Shawnee
By: CK1

	Sitting in the food court of the San Gabriel Mall, Sean Finnegan ate his lunch and watched the people mill by around him.  He was getting near the end of his rope, and it was becoming evident to everyone.  He felt this jealousy toward everyone, and it had already cost him all of his friends and his family.  He was alone in the world now, and contemplating the worst.

	Sean worked at the little video store at the far end of the mall, just as he had for the past ten years.  Ever since he'd left high school in the junior year.  That was a mistake, and he knew it, but there was nothing he could do about it now.  He'd made his proverbial bed, and now he had to live with it.

	Sean's anger came directly from what he perceived as a lack of intelligence.  School had never come easily to him, and it had become downright miserable during high school.  He wasn't really dumb, in a clinical sense, but objectively speaking he was not quite average.  His cousin Joe had gotten him the video store job, filling the vacancy he left when he departed for Yale.

	Getting up from lunch, Sean tossed his leftovers, tray and all, into the trash can, and started back toward the store.  To his surprise, when he got back, 'The Tape Place' was gone.  The only thing that kept him going for the past ten years had vanished.  And, in the space of 60 minutes, had been replaced by a ramshackle little store called 'Spells 'R Us!'

	"What the hell?"  Sean said, pushing the old door open.  A tiny bell rang as the angry young man stepped into the store, looking around.  An old gentleman, dressed in what appeared to be an old bathrobe, stepped out of the back with a mischievous smile.

	"Good afternoon, Sean.  I've been waiting for you . . ."  He said.  Sean walked up to the counter, ignoring all the marvelous trinkets around him, and looked the old man over.

	"What's goin' on here?  Where's the tape place?"  He said, outstretching his arms and pointing toward where the 'New Arrivals' section used to be.  The old man smiled, and patted the tall young man with the light red hair on the shoulder.

	"Your place of employment will return very soon, Sean.  Don't worry."  Sean narrowed his eyes and looked cautiously at the old man.  He wasn't the swiftest fellow in the world, but Sean knew that you didn't just move an entire store.

	"What's goin' on?"

	"I'm here for you, Sean.  To help you . . ."  The old man said, as he pulled a small box from under the counter.  Opening it, Sean saw a somewhat crude wooden figurine lying on a bed of crumbled red silk.  The figure had discernible features, with it's most distinguishing attributes being the straw hair that fell down it's waist and the pair of small red jewels that passed for it's eyes.

	"What's that?"  Sean asked, looking at the strange little figure.

	"It's a totem, from a small island culture that died out many centuries ago.  It was said to grant great wisdom and intellect and was handed down from ruler to ruler to ensure that only the wisest would rule."

"It makes people smart?"  Sean asked, his interest piqued.

"Yes, Sean.  It contains very potent magic, even to this day."  The old man said with a slight smile, sliding the box next to the antique cash register.

	"Magic, huh?  There's no such thing as magic."  The old man just laughed.

	"Magic is all around you, Sean.  You just have to see it."  Pulling the small figurine from the box, the old man handed it to Sean.  "Look for it in here, Sean."

Keeping one eye on the old man, Sean picked up the strange little doll and looked at it.  He knew something was going on, but he couldn't tell what it was.  As he looked into the little red eyes of the doll, Sean's paranoia quickly fell away and was replaced by an oddly tranquil feeling.

	Slowly, the totem's eyes seemed to grow larger, while everything around him seemed to dim and shrink.  The world around him, the store and the old man faded away as the doll's crimson orbs seemed to swallow him up.  The two red circles seemed to catch fire as Sean felt an odd falling sensation.  His world was now those two blood-red eyes, with everything around him falling away.  The strange eyes seemed to stare into him, through his own eyes and into his mind, where he felt himself being probed . . . and changed.

	After what felt like an eternity, Sean heard a loud snapping noise and saw the small totem in his hands, it's eyes no more than small black slits now.  He looked up and saw the old man.

	"Are you all right, Sean?  You seemed to . . . go away for a moment."  The old man smiled as he took the doll from Sean's hands and placed it back into it's resting place.

	"Uh, yeah.  I think so."  Sean looked around, regaining his bearings.  He was in that weird new store and he'd been looking at the doll.  That doll that was supposed to make people smart.  Shaking his head, he backed away from counter.

	"I suppose our business is concluded, Mr. Finnegan.  Have a nice life, Sean."  Sean nodded quickly and, on slightly unsteady legs, ran from the store and headed home.  He wasn't feeling quite right.

