This choice: It's Norma Kowalski, Brandon Walsh's Grandma. • Go Back...Chapter #7It's Norma Kowalski, Brandon Walsh's Grandma. by: Wassel   ...A woman you'd never seen before. An older woman. In her late sixties, with graying brown hair that was tied back into a messy bun. Possessing a pleasant, if somewhat Grandmotherly looking face, with a pair of dark rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose. Clad in a flowery blue and white dress. Which again, reminded you somewhat of your own Grandmother. The only notable exception to this being her rather hefty chest. Pushing out prominently from the rest of her somewhat matronly figure. Your immediate thought on seeing her standing there being, Jesus! Is... Is this who Randall's living with now? This old lady? Having had no idea what you'd expected when the door opened, but it certainly wasn't this. Being left slightly stunned as she looked at you with her hazel colored eyes and smiled.
"Hello. And what can I do for you, young man?"
"I... Uh... I..." you stuttered. Not quite knowing how to respond. Where you just supposed to come right out and say that you were looking for Randall? What with him being in deep cover after all.
Not that it mattered. This woman instead jumping to her own conclusion. "You must be one of Brandon's friends."
Leading you to question, Brandon? Having just had a run-in with a Brandon a few hours earlier and thinking it an odd coincidence. Though surely she doesn't mean him?
"He has so many that sometimes it's hard for me to keep track," she continued, before beckoning you inside the door. "Please, come on in."
Again, you weren't quite sure what to do. Wondering where the hell your best friend was and why he hadn't answered the door and saved you this confusion.
Seeing this hesitation, the old lady chuckled, "It's alright. I won't bite." Beckoning you inside the house once more.
Telling yourself, Well this is definitely the right house. So I... I guess I'd better. Assuming that Randall had to be in there somewhere.
Following her lead then and stepping inside the landing. Getting even more of a Grandmotherly vibe once you had. The decor reminding you very much of visiting your own Grandparents. Which again, wasn't the kind of place you'd expected Randall to be. But then again, you hadn't expected him to be alive either.
"Just though here, dear," you were directed. Turning a corner into the front room. "Brandon shouldn't be long. You can take a seat while you wait..."
"Uh... Tim," you told her. Realizing that you hadn't actually introduced yourself. "My names Tim." Nor had she introduced herself to you. All you knew is that someone called Brandon lived here and she'd assumed you'd come to see him. Though I guess that's what Randall might be calling himself now. He might be this Brandon guy.
"Can I get you anything to drink, Tim?"
"Uhm... Shu-sure," you answered. Figuring it would at least get her out the way while you attempted to discover who exactly she was, and by proxy, who Randall was. Fishing for her own name then as you added, "Mrs..."
Not exactly getting the answer you'd been hoping for as she smiled, "Oh please, call me Norma." Which didn't really help much at all.
What did help however was, after the kindly old lady disappeared into the kitchen to get you a soda, the series of pictures you spotted on the wall. Family photos. Almost immediately springing up off of the floral couch and making a bee-line straight towards them. Your eyes going wide as soon as the faces in the photos came into view. No... freaking... WAY! There was Norma smiling away, sat right next to the very asshole who'd been making fun of you at school. It not just being a Brandon, it was THAT Brandon. Brandon Walsh. And there beside his stupid-ass face was his mom. Who was head of the high school Booster Club. Having seen her at various events and things. Being one of those go-getter type mom's who clearly had a lot of free time on her hands. And next to her, a man who was presumably her husband and Brandon's dad. It becoming rather obvious to you now, due to the clear similarity between Mrs. Walsh and Norma, that she had to be her mom. Thereby making her Brandon's grandma. Which was a mind-fuck second to none. What the hell is going on?
Randall can't be Brandon, can he? He... He wouldn't treat me the way he has been, surely. Not even to keep in character. This throwing your previous hypothesis straight out the window. But if he's not Brandon and he told me to come to this address at this time then that means that... that...
A voice from behind suddenly asking you, "You figured it out yet, dude?"
Turning and seeing Norma standing there with your drink in hand and a big grin plastered across her face. The kind of grin that your best friend wore a lot. ...Oh my God!
