Divine Intervention - 3. Mark and Children

Summer 2019

Mark pulled out of the parking lot from the Farmer’s Market where they had just met Thomas and he held it together until he got to the stoplight at Margaret Lane and Churton Street. The tears were running down his face as he sat through a green light. He had his right turn signal on but he didn’t take advantage of the light. Finally, the person behind him became impatient and was blowing the horn.

“The old bitch. She can fucking wait.” Mark steered the Ford 150 Dual Cab around the corner almost hitting a woman pedestrian. The woman told him to be careful and he put down the window and apologized. As soon as the window was back up, he called her an old bitch.

“Daddy, what’s a bitch?”

Robert had an amused look on his face. Robert knew the term and if he said those words he would have been sent to his bedroom. Army sat in his seat and was chanting, “old bitch, old bitch, old fucking bitch.”

“Enough, in the back seat. Army and Robert please no talking until we get home.” Army looked at his dad in the rearview mirror and said, ‘My name is Belinda. Remember? You promised to call me Belinda.”

Mark sighed. How had he made that promise? His mother would say it was a bargain with the devil. His father would say to beat the devil out of the child. Actually, his father said that to him last Sunday.

It had started like most Sundays. He didn’t want to get up and stayed in bed tossing and turning. He pretended that one of the pillows was Linda and he squeezed her and said loving words to her. Finally, he opened his eyes and had to deal with the fact that he was a single father with two children. He used to say two boys but lately had been saying two children. He avoided the conversations when he had to talk about the sex of his children. Sex or gender? He had learned the difference in a college health class that he was required to take. At this point, his children were different genders but both the same sex.

He looked up and saw Army standing at the bedroom door. His pajamas bottoms were wet. He had wet himself again. At five years old he was too old to be doing this. When he talked with the pediatrician about the problem, the doctor told him to not make a big deal of it. “Don’t get upset. Don’t make more of it than what it is. Just ask him if he needs help cleaning up. If he says yes, then do it and talk about how good it feels when he is clean. If he says no, then ask him to clean himself and then acknowledge afterwards that he looks nice.” That made sense to Mark.

“Do you want to shower with me this morning?”

Army’s eyes lit up and he said yes. He was excited. Robert came walking down the hallway and asked if he could get in the shower also.

“Great, let’s make it a boy’s locker room kind of morning.”

Army’s eyes glazed over and said he would take a shower in his bathroom. He turned and started walking down the hall way.

‘Damn, I screwed up again,’ thought Mark. Linda would know just what to do. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room.

They were running late so Mark put some bread in the toaster and then poured cereal and milk into three bowls. Afterwards they finished dressing and got into the pick-up truck to go to church. They walked in during the opening hymn and saw his mother turn as she was looking for them. Army ran up the aisle and jumped onto the pew to give his granny a hug. He knew the words to the hymn and started singing with a clear, clarion voice. He knew that he had a beautiful voice and believed in the ‘Sing out Louse’ mantra. Mark and Robert slid in as his father looked at him and then at his watch. His father was the most punctual person in the world. Mark was not born with that internal clock. Mark mumbled through the rest of the hymn.

After the service his mother told Mark that they would be at his house in thirty minutes with lunch. Berta used to host Mark and his children for lunch but after Robert broke one of her Royal Doulton figurines, she decided she would cook at home and transport the food. Lord knows, Mark’s house was bare bones. Linda had decorated it very nicely but piece by piece, Mark had removed things and put them away. It now looked like bachelor’s quarters. It was clean because Berta sent her maid over once a week. Bonnie Rae reported to Berta about the food choices in the refrigerator, Mark’s sticky bed sheets, and the urine soaked pajamas and sheets. Army’s mattress had a plastic cover. Bonnie-Rae didn’t miss anything important and duly told Berta that week about little girl’s underwear in Army’s dresser drawer. Berta knew that it was time to face Mark about his parenting skills if he didn’t even know the difference between boy’s and girl’s underwear. For God’s sake, all little boys wore white BVDs. If she had to, she would go to the local Target store and buy the boys some clothes. She knew it was hard working full time and raising two rambunctious boys. She remembered that it was easier to raise Mark than his sister, Faith, and she had always heard that it was easier to raise boys than girls.

