by grapehyacinth
 

Apparently the phone was ringing, but I was too wrapped up in washing our clothes to hear it. Well, I couldn't get it anyway – I was a washing machine at present.

My husband came over to me, sticking the phone out. “It's for you.”

I stared at him like he was stupid. “Um, Roman, washing machines find it hard to take phone calls. You know, the whole 'not having any hands' thing?”

“It's that girl Tammy again. She wants your notes...again.”

I sighed. I had made the mistake of giving this girl the notes to our Biochemistry class once, and now she was constantly after me. I'd only seen her at one lecture, and she never understood the subject matter, yet her grades were impeccable. In fact, she did well in every subject, she was president of several clubs and her sorority...Whatever.

“Tell her I'll give them to her after Biochem tomorrow,” I lowered my voice. “That'll make her come to class for once.”

Roman got back on the phone, but I don't know what he said because my rinse cycle kicked in.

It was now October, and my sophomore year of college was in full swing. My mother and stepfather were horses at present, thanks to my husband's transforming them at their request. They were also expecting a child...well, colt... We were really nervous about Mom's pregnancy, as was she, but so far, she was doing okay.

Meanwhile, Roman and I were trying unsuccessfully for a child, and it was making me hysterical.

We sat eating breakfast, and I, as was becoming the norm, was in tears.

And for once, Roman looked morose about it. He gave me his usual “It takes some people years to conceive,” but his heart was not in it.

“I think I should get to the gynecologist and get checked out,” I whimpered.

He sighed. “Honestly, I think I'm the one that should.” He caught himself as I started to laugh. “I mean, see a doctor. I don't need a gynecologist. Well,” he looked down at himself and raised an eyebrow, “not today.”

Yes, Roman had made himself female more than once, and it admittedly was weird. But he'd made me laugh, and I could see it heartened him somewhat.

But his face quickly fell. “I still think it's probably me,” he said, looking away. “I'm old.”

“But your body is young!” I protested. “We've discussed this before!”

“I don't know. It shouldn't be a problem. If your mom and stepdad can do this as horses...” His voice trailed off.

“Roman, I'm still making an appointment.”

Biochem was not very exciting that day, and I noted the very gaping absence of Tammy. Professor Mack ended a half hour early, so, seeing as she was not there yet, I figured I'd pick up some lunch in the cafeteria next door and then go back to meet her. And after this, I decided, I wasn't giving her any more notes.

I returned from lunch to find the lecture hall empty, but there was a strange scuffling sound coming from one of the back office doors.

What was that? Was there an animal trapped inside?

I rushed over and yanked open the door.

Big mistake.

There, on the floor, was my Biochem professor, straddled by Tammy.

“Oh my God I'm sorry!” I slammed the door and made my way home so fast that I'm lucky I didn't kill anyone.

Roman couldn't stop laughing when I'd told him what happened. “Well, now we know how she does so well,” he chuckled.

But I was shaking. I did not like Tammy, but at the same time, if she was sleeping around, I didn't want to know about it, let alone see it. I could never face that girl again.

“I'm so embarrassed,” I murmured, hugging Roman tightly.

“You? Why should you be embarrassed? She's the one that's sleeping around for the grades. Talk about 'Making the Grade'! Oh, boy!”

The gynecologist called to say there was a cancellation that afternoon, so I took the appointment. Roman came along, but I knew they wouldn't let him in the room with me, so I wore him as a ring. When the doctor finished me, I was pronounced in perfect health.

Roman, back in human form, walked beside me as we left the office. “That's great news! Why are you so glum?”

I gazed at him, not wanting to say what was in my head.

But he knew. “I made an appointment already. Don't worry.”

Just then, a very pregnant woman walked by, laughing with another woman who was also expecting. I cringed.

And Roman tried to come to the rescue with, “I can give you a stomach like that, at least...you can pretend, see what it feels like...”

The whole idea disgusted me. “That's awful, Roman. I mean, what would you do, just make me bigger? It's not like there'd be a baby in there!”

Roman scratched his head. “Maybe we should switch sexes and it'll work for real if you're the man because you really are young.”

Incredulous, I turned to him as we made our way across the parking lot. “No way! I want to have the kid! That's just freaky if you have it. And what about records and stuff? There's no records of Roman Smyth the woman.”

“True, true.”

“And–”

“Watch out, Corrie!!”

Everything happened at once then. There was the gunning of an engine, squealing brakes, and Roman was pulling me into the grass.

I turned to see Tammy stick her head out of the car skidding by and scream, “You bitch! I'm going to kill you when you least expect it!” And she sped away.

“That girl is a lunatic,” Roman noted. “Completely unbalanced.”

We were sitting on the couch back home. I was hyperventilating.

“What is she, following me around?” I exclaimed. “I guess she's afraid I'm going to talk.”

