Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 29
This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets challenges, his soul mate and many other soon to be friends.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental.
The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move.
This work is copyrighted by Boethiuscell@gmail.com © 2023
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Chapter 29--Burgers and Bros
Chris and Tom were sitting on the balcony with coffee and the Sunday paper like the ten million other New Yorkers when Beach announced that Chaz was at the unit door. Chris told Beach to let him in. Chris heard through the patio door Beach's faint voice telling Chaz that Sir was on the balcony. Chaz threw himself down in a chair in full Victorian desultory despair. "Boyd is not answering my texts or emails." Chaz slouched in his chair, hair uncombed, clothes rumpled, voice breathy and unsteady. "I know that it is totally irrational to feel this way after only a few days but there is a vacuum in me." Chaz sighed, rose, and went into the kitchen.
"Is he getting a knife?" Chris quietly asked Tom. "Don't want my new knives to be part of a crime scene for at least another four weeks." Chaz returned with a cup of coffee and a cruller.
"I thought I might help you prepare for your first barbeque. Better than mopping at Tom's place."
"Much better to mope here where everyone can enjoy your funk." Tom was mostly serious about the statement but also concerned. Chaz looked at Tom ready to cast a scathing retort, but decided that he did not have the energy.
"Yes," Chris said brightly, "I do need your help. I have no clue which dishes to use."
"What are you serving and how many?"
"Burgers: beef, turkey and vegan, potato salad, coleslaw, vegetable and pickle tray, ice cream sundaes for dessert."
"Very informal, very cliché." Chaz looked at Chris. "Good choice since you are green when it comes to entertaining." Chris rolled his eyes at Tom, but happy that Chaz was now in designer mode. "Beverages?"
"Mostly beer. I have eight kinds from pale Indian ale to crude oil stout. There is wine for the more delicate palate." Chaz mostly drank wine or an occasional cocktail.
"Completely appropriate beverages, but need nonalcoholic like lemonade and ice tea." Chaz drummed his fingers on the patio table. "Eating inside or out?"
"I expect ten total at the table, so inside."
"Right." Chaz though, "Right. Your handmade ceramic dinnerware set will do just fine. You know which ones." Chaz looked at Chris for confirmation, but Chris had no clue. Chaz did not notice Chris's ignorance. "Think they are still in a box in the storage unit. I'm on it." Chaz stood and left with purpose. Four minutes later he was back, "Yes?" asked Chris, raising an eyebrow. "I need access. The door is locked." Chaz's arms were across his chest impatient. "Beach-give Chaz access to the storage room. This place is yours; you need to control it." Chaz marched off.
"That should keep him entertained for many hours." Chris chuckled to Tom. "The storage room is nothing but boxes waiting to be opened." Chris sat back and poured himself more coffee from the carafe. Chris gave an exaggerated sigh. "Need to get the place cleaned." Chris took another sip of coffee. "Beach-I need the living area and media area swept and dusted." Chris giggled into his coffee cup. "Cleaning is such a bitch."
"Sir," Beach's voice was heard only on the balcony. "The room vacuum has power for ninety-four minutes. It will clean the living area. I have instructed Rosie to dust around and not move anything." Beach continued in an exasperated tone. "She is so clumsy at times, the poor dear."
Chris laughed. He knew in his mind that Beach was just an algorithm, but his heart loved the curmudgeon personality. "S'pose we need to get things ready." Chris grabbed Tom's hand a little too desperate. "I've never entertained before and this is the first of three this week."
Tom kissed Chris on the forehead. "You will do fine. You serve food and booze and anything else is forgiven."
Chris chuckled, "That I will, you will be here Friday when I fete the co-op."
"What time?"
"7:30. Louis and Ollie will be here in the afternoon to help. Still working on a menu. Louis gave me three menus. I need to ask Millie if anyone has allergies or food dislikes. I want fresh flowers, the very good china, which Chaz says I have. Should I use place cards? My mother liked to use them. I thought it was pretentious, but this is my first, and I need to make a good impression. I need to select music or should I hire someone to play? I also need to find out what everyone likes to drink, set up a full bar. Do I need a bartender? I need to call a cleaning service to have the place done over completely. I need to find if I have guest towels and soaps. I need some candles, but nothing fruity. Then what do I wear? I think a tux might be too much but."
Tom forced his lips onto Chris's. "Hush, you are over thinking. You are already living here; they can't kick you out. And if they tried, Millie would tear them a new one. Relax, get through today." Chris relaxed and took another kiss from Tom.
