Bed springs squeaked as from atop one of the two dressers the alarm clock began making a soft chirping noise. Knowing Charlotte was getting up to shut it off, Martin lay for a moment longer, listening to Charlotte moving about, then leaving, presumably to get Taylor up for church. Rolling over, he sat up, scratched himself a moment before pushing himself up off the bed. Yawning, stretching, he shuffled around the bed and toward the bathroom attached to their bedroom. Clicking on the light, he squinted, grimaced, yawned some more, plodded across the room, reached into the shower and began to run the water.
Still not fully awake, he shucked off his boxers and tossed them into the hamper. Turning to check the shower water, he stopped when he caught from the corner of his eye his reflection. Blinking, thinking he had been mistaken, Martin almost ignored it, but at the last second peered into the mirror. His reflection peering back at him, it took him a moment to fully wake up enough to see what had caught his eye was his hair.
Normally short, dark brown, Martin couldn't wrap his mind around how his hair was now down to a little ways past his shoulders and was blond with a tinge of red. Reaching up to touch it, finding it soft and full, he gave it a short tug and scowled. Confused, sure his hair was dark brown and short, he thought about it a moment before reaching for the scissors kept in the cup next to the sink. Working at shortening the hair, he then took from one of the drawers on the sink an electric clipper, which he engaged and began to trim at the areas he couldn't get at with the scissors. When he finished, Martin peered into the mirror a moment longer, taking in his now short hair, happy that he didn't look like some hippy, but displeased by the colouring of his hair. Figuring it couldn't be helped, "Unless I want to dye it, which I won't," he dropped the scissors and clippers on the counter next to the sink and went to check how hot the water was.
Down the hall, Dion, who had recently been woken up by his mom, sat on the edge of her bed. Staring at the dress his mom had laid out from, the tights that his mind insisted were kind of cute, and the slip he was to wear under it, Dion found himself frustrated that he would have to wear a pretty dress to church again, even if, as a girl, he didn't really like wearing such things, but would do so for his mom. Standing, grumbling, he grabbed the garments, a fresh pair of undies from his dresser and headed for the bathroom.
Twenty some minutes later, dressed, Dion sat on his bed and once more stared at his room. Thinking about the lost Amulet of Zulo, he was tempted to consider it gone for good, and that, maybe, that was a good thing. Yet, a small part of him wasn't ready to give up on the hope that he might find it and somehow not only get Holly back, but also his chance of being a boy again. Sighing, thinking being a girl wasn't as bad as he wanted to believe, he quickly banished such a notion and gritting his teeth, he whispered, "No. I will be Dion again, whoever he was. I was not meant to be Denise Taylor. I will not be her," and standing, he strode purposefully across his room, gave once last thought to the necklace and where it might have gone before heading down to breakfast, sure his mom would insist on doing his hair and that he wear earrings.
After he'd finished his shower, Martin used a towel to dry off, tossed it in the hamper and headed back into the bedroom. Heading for his dresser, he opened the top drawer and took out a clean pair of boxers. About to pull them on, he stopped when he saw the amulet. Thinking the image on it was horrible, despising the word printed on, certain it was a made up word, he was tempted to chuck it in the wastepaper basket next to Charlotte's dresser.
Instead, he turned away and headed for the closet, where he fetched a button down shirt and a pair of slacks. Running a hand through his hair, missing that it had lengthened whilst he was in the shower, Martin grabbed a pair of socks and his nicer shoes, dressed for church and decided, at the last moment, that he'd first ask Charlotte, and maybe Taylor, about the necklace before tossing it. Grabbing it by the chain, it swinging carelessly back and forth, but not touching any part of his exposed skin, he headed downstairs.
In the kitchen he could smell the wonderful aroma of fresh coffee and cooking bacon. Breathing in the scents, he dropped the amulet on the counter, collected a mug and poured himself a cup. As he did this, Charlotte leaned over from the stove, kissed him and whispered, "Morning, Holly."