“Tell her you won't. Wait...are you going to?”

I pondered this carefully. How long had Tammy's loathsome behavior been going on? For that matter, had she even gotten into college on her own merit, or had she shacked up with an admissions officer?

“I don't know...maybe I should. Yes,” I decided.

“Hm,” Roman said. “I don't disagree, but then she's going to try to murder you. And I think we mean this literally. We're going to have to teach her a lesson.”

Oh, no. A lesson from Roman...that could scar someone for life. And the afterlife, too.

The next day was a Friday. I wore my “Roman-bracelet” to class as protection, but Tammy didn't make an appearance. When we got home, Roman went off to his doctor appointment, making it very clear that he didn't want me to accompany him. I was a bit incensed at this, but I realized he was ashamed that the whole “me not getting pregnant problem” might be his fault, so I didn't push things.

Roman was not happy when he returned from his appointment.

“They told me there's no big problem, but I'm not in the best of shape! Me! What else do I need to transform to make my body any more perfect? And they said I should watch my eating...”

Well, the doctor was right there. The amount of junk Roman ate was unimaginable. “You really don't eat that well, Roman,” I admitted.

“But it never really mattered to me. I can always change my...fatty liver to a healthy one, or... lower that high cholesterol level...”

“Well, maybe it actually does matter.”

“They said male...things...might be...slower...or less... than usual...” Always the old-fashioned gentleman, he didn't look like he wanted to elaborate on this, but I got the basic idea. “Somehow I'll have to fix that all... I'll have to think about how.”

I looked at him mournfully, and he made a deep sigh. “Salad for dinner?”

“Works for me.”

“Corrie! Dinner!”

I went down and sat at the table, waiting for Roman to come in.

My chair suddenly shook. “Ah, that's perfect!” it announced.

Startled, I jumped up. “Roman! You scared me! What are you doing?”

“Oh, please, sit down. I'm happy to support you and make you comfortable.”

Oh, great. Roman was in one of his depressive moods. “I hate when you get like this, Roman. You'd think at your age you'd be past the 'I'm worthless' stage. You know you're not worthless.”

“Well, I like that I'm being useful now,” said my chair.

“Roman,” I said, poking at my salad. “What should we do about Tammy?”

“Well, we have until Monday to decide. How about we talk about it later?”

“Fine, but I would like it if I had a dinner companion.”

“You do!”

“That's not a chair.”

“Fine.”

I stood up to let him change back, and Roman promptly turned into a sock.

Roman was up before me on Saturday morning. A clinking sound coming from the kitchen woke me, and went down to investigate.

“Roman, what are you up to now?”

My husband, looking sleep-deprived, was busy removing one of the tiles from the floor.

“I'm finally replacing this broken tile,” he mumbled, pulling it from the crumbling grout.

“With what? Did you find an extra one?” I looked around, searching for another tile, but I didn't see one. “Are you going to make one? Couldn't you have just changed the broken one into one that's whole again?”

“I'm replacing it with me.” Roman stepped into the spot, and then shrank down and became a floor tile no different from the ones around him.

I stared down at him first angrily, then jealously. Even though he was doing this because he was obviously feeling worthless, being part of the floor actually looked kind of fun. “Hey! Make me one too!” I stamped my foot on him.

And he treated me to one of those quick-changes I was not so thrilled with. My body was practically sucked to the floor as I shrank, flattened, hardened, and grew square all at the same time. Now I lay next to the new Roman/tile, on top of the floor.

Now what was the point in that? Hey! I protested. I'm not part of the floor! I'm on top of it.

Oh, Corrie, I heard Roman's voice in my mind. Come on, let me be. I'm finally doing some good here. For you to join me, I'll have to change back, pull out another tile...

Just change the one next to you into...air or something!

Come on! Just be a tile on top of the tiles. It's no different.
It is different! It makes me feel worthless, like I'm not contributing to the floor!

My retort was ridiculous, and we both knew it, but it got my point across. Roman grew back into himself and gathered me up.

“Ah, the things I want to do to you, my little jealous tile.” He rubbed at my smooth surface, making me purr.

On Monday, I sat through Biochem, twisting bracelet-Roman nervously around my wrist. He and I both noted the worried looks Professor Mack gave me, and Roman desperately wanted to talk to the man.

Roman became human after the lecture, and we walked over to the Professor's office. “Why do you want to talk to him?” I mumbled nervously. I really didn't like the idea of confronting him.

“Because this is crap, and that girl has serious psychological problems. She needs help, and if he's taking advantage of her–”

“I'm not.”

The office door had opened that very moment, and the surprised Dr. Mack gazed at us.

Roman grew angry. “How can you stand there and tell me that you, a grown, fifty-something man– ”

“Forty-nine!”

