Robert's story continues:
I was very tired and what had happened between my roommates and me had me very confused. I knew then and know now that I like women. I like the way they smell, I like their smooth skin and gentle curves. I like their femininity. The only guys I ever found attractive were guys who were anything but hairy, angular, macho dudes, whether they were gay or straight. Cute Asian guys, with their small frames and hairless bodies always seemed attractive. No facial hair for me; no tattoos piercing and grunge. Clean people are sexy, whether they are men or women.These were some of the thoughts that were running through my muddled brain. What am I? What is gay? I had no answers.
I showered, took my razor out and began to shave, but my relatively light facial hair didn't seem to need a shave. Fine. I brushed my teeth, used some powder under my arms and between my legs, put on a dash of cologne and slipped into a pair of nice silk pajamas. My bed was very inviting and I feel into a deep sleep.
When I awoke, I looked at my clock and it showed 5 PM. I grabbed a spare pillow, wrapped my arms around it and lay on my side thinking. The sheets were soft and warm and I was feeling lazy and comfortable just lying there. A knock on my door shook me out of my daydreaming.
"Hey, Robert, aren't you ever coming out?" It was Tommy.
"Yes, I guess I need to" I cleared my throat. My voice sounded a little constricted.
I slid out of bed and suddenly felt strange. Something was different. A number of things were different. I stood staring down at two of them; two unmistakable small mounds of flesh under my pajama tops. What the hell? I must still be asleep. This is some kind of weird dream. I touched them. My breasts were definitely swollen. Not only that, but I had shrunk. My pajama bottoms completely covered my feet. I walked to the dresser and looked into the mirror. There were other, subtle changes. I looked younger, my face seemed smoother, my hair looked a bit longer. WHY? WHAT IS GOING ON? Even my hands looked smaller. On a sudden impulse, I reached down between my legs----------and fainted. Seconds later, I was awakened by a gentle slapping on his cheeks.
"Oh, Robert, wake up. This is all wrong. I'm so sorry." Tommy said.
"What? What wasn't supposed to happen? What are you talking about?"
"The potion." Tommy said lamely.
"What potion? What is going on and what is happening to me?"
"We put a potion in your coffee. We got it some time ago, along with other potions and some talismans from a little shop on Divisidero Street. The man secretly sells these things and this was supposed to be a potion that would help someone physically and mentally conform to their deepest personal desires by working with their chromosomal balance. When you seemed so unsure about who and what you were, we thought it would be helpful for you. I am so sorry!"
I tried to take this all in. It was a fantastic tale. There were no magic potions, even in San Francisco, where many odd and strange things take place. BUT, there was no doubt about the physical changes that were taking place in my body. When I earlier placed my hand between my legs, I felt only a much smaller penis. That was when I fainted. I began to cry and Roy began to cry. Roy reached out to hug me and the touch was oddly comforting. We held each other and cried. A gay and feminine man holding someone who was gradually becoming female.
When Roy came home, we all sat together to try to make some sense of what was happening. He was just as confused as we were and very apologetic.
"Believe me, Robert, the last thing we wanted to do was see you become a woman."
I turned to Roy, "I believe you and I guess I have to believe what is happening. Can we go back to that place and see if there is a remedy for this?"
None of my clothing fit, but Tommy was a smaller man and I was able to put some of his things on without looking too foolish. We went to the location on Divisidero Street and found that the shop was closed. Peering through the window, all we could see was an empty store. I stood there depressed, knowing that whatever was happening to me was going to continue and I would remain in that final form for the rest of my life. I suddenly felt very tired and I asked my roommates to take me home. I got into bed without even taking my clothes off and fell into a sound sleep, punctuated by a number of odd dreams.
One dream that I remember began with me dressed as a Gypsy girl doing a belly dance in front of a campfire. Gypsy men were all around, some of them playing instruments. They played faster and faster and I could not keep up with the pace of the music. In my dream I ran from the group into the woods nearby. That's all I remember. It seemed obvious when I awoke that I was trying to run away from what was happening to me. And what was happening was continuing. Tommy's clothes no longer fit. I ran into the bathroom and took my clothes off. A hot shower somehow seemed to a good idea. Before I got into the shower, I turned toward the full-length mirror on the back of the door. My breasts were larger; now a C cup, at least. My nipples had become larger and very sensitive. My hair was now down to shoulder length. I reached own and my worst fears were confirmed. My penis was gone and there was a soft mound of flesh in its place. I was a woman. I walked to the mirror and saw my face. It was me, but it was me as a young woman, with full lips, high cheekbones and a small slightly upturned nose. Robert was gone. I had lost my maleness and my identity. I sat on the edge of the tub and ran water for a bath. Guys shower. Women bathe. My face no longer needed a shave, but my legs and underarms did. Even though the hair was a very thin, downy blond, it was still hair. I sat in the tub for an hour; running hot water whenever it cooled. Finally, I took the razor and shaved my legs and underarms. The smooth skin reminded me of women I had been with in the past. I had to come to terms with all this. My mind may have been Robert's mind with Robert's memories, but my body---- my body needed a new name. Bobbi? No! Too cute. Maybe the guys could help me. I wrapped my hair in a towel, wrapped myself in another and went out of the bathroom to look for Roy and Tommy. They were waiting in the living room. After a long stare from both of them, Tommy got up, went into his room and brought our one of his bathrobes.
"Here, put this on. It's beats a bath towel anyway."
Without a thought of modesty, I dropped the towel and let Tommy help me with the robe. Then I remembered I wan't a guy anymore and I actually blushed. Oh, God, what next?
Roy said, "Look, we got you into this and we've been talking. You need some clothes and you need to talk to someone. I know this great therapist. She can help you work your way through these changes. How about it?"
What option did I have? "I guess so, sure. And, guys, I don't have any hard feelings. I know you meant well. I guess maybe this is the way things are supposed to be. But it will take a little time for me to adjust and I can use all the help I can get. I don't even have a name. None of my old identification works."
They were ready with an answer. A computer check of obituaries would come up with a name of someone who would be close to my age and new identity papers could be had with the help of an attorney friend. So, I would be whoever they found..
Two weeks and several therapy sessions later, I had clothes, I.D. and a little better sense of who I was: Rebecca "Becky" Abrams, a Jewish girl who died in an accident fourteen years ago at the age of nine. The Jewish part helped because I already understood the holy days and I was comfortable within Reform Judaism. Now, it was time to find a job and a life.