Up for Grabs: Exploring the Worlds of Gender

Excerpt:
"We have found a transplant match for you."

Katrina's hand shook as she stared at the letter. "A match? They found me a match?" Her voice wavered. "I can't believe it. Finally, they found one." She smiled and shuffled through the papers in the envelope. Finding no picture of her match, she sighed and reread the letter.

Thinking she should tell her mother, she slipped into the few pieces of male clothing she still owned—brown trousers and a tailored shirt. She sighed as she looked into the mirror at the stranger looking back at her. She choked back tears as she scrubbed the last residue of make up from her chocolate brown face.

"Time to go, Lance," she said to her male reflection.

A couple hours later, she descended the stairs from the bus onto the streets in front of the wall, which split New Republic from Right Republic. She stared at the huge brick wall and remembered learning as a young boy about the history of the United States split into the two republics by civil war.

"See class," the teacher had said, pointing to the New Republic section of the map. "The Conservatives wanted to save us from them."

"Who's them, sir?" Lance had asked, flailing his arms as he spoke.

"Don't gesture like that. That's queer. You'll turn into one of them."

Katrina smiled at the wall decorated with rainbows, smiley faces, and other symbols of happiness as she thought about that incident, which had been her first insight into the fact that she was one of "them." As a teenage boy, she had snuck into the New Republic and met women like her. As soon as she was of age, she moved despite her mother's wishes.

"Don't you dare move over there. You'll become like them. A freak," her mother had shrieked, pacing the living room floor.

"But, mama. I don't belong here."

"Lance, you don't know what they will do to a handsome, young boy like you." She glanced to her son with tears streaming down her face and sat on the couch next to him. "I've tried to do right by you." She slapped his legs. "Don't cross your legs like a girl. Jesus, Act like a man. What is your problem?" She sobbed into her apron. "I've tried so hard."

Interrupting Katrina's memory of the last time she saw her mother, a Right Republic officer yelled from the passageway to the other side, "Hey, Are you sight seeing? Or what?" She stared at the entryway as her insides fluttered. She jumped when the bus pulled away from the drop off point with a loud hiss. She closed her eyes and returned to the memory.

"I want a female body, mama. I always have." Katrina hated the fact that her voice had a begging quality to it as she explained herself to her mother. "I've never been comfortable as a male."

"I should've locked you away when I first caught you wearing my dresses." She shook her head. "I can't believe it. I'd hoped you'd change your ways. This is nonsense, Lance. Nonsense."

"It's Katrina, mama."

"I'll never call you that. I only have one daughter." She stood and paced the living room. "I guess, now, I only have one son, too."

"Mama, please." Katrina stood and walked toward her mother.

"Freak," her mother shrieked.

Katrina ran away. Sobbing, she glanced over her shoulder, anticipating a police car to follow her. At the brick wall, she wiped her tears away on her sleeve before she searched for the opening where she'd snuck through before. She pressed against the cool wall. She bit her lip harder and harder as she touched the secure bricks. She swallowed the panic threatening to close her throat. She glanced around expecting to see prison bars surrounding her. She felt trapped. Hoping she was wrong about the spot, she stepped back and studied it for signs of repair.

"Young man?" An officer patrolling the wall shone a flashlight in her face. "Looking for something?"

Katrina jumped at the man's voice. She thought her mother had let her get away, but she had called the police after all. Her body shook as she struggled to think of a response. She stuttered an incoherent response as she turned toward the officer.

"Wanting to go somewhere?" The guard stood with his fingers looped through his belt of his brown uniform pants required of all Right Republic males. His smile told Katrina he knew.

She didn't respond and forced herself to appear natural.

The guard stepped closer to her until he breathed in her face. "Young man?" He stared into her eyes and waited for a response. When Katrina felt his hard cock press against her stomach, she nodded and noticed that his smile changed to a sneer. "Maybe we can help each other." He gazed down her body clad in the tight brown pants and long sleeved shirt, her government-issued male costume. "Understand?"