“Forty-nine. Even better,” Roman shook his head in irritation. “Oh, you young ones, all free and easy with the...”

For once, Roman actually sounded his age. Yes, he sounded like an eighty-five-year-old.

Dr. Mack looked confused. “You're easily half my age.”

“My God,” Roman spat. “My God...”

The professor glanced behind us. “Please, come in here.” He pulled us into the office, then shut and locked it behind him. “Listen, I was forced.”

“Right. The girl forced you to–”

“I was forced!” he shrieked, and we both fell silent. The man had tears in his eyes.

“She told me if I gave her good grades, she'd reward me. If I didn't take her offer, she'd...kill my wife.”

We both stared at him incredulously.

“You didn't have to sleep with her, you know.”

“She wanted that! She said she's really into older men...professors and doctors...”

“Ugh,” I said in disgust. Then Roman made a little wave at me.

Oh, yeah...old men...

“Oh, God, I never thought it would come to this,” Dr. Mack moaned.

“You seemed fine with it when I walked in on you,” I muttered.

“Well how did you want me to act? I can't get her mad!”

“Why didn't you go to the police?” Roman thundered.

Dr. Mack gulped. “Remember Ronald Thorgenson passed away last year?”

“I wasn't going to college here yet,” I said.

“Professor Thorgenson disappeared last year, and they found him floating in the bay. She told me she did it. He threatened to out her, so she poisoned him and dumped the body herself.”

I found myself marveling at the fact that she had managed to carry a body that far. She must have been pretty strong. But she was also psychotic.

“She needs to be stopped,” said Roman.

“Please, don't let her know I said anything,” the professor begged.

“Not a problem,” said Roman, nodding his head. “Not a problem.”

Roman obviously had a plan.

After my next Biochem class, I purposely walked around the building and took a path through the woods. Normally, if I was alone and I was being pursued by killers, I'd be just a bit anxious doing this. But my husband was with me, so I felt brave. Yes, he was at present in the form of a sparkly bangle bracelet on my arm, but he was there.

“Going somewhere, Corrie?”

Roman tightened on my wrist and my heart started to pound.

I flipped around. As expected, there stood Tammy. Boy, she was pretty predictable for someone who was so unbalanced.

I rolled my eyes, trying to look tough. “Tammy, what's the problem? Are you following me around so you can kill me too?”

“Ah, I guess good old Dr. Mack told you that all. Seriously, don't you realize that I saw you go talk with him?” Tammy smiled, coming toward me. “So he told you about me, and you know I'll hurt you if I have to. I can't have you talk. No one's ruining my reputation!”

I felt Roman snicker on my wrist.

Honestly, I couldn't believe this was even happening. I'd never dealt with a murderer before, and yes, if the tale about Thorgensen was true, then that's what she was – a murderer. A college-aged, sorority-girl, murderer.

Roman pinched me slightly, and I held him up to my ear.

“Show her what you can do,” he suggested.

I crossed my arms together and stood tall. “I think you've finally messed with the wrong girl, Tammy.”

She started laughing. “Can you keep your mouth shut, freshman, or should I start messing with you?”

“I don't think you'll be doing that, when you see what I really am!”

My body gave a lurch, and I was swiftly expanding and growing large. I steeled myself for whatever it was Roman was changing me into.

Tammy staggered back in silent horror as I began to tower over her. My skin was growing green and scaly, and when I felt wings springing from my back, I smiled gleefully. Roman was turning me into a dragon.

When my huge head collided with the treetops, I exclaimed, Too tall, Roman! in my mind. I immediately shrank a few inches and then stopped.

Oh, boy, I still was immense!

Tammy, meanwhile, was rooted to the floor in fear. She was crying, and I stepped closer to her, crushing several saplings in the process.

“You don't bother me again, or I'll do this!” I cried through my huge jaw. I tried to breathe fire, but all that came out was...air.

My mouth remained open. I bet that looked pretty idiotic.

Sorry, Roman said in my head. I didn't think to make you a fire-breather.

Tammy gaped at my sharp teeth, and I floundered. I had to say something before she got brave...

“Yes, you see my teeth? I would very much enjoy using them to make a meal of you!” I added, with great emphasis on the “meal” part.

Tammy ran away.

“'Biochemistry Professor stabbed',” a pale Roman read off our local news channel.

I gasped, clasping my hand over my mouth. There just weren't any words for what was going through my mind. I knew this girl truly had a problem, and supposedly she had poisoned a professor, but there was no proof there. For all we knew, she might have just been boasting to scare Dr. Mack.

But now...

I jumped in in fear. “Oh, God, Roman, she told Dr. Mack she'd kill his wife...”

Roman snapped off the television. “I'll keep watch on their house. Find out where they live.”

“I'll go with you.”

