving him a hard time in front of the lady won’t leave the best first impression, wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t kid yourself, Matilda,” he whispered, knocking on the front door. “A good first impression is an uphill battle for him.”

“Ah, the Murphy’s!” heartily laughed the gleefully-smiling man who answered the door. He held out a hand to my dad, which he took with an excited vigor. “Glad you could make it to dinner, Mark! And Matilda, you’re lovely as always!”

“How’s your daughter, Steven?” Dad asked.

“Maribelle is as lively as ever, even if we haven’t been able to break her habit of being a bit of a mischief maker…”

“It seems young Miss Smith is a bit of a rebel, isn’t she?” Mum chuckled.

“All too true… It’s going to make it hard for her to survive in this world, but… Oh, but how’re you, Adam? Growing into a charming young man, I presume?”

“I, um… yeah,” I nodded.

“Tell me, have you been able to acquire your own home yet?”

“Um…”

“He’s been having trouble,” Mum chimed in. “But we’ll get it taken care of soon.”

“Goodness, I’d get that taken care of sooner rather than later. At this rate, you won’t even be able to vote by the time you get to 21.”

“Funny how I’m over 21, but still can’t vote,” Mum grumbled.

“Honey, we’ve talked about this,” Dad groaned.

“You know, I’ve heard that women can vote in Washington territory. So why not New York? It’s the 1880s, not the 1780s! If you asked me, I think President Cleveland needs to make some changes here-”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk politics on the front steps,” Dad butted in with a laugh.

“Yes, yes, come in,” Mr. Smith beckoned, guiding us through the door. 

The inside was decorated with a lot of cast iron pots, pans, bells, whatever you could think of. He was known for being a really good blacksmith, and his son was a silversmith. The family actually made a few pieces of the kitchenware that we owned. He took us to the living room, where his wife and daughter were sitting in chairs, hands nearly folded in their laps. Although, one of them looked a lot more unhappy to sit there.

“Oh, it’s wonderful you could make it over for the evening,” Mrs. Smith chirped. “You see, Maribelle is just ecstatic to see all of you! Isn’t that right?”

“Very much so,” the girl pouted. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who was less than enthused to be forced to attend.

“Adam, how about you and Maribelle go get yourself acclimated with each other and leave us to our talk?” Mr. Smith suggested. “We’ve got some business to discuss and I think it’s a good idea for you two to get… familiar.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Dad agreed. I would’ve said something contrary if it weren’t for the fact that I’d never hear the end of it later.

“Ok…” I nodded, going along with the plan.

“This is so useless,” Maribelle grumbled, knocking over a decorative bowl of fruit stomping down a hallway, leaving us all speechless. Mr. Smith was the one to break the silence.

“Quite the firecracker, isn’t she?” he chuckled. “Now, now, Adam, you may be alone with my daughter, but be a good young gentleman and don’t go making any moves on her.”

“I-I won’t,” I reassured, going to follow the girl. Of course I had to hear one last comment from Dad before my way out.

“Trust me Steven, if any moves are made, he wouldn’t be the one to make them.”

Dad might’ve been degrading, but he wasn’t wrong. With those beautiful words of encouragement in my ear, I followed Maribelle to her room. In all honesty, this wasn’t the first time that I was brought over to the house of one of Mum or Dad’s friends to throw me at a woman. Honestly, I wasn’t very interested in them and haven’t been for a long time. Not that it stopped Mum or Dad from insisting that I’d come around at some point. Dad wanted me to pass on the family name and Mum wanted grandchildren. Who cares what I want though, right? Every other man down the road has a wife, four kids, three affairs, and a stable job. I still live with my parents and work at a candy store.

Disregarding how I felt wasn’t a new concept in my life. Ever since I was old enough to feel and have thoughts, opinions, and feelings of my own, I never felt like I was meant to fill a man’s role. Dad always said “Men are meant to work and provide!” if I even dropped so much as a hint at that though. Even if I never acted on them though, I was bad at hiding my feelings. Dad saw the way I dreamily looked at dresses and yearned to learn more cooking and how much I hated button-ups and his dream for me to follow him in the house construction workforce.