Startled by this, Martin immediately forgot about the necklace and peered at his wife. Taking a sip of the hot coffee, he swallowed and furrowed his brow. After a couple seconds he asked, "What?"
"What what?" Charlotte responded as she poked at the eggs scrambling, then checked on the boiling water for Taylor's oatmeal.
Another sip and Martin said, "Holly," and when his wife looked at him, a curious look on her face, he explained, "You called me Holly. You said, morning Holly."
The peculiar look never leaving her face, Charlotte eventually shook her head and said, "No, I said, morning, honey. I'm sure of it," before smiling and giving him a playful poke with the handle end of the spatula and telling him, "One of us is still asleep. Go drink your coffee. Breakfast will be ready in a bit," before turning back to the stove.
Martin, after he'd taken another sip, was tempted to argue. But, figuring he must have misheard, headed instead for the table. As he sat down and reached for the Sunday paper, Taylor wandered in. As the young girl headed for the cupboard to get a glass for juice, Martin again had one of those weird thoughts as considered the outfit she had on to be pretty and found himself wanting to be wearing the same thing. Shaking open the paper, he thought to himself, "Devil thoughts," as he began to read.
Dion, as he headed for the cupboard, had the weirdest sensation slip over him as it felt like not only was his father staring weirdly at the dress he had on, but also that he wasn't his father, but his sister, Holly. Shaking his head, he mentally told himself, "That's not right," before thinking, "It's the Amulet of Zulo. It's..." and losing the last bit of his thought, he stared in shock and wonder at the counter.
Not sure how it had gotten where it was, he glanced at her mom from the corner of her eye. Noting the his mother was tending to something else at the moment, Dion casually reached into the open cupboard and took out a juice glass. As he set in on the counter, he scooped up the necklace before it could be noticed and giving both his mom and dad a quick glance, he hurried from the kitchen, telling his mom, "Be right back," when he heard her say, "Take your juice to the table. Your oatmeal will be ready soon."
Unable to believe his luck, Dion hurried back upstairs. Whispering promises never to let the Amulet of Zulo out of his sight, he was tempted to rush outside and use it on Holly right away. But forcing himself to calm down, he knew that he would have to wait, and that, for the moment, he'd have to hide it. Disliking the idea of doing so, he headed for his room.
There, he stopped in the doorway and peered around at the familiar, comfortable, feminine decorations of primarily Unicorns and rainbows, and was again tempted to try and use it right away. But, reminding himself he didn't have any male clothes for himself at the moment, he took a deep breath and after a moment began to look for something to keep the necklace in. Squirreling it away in a small bag and in the back of his top dresser drawer, Dion gave it a wistful look and told it, "Soon. Soon you shall undo this girly nightmare and what has been done to Holly," before closing the drawer and heading back downstairs, just as his mom called up, "Taylor. Your breakfast it ready."
Downstairs in the kitchen, Martin worked his way through the usual Sunday breakfast Charlotte made for him. Slowly eating the scrambled eggs, stopping every so often to take a bite of toast, dry, or bacon, extra crispy, or a sip of his coffee, he absently brushed a lock of hair from his face as he thought of again what Charlotte had called him.
As he had sat reading the paper, Charlotte had turned from the stove and slid a plate in front of him. As she had done so, she told him, "Here you go, Holly," before turning back to stove.
Positive he'd heard how she'd addressed him, and bothered by it, he was tempted to call her out on it. Instead, as he reached for his fork, he tried to convince himself that he'd heard wrong as he began eating and that she had actually called him honey, like she had often did. But now, as he tucked his hair back behind his ear, oblivious to the fact that it had not only grown out again, but was now down past his shoulders, Martin wasn't so sure. Trying to figure out if he had heard correctly or not, he found himself overcome by even more oddities as Taylor came back in, grabbed her juice and sat down. Trying not to be obvious as he watched her eat her oatmeal, Martin found it wasn't just the Devil's thoughts and whether Charlotte had called him Holly or honey, but also that for some reason, he thought his own daughter was actually his big sister.