As birds, we watched over the professor's house that night. All seemed well, and we slept in the trees in the yard. The next morning, a teary, drawn Mrs. Mack entered her car. She drove off, and we followed her to the hospital. She stayed there most of the day, and we had to hang out in the trees once more. When it started to rain, Roman transformed us into rocks, then water, and then chipmunks. Anything to pass the time.

At dusk, Mrs. Mack finally came out, her face red and weepy. We followed her back to her house. She went inside, and soon all the lights were off indoors.

“She went to sleep. Should we watch overnight?” I asked.

“Well, now we can, but Corrie, when you have class on Monday, I'll have to patrol myself.”

“Whether I sleep here or in my own bed, I'm still sleeping!”

“Sh!”

A car cut its engine several houses down the street. “It's gotta be Tammy!” I gasped.

“Not necessarily. Could be anyone.”

That moment, we spied Tammy stealthily edging onto the Mack's property.

“Told ya!” I whispered.

Roman shook his head, exasperated and enraged. “I've had it! That's enough!” He flew from the tree.

“Roman!” I hissed in fear. “What are you doing?”

He landed at Tammy's feet, and she stepped back in alarm. Then Roman turned into a man.

“What are you doing here, Tammy?”

“Oh, God! OH, GOD! There's more of you? Please, I didn't do anything!”

“You didn't DO anything?” Roman thundered. “You didn't stab that poor man?”

“I mean, I didn't do anything today...” she squeaked. She tried to cover her pocket, but even I could see the knife gleaming from it.

But Roman was shaking his head back and forth. “No, no, that's it. You've pulled this for long enough, Tammy.”

“Roman, she's got a knife!”

I can't describe the utter horror I felt as Tammy lunged at my husband with the weapon. He leaped back, but not in time for her to slice a nasty gash in his arm.

But Roman didn't even wince. He smiled.

All three of us watched the blood spurting from the wound in profound silence. Roman remained grinning, almost entranced by the spectacle.

“Roman!” I fluttered to his shoulder. “Roman! Help yourself!”

He chuckled. It was actually eerie.

Tammy dropped the knife, backing away. “What the hell is wrong with you, you psychotic–”

Roman nodded, “That's an apt description,” he murmured, running his hand through the blood. The drops hardened and fell to the ground as sparkling rubies.

“Oh my God...” Tammy reached toward them, and Roman swatted her away.

“Don't you touch those. No more blood for you!” Then he focused on his wound, and it healed. Well, I guess he transformed his arm to be whole again, but it was still cool.

Tammy's jaw dropped. “Who are you?” she whimpered.

“I'm Roman, and you're a pig.”

“How dare you call me a – oh!” Her body was changing rapidly, and Roman beamed at her discomfort. She immediately fell to all fours, her hands and feet shifting into hooves. “Oh, what are you doing to me? You can't do this to me! I'm Tammy! I'll be president one day!”

“You might end up as someone's dinner too!”

“You can't eat me!”

“No, why would I want to? You probably taste disgusting.” Roman snickered, his eyes twinkling. “You're not even kosher!”

“Kosher?!” Her eyes, full of rage, shrank into beady, dark porcine orbs, and her mouth grew into a snout. “I...can't talk...like this...oink! Oink!” She made an angry growl and shriek in frustration.

You bastards should all go to hell and die!

“Now, now, Tammy, I can still hear your thoughts. So can Corrie since she's transformed.”

Go to hell, you ass.

“No, it's your turn...you ass!” Roman thought this was very funny.

“Um...Roman, she's not a donkey...” I noted.

“Oh, yeah,” he shrugged. “I knew that.”

“But Roman, she needs help,” I whispered. We were watching through the fence as Tammy the pig refused to eat from a food trough. Roman had loaned her to a nearby petting zoo, but she refused to do anything except stand in a corner.

Roman snorted. “Yes. She needs a therapy session with someone who specializes in pigs.”

It's funny. I disliked the girl so much, and yet a part of me knew there had to be some reason she was exhibiting such frightening behavior. “There's got to be something wrong with her, Roman. She truly needs psychological help.”

“And she'll get it. First she needs punishment. And she needs to be in a place where she's humbled. This is it.”

“But...”

“She's convinced that everything she's done is right, the intimidation, possible murder–” He raised his eyebrows at this, “and she thinks she's the best thing in the world. This will bring her down a few rungs. When she's ready, we'll change her back, and we'll make her turn herself in. I'm hoping some jail time and rehabilitation will help ease her back into society. But she's not ready for that yet.”

Nearby, Tammy squeaked in anger as a child tried to pet her plump body.

“She hates how fat she's become,” Roman chuckled. “I think she looks a lot better with some meat on her bones. Meat! Ha, ha.”

I sighed as we turned away. Tammy obviously noticed we were leaving, and I heard her galloping towards us, squealing in protest.

Neither one of us looked back at her.