Mark buckled Robert and Army into the back seat of his truck and pulled onto Rt. 70 to head home. His parents still went to the country church where they had been married thirty-five years before. Berta convinced Mark that the boys needed to go to church and that was a fundamental responsibility of a parent. It was easier going to church than arguing with his mother. His father had told him about not arguing with a spouse just before Mark got married. It was sage advice. Of course, he didn’t get much practice before Linda was gone.

Big Mark, Berta, Faith and her husband Ben and their three kids arrived at Mark’s house.

“Hey kids, I need help in the kitchen. Your cousins will be here in less than five minutes.”

Robert and Army came running from their bedrooms just as the front door opened.

“Anybody home?” It was the typical greeting that his father used every time he came to visit?

Big Mark looked up and saw Army running through the living room in a dress. He had on make up and had a French barrette in his hair.

“What the hell is going on in here? Boy, why do you have on a dress?”

Mark was standing in the opening between the kitchen and dining room with a stack of paper plates in his hands. Belinda ran up to him and threw her arms around his thigh.

By that time, all of his family was standing in the living room. Robert was standing on one side of Mark, and Belinda was on the other. Everyone was staring at the three of them.

“I will explain. Now, Belinda why don’t you go put on some boy clothes?”

“But daddy, I am playing hostess and I need to dress up.”

“Army, look at me.” Belinda slowly raised her head and Mark saw tears running from her eyes.

“Robert, help your granny set the table while Belinda and I go have a talk.”

Mark hoisted Belinda in his arms and walked through his congregated family on their way to the bedroom. Mark closed the door after they entered the room.

Belinda was still crying. Mark held her.

“Okay, Belinda where did you get the makeup?”

Belinda looked at the floor and then the answer hit Mark like a ton of bricks. He had packed up all of Linda’s things and put them in a closet.

“Did you get it out of the closet?”

Belinda nodded her head.

“I suppose that is where you got that hair thing also.”

Again, Belinda nodded.

“Now, here is the difficult part of the conversation. When I bought you that dress what was our agreement?”

Belinda’s lower lip was trembling as she looked at her daddy. “I would wear it only when we were home alone and you said I could put it on.”

“Did you forget about our agreement?”

Belinda looked at Mark and knew there was no good answer so she decided to be absolutely honest.

“I feel pretty in my dress and I wanted to show it to granny.”

“You look beautiful in your dress but I would have preferred that you followed the agreement we had. I would like for you to wash off your make-up, put on your Army clothes, and come with me while we have lunch. Will you do that for daddy?”

“I will do it because I love you daddy. I am sorry that I hurt you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t like being Army. I am Belinda.”

At that point, Belinda threw herself in her daddy’s arms and started crying again.

Mark sat on the bed with his heart breaking. He realized that he was crying also.

“I think we both need to wash our faces. Come on, let’s do it together.” They walked into the bathroom and Mark saw Linda’s make-up on the counter top. He choked up and could barely breathe. He grabbed two wash clothes and handed one to Belinda. They set about their tasks and cleaned their faces. Belinda went back to the bedroom and when she looked like Army, Mark opened the door, grabbed his son’s hand and walked down the hallway. Faith and her brood had left. His parents sat in the living room.

“Robert, have you eaten?”

“No daddy, I was waiting for you and Army.”

Mark started walking through the living room holding Army’s hand when his father exploded.

“Enough of this horse shit. What is going on?”

“We are getting ready to eat lunch, dad. Have you and mother eaten yet?”

“Boy, you know what I am talking about. Why are you letting your son put on a dress? That is faggot stuff and I will not have it. It makes me want to puke. It also makes me want to punch you in the face for raising my grandchildren like that.”

