The Complete Zagzagel Diaries by Bryl R. Tyne Read Free Book Online Page A

hearty shake and then proceeded to fold it into quarters before dropping it back to the broken asphalt.
    “Now, I’m ready for you,” she said and, with her palm upward, beckoned me to take a seat. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
    “Thank you, Charley. You sure you aren’t hungry?” I asked, still standing.
    One brow askew, she glared. “You already asked me that once.”
    Yes. Yes, I had. “But you never answered one way or the—”
    “For Heaven’s sake, Zaggy. When is this old fool not hungry?”
    Another thing about Charley I’d forever cherished, she didn’t have a problem calling a spade a shovel when it fit. As always, she had a point. For me to show up at anyone’s doorstep empty-handed in the first place was inconsiderate. “I’ll be back in a minute. Okay, chief?”
    “Yeah. Yeah….” She waved me away as if I was a fly at her picnic.
    Charley forever denied she needed help. Estranged from her only family, she claimed to enjoy her solitude. Claimed being the operative word. You see, twenty some odd years earlier, like a caterpillar to a butterfly, her transformation happened whether or not Charley felt ready.
    Glorious Spring, with its early blossoms and budding trees, bound forth that year. During the time of celebration and rebirth, Charley’s condition advanced. Her word for her secret, never mine. In her mind, a part of her died that year. Wasn’t anything wrong with her, as far as I could tell. She simply found facing life too difficult, considering her circumstances—considering Charley was born as Charles.
    Hell bent on remaining in society’s comfort zone, Charles had pursued life as many of his male counterparts had, despite his differences. He even met a nice girl, married her. Together, they had a daughter. Life was good to Charles until he could no longer hide behind the wall of lies he’d constructed to protect his secret…to protect himself. The truth hit him smack in the face, once his only child left home. For months, he’d enter his wife’s bed—force himself to perform, most times, to the point of exhaustion. He tried too hard to prove he was something he was not. Though his wife was a brilliant but unassuming human, she did question his sudden, increased sexual interest.
    When he could no longer stand to lie to himself or to others, he confessed his secret over breakfast one day. “There’s something wrong with me, Irene,” he said.
    She had looked at Charles quizzically when he added, “I think I’m a woman.”
    That was some revelation, especially for a married man in his fifties, who, up until then, had barricaded his secrets so deeply in his closeted mind, he wasn’t certain he remembered where he’d left half of them. Surprisingly to Charles, Irene said nothing, not at first.
    After washing the breakfast dishes, she joined Charles on the back patio with a cup of warm cocoa. “You’re ready to admit it, then?” she’d asked, patting his back softly. “I’ve known for a while, dear.”
    The shock of Irene’s statement sent Charles’s mind reeling. Where he had been certain he’d meet the biggest opposition in his life, he’d been embraced with love and understanding instead.
    Charley cried that day, but I think some of her stability escaped on her tears. Over the weeks, talking to herself grew into an everyday event, and one-by-one, she distanced herself from her friends, coworkers, until finally, Charley quit work altogether.
    Months passed and she’d yet to come out to Monica, her daughter. Charley, full of uncertainty, wearing her confessions on the sleeve of her dress, met Monica over lunch one day. Sadly, Monica did not welcome the news nor was she understanding in the least. Without finishing the meal, for Monica had stormed away before Charley could stop her, Charley stood from the table, paid the tab at the register, and walked away.
    Charley didn’t just walk away from the restaurant that day; she abandoned the life she knew. She put up a