	That night, Sean's dreams were bizarre cacophonies of images and sounds and scents and sensations.  They weren't nightmares, in the classic sense, but he felt like he'd drown in his own mind.  More than once, Sean was forced to wake up, sweat covering his body.  At 1:13, Sean slowly walked into the bathroom and rested his tired head on the wall as he relieved himself.  Passing by the mirror, he stopped for a moment.

	"Hmmmm, need to get a haircut . . ."  He thought to himself, brushing a few stray strands of copper red hair out of his eyes.  He'd just gotten his haircut a few days ago, but it seemed even longer than before.  Not only that, but it felt different.  Thicker, maybe?

	Returning to bed, the dreams didn't stop.  Images flew in and out of his mind in seconds, while he heard sounds, songs, speeches and silences of which he could only consciously catch fragments.  He woke up again, twenty minutes later, breathing heavily.

	Sean fell out of bed for the last time around 11:00 am.

	Standing up, everything seemed bigger.  And, he had this strange feeling all over his body.  His proportions felt wrong, and there was all this hair in his face!  Brushing the copper strands away, he found himself face to face with the full-length mirror bolted to the back of his bedroom door.

	"Oh my . . ." Sean's jaw dropped as he saw himself.  The six-foot, three-inch man with the short red hair and well-defined muscles was gone, replaced by a slender, but voluptuous redhead.  Running his hands over his face, he took in the Irish lass staring back at him.

	"I'm a woman.  A very beautiful woman.  A . . . magnificent specimen of the fairer sex."  He said in soft, measured tones.  Brushing back his shoulder-length hair, he unbuttoned his pajama top, revealing his ample bosom and curvy abdomen.  Large, full breasts tipped with wide pink nipples led to a perfectly tapered belly and wide sexy hips.  Pulling off the rest of his nightclothes, Sean saw the copper-colored bush between his long, lissome legs that made up almost half of his height now.  He was now, easily, the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on.

	"This is not possible!  I was a man twelve hours ago.  Metamorphoses of this complexity are simply not viable during such a short period."  Sean said to himself, scarcely aware of his newly expanded vocabulary.

As he scanned the room, Sean realized that everything seemed so . . . easy to him now.  The relationships between things appeared to him with ease.  How the remote commanded the television, how the television received signals from the cable, how the electronic and magnetic signals were one unified force in a greater spectrum, how everything worked.  Things that he'd never even though of before, Sean felt he could understand it all . . . 

	"I am smart . . . no, I am brilliant!"  She said, her full lips turning into a satisfied grin.  The old man was right, that doll really had made him smarter.  But, it had also turned him into a woman.  A very sexy woman.	

	"That old gentlemen with the talisman.  I must find him!"

	Quickly ditching his pajamas for a loose fitting sweatsuit, Sean returned to the mall and found the store right where he remembered it.  The wrong store; however.  In the area where it had been for the past twelve years, Sean Finnegan found his place of employment, "The Tape Place."  Sticking his head inside the just-opened store, Sean's boss, Mike Howard, smiled.

	"Good morning, Miss.  Is there any particular selection you are looking for?"

	"Mike, it's me . . . it's . . . uh, sorry.  How foolish of me.  You could not possibly recognize me now, could you?"  Sean chuckled softly to himself as Mike got a very puzzled look on his face.

	"I'm sorry, Mike.  I was looking for something, but I do not believe I will find it again."  As Sean turned to leave, Mike called out.

	"Wait a minute, Miss."  Mike disappeared behind the counter and came up with a small box.  Sean recognized it as the lost-and-found box.  Inside was a small tan billfold with the initials 'SGF.'

	"Is this what you lost?  Some old guy brought it in last night and said that a really hot redhead had lost it.  You're the only really hot redhead I've seen around here . . ."  Mike said with a smile, unknowingly handing the billfold to his former employee.

Sean opened the billfold and found all the cards a young woman would need.  Credit cards, Social Security card, Driver's License, everything she'd need to survive.  On her driver's license, which she'd never had as a male, the name "Shawnee Gwynivere Finnegan" now appeared, next to a picture of his new female self.  She was 5'8", weighed a svelte 121 lbs and was twenty-one years old today.

	"My name is Shawnee?"  The former man asked, giggling.  He quickly understood that not only did that give him some link to his past, but it also grounded him.  While he now had an awe-inspiring intellect, his new name would best fit a mallrat or stripper.  It should keep him from getting to full of himself.

	Thanking Mike, Shawnee walked out of the store and proceeded to go on a shopping spree.  As she got everything she'd need for her new life, she found that she was gaining new knowledge with each passing second.  She could feel herself learning, spontaneously developing new ideas on any subject that sprang to mind.  Philosophy, science, architecture . . . nothing was beyond her grasp now.

