Moonlit Mayhem

6

Chapter 6: Emie

As Emie put Spades back in her stall, she could smell something burning and the sound of meat sizzling. Despite the burning smell, Emie's stomach grumbled. Following their nose, Emie made her way over to the concrete, where the BBQ appeared to be on fire. As Emie neared, she could see that the heat was way too high. Becky didn't seem to notice the students' looks as she hummed some pop song, turning their hotdogs and flipping their burgers. 
Foolishly, Becky was trying to heat up the buns on the upper rack. The buns were placed on paper plates, which were smoking, yet to catch on fire. It happened in seconds. The plates caught fire, one of them sending sparks to the stack of paper plates which quickly caught fire as well, the buns were next, catching fire as well. All the students stood around Becky, mouth agape, and a feeling of shock settled over the group. They knew just as well as Emie that something bad was bound to happen if no one intervened. 
"Becky!" Emie shouted, effectively getting her attention. "Are you insane?"
"I'm just cooking lunch," Becky said. "Calm down!"
"Have you learned in school that paper burns?"
Becky seemed confused at first until she glanced over at the barbeque and noticed the smoldering plates. Heavy footfalls neared the group, something dragging behind whoever was nearing them. Emie spun around to see Flip running towards them, tugging the heavy black hose in his wake. The hose left thick trails of water, and Flip brought the hose up spraying everything. Anything that could possibly catch fire was immediately extinguished. The only downside—besides the ruined food—was Becky who was thoroughly drenched and looked about ready to kill. 
"W-why—" Becky said, sputtering and spitting out water. "Flip!"
"Becky! You ruined our lunch!" Emie accused. 
"I did not!" she snapped back indignantly. "Flip soaked it!" 
"But you burnt it first!" Emie complained, realizing just how childish she sounded. 
"So?" Becky snapped. 
"So, you are taking orders for McDonald's," Emie said. 
"Why should I?" Becky argued. 
"Because you burnt the food." Emie pressed. 
Becky gave one final glare before stomping to her car, being sure to kick up as much dust as possible, just to annoy Emie. Ten minutes later, the barn's eating area was spotless. Becky pulled up, juggling eight brown paper bags, her clothes freshly pressed and dry.
"Get the drinks and food," she ordered Flip. setting the bags on the long picnic table. 
"I got the McDonald's five-course meal," Becky announced poshly. 
Internally, Emie wondered exactly when McDonald's had added a five-course meal to their menu. Once the bags were opened, it became apparent that Becky had bought about ten of everything on the McDonald's menu, drinks and dessert included. It was indeed a five-course meal. Once everyone finished, Becky announced:
"Papa isn't going to be happy that he has to call our car detailer for a second time today."
"Okay everyone, go grab a pitchfork and wheelbarrow," Emie said ignoring Becky's complaints.
The rest of the day was thankfully quiet, Emie didn't think they could take anything else happening. They needed a break from the chaos. All that needed to be done was to say goodbye to the students and to lock up the tack. Then, Emie would finally be able to relax at home. Emie tapped their foot to the beat of a sweet country melody drifting through the speakers, trying to drag out the time, as she sat in the driveway of her parents' house. 
She had a decent relationship with their parents, just wasn't overly excited to see them after a long and tiring day of work. After running out of things to keep themselves occupied while sitting in the driveway of her parents' house, Emie made their way out of the truck, slamming the door behind them. As soon as Emie was at the front steps of the house, the door was opened by her mother, greeting her with a wide grin. 
"Aunt Mary had the baby!" Emies mother shouted excitedly. "You're finally an uncle!" 
"Aunt, mom," Emie corrected, internalizing her sigh. 
"Oh, I'm sorry honey," their mom apologized. "You know, I've just been so used to calling you 'he' for the past sixteen years. You know I'm trying." 
Emie's father came up behind their mother, a smile revealing all the smile lines around his eyes. "Did you hear the good news? You're now an unc—aunt!"
"Yeah, dad," Emie replied, internally smiling at his automatic correction. "Mom told me."
"Come, come," her mother called, grabbing her and dragging them inside. "We've got to bring the blanket I've been working on! Oh, I'm sure Mary will love it!" she paused for a moment, finally letting go of Emie's wrist. "Go upstairs and fetch that...thing...you made for the baby. We'll meet you in the car."
Emie did as they were told and made their way up the rickety old stairs towards her room. The pictures that covered the stairwell had always made Emie cringe, and not just because of how young they were. Dysphoria was also a battle for them. It had taken a long time for her to realize that she was transgender, and even longer to tell their parents. However, none of the pictures on the wall would ever be taken down; Emie knew that for a fact. 
Finally turning the corner at the top of the stairs, Emie walked into her room. Their parents had tried really hard to make them comfortable, even going as far to repaint the old gray walls bright pink, and her mother had even painted tiny butterflies everywhere. It was stereotypical, yes, but sometimes that helped Emie's dysphoria the most. Walking over to the pearly white dresser, Emie snatched the silver-wrapped parcel, only to catch a glimpse of themself in their mirror. 
Immediate uncomfort struck her, so much so that they almost fell backward. Boy. He. Her mind said to her. Masculine. It took all of Emie's strength not to curl up into a ball and sob. No. That's not true. She fought back. I am Emie. I am female. I am she. I am they. I always have been and always will be. Though the feeling didn't disappear, Emie found it to lessen just enough to allow them to leave the room, the package still clutched tightly in her grasp.