Reflection

"Oh come on...prettier," she blushed as she said it, "But I should look like you. That's the idea."

"The idea?" I asked.

"You really have no idea who I am," the girl said, smiling more broadly. It wasn't a question, but she sounded a little mystified.

"I'm really sorry...I don't..." I said.

"I will give you a hint...boss" as she said the last word, she raised her eyebrows significantly. Boss? I didn't have any employees. The only time I'd ever been in "management" was when I worked at a department store during the summer in college. But I'd only had two subordinates, a doofus high school football player and...

"Kara?" I asked, my mouth dropping open. The girl's eyes brightened.

"Oh my god you remember!" she said, and she wrapped her arms around me again, bouncing excitedly in her seat. Kara had been hired halfway through my sophomore summer to stock shelves. She was a rising high school junior. She was a scrawny wisp of a thing who'd been unable to lift most boxes. More than that, she was also painfully shy and awkward. She never spoke other than to mumble and would never initiate a conversation. More than once I'd had to fish her out of a bathroom or broom closet, drying her tears and getting her to work. It had been a difficult summer for her. For a lot of reasons. Now she was completely different, it seemed. It wasn't just the way she looked (I remembered her with light red hair, knobby knees, crooked teeth), but her whole attitude seemed different. I shook my head in disbelief. I hadn't thought of her in a long time and I'd never pictured her like this. I was always afraid that something terrible had happened to her.

"I can't believe it's you...you're so...different"

She nodded, "Thank god right? Can you imagine if you had to stay the person you were in high school forever? I got out of this town for a while. I grew up. Mentally more than physically...but physically too," she said, sort of sweeping her hand down over her body.

"What are the odds that you'd look so much like..." I began, not certain how to finish what I was saying. I felt crazy.

"Like you?" she asked and then she laughed. I felt my cheeks grow red. I was being vain. She was too pretty and too bright, she didn't look that much like me. "I bet the odds are better than you think!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, knitting my brow. She slapped my arm again.

"Joanie, you can't really think this happened by accident! I was trying to look like you. This," she said, pointing to her face and then her body, "Was planned out. I am so excited that I saw you and I that I did it! I mean if you think I look like you... I must've really done it," she said. Now I was more confused than ever. But I didn't have time to work through it in my mind.

"1818 Ludlow," the cabbie said, pulling to a stop. I looked out the window and saw a three-story apartment building to my left.

"Oh come on up Joanie!" Kara said, "We have so much to talk about." I didn't speak. But I had so many questions. I felt dazed, ready to follow directions. I followed her out of the car.

* * * * *

Five minutes later we were sitting in her apartment kitchen, and I was sipping a cup of coffee while she brewed herself one as well. Her apartment was nicer than mine. Larger, with better furniture, despite the fact that it looked like she lived alone. But I didn't have time to feel jealous (much). Now that I was out of the cab and under the bright, incandescent kitchen lights, the situation seemed even stranger. She had tried to make herself look like me...we'd known each other for a couple of months six years earlier. It was...strange. Even creepy. Now I wondered what I was doing here, trying to think of a way out. But I was still curious, I guess. The fact that it was so strange made it more intriguing.

Kara got her drink and sat down across from me at her table. She smiled at me and took a sip. But I think she sensed my unease and after a moment, I saw her eyebrows furrow. She reached across the table, innocently I was sure, to touch my hand. But I was tense, I flinched.

"Oh my god, I am freaking you out, right?" she said, calmly withdrawing her hand.

"No...No!" I said, automatically. She shook her head.

"You don't need to lie. I swear that I am not like...stalking you or anything. I am not following you. I didn't like...plan to jump into that cab with you. It was a total coincidence," She said. It should've been fishy that she denied the feelings I had but hadn't expressed so fiercely. But I remembered how surprised she'd been when she'd gotten into the cab and she was so earnest now. I don't know...I believed her.

"I know," I said, though I really didn't know anything. It just felt like the right thing to say.

