"My dear, Sandi," Mary scolded, "you'll have to do better than that." She proceeded, over the next several days, to instruct me in the finerpoints of coordinating outfit, hair and makeup, and the all-important artof accessorizing. At first I was doing all of it because Mary seemed toenjoy it. Well, as things often do, one thing led to another. The fashionshows became a daily affair that always concluded by Mary asking me to"leave that outfit on for a little while, it suits you." Thinking that itwas more trouble to change, I left the women's clothes on more often thannot.You can probably guess where this is going. By the end of the second weekthat Mary was back, Sandi was Sandi more or less full time. "Sandi, youknow, you can't just keep wearing the same thing day after day; you needsome variety," Mary teased me one day. It was clear to her andincreasingly clear to me that I was going to need some more casualclothes to wear around the house. That led to my first solo foray to thelocal. She climbed out of the water and brushed as much water from her skin as she could then lay down on the rock next to her clothes. I figured she must have wanted to air dry a bit before getting dressed. She was a sight to see there, lying on the rock in the sun.My leg started to throb and I knew I need to take care of it in some way. I didn't want to scare the woman or to let her know that I'd been watching her. I started to call out softly, as if I were yelling from further away. I saw her scramble up to a sitting position, looking around to determine the direction from which I was calling. At the same time, she started grabbing for her clothes and put them on as fast as she could. I increased the volume of my calls, letting her know that I was getting closer. Finally, I hit full volume and stumbled forward through the trees.She caught sight of me and looked like a deer in the headlights. I could see her internal struggle, wondering if she could trust me, but also yearning for some.
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