PROLOGUE
‘Just Nigel’
Nigel René Borger was born in upstate New York on the coldest day in September. His father, Harry, was not in attendance at his birth, being away for work. His mother, Betty, felt inconvenienced by the whole event. She held her only son for a total of ninety-three seconds before handing him back to the nurse. As it turned out, that was the longest Betty ever held him in his entire life.
Nigel was conceived during the prior Christmas-New Year holiday, as that was the last time his father had been home from his migratory job long enough to impregnate his mother. Three of Nigel’s five sisters were also born in September. Harry Borger was a contract worker, doing turnarounds at plants all over the country. As husbands go, he wasn’t bad. Harry never physically abused his wife and called her at least once a week. He sent a card on her birthday and their anniversary. There was also a small, steady stream of money to help care for his six children. As a parent, he was worthless. At least Harry and Betty had that much in common.
The family was poor. They were on every conceivable government program, from food stamps to rent relief. Between the government subsidies and the money that Harry sent home, they survived. Even so, each sibling had to do with hand-me-downs. That was fine for Nigel’s five older sisters but didn’t do much for his self-esteem. Still, he was very young, and he seldom came in contact with anyone other than his mother and sisters, so it didn’t matter all that much.
As the youngest child of six, all his sibling’s girls, Nigel’s life was different. He played with dolls and wore passed-down girl nighties, jeans, and blouses. But the real problem was the constant teasing from his sisters.
His oldest sister, Clara, would dress him in panties and hand-me-downs of his sisters daily. Clara seemed to dislike all boys in general, but her focus for revenge on the male sex was Nigel. Since Nigel had never watched television and had never come in contact with any male other than his father, he was unaware that any people existed other than girls. He just accepted that he was a she, and this was the natural course of things. Still, it could be worse. He wasn’t physically abused, beaten, or starved, and he had a bed to himself, albeit a trundle.
Eventually, Nigel had to start school, and then the real problems began. Without a male role model, his only working knowledge of how he was supposed to act in public was female.
Then, there was the question of what he was to wear. Betty did buy him some boy’s shirts, though grudgingly. But the rest of his body needed clothing as well, and Clara, ever frugal, had him wearing his sister’s hand-me-downs. With girl clothing and a lack of boyish traits, it wasn’t hard to predict future problems. It didn’t take long, about thirty seconds, for the other boys to realize that Nigel was odd.
His mother didn’t take him to his first day of school or on any other day. That task fell to his big sister Clara. Clara had taken over the task of raising the Borger clan from the time she was able to make baloney sandwiches. She was now twelve and an old pro at the job. Clara, of course, insisted that Nigel dress in girl hand-me-down clothes; all his sisters had to. So, except for the shirts her mother insisted that he wear, hand-me-downs are what Nigel wore. Nigel was immediately the talk of the class as he strolled in with tight Capri pants, frilly socks, and his pink tennis shoes.
Nigel cried all that first day and all that night, begging not to have to go back to school. All his mother told him was to ‘man up’ and go. The problem was that Nigel, days short of being six years old, didn’t know how to man up, having no example from which to learn. He had never seen a TV or been to a movie, there was no brother or father to display the proper role, and he had no male friends. So the next day, his sister again took him to school, dressed as a girl from the waist down.
After a while, due to his quiet, withdrawn personality and his consistent wearing of girl clothing, it was accepted that Nigel was, well, ‘just Nigel.’ Visitors would comment to the Principal, asking, ‘Who is that odd-looking child over there?’ The Principle would reply, that’s ‘just Nigel.’ Or they might comment to the teacher, ‘Isn’t that child a boy? Why is he wearing girl clothes?’ To which the teacher would reply, that’s ‘just Nigel.’ Once this happened, he found he was left mostly alone, which was all right by him. Nigel now realized he was supposed to be a boy, but ostracized by both the boys and girls, he was left unable to interact with either group. So, he was left to be what he was ‘just Nigel.’
The next thing he discovered was more positive; he liked learning. Nigel suddenly started to excel in every subject. He absorbed knowledge like a sponge. He learned to read at a phenomenal rate, reading every book he could get his hands on. Clara took Nigel twice a week to the library, mostly to parade him around in public in a dress. He would race between the shelves, seeming to pick books at random. He could barely carry home the stack. As he aged, the books became thicker. Clara would look at the titles of various subjects, such as Physics by Richard P. Feynman or Philosophy by Bertrand Russell, and shake her head. ‘Why would a kid read this crap,’ she would say to herself? Soon, he was at the top of his class, and he stayed there throughout the entirety of his public school education.
During all this time, Harry would make his annual Christmas visit. He always complained about Nigel being a sissy. Harry mentioned multiple times his concern that Nigel was wearing girl clothing, but Harry attempted no remedy. He, as did the teachers, assumed that Nigel wore these clothes because that was what he wanted. But Nigel had no real choice. Clara dominated his every action. Without his mother’s intervention, he was in no position, as a child, to oppose Clara, a teenager. But his mother had no desire to intervene, and it eventually became the way things were, and he accepted it.