"I honestly didn't ever expect to see you again. I never expected to come back to this town. I got transferred at work," she said earnestly, "But I am glad to see you." She settled down more comfortably in her chair and I sipped my coffee again.

"It's good to see you too, Kara," I said, looking at her again, my eyes running over features so similar to mine. I saw Kara blush and look away.

"Is it? I recognize that this," she pointed to her face again, "might be unsettling for you," I shrugged my shoulders. As the discomfort began to subside, the curiosity remained. It was good to know...or at least to believe that she wasn't some sort of homicidal maniac who wanted to wear my skin. But if that wasn't the reason...

"Why...if you don't mind me asking? I mean...you realize it is...a little weird and you say you weren't doing it to like...for my sake. So why?" Kara was nodding her head as I asked the question. As I finished speaking, she smiled broadly.

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, spreading her arms as though all the cards were on the table. I gaped at her.

"Honestly," I said, "No. I can't imagine why you'd do anything to look more like me. Especially considering I was only your boss for part of a summer"

"Joan, do you remember what that summer was like? Do you remember how terrible it was, for me?" she asked. As she spoke, her energy dropped and her eyes slowly cast down. She sounded softer now. I felt a flash of recognition. Suddenly, this alien woman who'd burst into my cab became familiar. She sounded like the Kara I'd known all those years ago. For the first time, I really saw Kara when I looked at the person across the table.

"Yes," I said somberly. I was now about to think back to that different Kara, slinking through the hallways in the department store, avoiding eye contact with everyone. I remembered how terrified she was, any time a customer spoke to her. I remember her stone-faced father picking her up after every shift, never looking at her or speaking to her, a rage seemingly just below his surface.

"I mean I had never been popular. From the time I started school, I was an outcast. I can count the friends I had in those years...on one finger. And then that year, the spring before I went to work for you, I decided that pretending I was something I wasn't couldn't be worth it. I mean what had it gotten me right? And I stopped living as the person my parents told me I was, and I started being myself, being Kara," Kara swallowed deeply as she spoke, her eyes looking slightly glassy.

"And it was somehow so much worse," She gasped a little when she said it, "When I told my parents that I was a woman...they hated me for it. My classmates had a whole new way of tormenting me. Even at work...all the other summer help went to my school. They knew what I used to be. They knew I was trans. They called me my old name. They called me other names. It was horrible."

"I remember," I said. And I could. I could never believe how much abuse the other students could heap on this scared, struggling girl. I didn't think that young people said things like that anymore. I'd been so shocked. And I was flooded again, with the old compassion I'd always felt for Kara. And the admiration too. She'd been so unbelievably brave. I felt the distance of years slipping away between us now. I knew who she was, even if I didn't know why she looked like me.

"But there was one thing that wasn't horrible," she said, looking up with slightly reddened eyes. She smiled wanly at me, "You, Joanie." I shook my head. If anything, my confusion grew deeper.

"I didn't do anything," I said, honestly, "I mean if I saw that asshole Chad hassling you, I'd tell him to get back to work...but that was my job."

"Well you chased all of them off. I mean, you let me have my space," Kara explained, "But it was so much more than that. You were the first person I ever met who heard that my name was Kara and just...called me that. You even got my name tag to have my name. Hell, you didn't flinch when I put 'female' on my application even though my learner's permit said something different."

"I wasn't doing anything though," I said, feeling embarrassed. I didn't want to be canonized in this girl's mind for basic decency, "I was just doing what everyone should've been doing anyway. It was easy for me. You were the one who carried all the weight."

"But that's what I mean!" Kara said, excitedly, "You didn't see yourself as doing anything. You weren't taking pity on me. You weren't condescending or trying to pose like you were open-minded or something. You were just decent. You just saw me as another woman. And a woman who needed...support and you gave it. Simple as that," she explained.

"I think that just reflects how awful those other people were," I said, thinking about the high school students, and some of the other managers, at the department store, "It still means I don't understand what this," I said, pointing to her body, "is about." Left unstated was my true question: what could she possibly see in me that I definitely didn't see in myself.

