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1

A single wisp of white cloud broke up an otherwise flawless, blue sky over the isolated town of Vollmer's Hollow. It was late spring and the school children were anxiously awaiting the beginning of the summer holidays. A young girl trotted along a quiet back street at a pace that was half-walk, half-run. The hard soles of her shoes made a loud CLIP, CLAP, CLIP, CLAP as they made contact with the sidewalk. Her breath came in exaggerated gasps as she progressed. She was plagued by asthma, although on this day it had given her no trouble at all until she realized that she had forgotten her puffer.

Little Dianne was built rather awkwardly. Top heavy, her shape and mannerisms were more that of a little boy than a girl. She couldn't be described as obese, but she was stocky. She had long, wavy, auburn hair, and strangely magnetic eyes. People who talked to her were always drawn to those eyes, a strange shade of bluish green, almost aqua. Other than these eyes, her features were unremarkable. The square line of her jaw made her appear masculine. If her face was only a little more rounded she might have been pretty.

Dianne was wearing a plaid blue jumper over a white blouse with slightly ruffled sleeves, and she was clutching a small stack of books close to her chest. Her knees were scabbed and grass stained. Dianne hated wearing dresses. She thought that they were ridiculous outfits and she looked uncomfortable in them. She always had to be careful how she sat, so as not to expose her panties. Dresses also made playing ball very difficult. If she fell, the boys could see her underwear and then they would tease her.

Dianne had protested to her parents on more than one occasion about having to wear dresses to school, but to no avail. As far as they were concerned, it was proper for a little girl to dress like a little girl, and that meant dresses. She tried to explain her difficulties while playing with the boys at recess.

"Dianne, you really should be playing with the other girls at school. Sports are better left to little boys than little girls."

Although she kept from showing it, (she was very good at hiding her feelings) that statement had infuriated her. Life would be so much easier if she was a boy.

As she continued to make her way along the sidewalk that bright afternoon, Dianne came across a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. She looked down at it, and as she did her asthma worsened as it did when she became excited. Pathetic little thing, she thought, and rage welled up inside her. As she watched the bird, her head trembled from side to side. Her bright, aqua eyes fixated on it, and for the moment everything around her ceased to exist. She found the helplessness of the little creature to be infuriating. Intolerable.

She moved a step closer to the bird and raised her foot. Then, with as much force as she could muster, she stomped on it. She could feel small bones crunch and a smile crossed her lips. Then she ground her heel down on the dead bird, and again this pleased her. For the moment she entirely forgot about her asthma. She was breathing as evenly as any normal girl her age would while sunning them self on such a fine day.

With the knowledge that the bird was dead her anger faded, and she resumed her way home. CLIP, CLAP, CLIP, CLAP. Her asthmatic huffing returning after only a few strides.

2

Sparky Richards could only gape when the behemoth first walked into the gym. The man he was looking at was 6'9", and easily 300 pounds. Of course, even this impressive size would be exaggerated when his training was complete, and he was introduced by the announcer before he stepped into the ring. Sparky had been expecting him.

"You've got to see this guy," Gus Daniels had told him. "He's a giant. Even if he can't wrestle he'll sell tickets."

Gus was the wrestling troupe's promoter. He had stumbled onto the big man at a circus sideshow where Malcolm had been performing as a strong man. Malcolm Howard was a rather mundane name for a man of such intimidating stature, but that was an easy fix. They could give him a ring name once they got him out on the road.

"We're probably going to have to do something about his face too," Gus had warned.

"Why? What's wrong with his face?" Sparky asked.

"Well, it's sort of...gentle looking," Gus said. "It's hard to explain, you'll have to see for yourself."

Sparky did see. As scary as Malcolm's size was there was a calm in his features that made him look too relaxed to be threatening to anyone. A mask will fix that, Sparky thought. Sparky and Gus had been in the wrestling game for a long time. It hadn't generated a whole lot of revenue at first, it began as not much more than the sideshow, but the two of them, along with some clever marketing strategists had turned that around, and they were making more money than they had ever dreamed possible. With the increasing popularity of the 'sport', they knew that there was much more yet to come. With a man like Malcolm standing before him, Sparky saw dollar signs.

3

The rusty spring made a painful sounding SPROING as it stretched to allow the screen door to open.

"Hello sweetheart," called Dianne's mother, from the bathroom where she was wrestling with the wringer washer.

"Hi," answered Dianne, from the kitchen.

Lucille emerged from the bathroom and found her daughter rummaging through the cookie jar. "How was your day, honey?" asked Lucille.

"Good," the girl answered.

Lucille had become accustomed to short replies from her daughter, and didn't bother to try to get her to elaborate. She knew that if she asked her daughter what she had done that day, Dianne would simply reply with, "the usual stuff."

Lucille had always wished that she and Dianne could have a close relationship, but that seemed impossible with the young girl. She always seemed so wrapped up in her own little world, her mind somewhere else thinking secret thoughts. On the rare occasions when Dianne did get excited about something enough to want to talk about it, it was on some strange subject like brain abnormalities, or bugs, or something like that. Hardly a conversation that Lucille could relate to.

Doug and Lucille Martin had hoped to raise a large family. A brother or sister might have helped Dianne to become a more socially adept, but it had taken a long time for them to conceive their only daughter, and they'd had no luck after her. This was in the days before there were such things as fertility clinics, and as time passed on, the Martin's resigned themselves to the fact that the good Lord had deemed fit to bless them with only a single child.

Dianne's father was secretly disappointed that he had never had a son. A son who could take over the family's plumbing business when the time came. The Martin's weren't rich, but Doug had gained a good reputation in the Hollow as a responsible and able plumber and his business had flourished. He provided well for his family. Without a son, he didn't know what he would do with his business once he was ready to retire. Perhaps when the time approached he would take on an apprentice, and eventually turn his clientele over to him, but it would have been nicer if he'd had a son to keep the business in the family. He had never mentioned these thoughts to anyone, not to Lucille, and certainly not to Dianne, but Dianne had known that Daddy would have been happier if she had been boy.

I bet if I was a boy Daddy would play catch with me, or take me fishing with him on Sundays, Dianne had thought. She would have been surprised to find that it wasn't because she was a girl that her father didn't do such things, it was because he couldn't relate to her. Her sex had nothing to do with it. This bothered Doug. He was an easy going man who made friends easily, yet he couldn't seem to break through his own daughter's... well, weirdness. He was ashamed to admit it, but weird was the right word, and it wasn't a healthy weird either. One of his friends had a weird kid who wore glasses as thick as the bottom of a pop bottle, and was infatuated with bees. That kid could yammer away for hours about the damned things, but he was a likable weird, and Doug knew it was something that the kid would eventually grow out of. His daughter's weirdness was different. It wasn't anything that you could put your finger on, yet whatever it was, it was far more profound. And it gave him the creeps. He loved his daughter, and he cared for her well-being, but he didn't like Dianne. Doug wouldn't have believed that this combination of feelings was possible if he hadn't felt them for himself. That was the truth of the matter. He loved his daughter, but he didn't like her, and spending time with her was a chore. There was, however, one hour each week in which he could...