It was at the very start of the fourth grade that things took another turn for the worse. Clara, now a sophomore, had finally discovered boys. She promptly decided that boys weren’t as bad as she had initially thought. She still thought them morons, but fun morons. This change of opinion was the result of her also discovering sex.
With her sudden awareness of sex came the added concern of pregnancy. So Betty decided to start her two oldest daughters on birth control. Unfortunately for Nigel, Clara felt that if she had to use birth control, then so should Nigel. Consequently, throughout Clara’s entire sophomore, junior, and half of her senior year, she shared her pills with Nigel. Clara made Margaret share half of her birth control pills as well. So, while both Clara and Margaret were taking a pill every other day, Nigel was taking one every day.
With the introduction of female hormones into his body, prior to puberty, there also came the beginning of physical changes. By the time Nigel made it to the fifth grade, he was well on his way to developing adolescent female breasts as if his life wasn’t bad enough. Clara, however, thought it was hilarious and fitted Nigel’s new breasts with an appropriately sized training bra, which he had to wear to school every day.
Any other ten-year-old boy would have, by this time, refused to do what his crazy sister was pushing at him. But Nigel was utterly dominated by Clara. He couldn’t imagine resisting her in any way. So, when she declared that if Nigel had breasts and was wearing a bra, he should also be wearing a blouse, Nigel didn’t argue. It was only logical, Clara stated, that he should wear one of his sister’s hand-me-downs instead of those terrible shirts. Clara simply told her mother that Nigel was begging to wear a blouse to school. Since not having to buy Nigel any more shirts gave Betty extra money for more important things, such as alcohol, she let her oldest daughter and her disappointment of a son have their way.
Nigel was so used to being an outcast, ignored at school and home, that this new change didn’t matter to him. As long as he could learn new things, he was happy. Learning had become his refuge from everything else in his life. His mother had also found herself a refuge; her’s, however, came from a bottle. She had been ignoring the rest of the family for quite a while now. Clara and Margaret, the two oldest, had long ago taken over the job of paying the bills, cooking, cleaning, and raising a family of girls. Bringing up Nigel as one of the girls was the path of least resistance. Clara’s logic was that it was more convenient to raise all girls than four girls and one odd boy. Somehow, they had forgotten who made Nigel odd to start with.
One thing led to another, and with Clara and Margaret in charge, he was soon wearing the occasional dress to school. The hormones had prevented his normal puberty, and he was developing a roundness that could only be called feminine. The school continued to consider Nigel to be just one of those odd pupils. Since they wished to be considered progressive and inclusive, they accepted him as ‘just Nigel.’ Talks with Nigel’s mother had served only to reinforce their belief, as Betty had no idea what Clara and Margaret were doing to her son. She assumed that this was what Nigel wanted, so she also accepted him as ‘just Nigel.’
Then, as Nigel was halfway through the sixth grade, Clara’s cheating on birth control had finally caught up with her; she became pregnant. The responsible boy eagerly agreed to marry her; her sex was wild, and he couldn’t live without her. Once engaged, she immediately dropped out of her senior year and moved in with her fiancé and his parents. With the exit of Clara from the Borger household, Margaret took over.
Margaret continued in the footsteps of Clara, treating Nigel as one of the girls, and continued Nigel on Clara’s prescription of birth control pills, now every other day, until the refills ran out. She also started taking her own birth control pills correctly, not wanting to end up in the same predicament as her older sister. At every other day, they lasted almost two more years, and at the end of which, he had a solid A Cup bust.
Nigel was now ending middle school. Next school year, he would start as a freshman in high school. Nigel had been wearing girl clothing for his entire life. At the age of fourteen, he felt more comfortable as a girl than a boy. He even preferred a dress to pants, at least during the hot summer weather. With the delayed development of his penis and advanced development of fair-sized breasts, it wasn’t hard for him to pass as a girl with anyone who didn’t know him. By this time, he had learned from his books and his observations of the other boys at school how he should be acting and dressing. But since first Clara and now Margaret refused to allow any changes, he accepted his situation. As long as he could keep learning, he just didn’t care.
***
It was at this time that Jane, his third sister, had taken over the job of raising the family. Margaret, having graduated and found a job, promptly left the house to forget her childhood. Jane was about to start her senior year at high school, and with Margaret’s exit, she had inherited the position of head of household. Jane, however, did not view Nigel as the sissy everyone else did. She knew what Clara and Margaret had done to her brother. So Jane decided to redeem her sister’s mischief and put Nigel back on the path of masculinity. Betty hadn’t taken any notice of Nigel in years and rarely came out of her room except to eat, and she only left the house to buy more alcohol. Therefore, Jane anticipated no opposition to her plan from that direction.
Jane immediately stopped Nigel from taking the remaining birth control pills, which were about to run out anyway. Then she scraped together all the money she could. With Nigel in tow, she went shopping for boy clothes. Nigel felt very anxious during the entire outing. But Jane would not be dissuaded, and Nigel left the store with two outfits of boy’s clothes, one of which he was wearing. He was uncomfortable in his new clothes, but Jane was a girl and was in charge, so he did not protest.
