The Marrying of ZIM

9. Answered prayers.

I looked over at Kwashie with a shocked expression. I mean, it was one thing to assume but confirmation was a whole other ball game. Instead of pouring the whiskey into his glass, he placed two ice cubes into his mouth and turned the bottle of whiskey to his head. I didn't want to stop him, if he needed liquid courage to fully confess everything then so be it.

"I'm a girl," he said again but it was more for himself than for me.

"You're a girl?" I asked.

"Yes," I guess I should stop saying he and him now.

"Why is your voice so deep?" I asked.

"I took testosterone shots for my first year." She explained.

"But you still have your breasts?" I asked and she nodded her head.

"And vagina?" I asked.

"Yes." She said.

"So why didn't your parents go the full journey?" I asked.

"It was all my father's idea. Said he wanted a boy child anyways." She shrugged her shoulders.

"My mother tried to convince him to just adopt a teenager but he said that they wouldn't understand and they would rebel and that me being his only child would never rebel." She took another drink of Whiskey from the bottle.

"So he persuaded my mom into making me as physically and mentally masculine as possible, they didn't agree on the sex change because they said that God would not approve of such things but my birth paper was changed and I'm a registered male." She sighed.

"My father also said that since I wanted to dress masculine and behave like a dyke then the transition should be easy for me but it wasn't." She lifted her finger to wipe a tear that had fallen from her eye.

I took the extra blanket that I had walked with and moved closer to sit next to Kwashie. I wrapped the blanket around both of us and she leaned onto my shoulder.

"When I first saw you, I thought you were extremely beautiful. I thought that maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all but I made up my face because you seemed shallow and spoilt. I didn't need that, I grew up poor and I actually migrated here three years ago. I didn't grow around my mother and father but they would keep tabs on me. I was with my grandmother and even though she was a traditionalist, she never had a problem with how I dressed and the sports I played." She said.

"I'm sorry to hear about all of this, it seemed to have put you through so much stress." I said running my hand up and down her arm.

"It must've been stressful for you, I believe." She said. "Having to learn two new languages and be uncomfortable in your own body because of the clothes you were forced to wear." She patted my knee.

"Yeah, it was rough." I chuckled.

"So I'm assuming you're stud for stud?" I asked her.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked me.

"You're like a stud because you dress masculine and I'm basically a stud too.." I tried to explain.

"I don't think it matters but I guess I am. Why does this side of the world put labels on already labelled things? Back in Africa a lesbian is a lesbian, we just blend in more with the men because we look so rugged." She said and I let out a loud and hearty laugh.

"It doesn't matter to me but I just had to ask. So have you had any previous girlfriends before? Were they masculine or feminine." I asked.

"I've had maybe five girlfriends, three feminine and two masculine. The masculine ones were very feminine on the inside. I like females like that, the ones who don't forget that they're actually still a female under the clothes." She said. Jackpot.