Destiny

“No?” Tim was just about to go out the front door to meet his date when his father, Terry Thompson, appeared in the hallway, “what do you mean no? I’m twenty-one, I don’t need to ask permission to go out.”

Tim’s relationship with his father had never been great. While Tim wasn’t a rebellious youth, he had always pushed boundaries with his dad in ways he had never done with his mom. Not big things like stealing cars or doing ****, but missing curfews, skipping chores, and ignoring house rules had been common.

His dad had responded with anger. The man had a temper that had scared Tim when he was a child, but when he became a teenager it became a game, a challenge, to see if he could make his father blow his top. And he usually won.

The logic of a teenager. Pushing his dad to lose his temper, then blaming him for the punishment that followed. Despite being older and acknowledging to himself the pattern of behaviour, Tim had not been able to move passed the feelings of resentment attached to his sire.

“I’m sorry, Tim,” his dad said curtly, “but I told you last week that I would need you in the basement today to fix the washing machine. I have it apart already, and I’ll be damned if I have to put it together by myself,” Tim’s dad stepped closer and spoke in a low, intimidating tone, “and as long as you live under my roof, you’ll live under my rules. I don’t care how old you are.”

“Come on!” Tim complained, towering over his dad in Tabby’s wedge heels, “she’s already here!”

“And you’ll have to change out of those clothes,” his dad said, ignoring what he said, “ask Tabby if she has something she doesn’t mind getting messy. It’s dirty work.”

Tim’s dad turned to leave, and Tim felt it. That hopeless feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was doomed to be alone forever. Even with magical intervention, the world conspired to keep him single. He’d sacrificed so much (he was wearing a dress for goodness sake!) and still, in the end, it would be the same, another night alone, feeling sorry for himself.

Then the sound of his father’s receding footsteps stopped. Tim looked up, and saw that he had paused mid-stride. Not just paused, but was suspended in time. He looked over at the clock on the wall. The second hand had stopped moving. It was happening again!

“Mmmm… delicious…” came a nasally voice. Turning to find it, he saw a plump teenage girl sitting on the floor by the stairs. She was wearing an identical outfit to Tim, the same sundress and heels, but filled it out in entirely different ways.

“Wait,” she looked up, eyes searching, “who the fuck…”

“Me the fuck,” came the familiar voice of the old woman, strolling into the frozen hallway from the living room.”

“Justice,” the girl seethed.

“Destiny,” the old woman said in a sing-song voice.

“You!” Tim said, surprised at how quickly his anger burst to the surface, probably a skill he had learned from his father, “you did this to me! You have to fix it!”

“Fix what?” The old woman said, confusion in her voice. She wiggled her fingers, “nothing is broken, the trade stands. All is fair.”

“You call this fair?!”

“Be quiet, mortal,” the girl said, climbing to her feet, “know your place. You shouldn’t even be allowed to see us. What are you playing at, sister?”

“This is no game,” the old woman said, crossing her arms, “I’m tired of watching you and Luck gorging yourselves on this wretched creature. Hasn’t this kid been through enough?”

“His fate is written! He is mine to feast on!” Destiny approached Tim and touched his chest with a finger, causing his entire body to feel numb, “Regret and resentment, alone with his despair. It’s all there. You would deny me this feast?”

“He will deny you,” the old woman waved her hand at Tim, grinning, causing the girl’s hand to jerk away, restoring sensation, “I’m just here to help. And make sure it’s fair, of course.”

“Now wait a minute,” Tim said, “what makes you think I would do that again? The last time you helped, you turned me into a crossdresser!”

“I could leave,” the old woman paused, stared at the ceiling, and traced a small circle on the floor in front of her with her right foot, the way a young child might, “but what my sister says is true. Your fate, your future is bleak. I could leave you to her, and you would be alone, no matter how sexy I make you to women. Again and again you would be kept from opportunity to find love, becoming more and more bitter, each failure a nail in the coffin of your happiness. If that’s what you want, I can just go.”

She turned to leave, but her words hit Tim hard.

“Wait,” he said, stepping toward her, “maybe I do need help. But look at me. I can’t even own my own clothes anymore,” then an idea hit him, “could I swap that with my dad?”

The girl laughed. “Yes! Please do! Then the feast shall continue!”

“You’ve got to be smarter than that, blockhead,” the old woman said, tapping the side of her head with a gnarled finger, “how is that going to get you out this door and on your date?”

“It’s not, I guess,” Tim said, crestfallen. He had hoped that this would be his chance to get things fixed.

“Tell you what,” she said, “since you feel like you got the raw end of the deal, I’ll try to use that for the far side of the trade. As long as you pick something the right size, that is.”

“You can do that?” Tim was overjoyed, “thank you so much!”

“Can’t have people going around saying Justice is a bitch, now can we?”

“I will it stand for this!” The girl’s voice rose to a fevered pitch, “you can not deny me…”

“I deny you!” The old woman spoke with fury as she locked eyes with the girl, “I have made my claim, and Justice will be served. Leave now before I show you what happens when I get really mad!”

“Fine,” the girl spat, “he tasted sour, anyway.”

There was a metallic smell that filled the hallway, then Destiny vanished.

“Excellent,” the old woman said, rubbing her hands together, “now let’s make a deal!”