Eric or Erica? Pt. 01

I don't know that I'd ever been colder in my life. The temperature was in the upper 30's, there was a steady drizzle, and an even steadier breeze. I was soaked to the bone and the breeze just seemed to shove the cold right through my body. I found myself curled up in the doorway of one of the seedier neighborhoods of whatever city I was in, trying to protect myself from the elements. Unsuccessfully, I might add.

Me? I'm Eric O'Brien. I felt pretty stupid at the moment. Coming out of my alcohol-induced fog, I realized there was a very good chance I would die of hypothermia if I didn't find shelter, and fast. How the fuck did I get into this situation?

I'm an only child, raised by upper middle-class parents. I never wanted for anything. I was a good student and got a partial academic scholarship to college. Out of the confines of home and the loving direction of my parents for the first time, I turned to the party life. There wasn't a drink I wouldn't try. In retrospect, I had become an alcoholic before the end of my first semester. I lost my scholarship and flunked out by the time my freshman year had ended.

Back at home, I couldn't hold onto a job. I went into rehab, three times. After relapsing yet again, I sat down with my parents who were holding hands on the couch across from me. My mother was sobbing uncontrollably. "Son," my father said, "You can't live here anymore. You're out of control, you don't seem to have any desire to change, and you can see what this is doing to your mother. She can't take watching what you're doing to yourself. I can't take watching what you're doing to her. You need to leave, now."

He walked me to my room. I stuffed some jeans, underwear, shirts and a pair of work boots into the biggest backpack I had. He walked me to the front door. "You may not believe this, but this is hurting me more than it's hurting your mother. She'd let you stay forever with no restrictions. That's called 'enabling.' I love you enough to make you leave. That's called 'tough love.' If you ever get your shit together or you're willing to stick with rehab, you'll be welcomed back with open arms."

There wasn't anything I could say. I turned without looking back and headed out to the streets. I got by for a while. Unlike the vast majority of homeless people, I had a secret source of 'income.' I had access to a trust fund that my grandparents had left me. I was smart enough to use a complicated enough password that there was no way I could remember it if I was intoxicated. And I was always careful never to try to access it around any of the other homeless people I hung out with.

I moved from city to city as the whim struck me, never really making friends, never being around long enough to put down anything resembling roots. The one constant in my life was booze. And now I found myself in a life-and-death situation. As I struggled to my feet, the headlights of a car shined directly on me, blinding me.

I wasn't even particularly worried about getting arrested. At least it was warm and dry inside a jail cell. And I'd get fed too. Been there, done that, I was more than willing to do it again. "You there," boomed a voice of authority. "How tall are you?"

"Wh-What the hell kind of question is that?"

"It is a very simple question, a very easy to answer question. How tall are you?"

"I-I've never had a cop ask me how tall I am before. What kind of cop are you?"

"I'm not any kind of cop. I'm the person asking you how tall you are? If you answer me, I'll help you get warm and dry out. If you persist in asking questions, I'll drive away and let the weather take you."

Perhaps the onset of hypothermia had me confused or lacking any kind of good judgment. Either way, I answered without knowing who this person was or why the hell he wanted to know the answer to some random question. "I'm 5' 7 1/2" tall." I always included the half inch. When you're as short as me, every little bit matters!

"Get into the car." he answered.

Again, the situation got the better of me. My usual caution got thrown to the wind. I could get into the car, warm up, and try to figure out what the hell was going on before I decided my next move. Or I could stay on the street and probably die. I got in the car.

It was a big SUV, a Cadillac Escalade. I noticed the make as I was walking to the already opened passenger door. The seat heater was on, and the heating vents were directed at the seat. I sat down, feeling like I had died and gone to heaven. The car began to pull away.

The driver threw a huge fluffy towel into my lap. It was the same guy who had been talking to me. "Dry yourself off with this. Don't let the cold and damp dry up on their own. You might catch pneumonia." He didn't have to tell me twice. It felt like I was rubbing myself dry with a cloud. After a while, I realized we were on the interstate headed away from the city.