	After nearly two hours of shopping, Shawnee stepped out with a completely new wardrobe.  She'd gladly traded her sweat suit for a green miniskirt, a light green halter and a pair of open-toed stilettos.  Hauling her packages to the Food Court, Shawnee's new body began telling her it was time to eat.

	Sitting in the food court, Sean weighed the options over a plate of "Chicken Little's" Caesar Salad.  He . . . no, she, had gained intelligence and wisdom, not to mention beauty.  At what cost?  Her manhood?  That hardly seemed to be an issue to her now.  It was a more than fair trade.  It was far better to be smart and female, than to be dumb and male.

	Two tables down, Shawnee heard two men arguing about 'gravitons' and 'strings.'  She looked up and saw the pair working over lunch, both scrawling into a notebook and tapping away on large calculators.  The type of calculators that can graph and work complex equations.  Curious, the buxom young woman walked over and, nonchalantly, stared over the older man's shoulder.

	It took a few moments, but the younger man's attention was torn away from the work by Shawnee's physique.  The older man, with grayish balding hair, turned around and asked if she would excuse them.

	"We're quite busy, miss.  I don't mean to be rude, but . . . you are distracting my young colleague here."  Shawnee nodded, adding that she could see the problem.

	"You can?"  The older man said with a laugh.  "And what would that be?"

	Shawnee stared at the open notebook for only a moment, before grabbing a pen from one of the professor's pockets and scribbling in the margins next to the equations.  She looked over at the older, balding professor as she worked.

	"It's not surprising that this has given you such difficulty.  The solution is elusive, unless you bring these four equations together."  She flipped a few pages back, to verify the third set of equations before returning to the final page.

"You see, by canceling these natural logs and thus eliminating the need for this entire subset, the twin infinities which, I'm assuming, have plagued your work simply . . . and logically . . . fall away."

	She turned around, a small smiley-face over top of the completed equation.  The older professor scoffed at first, but upon closer inspection, discovered that this young woman had indeed solved the problem.  She'd also, if his guess was correct, made headway into explaining the gravitational constant as it related to quantum mechanics!

	"Young lady . . . I . . . I can't believe it.  Donald, look at this."  Dr. Winthrop almost screamed, calling the younger professor over to check her calculations.

"I see it, Harlan!"

The two men of science looked like small children who'd just been given that bike that they'd worked so hard to get.  Shawnee sat down next to the pair, explaining some of the mathematical systems she'd employed, and how she'd simply done the quaternion computations in her head in order to fit the completed equation into the margins.

	"What . . . who are you?"  Donald Monroe, pH. D. in theoretical physics, asked.  Shawnee extended her perfectly manicured hand and smiled.

	"My name is Shawnee.  Shawnee Finnegan."  Shawnee said with a confidence that Sean had never had.  Donald wasn't sure what to admire first.  The brain that could do transfinite mathematics without a computer, or the absolutely smoldering body that was wrapped around it.

	"Miss Finnegan, are you a student at the university?"  The older doctor asked, his eyes still transfixed on the notebook.  Shawnee shook her head and smiled, telling them that she'd never gone to college.  Donald Monroe and Dr. Harlan Detrovich stared at each other in disbelief.

Seventeen weeks later:

	Dr. Donald Monroe stood proudly before his colleagues in the Wilder Tech faculty.

	"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my very, VERY great pleasure to introduce to you the newest member of the Wilder Tech faculty, and the first person, I know of, to go from a high school dropout to a pH. D. thesis in Physics in just under twelve weeks.  Doctor Shawnee Gwynivere Finnegan."

	The ballroom erupted in applause as the young woman walked to the podium.  Her lustrous red hair was tied into a ponytail, falling to the middle of her back.  She was dressed in a conservative deep-green suit and stiletto-heeled pumps, giving her a mix of respectability and wanton sexuality.  Taking the lectern from her teacher, colleague and lover, Shawnee blushed and began to speak very eloquently about her short time at the college.

	Donald sat at the table, smiling up at the young woman who'd blown into his life only four months before.  It hardly seemed real, but, as impossible as she seemed, she was.  Not only was she now a doctor of Physics, but she was also a few weeks shy of completing a pH. D. Thesis in both Philosophy and English Literature.  It was good to be well rounded, she'd told him.  And, as his eyes scanned the curvy body which he'd touched, and loved, so many times, he knew she was right in more ways than even she knew.

(END)