Every once in a while if he was in a bad mood, he would give belt lashings. Still though… What I would give to be an actual woman… Dad already knew I wanted to wear dresses, and he told me how disgusting my fantasies were. Day after day, he screamed at me that if I wanted to wear one, I could do it in the insane asylum. I knew what they did to people like me in there though. If I somehow came out alive, it would be with a chunk of my brain taken out. He thought I was some sick pervert or was mentally unwell with some disgusting sexual fantasies. I just accepted that I’d have to suffer in silence for the rest of my life…

“Um, hey,” I said to Maribelle, who was taking off her fancy shoes and throwing them at the wall, leaving marks next to identical ones. I guess she did this pretty often. “Are, um, you, ah, alright?”

“Do I look alright?” she growled.

“Um… Fair.”

Maribelle got up with a deadly frown and made her way to the door. It was actually a really fancy one with an iron lever handle that had intricate little flower designs on it. I’m guessing her father made it for her. She slammed it shut and shoved a side table in front of it, making it so if someone tried to open the door, the handle wouldn’t have been able to turn all the way. Uh oh, that can’t be good.

“What’s um, going on?” I asked nervously.

“Ok, let’s get this out of the way. Do you really want to marry and put your kids in me?”

“God, no- No offense, but no. I really don’t want to do that to any woman-”

“Good, then we’re in agreement that nothing’s going to come from this at all?” she asked very carefully. “You’re not attracted to me at all?”

“I’m, uh, I’m not interested in women in general.”

“Good,” she sighed in relief. “Because I’m going to need your clothes.”

“Wh-”

“We’ll just the shirt really, because I can improvise the pants. But hurry up with those clothes,” she clapped. “Chop chop, daisyhead.”

“Wait, wait!” I exclaimed, taken aback beyond the use of traditional words. “Why should I give you my clothes exactly…?”

“Listen, to me well,” Maribelle hissed, grabbing my tie and yanking it. “I’m not going to be any man’s ‘dainty little Mrs. Smith’ if I have anything to say about it, and I do!”

“B-But where do my clothes fit into this…?”

“I’ll never be able to make it out of the country as a woman before being hounded down and taken back to my father,” she said bitterly. “So I have two plans. Either I take your shirt and give you a corset to hide under that coat and I bide my time until I see an opportunity to run away, or I take everything you got and run away out the window now. I’ll even tie you to a chair or something to make it look like you tried to stop me.”

On one hand, this woman was insane and I shouldn’t listen to anything she says. On the other hand though… She did offer me a corset. Dad would never approve, but… this would probably be my only chance, and…

“Ok, fine,” I nodded. This was insane. I should’ve said no. Dad would’ve wanted me to say no… but on the other hand… It just felt right. Plus, Dad wasn’t here. “But I don’t want you watching me change.”

“If you insist,” she shrugged, pulling out a folding screen from behind her dresser. She handed me the corset and watched me disappear behind the screen. “What did you say your name was?”

“It’s… It’s Adam,” I sighed. I hated the name. It just never felt right, but it was the only one I had.

“Well Adam, can I ask why you’re so quick to help me?” she asked suspiciously. “You’re awfully eager to give me your clothes there.”

“Well, you clearly need them more than I do. And, well… I actually want the corset.”

“You want to dress like a woman?” she giggled. “Like one of those men in Shakespeare plays?”

“If I had a choice, I’d be a woman,” I sighed, only processing the words right after I said them. “Wait- But I know that’s dumb and… Just don’t bring it up again.”

“No no no,” she laughed. “You want to be a woman? Why? Being a woman in this world is horrible. You can’t do anything without permission from some man.”

“I don’t know, it just feels right,” I sighed. “What about you? Why run away? Where would you run away to?”

“There’s someone whom I love I want to run away with. Her name’s Elena. I’m going to dress as a man and pretend she’s my wife. Then we’re both going to cross over to Canada and live somewhere in the countryside where neither of our fathers will be able to find us.”

“My parents are from Canada, actually.”

“Really?”

“They said it wasn’t much to look at.”

“It’s got to be better than here,” Maribelle sighed. “Are you done yet?”