He took an exit out in the middle of nowhere and continued to drive down an isolated country road. Eventually, he pulled into the drive of what appeared to be a gigantic mansion. I hadn't noticed any other houses since we pulled off the interstate. The property was surrounded by a massive brick fence, at least ten feet tall. There were motion sensors spaced along the fence, as we had driven by, sections of the fence would light up.

Huge gates blocked the road. The driver put a code into a keypad that was semi-hidden and seemed to blend into the shrubbery on either side of the drive. The gates swung silently inward. We drove through and there was a security shed just past the arc of the gates. The driver stopped at the shed. "How many tonight?" the security guy asked.

"Just one." the driver answered.

"You may proceed."

The driver didn't reply but pulled forward.

The driveway was at least a half mile long before we reached the mansion. The driver pulled around to the side of the house. There was a garage that looked like the loading dock to a small warehouse. There were at least ten to twelve doors. The driver pulled up to door number seven, pressed the button on his garage door opener, and pulled inside.

We got out. I looked and most of the other bays were already occupied. By identical Cadillac Escalades. All of them black. "That's kind of weird." I thought to myself.

"Running a little late tonight, Dan?" one of the other drivers teased. At least I assumed he was one of the other drivers. He and my driver, Dan, were wearing non-descript black suits. And there were at least a half dozen other guys wearing the same suit. Dan gave the other guy a very level, cold stare until he turned away. "Just bullshitting around." I could hear the other guy muttering to himself.

"Follow me." Dan said.

I didn't feel like I had a lot in the way of options, so I did as he asked. Besides, I was warm and dry. He hadn't hurt me in any way, and he'd certainly had plenty of opportunity.

We went through a door and up a stairway. The door at the top of the stairs opened onto a long, narrow hallway. We went inside and Dan proceeded down the hall, which almost looked like the hallway of a hotel. Doors on either side, offset from one another depending on what side of the hall they were on. He seemed to be silently counting and stopped in front of a particular door. How the hell he knew where to stop was beyond me. All the damn doors looked exactly the same and there were no markings on any of them.

"What's your name, boy?" he asked.

"My name is Eric. And I'm not a boy. I'm twenty-two."

"Well, Mr. Eric Not-A-Boy, here are the house rules. Every day, you'll be asked if you want to leave. If you decide to go, you'll be returned to exactly where you were picked up, no questions asked. If you decide to stay, you agree to stay until the next night when you're asked if you want to leave. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head.

"Do you want to leave?"

Inside, there was a part of me screaming, "Leave! Leave now!" Not listening to that voice was kind of how I got here in the first place.

"I'll-I'll stay." I answered.

He waved a fob at the door, and it silently opened inwardly. "The door doesn't open from the inside. You do not have unlimited access to the house. Your room is much like a hotel room. There is a king-size bed and an en suite bathroom. There is also a flat screen with streaming services and a game system."

I smiled and nodded. "Please go clean up. You stink. I don't just mean you smell bad. You stink. Place your old clothes near the door. They'll be picked up while you're in the shower. You'll be provided with new clothes to wear. Someone will bring you a hot meal after you've finished cleaning up."

That's when it hit me. "Hey, Dan. I just realized I left my backpack and damn near everything I own in that doorway where you found me. Can someone go back and get it for me?"

"No." he answered coldly and dispassionately. "If I take you back there to get it, I'll leave you there."

"O-Okay. I guess I don't really need any of that stuff anyway."

I went inside. I could see him waiting in the hallway while the door closed. The room was just as he described it. There was a single casement window that looked out onto a large outdoor garden. It didn't open. It couldn't be opened. The window grille (on the outside of the window) appeared to be made of a substantially thick material. It wasn't just for decorative purposes.

Shrugging my shoulders, I did as Dan had instructed. I stripped off all my clothing and left them in a pile by the door. I still had my wallet. I hid that underneath the mattress. I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as I could stand it. The shower was one of those newer European types, easily twice the size of a standard American shower. Dan was right; I did stink. I stood directly underneath the shower head with my hands leaning against the shower wall. I had set the nozzle to pulsating massage, it was heavenly.