"Sir, two unidentified guests at the main door." A small plaque by the kitchen window lit up with Zoe and Slim's faces. He heard Slim comment on the architraves over the windows. Chris's voice over the speaker did not startle either. Chris gave directions to the elevator and his unit. When Chris opened the door, Chaz, with cups on four fingers, was already talking to them.
"Welcome, welcome, I'm so glad you are here." Chris kissed Zoe on the cheek and gave Slim a huge hug. "Come in." Chaz followed them. "This is it, my place, still a little work to do, but mostly together, considering I've moved in just a week ago."
Chris gently guided Zoe and Slim out of the way so he could close the door. They did not seem to want to move; they just stood and stared. "Please go sit down." Tom had moved over to the sofa and waved them over. "Can I get you anything to drink? Beer, wine, coffee?" Beer they both said. "What kind?" When Slim said whatever, Chris pulled him over to the refrigerator drawer that held all the beer. Slim chose a Founder's Porter for himself and Brooklyn Brewery IPA for Zoe. Chris retrieved a glass for Zoe; Slim was a bottle man.
"Hey," Tom grouched, "you didn't offer anything to Chaz and I?"
"Neither of you are company, so get your own."
"Hear that Chaz, spend a few days with him and he treats you like dirt." Tom then laughed. "What you want Chaz?" Tom grabbed beers for both. Chris settled for water.
"Tour!" Zoe said as she stood. Zoe admired the piano; Chris said a gift from the other tenants. Chris showed the media room. Zoe asked about the second bedroom. The Murphy bed surprised them less than the retractable wall. They went out on the balcony; since it was to be in the eighty's Chris extended the sunscreen. They liked the closet space, and the spacious bathrooms. The toilet fascinated Slim; he played with it for 10 minutes. They thought the bedspread was a work of art.
Slim suddenly knelt on the floor before the two paintings. "Original?" Chris said yes, a gift from Ariel and Cedrick Greenwood. "a student of Turner?"
Chris grinned, "No actually they are Turner's." Slim's hand shook as he delicately picked up one by the stretcher; he sat full on the floor. He held the painting at arms' length and then close to his face; he turned the painting sideways so he could examine the thickness of the paint. He picked up the other one and did the same.
"Might as well leave him," Zoe laughed, "He'll sit here for five hours." She grabbed Slim's elbow. "Up dear. I'm sure that Chris will let you study them anytime you want." Slim reluctantly stood.
"I've studied Turner in classes and seen his works in museums, but to hold not one but two." Slim glanced back at them as Zoe led him out of the room. "You need them suitably framed." Chris agreed. "Don't go to anyone on Manhattan, overpriced, I know someone, mostly retired, old-world craftsman. He'd give the Turner's justice. He respects the piece."
In the kitchen area Tom and Chaz were arguing over leaving the dinnerware on the counter for people to pick up or to set the table. Chris settled it by deciding on the table and family style. "Told you," scoffed Tom, "I know my man."
Slim requested Chaz to help install the art pieces; Chris, Tom and Zoe, set the table, and finished food prep. "Beach-MM Day playlist whole house." Soft rock wafted through the room. Chris grabbed Zoe and moved her to the mirror over the fireplace. "Zoe, I need to introduce you to Beach. Beach-This is Zoe Clinton, a friend." Chris ran over and dragged Slim to the mirror, "Beach-This is Slim Clinton, a friend." Beach a few seconds later, "Sir, Zoe Clinton and Slim Clinton have been added to the contact as friends."
"What the hell was that, dude?"
"That is Beach, my virtual butler. Next time you stop over you will be automatically let into the entrance."
"He sounds English." Zoe was looking at Chris and his giddy demeanor.
"Oh, he is very British. Named after the butler in P G Wodehouse books," Chris leaned into Slim and Zoe. "He has an attitude problem."
"Hey a little help over here." Chaz yelled. He was holding the massive installation against the wall. Slim rushed back to lend a hand. Slim found wall studs and soon the Gothic arch was mounted in ten places.
"That sucker is heavy," Slim said as he and Chaz stepped away to look at it, "A bit over 500 pounds. "Now Chris, this is over an electrical outlet." Slim pointed to behind the piece. "It is already plugged in and the switch is on the underside in the center." Slim bent down and toggles the switch. It glowed like a cathedral window but felt modern and secular. It filled the wall behind the dining room table. "What do you think?"