"Yuh-you... You're Randall!?" you squeaked. This being the only possibility left that made any kind of sense. That this friendly grandmotherly woman in front of you was actually your best friend. A realization that made you feel beyond lightheaded all of a sudden. No way!
"Got it in one, Timmy-boy," she... Correction, HE replied. "I told you I wasn't me anymore. That I was someone else. Well... Ta da!" Placing your drink down on the coffee table and throwing up his arms. "Here I am. Norma Kowalski. Brandon 'the asshat himself' s Grandma! Pretty fucked up, huh?"
"Fucked up" being beyond an understatement. This was the most trippy, bizarre and utterly surreal thing you'd ever had to try get your head around. Stumbling backwards onto a nearby armchair. Definitely needing to sit down after this bombshell. That your once goofy, red-headed friend was now this seemingly pleasant and benign Grandmother. The Grandmother of the most popular and most dickish guy in your entire school. That he himself had hated with a passion for years. It being so unbelievably insane and not all what you'd been preparing yourself. Having pictured him still being a dude at least. Not some woman who was like four times your age. Old enough to be your Grandmother as well!
"I know I probably should have told you right away," he admitted with a chuckle, "but when I saw you at the door I just... I just couldn't help myself. Wanted to see how long I could fool you for." Which was definitely in line with the friend you knew. It was just everything else that wasn't. From his face, his voice, even the color of his eyes.
"Dude... This is... I... I don't even know what to say," you told him. Naturally having about a million and one questions, but right now you had no idea where to even start.
To which he responded, "Yeah. I kind of had the same reaction when I first found out. But... as you can see, I kind of got used to it. There's no going back now."
Randall taking a seat then and proceeding to explain fully how exactly he'd wound up here, inside Norma Kowalski's body. It apparently having been her that had suffered the brain aneurysm that he'd previously mentioned. Making her the only viable donor that the doctors were able to find for their crazy brain transplant procedure. And the only means of keeping him alive. Even though it did mean changing him into a girl and severely shortening his lifespan.
"...Which totally sucks. I've gone from being sixteen to sixty-seven. Not to mention who I'm related too. Who I have to pretend I actually like so that nobody finds out what really happened to Norma."
"You mean... They don't know either?" you yelped. "Brandon... His mom... His Dad? None of them do?" Even though, in retrospect, it was pretty obvious that the former definitely did not. Otherwise he wouldn't have been saying all the shit to you in school. Still, none of them knowing... that seemed impossible surely.
Apparently it was not. Randall exclaiming wholeheartedly, "Fuck no! They think that Norma had a funny turn a few months back and needed to be kept in hospital overnight just to be on the safe side. They have no idea who I really am. The doctors said that the fewer people that knew the better. Otherwise they could end up in prison and I'd end up in a lab somewhere being experimented on. Better this than that."
"Yeah," you nodded. "I... I guess so." Even though, from your point of view, it didn't seem quite so cut and dry. Being glad of course that he was here, but still super freaked out by the manner in which he was.
"I wasn't even supposed to tell you. As much as I wanted to. I just... I was at Brandon's house yesterday and I saw his Xbox, and I had this sudden urge to log onto my account. For nostalgia sake if nothing else." This explaining why he wasn't able to talk with you for long. "I honestly didn't think anyone else would be on. That I'd be able to log on and off unseen." Adding with a smile, "So much for that idea."
"Well I'm glad you did, dude." Your position on this having most definitely not changed. "I just... This is a hell of a lot to take in is all."
Your best friend agreeing. "Tell me about it."
"Have you seriously been pretending to be Brandon's grandma for the last three months?"
The thought of this being somewhat preposterous. That he'd actually be able to keep up that act. Not to mention function as an old woman in public and around people she knew. The fact that he was sitting there in a dress and a pair of feminine looking sandals, with his hair tied up and a touch of makeup on his now elderly, female face being hard enough to believe as it was. For you at least. Randall having admittedly always been desperate to get into a girl's panties (just the same as you were), but definitely not like this. Not as one himself.
His answer to your question being, "Yeah. Pretty much."
"But...I mean... How?" you asked him. Not having the first clue how this was even possible. How he'd been able to slot right into someone else's life.
Randall telling you then...
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