In One Person

please don’t be crude,” Grandpa Harry said. “Muriel is my daughter, after all.”
    “Muriel is a bossy bitch, Harry. It might have made her
nicer
if she’d ever gotten to know me,” Miss Frost said. “There’s no pussy-whipping
me
, William,” she said, looking at how I was managing to get myself dressed—badly.
    “No, there isn’t, Al—I daresay!” Grandpa Harry exclaimed. “There’s no pussy-whippin’ you!”
    “Your grandpa is a good guy, William,” Miss Frost told me. “He
built
this room for me. When I first moved back to town, my mother thought I was still a man. I needed a place to change before I went to work as a woman—and before I went home every night, to my mother, as a man. You might say it’s a blessing—at least it’s easier for me—that my poor mom doesn’t appear to notice what gender I am, or should be, anymore.”
    “I wish you had let me finish this place properly, Al,” Grandpa Harry was saying. “Jeez—there should have been a wall around that toilet, anyway!” he observed.
    “It’s too small a room to have more walls,” Miss Frost said. This time, when she stood at the toilet and flipped up the wooden seat, Miss Frost didn’t turn her back on me, or on Grandpa Harry. Her penis was not even a little hard, but she had a pretty big one—like the rest of her, except for her breasts.
    “Come on, Al—you’re a decent fella. I’ve always stood up for you,” Grandpa Harry said. “But this isn’t right—you and Bill, I mean.”
    “She was
protecting
me!” I blurted out. “We never had sex. No penetration,” I added.
    “Jeez, Bill—I don’t want to hear about you
doin
’ it!” Grandpa Harry cried; he cupped his hands over his ears.
    “But we
didn’t
do it!” I told him.
    “That night when Richard first brought you here, William—when you got your library card, and Richard offered me those roles in the Ibsen plays—do you remember?” Miss Frost asked me.
    “Yes, of course I
remember
!” I whispered.
    “Richard thought he was offering the part of Nora, and the part of Hedda, to a woman. It was when he took you home, and he must have talked to your mom—who talked to Muriel, I’m sure—well, that was when they all told him about me. But Richard still wanted to cast me! Those Winthrop women had to accept me, at least
onstage
—as they’ve had to accept you, Harry, when you were just
acting
. Isn’t that the way it happened?” she asked my grandfather.
    “Ah, well—
onstage
is one thing, isn’t it, Al?” Grandpa Harry asked Miss Frost.
    “You’re pussy-whipped, too, Harry,” Miss Frost told him. “Aren’t you sick of it?”
    “Come on, Bill,” my grandfather said to me. “We should be goin’.”
    “I always respected you, Harry,” Miss Frost told him.
    “I always respected
you
, Al!” my grandfather declared.
    “I know you did—that’s why the craven fuckers sent you,” Miss Frost said to him. “Come here, William,” she suddenly commanded me. I went to her, and she pulled my head to her bare breasts and held me there; I knew she could feel me shaking. “If you want to cry, do it in your room—but don’t let them hear you,” she told me. “If you want to cry, close your door and pull your pillow over your head. Cry with your good friend Elaine, if you want to, William—just don’t cry in front of
them
. Promise me!”
    “I promise you!” I told her.
    “So long, Harry—I
did
protect him, you know,” Miss Frost said.
    “I believe you did, Big Al. I’ve always protected
you
, you know!” Grandpa Harry exclaimed.
    “I know you have, Harry,” she told him. “It might not be possible for you to protect me
now
. Don’t kill yourself trying,” she added.
    “I’ll do the best I can, Al.”
    “I know you will, Harry. Good-bye, William—or, ‘till we meet again,’ as they say,” Miss Frost said.
    I was shaking more, but I didn’t cry; Grandpa Harry took my hand, and we went up those dark basement stairs together.
    “I’m guessin’ that must have been some book Miss Frost gave you, Bill—on that subject we were discussin’,” Grandpa Harry said, as we walked along River Street in the direction of Bancroft Hall.
    “Yes, it is an awfully good novel,” I told him.
    “I’m thinkin’ I might like to read it myself—if Al will let me,” Grandpa Harry said.
    “I promised to lend it to a friend,” I told him. “Then
I
could give it to you.”
    “I’m thinkin’ I better get it from Miss