“A-Almost,” I groaned, trying to tie the back. “Can you-”

“I got you,” she smirked, grabbing the laces and yanking them so sudden and hard I could hear my back pop. “Oh, are you alright?”

“Never better…” I groaned painfully. “How do I look?”

“You’re missing some… upstairs padding, but other than that, you look fine,” she shrugged, tossing me my coat and carefully hiding my shirt under her bed. “Are you going to be able to get away with wearing that?”

“I’ll just keep my coat on. Dad won’t care.”

“Well, good luck in your endeavor to become a woman,” Maribelle smiled. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance someday.”

“I wish,” I sighed. “Although, it’s going to be hard to get through dinner with this thing on.”

“To be truthful, I don’t have any interest in having dinner with your family either… Oh! I have an idea, but you have to say I’ve fallen ill.”

“Um… okay?” I said, confused as she unblocked the door and opened it up. She leaned into the hallway to look around, which I joined her in. Nobody was watching. They must’ve been at the kitchen table to do their talk.

“Don’t panic, okay? Act all brave and comforting and hold me or something after I make a scene, alright? And yell in a really concerned voice about how sick I’ve fallen.”

“Wait what are you-”

Suddenly, the woman stuck a finger down her throat and gagged until throwing up in the hallway. I jumped backwards and yelped. Nope, this woman was crazy after all. I turned a bright pale and she shot me a glare.

“Come on,” she coughed. “Hold me and shout.”

“Help! I think she’s sick!” I shouted, holding Maribelle in my arms. Truthfully, I felt a bit bad lying to everyone like this. At the same time, I was eager to get away with sneaking out of the situation with a real piece of women's clothing to call my own.

“Good God, Maribelle, what happened?!” Mr. Smith cried, running down the hall with my dad.

“I… I’ve fallen ill, father,” she coughed pitifully. Wow… she could’ve been a proper actress with skills like that. “Please, I just want to rest for the rest of the night…”

“Of course, sweetie, of course” her father soothed softly, turning back to my Dad. “I’m sorry to cut this short, Mark. I know we were all going to sit down for dinner, but…”

“It’s alright,” Dad said, a bit disappointed.

“We’ll schedule again for some other time.”

“It’s a good thing Adam was here to help me,” Maribelle said dreamily.

“Well, thank you, boy,” Mr. Smith thanked me, shaking my hand as he took his daughter back. “I’m sorry about this, but thank you for being there for my daughter.”

“I-It’s my pleasure,” I said, my voice shaking with excitement. When nobody was looking, Maribelle flashed me a wink and mischievous smile. The Smith’s showed us out of their house, and we were left to walk home.

“So Adam, do you think she might be the one?” Dad asked, elbowing me.

“Don’t tease him, dear,” Mum scolded. “Let him enjoy a moment without being taunted.”

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, in a surprisingly good mood. “But you should’ve seen the way she swooned for the little man.”

I laughed out loud with him, but we were clearly finding different things funny. Not that it mattered to me though, because it felt like I just got away with murder. If only they knew. Oh boy, if only they knew…

*   *   *   *   *

The next morning, I came into the kitchen after having woken up only a little late to see Dad with his signature blood-chilling scowl. The one when something really bad had happened. I didn’t even have to ask what happened for him to start ranting when I came into the room.

“You know that girl you met last night? The Smith daughter?” he growled.

“Y-Yeah.”

“She’s gone! Missing without a trace. Steven’s raving mad about it now. He thinks someone’s gone and kidnapped her. The same thing has also happened to another woman the same age down the block.”

“That’s… unfortunate,” I coughed, trying to not look suspicious.

“And I thought she would be the woman to finally snap you out of your fantasies and shape up into an actual man,” he growled, grabbing his lunch and giving Mum a kiss. “I’ll be back after work.”

“Bye, dearie.”

“Bye, Dad.”

“Bye, you two,” he nodded, walking out and closing the door behind him. Apparently I had a smile on my face and didn’t realize it, because Mum turned around and giggled at me.

“What’s got you so happy?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I chuckled, racing back to my room and looking underneath my bed at the corset I was hiding. I just couldn’t stop giggling to myself when I thought about it. It was probably the only thing that’s ever made me this happy just before a work shift.