What happened next, however, was just short of a miracle and a major turning point in Nigel’s short life. Jane knew Nigel was a genius. His grades throughout school were nothing short of phenomenal. So Jane contacted an elite private school, Johnson-Meyers Academy, known as JMA, requesting an interview for her brother. She wrote a formal letter and sent copies of all his report cards; to her surprise, Johnson-Meyers Academy agreed. So, on a Monday, three weeks before public school was set to start, Jane and Nigel were sitting in the office of the Head Master of Johnson-Meyers Academy. Jane had done a fantastic job of making herself look at least ten years older. With her mother’s old clothes from when she was thin and attractive, heavy make-up to make it look like she was hiding wrinkles, and some extra padding in her bra, she could credibly pass as Nigel’s mother.
Nigel wore the white shirt, red and black striped tie, and the sports coat Jane had purchased. She remembered reading that successful people wore this type of tie, and Jane wanted Nigel to dress to impress. He looked very handsome, Jane thought. She also had him wear a tight elastic undershirt to compress his A-cup breasts, a lasting gift from Clara.
They left very early that morning, Nigel carrying a paper bag with his second set of male clothing and his only possession, a paperback dictionary. They had to take several buses to get to the area of the school, walking the last mile.
“Don’t volunteer any information about your personal life unless you want to end up in the same situation you were at home,” Jane told Nigel. “As far as anyone is concerned, I am mother, I’m your mother, Betty Borger, do you understand,” She said rather than asking Nigel, “and if everything goes well, you will be staying here,” she said, ending the conversation.
Nigel wasn’t sure what was going on, but Jane was older and female, so she was naturally in charge. He didn’t question anything, for he was excited, knowing that Jane was trying to get him into a better school. His love of learning dominated his thoughts at every moment, and he didn’t argue, not that he would ever argue with an older female.
They arrived at seven in the morning and had been sitting for over an hour. Jane was beginning to think the Head Master decided to snub her, which made her mad as hell. Jane was everything that Clara and Margaret weren’t, a smart, strong-willed, and capable woman. She wasn’t about to let some over-educated bullies give her the cold shoulder. Jane was about to give someone a piece of her mind when they called her and Nigel back. Taking Nigel by the arm, they entered the room and sat on one side of a long table. Two men and one woman sat across from them, shuffling papers so they seemed important. The man in the middle was Head Master Farrell Griffin, to his right was Dean Jacob Osteban of the Science Department, and to his left was a woman, Dean Delores Marcels of the Literature and Language Department.
“Mrs. Borger,” the Head Master began, “I understand you wish us to admit your son on a full scholarship. We have reviewed Nigel’s transcripts and agree that his academic achievement is remarkable. But a full scholarship is something special, and I’m not sure that is going to be possible.”
“You see,” interjected Dean Marcels, “our scholarships have all been assigned for the year.”
“Quite so,” continued the Head Master, “perhaps next year, if his grades continue to excel.”
“Excuse me,” Jane interrupted, “just talk with Nigel, test him. I know I am not at your level of education, but I can tell genius when I see it.”
“I think that would be reasonable,” interjected Dean Osteban, “I, for one, would not want to miss an opportunity for the Academy. I have my entire morning free and can supervise the testing.”
“Very well,” said the Head Master, pushing back from the table, “test him.”
With that, the interview was over, and Jane was taken to a special waiting area by Dean Marcels. Nigel was led in the other direction by Dean Osteban to a quiet room and told to sit. The Dean left, returning quickly with a stack of booklets, laying the first one in front of Nigel with a pencil.
“You have two hours to complete this test. If you have any questions, put your pencil down and raise your hand; please begin.”
In thirty-two minutes, Nigel pushed the test back to the Dean, who looked up from his reading.
“Do you have a question?” He asked.
“I’m finished,” Nigel said.
Dean Osteban seemed confused, looked at his watch, and noted the time, pushing another test in front of Nigel.
“You have two hours to complete this test; please begin,” he said from rote, then started grading the first exam.
In less than thirty minutes, Nigel pushed the second test back to the Dean. He looked up from staring at Nigel’s first test. He took the second test and slid a third to Nigel without giving any instructions, and then started scoring the second test. This pattern continued for a total of twenty-one tests. It was now late afternoon, and Nigel had been testing, almost nonstop, for more than eight hours. Dean Osteban had missed three of his scheduled classes, but he didn’t realize it. He had to leave once to get more tests and relieve his bladder. He refused to talk to any of the faculty that tried to stop him. The Dean asked Mrs. Matthews, the secretary, to have food sent to the testing room and went back inside. At a little after five o’clock, the Head Master, wondering what was taking so long, came into the room. Dean Osteban, having just finished grading the last test, pushed over a paper for him to read.
“Two mistakes out of twenty-one hundred questions?” He asked, looking at the Dean as if in shock.
Dean Osteban just nodded, his face set with an expression of amazement.
“Yes, and one of those was technically correct depending on interpretation,” Dean Osteban stated.
“Okay, let’s talk to his mother,” said the Head Master, smiling widely.
Rene C. Delacroix - Author 