"It's perfect." Chris said stepping back to admire it. The piece had three main panels below a massive flame like wood filigree. Each panel had tendrils of stained glass: one shades of blue and greens, another yellows and brown, and the final reds and purples. The glass floated up in fragments among photographs, newspaper clipping, and torn magazine ads. Parts were over pasted with colored tissue paper. While the frame made the piece vertical, waves of patterns and colors flowed across the three panels. In the lower right corner in an art nouveau script was "Today's Tomorrow's Yesterday. S Clinton."
"Slim," Chris finally said after a good five minutes of silence. "The Turner's on the floor in my bedroom are not a third as magnificent as this." Chris went and hugged Slim; Chris's face was in Slim's chest and a couple of tears at the edges of his eyes. "Thank you for letting me own this." Slim uncertain on what to do, just patted Chris's back. Tom piped up about getting food together; the course of life resumed.
"Sir, Masters Juan and Zack were just admitted through the front door." Chris always had to restrain himself from saying "thank you" to a computer.
"Hey, Chris, gang, how they all hanging?" Juan yelled as he and Zack walked in. "We're a little early if you need help."
"Want to toss the fruit salad." Chris said as he gave both a hug. "How is the new place?"
"Love it." Juan said. "Did it in all the rooms?" Zack added. "Since it was only one room and a bathroom we needed repeats," Juan said with a grin.
"Even the closet?" Chris asked as he handed them a bowl and fruit to peel and slice.
Juan and Zack looked at each other, snickered. "Tonight." "Yeah plenty of room." "Thanks Chris"
Zoe and Tom joined Juan and Zack at the kitchen counter. "You wore your peckers off yet?" Tom laughed.
"Nope," Zack grabbed his crotch, "Think it is the reverse."
"Hon," Zoe casually said, "that's called a hard-on."
Chris, forming turkey burger patties, smiled to himself pleased that his friends were all compatible. While he had friends in grade school and high school, that ended abruptly that December. And until he met Tom, it was just Hank and Dion. Now he could fill a table of twelve, and who knew when it came to the open house. Maybe thirty. What really humbled Chris was that everyone in this room knew he was in transition, metamorphosing, and were supportive and loving. The flood of acceptance overwhelmed him. He could not move. "You okay Chris?" Tom had moved from his stool and was hugging Chris lightly. The hug, reassuring, comforting, loving was too much; Chris ran to his bedroom.
"He okay?" Zoe asked. The concern was genuine.
"He'll be fine. It is the fertility hormones make him more emotional." Tom reassured Zoe.
Zoe nodded to Tom. "Slim knows that well during my cycle." Tom left to join Chris.
Chris was sitting on a chair staring out a window that overlooked the park. Tom sat in a chair opposite him, remaining silent. "Sorry about this." Chris pulled another tissue from the box in his hand. The one in his hand was in shreds. "I don't know why I'm like this." Tom reached across the small table. He and Chris will sit here and have coffee in the morning, once they settle in. Tom said nothing. "I mean. The tears are not because I am sad or hurt. I mean it's just the reverse." Chris took a couple of short sharp breaths. "It's that seeing everyone." A slight shiver. "I mean seeing everyone and the acceptance they have of me. This freak of nature--a cuntboy--it is overwhelming."
"I don't know where you heard the word `cuntboy', but you are neither a cunt or a boy. You are a man, a strong, brave, determined, loving, kind, considerate, compassionate man." Tom grinned at Chris. "Want me to continue with more." Chris's laugh was small and tentative, the first glimmer of sunshine on an overcast day. "You are inventive, curious, creative, thoughtful, sexy, seductive, playful, teasing, and a great lay." Chris's smile broke the clouds.
"I am sorry about the melt down. I just looked around and saw friends. People that liked me and wanted to spend time with me. Guess the impact overwhelmed me."
"Chris." Tom knelt beside Chris taking both hands in his. "You do not know how special you are and how you make others feel to be around you. You attract good people because you are a good person. You may not like how your body looks, that will change. For the people out there in your living room, and all your other friends whether or not you have tits or a dick is secondary to your being fundamentally a good person." Chris knew Tom was right. The people in the living room made him a better person, a stronger person. "We need to get back to the preparations, you have a barbeque to throw." Tom helped Chris stand. Together they walked back into the living room to the chatter of friends.
"Everything good?" Zoe quietly asked Tom. Tom assured her that Chris was better than good. Beach announced Chet and Hector. Chaz was on edge, uncertain if Boyd would show.
Tom, Slim and Chet went into the media room to play video games. Zoe, Chaz, Hector and Chris gathered in the kitchen as Chris put finishing flourishes on the food and placed the items on the table. Chris persuaded Tom and Chet to cook the burgers and do the fries--the grill had a deep fryer. Just as the food on the grill was done, Boyd arrived looking like crap.