The only soap, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower was 'Lavender.' "Beggars can't be choosers." I thought. I scrubbed myself from head to toe twice, using the lavender soap and a loofah sponge. My hair had grown out past shoulder length since I left home. I didn't want to spend any money on haircuts that I could spend on alcohol. I shampooed and conditioned my hair three times. It took that many times to get all the kinks and knots out of my hair.

Getting out of the shower, I towel dried myself vigorously with a towel that was even fluffier than the one Dan gave me in the car. I couldn't remember the last time I felt this clean. Hell, I couldn't remember the last time I smelled this clean. I brushed my hair over and over until I had gotten all the tangles out and then walked into the sleeping / living area.

I immediately noticed the pile of clothes I had left near the door had disappeared. I also noticed a small pile of clothes on the bed. As I picked them up, I realized they were girl's clothes. Not super feminine, not super sexy, but definitely feminine. Sky-blue cotton panties, sky-blue pajama pants, and a sky-blue tank top with spaghetti straps. And fluffy sky blue slippers.

"What the fuck?" I thought to myself. "Somebody's made a big mistake and delivered these to the wrong room." I looked through all the dresser drawers and the closet. Nothing. Completely empty. Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Dinner." came the announcement.

"Shit." I thought to myself. I was fucking starving, and I could already smell the delicious meal through the door. "Fuck it, I can't eat naked." I thought to myself. "Just a moment. I have to finish getting dressed." I hurriedly threw the clothes on. "I'm dressed. You can come in now."

A middle-aged woman came in pushing a cart. She was dressed in hospital scrubs. She wore minimal makeup but was attractive all the same. Not beautiful, not sexy, but still attractive none the less. "Hi, I'm Tina. I brought your dinner and some vitamin supplements for you."

"I'm Eric. Thank you, I'm starving." The meal was plain but delicious. There was hot tea and milk as well. I finished off the meal in silence, I was starving. Tina waited patiently, smiling at the voraciousness of my appetite. I took the vitamin supplements also. Sated, I gave her my winningest 'Eric' smile and asked, "Any chance a fella might get a beer?"

Tina's smile immediately changed to a neutral look. "No. And isn't that how you wound up here in the first place?"

"Yeah," I thought to myself, "yeah, it is."

"So, what is this place anyhow? Huge mansion out in the middle of nowhere? Bunch of guys looking like MIB's, all driving the same expensive cars? What gives?"

"Before I begin, you need to know there are things I can tell you, and things I can't tell you. I won't offer any information, but I'll answer whatever questions I can." I nodded in understanding.

"Think of this as a halfway house. It's the most exclusive, most private halfway house in the country. I guarantee it's not listed anywhere, it's almost as if it doesn't exist. But here we are. I know you've already been told this, but you can leave any time you like. Check that, you can leave any day you'd like, at the exact time you're asked that question."

"What's with Dan? He seemed like a bundle of joy. And the rest of those lookalike clowns in the garage area. What gives?"

"First of all, they may be a lot of things, but they are NOT clowns. Every one of them is former military, most of them are heavily decorated. Dan might be the most decorated of all of them; the other guys defer to him and give him the utmost respect. Mr. Z pays them extremely well; that's how this place is able to maintain its privacy."

"Mr. Z? Who the hell is Mr. Z?"

"Dimitrios Zarkos. Mr. Z. He owns this place. Nothing happens here that he doesn't know about. You'll meet him before your first week is up if you decide to stay that long."

Tina stood up, gathered everything onto the cart and rolled it to the door. She stood at the door waiting.

"Um, one last question. Any chance I can get some boy clothes? Somebody must have accidentally put these girl's PJ's in the wrong room."

The door began to open; Tina hadn't done a thing to cause it to open. She looked at me and said, "I have no idea why those PJ's were put in this room but I can guarantee you it wasn't an accident. Accidents don't happen here. Mr. Z does not allow mistakes by the staff." With that she turned and left. The door closed automatically behind her.

Normally, I would have loved to play on the gaming system, but I was exhausted. Between my brush with hypothermia and feeling sated by the excellent meal, I thought I might fall asleep on my feet. I managed to make my way to bed. When I threw back the covers, I noticed the sheets were pink satin. "I don't care what Tina says, they definitely put me in the wrong room." I crawled into bed. My last waking thought was how exquisite the pajamas and sheets felt on my body.