"Okay, think about it this way," Kara said, "You knew from the time you were a little girl that someday you were going to grow into a woman. Everyone had always told you that. You'd had time to figure out what it meant to be a woman. You made mistakes and you learned from them. You took characteristics that you thought were important for a woman from other women, say your mother or your grandmother or...I don't know, Oprah or something," she laughed when she said that but didn't loosen her intensity. In fact, she seemed almost excited to be telling me and she leaned in towards me at the table. I felt no need to recoil now. Recounting old times had allowed me to feel closer, more comfortable with Kara in a way that was hard to explain. What's more, I was hanging on her every word.

"The point is that you gained your knowledge and you took on your traits a little bit at a time until, eventually, you weren't a little girl anymore. You were a woman. I," she said, pointing to her chest, "Didn't have that experience. Everyone told me from the time that I knew I was a little girl that I was a little boy who was going to grow into a man. And it just...it made me so confused because I knew it wasn't true. But I tried, because I wanted to do what I was supposed to do. So I learned what men did and I made mistakes and didn't learn from them. And I looked to men but I couldn't understand the way they thought so I couldn't model myself after them," there was pain in Kara's voice as she said these last words. But she didn't speak as though she wished she'd learned better what it was to be a man, it sounded like she was regretting wasted years.

"And when I was 15 years old, I decided that I was done trying to learn to be something I wasn't. I actually remember when it happened. My mom had bought an outfit for our dog for Halloween. A costume with triangular ears and a fake, upturned tail to make the dog look like a cat. And the whole family laughed about how silly the dog looked and talked about how to try to make him purr. And I realized that I was the family dog too. They kept cramming these ears down on me and telling me to purr, but it didn't make sense. And I decided that I would be the woman I knew I would be.

"But I was going to be a woman in three years. I went from being a miserable, confused boy to a certain, but still confused girl instantly and had no time to figure it out. I didn't have time to make mistakes and learn from them. And I didn't have any women in my life to look up to. My mother...well I wouldn't have wanted to be like her even if she had reacted better to the fact that I am Kara," Kara looked off slightly into the distance as she said the last words, the regret obvious. But she had a full head of steam, and didn't pause long. I sat, rapt, listening to her spill out her heart to me.

"And then I went to work because my dad wouldn't pay an allowance to 'Kara' because he didn't have a daughter by that name. And I met you," Kara said, turning to look at me suddenly, her eyes crystalline with tears, "And you were young and a little in over your head at the job. But you were also pretty and sweet and kind. You were patient with me where no one else would be. You were intuitive about what I needed. You didn't pity me, but you tried to understand where I was coming from. You let me know when you understood and when you didn't. You were fair with your subordinates (even when you chewed them out for being mean to me) but also firm with the other members of management. Like...you didn't lord your little bit of power over us and you didn't grovel in front of the bosses. You were tough and soft at the same time."

"For me it was just..." Kara said, looking up at the ceiling like she was trying to grasp a more enormous idea than she could speak, "I knew the kind of woman that I wanted to be. I understood, really, for the first time what I was. What it meant to be a woman. And I knew it because, in a very short time, you'd showed it to me.

"And I am not trying to say that I followed you around and learned all your mannerisms or tried to parrot your thoughts. That really would be creepy. And I didn't know you that well," she laughed again, disarmingly, "I just...I thought, 'here is a person I admire. Wouldn't it be nice...be right if I was the kind of woman that other women admire?' and so anytime I took an action as a woman, I thought about that. Not necessarily 'what would Joan do?' Though lots of times I figured that was a similar question. But really, what would action would make me feel the most like a woman that other women would want to be. And once I started doing that...I quickly discovered who I really was.

"I don't know. I felt like I was no longer thinking about that kind of stuff. I was just doing it. I was just being the woman I wanted to be. You know? Like I'd gotten rid of all the hang ups and confusion that my parents had given me...well not all of them, but enough of them. I felt like when I made a decision, I was taking what I was supposed to be inside, and really using it. And then I came into some money (my grandma never followed through on my mother's threat to write me out of the will. I think they just figured she'd live longer), and I suddenly had the ability to make my outside look the way it was supposed to. Like the woman I was.

