The Greatest Lie Part 5

Most of my classmates celebrated the first Saturday after the beginning of classes in hedonistic leisure, nursing hangovers and playing Frisbee on the Quad. But I spent the morning plotting my escape from this dangerous, macho dormitory, studying want ads and making appointments to look at studios on Hennepin to use for my independent study on "Behaviors of Transgendered Sex Workers". I made three appointments, identifying myself as Alexandra; after all, I would be occupying the apartment as a female tenant. I showered and changed in Professor Finch's bathroom, gleefully anticipating the impressions we would make on my prospective landlord: Finch, the cheating middle aged man arranging a love nest for a girlfriend young enough to be his daughter. If only they knew: the truth was so much more scandalous. In keeping with the love nest scenario, I dressed and made myself up in the waif fashion. The months on heavy hormones, light diet and inadequate sleep made this look a natural for me.

Finch eyed me with astounded appreciation as I exited the bathroom. "Wow", he said, "You look like you walked right out of a fashion magazine." "Thanks," I said. "May I make a phone call?" He handed me the phone eagerly and hovered, his eyes greedily taking me in.

I called the phone number the police detective had given me to inquire about the disposition of poor Daylene's remains. "What's the date of death and name of deceased?" droned the bored bureaucrat. I replied and there was a long pause, with a desultory shuffling of papers. Finally, the bureaucrat recited "Case Number 9063, African American Male, John Doe burial September 15." Bitter tears of rage and regret filled my eyes. "You were supposed to notify me, and give me a chance to take possession of her remains. Detective Keyes promised me that." More papers shuffled. "The investigating officers canceled secondary notification. After the next of kin declined, we were directed to make a John Doe disposition."