A Successful Prank

Chapter 6: revelation

There was quite a bit more chat and then silence for a while: Natalie sipping her tea and nibbling delicately at a biscuit; Luke trying not to stare. Eventually, Natalie turned to Luke and spoke. "Luke, I'm beginning to feel that the situation has gotten a little out of control. Um . . . now what I am about to tell you, could possibly upset you, even annoy you. I hope you won't feel insulted or hurt, I wouldn't like that."

The young man looked decidedly puzzled.

"Well, it's this (big breath). Luke, this sweet lady sitting next to you is actually a bit of a prankster. She decided to teach a group of women over in Fawley a lesson in life. Me, I also enjoy a good prank, so I have been willingly aiding and abetting her in this project."

Natalie was looking straight into Luke's eyes, her face and her voice took on a note of concern. "You see, Luke, what you are looking at, is phoney. I'm not really a girl. I'm a boy made up to look like a girl."

"Impossible."

"I'm sorry, Luke. I had to tell you. I didn't want to deceive you. I'm sorry."

Luke stood up in a rush, almost knocking his chair backwards. They thought he was going to walk out, but instead, he started walking around in circles. "This prank, is it a joke on me, is that it?" he asked in a tight voice.

"No, Luke, no," Natalie's voice was sounding distressed.

Joyce started to speak. She explained to him the aim and purpose of the prank. Luke watched her intently. When she finished, he walked over to Natalie and offered her his hand. She rose and stood there with Luke holding her hand in the air. "So what you are telling me," he said, addressing Joyce, "is that this beautiful and delightful creature, who has absolutely knocked my socks off, is actually Nathan, your son?"

"I am afraid so, Luke. But I didn't mean for this to happen, to embarrass you or put you in an awkward position. It's not Natalie's fault, it's all mine. I'm sorry."

There was one of those pregnant pauses, then. "Perhaps, Luke," Natalie murmured softly, "you would prefer to just leave and forget about us."

Luke was still holding her hand. He turned to look at her, shaking his head in a wondering manner, "I still can't believe this, I can't . . . but leave, now that is a joke. Natalie, you and I have got a pageant to win next week, because, young lady, I'm taking you to that pageant and you are going to win it, and I'm going to be proud as punch."

"You don't mind, it's okay," there was hope/relief in her voice.

Luke was looking at her, still shaking his head in disbelief, "You know, I'm a straight guy, so I guess I'm disappointed, in fact, very disappointed (shrug) that you're, well . . . a fella too, I'm still struggling to believe that . . . lord, how could you be so . . . Natalie, Natalie, I tell you most sincerely, I wouldn't have missed the experience of seeing you and getting to know you, a bit at least, for the world."

As Joyce walked past her son's bedroom door later that night she heard him crying softly into his pillow. She sighed, "Oh, Joyce, Joyce, what have you done."