Mark stopped walking and turned to his father.

“Dad and Mom, my children and I are going to have lunch. Would you like to join us? This is a no violence household and you have to promise that you won’t hit me and anyone else. Also, no more abusive language around my children.”

His father looked like someone had slapped him in the face. “What the hell is a no violence household? Is that some kinda faggot talk? I think you need to beat the devil out of your child. Your child is possessed by the devil.”

Mark’s mouth fell open and he then told his parents to leave. His voice was calm though his gut was in an uproar. He told his mother he would clean the containers and return them to her but it was important for them to leave immediately. Mark’s mother grabbed her pocket book, turned to her husband and told him to get up from the Lazy Boy so they could leave.

After the front door slammed, Mark’s shoulder’s slumped. He knew he had won the battle but the war was much bigger and he didn’t know how he would win that.

Robert asked his father if he was okay. “Yep, Skippy, I am fine. Let’s set the table and eat off of your mother’s dishes. Put those paper plates away.” On occasion he would use nicknames for his children and he needed that familiarity today.

They didn’t talk much while they ate Berta’s wonderful food. She had brought her famous 9-layer cake for dessert because she knew that Mark’s loved it. They each had a slice and Mark said they would save the rest for later. After they cleaned up, Mark told them he needed to run an errand. The boys were strapped in and the F-150 pulled out of the driveway. Mark headed to the Lowe’s in Durham. Normally, he would have driven over to the Home Depot in town but he didn’t want anyone knowing what he was buying. Instead of having the locks to the house re-keyed, he bought new lock sets for the front door, kitchen door and the side door to the garage. If he knew his mother, and he did, tomorrow she would be in the house going through everything in case Bonnie Rae had missed something. They returned home and Mark quietly went about his work while his children played a video game. They didn’t need to know what he was doing. After he finished, they went into the yard and climbed into the hammock. It was one of Mark’s favorite things to do – falling asleep in the hammock with a child on his side. He loved waking up and seeing his children still sleeping. It filled him with such pride.

They ate a BLT sandwich for supper. All three had mayonnaise running down their chins. They were all giggling while they crammed potato chips their mouths. The orange juice carton was practically empty when they finished. Mark and Robert then had a burping contest to see who could make the loudest eruption. Army was the judge. Mark thought it had been the perfect meal. The day had ended well.

The next morning, Mark dropped the boys off early at a summer day camp. He had to pay an extra fee for the early drop off but it was worth it. He arrived at the construction office before his dad. Workers came dragging in looking like they had a good liquor filled weekend. He assigned their work for the day and the office was empty when his father came in.

Big Mark said nothing. He grunted whenever Mark said something to him.

Mark decided to ignore the boorish behavior and went to his office. He called Army’s pediatrician. He needed help because they were at a different developmental stage and he didn’t know what to do. Army’s doctor made a call to the child psychology program at the university hospital and got an appointment for that week. An appointment for Mark not Army. Mark was told that Army would need to come later but first they wanted to talk to Mark and Army’s mother. Army could barely squeak out that she wasn’t available and that he would be coming by himself. Mark walked into his dad’s office and told him that he a medical appointment for Thursday morning. His dad asked him the purpose of the appointment and Mark told him it was to meet with child psychology at the university. His father nodded and didn’t say another word.

Big Mark’s behavior didn’t change though he pitched a fit when Berta told him that she couldn’t get into Mark’s house to retrieve her Tupperware. Her key no longer worked. Mark didn’t address the key issue but told his father he would drop the Tupperware off at their house that afternoon. On Wednesday afternoon, Big Mark asked Mark what time he would be coming to work on Thursday. Mark said he didn’t know what time the appointment would finish. Big Mark nodded and asked him if he wanted to take the entire day for the appointment. Mark smiled and thought his dad was coming around and everything would be okay. “Just tell your mother so she gets the payroll right. You are being paid for a four day week since you are taking a day off. I assume this appointment has to do with your sissy son.”

