Misfits
Part Ten
They were alone on the porch, Father never liked lingering, he was always moving, always thinking, always working, cleaning up after the last hunt or preparing for the next. Keeping his attention for long was difficult under most circumstances and nearly impossible at a time like this. Shiloh needed him to be patient, now more than ever, and that was asking a lot.
“I am…”
Father was already looking down at a copy of the local city map he had printed out, he was making his usual notations and cutting Shiloh off. “We know, Kiddo. Wendy sort of soft pitched it all to me last year. You have absolutely nothing to worry about, ok. I love you, so does she. Whoever you choose to love as you grow up is your business. You need to realize though that our way of life, its lonely, we aren’t them and there are very, very few of us left as is. I want you to be happy, more than anything, but you also need to stay, and be safe. I wouldn’t get too close to any human, regardless of which sex I was attracted to.”
Shiloh only passively listened to father’s words, there was never any mention of waiting. No dispelling truth or asking, impatiently, for time to decide what was already known. There was nothing being said that Shiloh was ready to combat and what little was being said seemed like vague platitudes. Father needed to know, to really know and understand. There couldn’t be anymore left open for debate or doubt, or worst of all, argument. Shiloh kept right on talking once father was done.
“…a woman. I am female. I’ve known it for a long time, and I’ve read a lot about these things. I know what I’m saying, I know the implications and what it means for me. I know what it means too for what we are. I can never have corrective surgery. I know that. I can undergo hormone therapy though. I can still be female. I am female. I need you to know that and I need you to recognize that a major part of my identity is not being called Kevin anymore.”
Father wasn’t looking down at his map anymore. He wasn’t making tick marks and scrolling through his endless sheets of data. Father was, for the first time in a very long time, looking head on and not looking past Shiloh or shrugging his shoulders at what was said or moving things along so as to get their conjoined lives back on their inevitable track.
Father was looking directly at one of his children, without motive, for the first time, in a very long time. Maybe for the first time since mother died so long ago. More important, father wasn’t already motioning or talking about what had to be done or where to move to next. Father didn’t have any words, for once.
Stunning father into silence wasn’t the point though, neither was shocking him into inaction. Shiloh needed him now, more than ever before. This wasn’t about tossing out new information to an unready audience, even though that was exactly what it turned out to be. This was about establishing new boundaries in an already understood order.
When father finally found words, they were the same kind he always spoke, motivating, supportive, and ultimately telling of how he viewed their reality as a family. “Well, I guess you’ve thought about all of this long and hard. What do you want to be called? How can I help you down this new path you’ve chosen for yourself?”
That was the end of, Kiddo, the end of Kevin, the end of he, him, boy. Father never yelled or shouted or pointed out obvious concerns both financial and societal. Father simply accepted that the child he loved, the one he once viewed as son, was now daughter. He took it on like he took everything else, equal parts caution and concern.
Shiloh was already sequestered and supposedly asleep when Wendy spoke up, out there on the porch with father where Shiloh and he had just been only hours before. Shiloh stayed still and listened to them whisper.