"Hey Chris, sorry I'm late. My brother and I have been at odds, so I am not sleeping well." Chris gave Boyd a reassuring hug. "He thinks I'm an idiot to marry Lizette. He just does not see that I need to do the right thing."
"I get cha." Chris frowned. "I trust that you will do the right thing." Chaz saw Boyd and beamed, but then saw Boyd refuse to return the look. "Chaz has been antsy about you being here. I have never seen someone so smitten as he is over you. What will you do about him? He deserves to know the truth, because I think you are smitten too."
Boyd's body seemed to emotionally collapse into itself. "I don't know. I know I must. But with Chaz, I can see a future with him. If it weren't for Lizette and the baby, I would be all over him." Boyd looked at Chaz, who now had his back to Chris and Boyd. Boyd could tell from the tension in Chaz's shoulders that Chaz was upset.
"You need to do what you need to do; what is best for you and Chaz. You have two choices to make: You make Chaz happy or you make Lizette happy. Or make all three of yourselves miserable. That is what marriage will do; make everyone miserable."
"But I need to take responsibility for my baby, and I will not have it born a bastard."
"Fifty years ago, the notion of a child being a bastard was a legitimate concern, but today, no one cares." Boyd's body language was resistance, arms crossed legs set wide apart, face neutral. "It is your choice Boyd, and I will respect any decision you make." Chris moved Boyd into the living area and next to Chaz. "Chaz, Boyd needs to talk to you in my bedroom." Boyd pulled away from Chris then tensed then told Chaz that they needed to talk. The two went into Chris's bedroom. The only sound from the two was "You're a fucking idiot." from Chaz. Ten minutes later, after Chris told them food would be on in fifteen, Chaz and Boyd walked out of the bedroom: two cars on separate roads. Despite the continued tension between Boyd and Chaz, the meal passed in raucous conviviality.
The sundaes were served in the living room with dessert beers--Oatmeal Raisin Cookie, Noa Pecan Mud, or Stone Xocoveza. Boyd and Chaz sat at other ends of the seating area, but they couldn't stop looking at each other. "Chris," Boyd said. "I brought my flute. I thought we might play together: you piano, me flute."
"Sweet," Chris was stoked by the idea for two reasons: the chance to play with Boyd and to reduce the tension between Chaz and Boyd. "Didn't know you played."
"Since I was five. I was in the high school orchestra, and I was a NYSSMA festival soloist and ensemble player for two years, my junior and senior year in high school."
"That is impressive." Slim said. "I mean they select only about 900 students a year out of thousands to perform." Chris, Chaz and Tom asked for more details. "It is the New York State School Music Association. My mother was on the board for a couple of years when I was young. Highly competitive and prestigious."
"Scares the shit out of me." Chris laughed as he took a seat at the piano. "I'm more lowbrow than classical. Why don't you play something first--just you."
Boyd was a tad nervous, but since he had suggested it, he was committed. Boyd lifted the flute to his lips and a pure tone and exotic melody filled the room--Syrinx by Debussy, Chris recognized. Within three minutes Boyd was done, but the music lingered. "Wow," Chaz said. Boyd blushed. "I want to play C. P. E Bach's flute sonata, just the second movement because it is my favorite." Boyd played the lively section, his fingers dancing along the keys, sprites playing tag. Boyd finished to wild applause from the group.
"Sir," Beach's baritone said. "Friends Liam and Millie are at the door."
Tom opened the door. "Hope you don't mind us crashing the party." Millie said as she walked in past Tom. Liam heard music when he was in the laundry room, immediately called me, and here we are." Liam just shrugged his shoulders, but also walked past Tom, who still had the door open.
"Please join us," Chris graciously said. "I think you have met everyone except Boyd; the guy with the flute. He works with me." Chris had moved to give Millie a hug; he was about to shake Liam's hand but Liam insisted on a hug too. "Would you like refreshments and there is still food left. Please help yourself." Liam fixed himself a plate of everything while Millie did the fruit medley. Once everyone was ensconced in seats, Chris said. "Boyd is a very talented flautist. He is going to play another solo piece then we will play together." Millie clapped enthusiastically.
"I'm going to play Bozza's Image for Solo Flute. This won me a soloist place my senior year." As Boyd played he was transformed and transported into a time when he was younger and played b-ball with his older brother, when life was innocent and sweet.
