"You need a new name," I said. "You're not George anymore, so you have to stop being George. Let's see, what's a good name?" I thought for a few seconds. I would have entertained any ideas from George, though I'd likely shoot them down because he'd probably think of existing names. I was determined to create new ones. "How's this? Myrintha."
"Myrintha," George repeated. "Yea, I like the sound of that. Kind of exotic and mystic."
"Then you are now Myrintha," I said. "Embrace your new existence as Myrintha."
Myrintha looked back at herself in the mirror. "I think I can do that easily," she said.
"Bozantum, my dear," I said as I turned my attention to him. "I want you to do something for me, something that you're not going to normally hear me ask you to do."
"Anything, my goddess," he said.
"Good," I said. "I want you to give Myrintha the fucking of her life." Both Bozantum and Myrintha looked stunned. "That's right, you heard me. Myrintha, I want you to fully understand how much better it is to be a woman. Bozantum, you're the only one here that can make that happen."
Bozantum seemed like he wanted to protest, but changed his mind. "Very well, my goddess," he said.
"Wait, wait, wait," interrupted Myrintha. "I, uh...I'm fine with that if you are, but...what about my...I mean, what about George's family?" she asked.
I smiled at the fact the she was already separating herself from George. "That's up to you, Myrintha," I said. "We can bring them with us, which means they'll have to be changed, too, or you can just leave them here and make it so that they'll never remember you were ever here."
Myrintha had to think. After a few minutes of deliberation, she said, "Even if I'm not George anymore, I couldn't bear the thought of being forgotten by the family. Let's take them with us."
"Very well," I said. "While you two enjoy each other, I'll get them...prepared, let's say. Oh, and one more thing, Myrintha. You've probably noticed Bozantum say it, but in the presence of others, you must address me as 'my goddess,' is that understood?"
"Yes, my goddess," she said with a chuckle. "That sounds funny."
"I know, but it is an absolute necessity in the presence of others," I explained. "Now you two get started and just come downstairs when you're finished." With that I left the room and closed the door firmly behind me. I walked down the stairs and found my way into the kitchen. George's father was seated at the table, as were people I recognized as George's mother and his younger sister Kelly.
"Is everything OK?" asked George's mother.
"Oh, everything is just fine," I said. "Do you mind if I sit down?" George's mother shook her head. I sat down in what I presumed was George's seat at the table.
"So what exactly is this project...I'm sorry I don't know your name," said George's mother.
"Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Chrystalia," I said. They all looked at me funny. "I know, it's odd. My parents combined two names they liked." That was a blatant lie, of course, but it was accepted by all of them. "Basically, this project is about change." I strongly emphasized the last word. "We're doing a report on what happens when change is introduced in society."
George's father scoffed. "Sounds a little broad to me," he said. "How the hell do you report on that?"
I nodded. "I know what you mean. Our topic is to see what happens when big, massive, all-encompassing change is introduced. Like the end of slavery or adoption of civil rights or changes in government...things like that," I said. "But we're actually focusing on something a little more current."
"Oh, yea, what's that?" asked George's father.
"I'll be able to show you in a few minutes," I said. I had to keep myself from smiling. "But for now I wish that you'd all truthfully answer a few questions for me." I looked around at all of them to see if they noticed what I had said, but they all appeared normal. I decided to start with the easiest person at the table. That was Kelly. She was about 10-11 years old and I couldn't help but notice she had a lot of scrapes and bruises. "Kelly, why do you have so many bruises?" I asked.
"Because I play with the boys," she answered.
"Play...how?" I asked.
"You know, sports and stuff. Football," she explained. "I have to beat them up sometimes. Most of them are big wimps."
"Do you get into fights?" I asked.
"Yea, sometimes. But I always win," she said.
George's mother interrupted. "Yes, and then I hear from other parents about why my daughter is a bad influence and shouldn't play with their sons," she said. "My daughter causes me so much grief."
George's father made a derisive chuckle. "At least she sticks up for herself," he said. I'd always had a feeling that George's father was disappointed in George. I think he wanted a son who was going to be an athlete. At the very least it sounded like he wanted his son to not be a "wimp." I didn't care for this pseudo-tough guy act from George's father. So I posed the next question to him.
"So have you ever hit your wife?" I asked. Kelly dropped her fork on her plate and looked shocked. George's mother looked extremely apprehensive.
But George's father didn't even look at me as he replied, "Yea, once or twice." Suddenly he realized what he'd just admitted. "Wait, why the hell did I tell you that?" He stood up from his chair as an angry look developed on his face. "What the hell is this?"
I remained cool. "You told me because you wanted to," I lied. This didn't appear to satisfy him so I made sure I controlled the situation. "Sir, I wish you'd calm down and sit back down." He immediately complied. "You told me that because you've felt guilty about it, haven't you?"
"Of course he does," George's mother answered for him. She had a tear in her eye. "But it was so long ago, before Kelly was born. He changed since then. He cut back on drinking, we went to counseling, we got everything fixed," she said. I didn't know if this was the truth or not. George never mentioned anything about this. He might not have known. But I looked back at George's father to see him staring at the floor. "Isn't that right, dear?" his wife asked.
All he could do was slowly nod his head. He didn't lift his head to look at any of us. This told me he did genuinely feel guilty. That was a relief for me. It made me realize he wasn't as bad as I thought he was. Not that he was necessarily good, but not some kind of monster, either.
By this point I had come up with ideas for what to do about Kelly and George's father. I wasn't so sure about his mother. So I asked her, "If there's one thing you could change about yourself from either a physical or mental standpoint, what would it be?"
She dutifully replied, "I've always wanted to have a better body, but what woman doesn't?" George's mother wouldn't score very high in the looks department, but she certainly wasn't ugly. It sounded to me like she had a somewhat poor self-image. Being hit by her husband might have played a role in that, but so could countless other things. "Take care of yourself, dear," she said to me. "You've definitely got it."
I was flattered. "Thank you," I said. At this point I heard the sound of George's door open. Myrintha and Bozantum were about to join us. It was time for George's family to see just what change could be.