I woke up the next morning. I had no idea what time it was. There were no clocks in the room. I got up and went to the bathroom to take my morning pee. When I returned to the sleeping area, I realized the monitor was on, although only a black screen was showing. "I must have been completely out of it last night. I damn sure don't remember turning on the monitor."

Just then the door opened. It was Tina pushing a cart with breakfast. "Hey sleepyhead. We always let newbies sleep in on their first day, but I'll definitely be getting you up earlier tomorrow, if you decide to stay."

The aroma coming from the cart was heavenly. The smell of hot coffee, grapefruit juice, bacon, sausage links, eggs, hash browns, and English muffins assaulted my nostrils. I hadn't realized just how hungry I was but without a stomach full of alcohol, I was starving. I ate it, I ate all of it! And there was another round of vitamins, I took them without any prodding from Tina. I wanted to show my appreciation for the meal.

"I brought you some workout clothes. Go ahead and change and I'll take you to the gym."

The workout clothes were androgynous. The yoga pants and tank top could have been worn by a guy or a girl and no one would have given them a second look. However, the ones that had been given to me were periwinkle, hardly a color most males would choose. And my shoes and anklets were a bright purple.

"Tina, can't you ask for something a little more masculine in color?"

"Nope." she replied quickly and firmly. "I bring what they give me. I don't ask any questions. I don't make any special requests. Let's go."

She took me to the gym. It wasn't packed but it was crowded. It was the first time I had seen anyone else but Dan and Tina for any length of time since I had gotten there. Tina led me to my own yoga mat and encouraged me to join in immediately. I realized quickly just how out of shape I had become. All of the exercises were aimed at stretching and toning but even those left me exhausted. An hour later, I was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Tina directed me back to my room. I noticed the MIB's were stationed at the entrance to every stairwell and in every hallway. None of them would look directly at me. We got back to my room, (How the hell Tina knew where we were going was beyond me. All the stairwells, all the hallways, all the doors looked identical.) and Tina waited until I went inside.

"Same deal as yesterday. Leave your dirty clothes by the door. You can take a shower. There will be new clothes on the bed for you by the time you finish. You can watch TV, play games, or take a nap. I'll see you again at lunchtime."

I took my shower, towel dried off, and found clothing that was even more feminine waiting for me. It was almost as if someone was saying, "You want to complain. I'll give you something to complain about!"

There was a pair of black women's stretch pants embossed with a snake print. There was a matching black crop top with that same embossed snake print. To make matters worse, the only underwear that had been given to me was a black satin thong. And my athletic shoes were definitely feminine with wedge heels.

Sighing, I got dressed, determined never to complain again. It was difficult walking about the room in those shoes. Even though they only had 2" heels, it was still 2" more heel height than I had ever walked in before.

I turned on the TV. The only shows that were streaming were all fashion shows for women. What to wear, how to wear it, makeup tips, etc. I left it on in the background but really started thinking about what was going on. I was clueless, the only lifeline I had was the knowledge I could leave any time I wanted. Well, at least that time in the evening they asked me if I wanted to stay. To say that I found myself in the most bizarre, confusing time of my life would be an understatement!

Tina brought lunch. As always, it was simple but aromatic and delicious. She smiled when she saw me. "You look cute."

"That's not funny. I'm not supposed to look cute. I'm a guy. I can guarantee you I won't be complaining about the clothes they sent me. It seems like the more I complain, the more feminine the outfits become!"

Tina hid her smile behind her hand.

And that's how the next two and a half days went. Workouts in the morning and afternoon and three-square meals a day. I also discovered the only games available on the gaming system were 'makeover' or 'fashion' games. And any time I fell asleep, I always woke up with the TV on in the background, even if it was just a black screen.

Then, the evening of day four, withdrawals hit, hard. Tina had just brought my dinner when I began to sweat profusely. I was shaking and confused, I couldn't even remember where I was. Tina contacted someone and leather restraints were brought in. I was cuffed to the bed, both wrists and ankles. I went in and out of consciousness all night.