Jai

 

The early hours of the morning were a magic time, he felt, when most people exist in another realm, sleeping and oblivious. The world was an empty place while the sleepers slept, there was somehow more for him, unlimited access to the energy fields of the earth. In his teenage years these extra hours had really helped him get ahead in his studies but now those early hours were spare, dangerous even. He could channel those energies wherever he wanted.

 

Jai had become highly skilled at creeping around the house. He could get up and make the most of this precious time without disturbing anyone, except his mother who was also a short sleeper and aware of some of his habits but nevertheless she chose to ignore them. 

 

The curtains were open just enough to let in the breaking light from outside. He watched Mani as he stealthily put on a pair of jeans, gently pulling them up his legs and fastening the button. She was absent, fast asleep on her back, she looked so happy in her unconscious state, snoring lightly with her eyes relaxed beneath her eyelids. It wasn’t necessary to remove his pyjama top since it was simply an old blue t-shirt with the word, Chillin, printed across the front. 

 

Down the stairs he crept, pausing to push his feet into a pair of trainers and then out of the front door, closing it in the silent manner which he had perfected.

 

The road on which they lived was quiet, semi-exclusive, a wealth of new money, inhabited by professionals who went to bed early and had no time to notice their neighbours. Except for poor old Joy, her bungalow was the only property which hadn’t been bulldozed and replaced with a boxy five bedroom house. She had Ash saplings growing out of cracks on her driveway and the shrubs growing along the front of her house spilled out over the pavement. It didn’t matter though, she rarely left her bedroom and inhabited a tiny, shrunken world.

 

The air outside was fresh but thick and soft with the unique golden brown light of the approaching sunrise. It was dead quiet except for the birds and the occasional whirr of a car on the main road some distance away. He felt himself morphing into a different character as he took a few steps down the drive. Slowly opening the door of his car, he sat in the driver's seat and slid the brown envelope out from underneath, carefully removing the wig and stuffing it into his jean pocket. Strands of nylon peeped out like tentacles, tickling his belly, he pulled his pyjama top down to cover them. Instead of shutting the door he let it close gently until there was just a tiny gap. 

 

As he walked away from the vehicle and began his journey along the pavement, the cells in his body tingled with a charge of electricity, he began to feel ever so slightly aroused.  

 

The walking was just an excuse, an activity to normalise the more clandestine activities, indeed an alibi to cover the real driving force behind his twilight outings. He rushed his steps, power walking until he was out of breath. As he turned back into the road on which he lived he slowed down and became hyper aware of his surroundings. People’s curtains and blinds were still shut, they shut out the world and escaped into their pretty caves. 

 

The hodgepodge form of Joy’s overgrown front garden appeared as the dark entrance to a tunnel, inviting him in. He took a deep breath, ducked his head and began to walk down the slope of her driveway, avoiding the uneven paving slabs and the saplings. When he reached the caravan he paused and glanced up to what he could see of the road. There was nobody about, no dog walkers, burglars or generic busy bodies. He could just about see a bit of his own house opposite, silent and uneventful. He imagined Yasmin fast asleep and Sara perhaps lying awake thinking about how she would show off her new lip balm to Megan at school. 

 

The caravan was stale, like an old postcard it held memories of happy days, old times when everyone was polite and colours were brighter, the sun didn’t burn and strangers made friends on holiday. It was white on the top half although covered now with a layer of green algae a smattering of black grime; halfway down there was a metal strip and below it the surface was a horrible brown shade which hid the dirt well. He smiled and carefully turned down the metal handle of the caravan door, entering another world he felt safe and completely protected. This was the mother ship and it could take him into orbit. 

 

Inside it was pretty clean and all shades of beige, the cupboard doors looked almost new and the seating, in a floral brown and orange print, folded out and doubled up as bedding. The short, flecked curtains were always shut although the windows were small anyway, except for the large window at the front which was fully obscured by the branches of a huge dusty Elaeagnus shrub. At first Jai just sat down and rubbed his hands together, he absorbed the safety, the soft stillness, it was like a womb and he soaked it up as if it were a sort of medicine. This deep state of relaxation was a precursor to arousal, he felt the unblocking of his body, a warming up, a tingling sensation in his muscles.

 

He threw off his pyjama top and let it drop onto the upholstered seat, then he opened up the overhead cupboards and began rummaging through his collection of clothes. They were never stored neatly, always thrown in, a frenzied action, guilt, confusion running through his fingers as he tidied up at the end of a ‘session’. 

 

The source of the clothing was disparate, some was taken from Mani’s wardrobe, items she’d never worn and forgotten about or had grown too fat for. Some garments were stolen from a washing line, years ago before he was married, some were taken from a bag he’d found in an open nurse’s locker in one of his previous jobs at a hospital. There was one bra, a bright pink one which Jai had stolen from a medical training mannequin when he was a medical student, it was a 40DD. 

 

The clothing smelled, it had never been washed since there was no real option to wash it. It had that old appley smell of second hand textiles but he adored every single garment; the colours and textures, the way they skimmed his body, the unfulfilled potential, they were the textiles of his dreams.

 

Despite the unclean odour, there was something about the underwear garments in particular which had a cleansing effect on him. He put on a black bra and rubbed his fingers along the lace trim, it was as if he were lathering himself up with soap as he felt all the psychological dross which had built up over the previous days falling away like dirt. 

