Elena pushed back the curtain and stepped into the changing room. She had to duck under the low rod and try not to make eye contact with the clerks, who were loitering conspicuously nearby. None of them were comfortable in this dress shop, least of all Elena. She would have gone to her usual place, but there wasn’t enough time left for the walk into the more friendly neighborhood. They wouldn’t have made it back in time for the gala.
“I thought you said this place was nice,” said the strange girl, Kate, who Elena had promised to help. They’d never met before, but here she was, intimately close in this tiny dressing room while Elena helped her fit into a dress.
“This store is my mother’s usual shop. They’re being quite accommodating, under the circumstances.” Kate was a few years younger than her, maybe nineteen, and a good bit shorter. She’d been fiddling with her waistband ties when Elena had stepped in to help, “No, you haven’t tied the inner band to the skirt. This dress uses the old fashioned loops, see?” She turned Kate’s waist to get at the knots. “You’ve got them all twisted up.”
“Under the circumstances, all twisted up, you’re funny. I’d really be fine wearing a suit if this is gonna be such a problem for people.”
Despite her protests, Kate looked herself over in the mirror while Elena finished with the ties. Elena couldn’t help looking too. This dress fit her well, she had the hips to shape it in the just right way that Elena still couldn’t. Her face was soft and naturally round. Kate was a lot of the things Elena wished she was, but couldn’t be.
So, no, letting her wear a suit wasn’t an option. That would send exactly the wrong message, undermine everything that Elena had been working on. As it was, the only reason anyone accepted her at all was a carefully managed appearance and the backing of her parents. Dragging a stranger, an Anasyl girl with a thick accent, to this kind of event was only acceptable because her grandfather was the one hosting it. So she had to make Kate look the part, and that meant playing to her stupid curvy figure. A gown would do that; a suit, or her travel-dirtied plainclothes, wouldn’t.
“The circumstances are that we came here on no notice and asked for a very nice dress, which we are going to wear to a notable social event without even giving the clerks time to properly tailor it. To some people, the exact kind who attend this type of party, that might even reflect badly on the shop. Not to mention that you came in wearing men’s pants and muddy boots. The fact that they aren’t charging us for rug cleaning is a testament solely to my mother’s long patronage here.” She made sure to say the last few words a bit louder, it couldn’t hurt to remind the clerks. Then, she leaned down and dropped her voice, saying, “Those are the circumstances, not… what you’re referring to. What we are.”
“Transsexuals, you mean? Our shared transsexual circumstances,” said Kate, in a nasal imitation of Elena’s voice. “Am I good to go now?” Which meant Elena had to do a final once over, where she found several more ties undone and bands untucked which all needed correcting, before she let Kate out in a burst of fabric. The clerks had been inching closer to them from behind the curtain and now quickly found some other task to occupy themselves with. Kate snorted and waved her hands at them mysteriously. “Run away, little chickies,” she warbled, getting closer to a clerk.
Elena got them out of the shop as quick as she could. Kate now looked almost presentable, as if she knew that she was about to attend a party, instead of cross-dressed mud wrestling. On the street, there was the barest breeze, bringing the ocean’s stagnant salty smell to co-mingle with the sleepy oil reek that the city always seemed to gain under the summer sun. At least the midday heat had broken, and soon everything would cool down. Evening was setting in.
Judging by the shadows, they were out of time.
She led Kate out onto the cacophonous main road, where they joined the slow line of people and carts moving east. Most of them were day workers, heading to the bridge and the rest of Ramirough. Elena recognized a few faces, people who scurried under her mother or aunts. Everyone was talking over each other, and a few enterprising groups farther ahead were singing.
“I look good enough for the big guy? Mister Magic himself?” asked Kate, almost shouting over the sound.
“You look nice enough to not raise an inappropriate number of eyebrows. As for Mr. Yusteur, we’ll see. He did reject my application too, remember.”