"Delightfully, very delightful." said Millie, "almost a game of hide and seek." Boyd swallowed some beer. "And you played it so well. I can see why you won."
"Do you know Monti's czardas?" Boyd asked Chris. Chris said he knew the piano version. "There is one with flute and piano. You play and I can follow. And if we fuck up, we fuck up."
"That's the right attitude boy." Liam said in his barrel voice. Chris and Boyd were a little tentative at first, but soon the trills and rolls of the Hungarian dance relaxed then to boisterous fun, interplay between the two instruments. The four-minute piece was extended to ten as they improvised and played off each other. Each of them ended with a theatrical flourish: Chris standing and pounding the last notes on the piano, and Boyd, after the last note, brandishing his flute like a sword in salute.
Chaz cornered Boyd telling him that they needed to talk later. Then Chaz found Chris. "Do you know that Boyd plans to get married?" Chris nodded, wanting Chaz to control the conversation. "You know that this is an idiotic action on his part." Again, Chris just nodded. "I really think we have feelings for each other and may be at the start of something amazing."
"I agree Chaz. You are perfect for each other." Chris found himself another beer and then led Chaz to the balcony. "Boyd has this strong sense of honor and responsibility. Even if it is misplaced. I do not think that the impending baby is his, but he will not think anyone would lie to him about something so important. But it is often the important things that people lie about."
"Yeah, but that does not help the situation or change Boyd's mind."
"True, but arguing with him about it will only solidify his resolve. You need to give him a viable option and a way to honorably change his mind."
Chaz gave an ironic laugh, "Right now, I want to strangle him and then drag him to Chicago and lock him up."
"That might work, but then you would be in jail. Tough on a relationship. Another option is to support his decision. I mean really support." Chris paused to look at Chaz. "Do you want children?"
That comment caught Chaz by surprise. "Yeah, I do. Don't know how it will happen. And my life has been too wild to bring a child into it. But once I find a partner, a husband, yes I would."
"I can see you with children; you'll make a good father. Now with Boyd, discuss children and raising children. Discuss your dreams of a family. Since you are moving to New York, discuss how you would like Boyd to be part of it and how much you regret that he will not be." Chris studied Chaz for a few seconds. "Make him feel guilty about how he is hurting you."
"You are very devious, Chris. I like how you are thinking." The small chuckle from Chaz held possibilities. "The marriage is a guilt trip for him. Add another and he has a dilemma. Either choice hurts someone." Chris and Chaz walked back inside. "If I can grow his affection for me, which is already pushing through the ground. This may work. But I need the intended to back off too. And Boyd's family."
"From what Boyd has hinted, his family is not in favor of the marriage. And the young lady might be persuaded to change her mind. I gather that she chose Boyd because she sees him as the best chance for her baby. I cannot fault that motive, just the method."
Boyd walked up to Chris and Chaz, nervous about being close to Chaz. "Want to play some more, Chris."
"Love too." Chris walked to the piano. Chaz tugged Boyd close and whispered that he would support Boyd's decision, and they needed to talk later. Chris and Boyd played for 45 minutes, show tunes, a couple of classical pieces, and pop melodies. Out of mutual repertoire, the two stopped and conversation became the music.
Chet pulled Chris aside. "Thanks for the tip on Toby Jackson. We have a conversation about a T. J. but no reference. Toby may be that dude. He is one mean fellow if it is the same. You need to watch out for him."
"I'm already on his list because he wants me to drop Tom so that Tom can be his bitch." Chet stared at Chris, worry on his forehead. "He was pimping Tom out without Tom knowing it." Chris glanced over to Tom, who was chatting with Hector and Liam. "Toby is devious and dangerous, but I will be careful."
"Does anyone else know about this?"
"I told Tom that Toby wanted him back. But no one except you."
"You need to tell Tom everything and your bosses." Chris gave a noncommittal shrug.
By 5:30 most everyone left except for Chaz and Boyd. Chris pulled Boyd aside and asked that he bring Lizette to his open house Saturday. Boyd was thrilled to think Chris was giving approval. Boyd ended up going home with Chaz to Tom's place. Chris and Tom started to clean up, but then Chris decided he had a maid. "Rosie-put dirty dishes in the kitchen sink and clean spills." Rosie appeared with a bussing bin and picked up dishes, beer bottles, and paper trash. It all went into the same bin. Chris gave Tom a resigned look. "At least it will all end in the kitchen." Rossie picked up one of Chris sandals, which he had discarded on the floor, and threw it in the trash with the dishes. "Lot to learn."