"And while I was getting these done," she pointed to her breasts, "I talked to the surgeon about making my face the way I wanted it. And he basically said that to know if he could help me, he had to know what I wanted to look like. I'd never thought I'd have the money to really do it right, so I'd avoided thinking about it. Like I'd just depress myself. But then I had this option, and the idea hit me all at once. I just remember smiling. Because I knew. I said, 'I needed to look like Joan.' I mean I always thought you were so pretty and I felt like we actually had similar coloring. When I showed the doctor your picture (you need to fix the privacy settings on your Facebook, by the way, you have everything public like you're an old person or something) he even said we had similar bone structure. It was perfect. Like I said, I never expected to see you again. But I thought...you know...I could show my gratitude to you...you'd help me form the person I was inside so I'd form my outside in your honor."

And with that, Kara's cheeks got extremely red. I think she realized that she had been talking nonstop for nearly ten minutes, growing faster and more excited with each word. Now she had clearly said something she'd imagined saying to me before in her mind and it looked like she suddenly realized how it sounded. She wondered if I would think she was crazy. I could see that reticence in her eyes. I needed to speak.

"I don't understand," I said. I saw Kara's face fall. I realized how that sounded. I lifted my hands in protest, "No, no, no!" I said briskly, "I mean it isn't like...I don't understand what you're saying. I really do. I mean...what you said was so beautiful and sweet. It really was. I mean I don't know if I've ever heard of anything like it, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's bad. It actually, sort of makes sense. Like if you had told me that story about someone else...I just would have thought it was touching...I just don't understand how you can be talking about me," I explained, struggling to put it into words. Kara tilted her head to the side.

"But I mean, I told you about it. About all the thing you..."

"No, I mean...I heard you. And...it's like I said before. I didn't really do anything but be minimally decent to you. And I mean whatever little things I did right back then...they just had to absolutely pale in comparison to...everything else." I ran my hands through my hair, feeling discomfort. I didn't like talking about these things. But I had a sneaking suspicion that this girl was living her life based on a lie. I couldn't let her do that. She had to understand that I wasn't what she obviously thought I was. I certainly wasn't someone's role model.

"Everything else?" she asked, now tilting her head to other side and staring at me closely. I sighed deeply. She'd been honest with me. I guess I owed her as much.

"Like all the things wrong with me!" I said sharply, surprised by the emotion I felt when I said it, "I mean, you say you tried to be the kind of person that I am. But you're prettier than I am. You're more successful than I am," I said, waving my hand around her beautiful apartment, "You are so much more together than I am. I mean, if you modelled yourself on me... you'd be going nowhere. You'd be a fuck up just like..."

"Oh my god, Joanie, tell me what is wrong," she said urgently. Now she reached for my hand grasping it quickly and leaning in. She asked as though I'd told her that I was sick or dying or something.

"What do you mean? I am just saying..."

"You're saying that something is terribly wrong with your life!" Kara shot back quickly.

"No, I am not complaining or something," I said, lifting my free hand and holding it up as though to ward off her concern, "There isn't anything wrong. I mean, I am just not who you think I am..."

"No," she said, silencing me. She was staring at me intently, "I might not have known you too well Joan, but I know that you didn't talk like this back then. I thought it was modesty at first. But you've been subtly putting yourself down ever since we ran into one another. What happened?" Kara's question slammed into my chest so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of me.

"Nothing," I croaked, but already my mind was running over it. I thought back to the events earlier in the night. Erik and the girl. The resignation I'd felt. Seeing myself, or at least my past self, through Kara's eyes I suddenly realized how alien my behavior seemed now. Who was that person who'd just...put up with that?

"It's okay," Kara said, looking at me intently, "tell me." I looked into her sparkling green eyes and saw the compassion there. I sighed deeply. What did I have to lose?