When I was in the 8th grade, I was a smart kid but not a genius. I liked to read books, and my older brother was teaching me French and Latin. I felt a little superior to the Alice and Jerry text books we were given to learn to read. I met this “fellow” from Special Ed which then meant classes for students with high IQ’s. Richard was one of these students. I was reading Ulysses by James Joyce, and, though one year younger than myself, Richard was reading Oscar Wilde, in particular, “Lady Windermere’s Fan.” He even recited some witty passages from this play to my mother who befriended him and enjoyed his scintillating conversation.
A couple of years passed, and Richard told me he did not feel like he was a guy, that he was seeing a doctor in Younkers, New York and that he was taking hormones to increase his/her breast size. Richard renamed himself Romaine. Another six months or so passed, and he had the sex-change operation. He/She recovered from the operation. Romaine was somewhat effeminate but was more unisex, about half-and-half.
A few months passed, and he/she said he wanted his penis back. One day a policeman came to our house in College Point, spoke to my mother, telling her Romaine had killed himself by jumping off of a building. Of course, my mother was horrified. Some of Romani’s female relatives came to visit my mother to mourn. His stodgy father had long since disowned him.
I think there is a sex-change program in Lexington, Kentucky, that requires the patient candidates to live like a woman for a year before they get the operation. That is probably a better regimen.
© 13 March 2013
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