 

Then he removed his jeans and boxer shorts. The collection of knickers he had accumulated was small and rather grim, granny pants were his only option since his favourite purple briefs were fraying at the leg openings and he didn’t want to lose them altogether, they were like an old friend. The granny pants felt loose around the top of his thighs, the fabric had bobbled and so it felt sort of grainy against his skin but it didn’t matter. It was difficult to find trousers that fitted properly so he had a small collection of different skirts from various decades in different lengths and colours. Jai had varicose veins so he wasn’t comfortable with showing his legs which otherwise were smooth and shapely.

 

Feeling a little conservative as it was a Wednesday, he opted for a long flowing black one which would cling to his legs as he walked and would hang nicely over the long black boots he was planning to wear. There was a narrow mirror on the wall between the cupboards where he could get a good view of himself and the early morning light flooded through the sky window. Although it was difficult to move around inside the caravan, there wasn’t much space for getting changed. 

 

At times Jai could find himself getting hot and impatient and had to sit down with his palms resting upon his knees, drop his head and take some deep breaths. This is not my choice, he said to himself, I have to do it in order to survive, to remain grounded and therefore sane and quite undangerous.

 

After changing fully into his outfit, he put on the new wig and applied a small amount of make-up. He had learned over time that some make-up is hard to remove, especially around the eyes. The bin inside the caravan overflowed with used cotton wall balls, blackened by mascara. There had been a few attempts at applying false eyelashes but it was time consuming and he had to be in the right frame of mind. He had been lucky in the fact that he often found make-up lying around in all sorts of places and since it was small, it was very easy to pocket discreetly.

 

Unfortunately Jai had a few pock marks on the skin of his cheeks, the result of acne in his teenage years. He had learned that covering it with make-up was a balancing act, too much and it looked considerably worse than none at all. It was a difficult balance to achieve in the low light of the caravan with closed curtains. Time was running out. 

 

This ritual consisted of two essential parts; there was the getting dressed up part, and then there was going out for a short walk, both were equally important, equally satisfying. The best bit was the thin layer in between, the few seconds where he checked his reflection in the mirror. He saw somebody else entirely as he checked that everything was in place before stepping out into the world as a woman. Cheryl was right, A change would do you good.

 

He grabbed his beautiful handbag from its hiding place. It was an expensive thing, beige ostrich leather with rose gold hardware, purchased brand new from an airport on his way back from a urology conference in Hungary. This was where he’d learned about the future of male sterilisation, how the vas deferens could be plugged with a spermicidal gel. And he’d bought a handbag for Mani. 

 

It was a grand gesture which she would have adored but he’d been worried about what his mother would say and then as the weeks went by, he’d been unable to part with it. Slinging it over his shoulder, the look was complete, now he was in the character of Julia, his alter ego, Julia Leopard.

 

Julia worked the night shift as a hotel receptionist. She was a single mother with a son who was now grown up, she’d had him young, out of wedlock, times had been tough but Julia was also tough and was now free to express herself. There were many admirers in her circle but she wasn’t interested in dating, she was only prepared to invest energy in her own needs and looking glamorous. 

 

The walk came quite naturally to him, in fact it was what he referred to as his natural walk. Gone was the awkward gait of the conservative Jai. He used the balls of his feet to incorporate a little bounce which slowed his pace so that each step was drawn and controlled. He held his head high, much higher than he ever could when he was himself and he never looked at anybody or indeed anything, he simply gazed into the space bubble a couple of feet in front of his face. Inside this space was an image of himself, an imagined reflection of the self that he loved. It was akin to gliding and the ritual was a form of self-love, he needed it in order to retain his sanity.

 

It was a short to medium length walk, it would be too risky to venture any farther; out of Joy’s driveway and several meters down the street there was a wide alleyway leading to a much busier road where cars would pass him. He imagined the drivers observing him and this feeling gave him a sort of super power. It enabled the gliding to turn into flying and suddenly he was up in the clouds where the air is thin and the view all encompassing. He could see everything with absolute clarity.

 

The flight lasted about fourteen minutes and by the end of it, Jai was luminescent with pride in his sense of other self, the freedom of embracing his secret identity and sharing it covertly with the world. As the minutes passed, the danger increased of drawing too much attention to himself. He darted back to the safety of the caravan and grabbed a packet of wipes. The make-up came off easily, streaks of black and shimmering pink coloured the wipe, he dropped it in the bin on top of all the others then removed his wig, his head was sweaty underneath and he used another wipe to dab it.

 

So quickly he became Jai again, a stressed Jai, rushing to get back into his pyjama top and jeans, hopping about to get his leg in and his feet into the trainers. He glanced in the mirror, his face was so different now, so older and suddenly burdened with responsibility. The soft light had dispersed and the harsh light of the working day shone down on him. 

 

He was sure to step upon his favourite manhole on the pavement near to his house and said a little prayer inside his head, ‘Julia Leopard lives inside, she will not be locked away, she will not be brought, she’ll live and thrive and we will never be caught.’ As he approached his house he broke into a little jog, said ‘good morning’ to the neighbour a few doors down, everything was now quite normal and mundane. 

 

Some of the curtains were drawn open now, the family were awake. He remembered to shut the car door as he passed by, he did this by jabbing his hip into it and it closed with a muted thud. As he stepped inside, the first thing he saw was little Yasmin kneeling on the stairs, partway up, dressed in her pyjamas with her back turned to him and her head buried tightly in the palms of her hands.

 

‘What are you doing there, Yasmin, are you saying your prayers?’

 

She spoke without looking up, ‘No dad, I’m looking at the stars inside my head.’

 

‘Oh, are they bright, like the ones in the sky?’

 

‘Yes but they’re red and green..but some are white and they twinkle.’ She looked up now, blinking her tired eyes. ‘Like you dad, you sometimes look all twinkly after your morning walk. Actually you do today dad, your eyes are so twinkly.’