Read Online Thirteen, Fourteen... Little Boy Unseen by Willow Rose - Free Book Online

bike parked outside.
    “You’ve got to be kidding me?” I said.
    I opened the door and walked into the darkness, only lit by the many screens. Loads of teenagers skipping school were staring at them, playing games where they were holding big guns.
    “What the…?” I spotted Sune by one of the computers, and next to him sat Jeppe by another computer screen wearing a headset. They were grinning and poking each other, eating chips, and drinking sodas.
    “What’s going on here?” I asked, and pulled Sune’s headset off.
    “Oh, hi, Rebekka. What are you doing here?” Sune said.
    “I have a job for you. Are you not picking up your phone anymore?”
    Sune grabbed his phone from the table. “Sorry. I didn’t hear it,” he said.
    “I’m sorry, Rebekka,” Jeppe said. “I thought I’d take him out and have a little fun. He seemed so bored at the house.”
    I forced a smile. “Well, Sune can’t play anymore.”
     

19
    E XACTLY WHEN their parents consulted the doctor for help, the man couldn’t remember, but he remembered going to the clinic numerous times during his childhood. He remembered driving for a long time, then sitting in a strange office furnished with a couch, Oriental rugs, and lots of plants that reminded him more of a living room than a doctor’s office. He also remembered the pictures and sculptures of erect phalluses and vaginas. But, most of all, he remembered how his sister hated the doctor. How she loathed coming to his office. How she would scream and yell every time they told her that’s where they were going.
    Their parents, on the other hand, adored the doctor. The man remembered how his mother listened attentively to everything the doctor said, and how his words soon became law in their home.
    As just a young boy, the man hadn’t always understand what the doctor had talked about when they visited his office, but he did remember one thing the doctor always told them. He believed that gender identity developed primarily as a result of social learning from early childhood, and that it could be changed with the appropriate behavioral interventions.
    “What’s behavioral interventions?” the boy asked his mother one day, shortly after their first visit to the doctor’s office, when they were alone in the kitchen.
    “Don’t you worry about that,” his mother answered, and kissed his forehead. “But I can tell it’s what’s gonna help your sister. I tell you, this doctor is going to change everything for us. Your sister is in the best possible hands. Things are finally looking bright for us.”
    The boy would soon enough learn exactly what behavioral intervention was. The doctor worked with a therapist, who had hair as white as snow and eyes so blue they looked purple. The therapist came to the house one day and watched the twins as they played in the yard. He observed them for hours, while their mother looked with anxious eyes from behind the window in the kitchen. Then, he grumbled and wrote on his notepad.
    The next time the therapist arrived, he spoke for a long time with their parents before he came into the yard and called the twins to approach him.
    “Let’s play a new game, shall we? I have one for you. I would like for you, Alexandra, to lie down on the grass now on all fours, then I would like for your brother to get behind your sister’s butt with your crotch against your sister’s buttocks. I want you both to do thrusting movements. Now, try that.”
    Thinking it was just a game, they obeyed the therapist, while he watched them and made notes in his black book.
    “Now, I want you, Alexandra…”
    “I’m Alex,” his sister replied defiantly.
    “No. You’re Alexandra. That is your real name. Now, I want you to lie down on your back with your legs spread, with your brother on top, and again do the thrusting movements. Now, go.”
    The exercises went on and on, once a week for years, and the therapist became a regular part of the twin’s lives, not one they