Mark cussed a blue streak when he left the construction office that afternoon. His father had never done anything so callous before. ‘Win the battle and lose the war’. That was all that Mark could think of when he stopped to pick up his kids. They lived a comfortable life but Mark knew that was the first major volley and there were more to follow. He had worked hard to be both father and mother to his children, to provide them a comfortable upbringing and to make sure they knew their family. He had not done it alone. His parents had been very generous when Mark needed time off but he worked long work weeks so he figured it averaged out over time. He and Linda had bought an historic home in town and Mark had spent countless hours restoring it. It was the envy of many of the neighbors. In Mark’s mind he could hear a great sucking sound and thought it was his life going down the drain.

On Thursday morning, Mark took his children to the day camp and headed down Rt. 86 to Chapel Hill. He knew where the hospital was located and eventually found the parking garage and then walked over to the medical campus. After asking directions, he found the child psychology department. He looked around and saw some seriously disturbed kids. He was thankful that his children did not have serious mental illnesses. Only, his one child couldn’t decide whether he was a boy or a girl. Mark paused as he had that thought. It seemed the Army had it figured out. The rest of the world was playing catch-up.

Initially, his appointment with the young psychologist had him feeling uneasy. He couldn’t tell if Dr. Robinson was a man or a woman. Dr. Robinson was new on faculty and Mark hadn’t looked up their credentials. Mark explained what was happening and received lots of affirmation about the path he was taking.

“But, we are at a new phase, or point, or step or whatever you call it. Army, now wants to be called Belinda and wants to dress like a girl. More than that, Belinda says she is a girl and not a boy.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I just want my child to be happy. Our pediatrician has been wonderful but I think Army is not going through a phase as Belinda but is Belinda. I am in over my head.” At that point, Mark started crying. Dr. Robinson handed Mark a box of tissues.

“I guess you spend a lot of money on tissues.”

Dr. Robinson just smiled.

Dr. Robinson asked more questions. Mostly they were about Mark and Robert and how they were reacting and handling the situation. Mark then talked through the Sunday explosion, as he now thought of it.

“I need to ask. Where is Belinda’s mother? Does she know and what does she think?”

Mark teared up again.

“I have a hard time talking about this.”

Silence ensued.

“Army’s mother died shortly after child birth. They saved Army but not Linda.” Mark sat looking at the floor. He heaved a deep breath. “Robert vaguely remembers his mother but of course Army has no memory.”

Mark spent the next few minutes talking about her qualities and that he would ask himself how Linda would handle things. He was trying to make sure he was raising his kids the way his wife would want.

“She was a surgeon. Brilliant woman who was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer when she was pregnant with Army. She was determined that she was going to have the baby. She wanted a little girl but was just as thrilled when she found out it was going to be a boy. It was an incredibly wonderful, incredibly horrible week. I brought a child home from the hospital and buried my wife. She never left the hospital after the birth. It was if she willed herself to stay alive until Army was born.”

Dr. Robinson asked if Mark had been to a therapist afterwards. He told her he didn’t have time with a new born and a two year old. “If it had not been for my mother and sister, I don’t know what I would have done. Work helped me focus on something else every day. It was hard but it was good. Everything was going well until Army told me that he was a girl. Linda wanted a girl. I guess we got one but I don’t know how to do this.”

“You are extremely generous and kind, Mark. You have been through something that most people would not have survived without lots of therapy. Most fathers don’t know how to make sense of gender dysphoria especially if it is a boy saying that he is a girl. And at such a young age. What that tells me is that you have an incredibly open and healthy relationship with your children. Belinda could not have told you that if she was fearful. You are to be commended. Now let’s talk next steps.”

When Mark returned to work on Friday his father did not ask about the appointment. Big Mark said he needed to take the day off to go fishing and would see his son on Monday.