“That costume must have taken a long time to perfect, Hon. We all thought you were a middle-aged guy. Now that I look at you close … are you seeing anyone exclusively? My younger brother just graduated high school and I think you’d like him.”
~~ Does she think I’m GAY! And a recent high school grad?~~ I screamed in my mind until I saw myself in a large mirror on the wall of the woman’s locker-room where she’d led me as she’d spoken. I’d was about to protest I was *not that way* when I saw myself, truly saw myself in that huge mirror, I fainted.
Past Imperfect
This is my third entry in Bob’s Stardust first anniversary contest. No, really it is. Yes I know *that* other one was magic based and didn’t fit the rules but then my muse is a real bitch sometimes, you know? Any who, this is a piece of pure escapist fiction and in no way is intended to represent anyone living or dead. It’s just for fun so like chill out, *K*? Have I ever told you my muse tends towards being a giggly and jiggly blonde b_i_m_b_o?
“John, did you say something mean about me?” — sniffle! — “Do you want to see my new bikini? I’ll just take off …”
I need a new muse or lots of cold showers. Oh, all rights reserved in perpetuity or until the end of time, whichever is longer by John in Wauwatosa 2007.
Adult content warning -- there may or may not be aspects of my story unsuitable for those not of legal age and those of a sensitive nature. You have been warned, I think. Great, now I have to come up with something salacious to justify this disclaimer.
Past Imperfect
By John in Wauwatosa
Editorial assistance and proofing by the usual bunch of idiots, oops that’s MAD Magazine’s line. My editor/proofers are a sturdy and sane lot or were until they met me. Please send your condolences to my editor/proffers Holly Logan, Karen_J, Janet Nolan and Itinerant as they are in dire need of rehab as a result of reading this.
* * * *
"Mr. Stewart, Mr. William Allen Stewart? This is Simon Westfield; I represent the law firm of Cohen, Schmidt and Osaka in the matter of your late great grandmother, Judith Stewart. Would you please come to our offices, it’s a matter of great importance to you, sir. It took a great deal of effort on our part to locate you. When would be a convenient time?”
I’d heard of the firm. It had been significant legal office one hundred years ago and had grown steadily over the years. Cohen, Schmidt and Osaka was housed in an old and ornate office building in downtown Milwaukee. We agreed to a time and he gave me directions to his office.
* * * *
Good day Mr. Stewart. I’m Simon, we spoke on the phone? What do you remember of your great grandmother Judith?”
“Um, sure, I think great grandmother’s name was Judith. It must be 40 years since she died.” Cohen, Schmidt and Osaka was housed in an old and ornate office building in downtown Milwaukee.
“38 years, six months and seven days but who’s counting? Your great grandmother placed an unusual bequest in her will that prevented our revealing its nature until now. Do you remember much about her?”
“I was in grade school when she died. She seemed a nice old lady but she was so very old when we met and I was full of energy and curiosity. I did try to be polite though. She wore a pretty pendant around her neck. She showed it to me once and looked at me strangely after. Sorry, I don’t remember much more.”
“Mrs. Stewart remembered you, Mr. Stewart. I never met her, but my predecessor’s notes attached to the will suggest she formed a strong opinion about you. Mrs. Stewart instructed us to read this letter out loud so you might better understand. May I?”
I nodded my assent.
“My dearest great grandson, I write this knowing I will be long gone when you hear these words but I am confident you will hear them. The enclosed package includes a short but detailed letter explaining why I am entrusting this responsibility to you and the actual device. If you approach this with the open-minded enthusiasm of your youth you will succeed.
With all my love, your great granny Stewart.
“My instructions are to leave the room. You are to secure the door so that no one may enter, including myself. After all is secure you are to open the package and read everything.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No, other than a something about a specific phrase to be carved on her grave marker and to remind you to follow her instructions like the good child you were.”
“Weird.”
* * * *
He left the room and I honored the old lady’s request; she had been 95 when she died. The box was sealed in multiple layers of foil, plastic, waxed paper and what had to be at least one layer of sheet lead. The box was very heavy until I got that off. When I finally got to the inner box I broke the seal. A thick cloud of dust sprayed straight at my face as if directed at me deliberately. I involuntarily inhaled the particles deep into my lungs in my surprise yet when the cough instinct kicked in, I couldn’t, despite a desperate urge to do so.
It was as if I was under remote control. I felt a combination of numbness and a tingling pop up in various parts of my body. I remember putting a pendant around my neck, a ring on my right middle finger and matching bracelets on each wrist. I felt no panic just a dissociation from what was happening, and I nodded off for a while.
I woke to a pounding on the office door. “Are you okay in there, Mr. Stewart? It’s been over two hours, and you haven’t answered us.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “In fact, I feel great.” ~~~Why did I say that? I do feel fit, but what was all that before I passed out? That was not normal.~~ “I’ll be done in ten minutes, sorry. I’m afraid I didn’t sleep well last night and I nodded off.”
I read the letter containing the instructions and checked for other contents, there were none. Then I found another letter stuck to the inside of the lead foil.
“Billy, I waited to give this gift to you until you were middle—aged and had experienced considerable life as a child and man. If you have a family, I’m sorry; this will be difficult. If you are single, that is for the best. You will have a family some day, I am certain. For now they would be a complication. The jewelry I compelled you wear is a part of you now. I’m sorry I had to do that but there was no other way, dear. You may take the jewelry off but I advise you wear it most of the time. The dust you inhaled is something I don’t understand but its effect will be to your benefit. It will transform your very being in preparation for a great undertaking. Be brave and be the honest, funny, curious child I knew. That will serve you well.
“The bracelets, ring and pendant were given to me when I was a scrawny little girl of ten, in the summer of 1885. I was playing alone by the lake where no one could see me when this young woman appeared out of nowhere. She could not have been more than fifteen or sixteen — in the full flush of her emerging womanhood, but yet a child. I was mesmerized by her attractive appearance; I thought I was seeing an angel. She said that she was from the future. She came from a time when people lived very long and healthy lives and where many miracles of science had improved the lot of mankind. There was a problem and only I could help.
“Judy, dear. I may call you that?”
“I was a good child and gave her my approval.”
“A few people don’t like the future. They think life is too easy and we need conflict and pain to advance. They are misinformed. There is much to keep mankind expanding and reaching outward — our exploration of the heavens is but one -- but they don’t understand. A small but dangerous group stole a time travel device much like the one that got me here. They are trying to kill the woman who made our peaceful future possible. They want to make sure she is never born and so can never influence the future. The woman is your descendant. One of your great grand children will be her progenitor. That means her parent or creator, Judy, but your a smart girl and probably knew that."
"The pretty lady smiled at me, and I knew I could trust her. She treated me like an equal and not a little girl. I felt so grown up."
“From now until you are an old woman, you may use these apparent pieces of jewelry for your protection. They are part of a sophisticated time travel device keyed specifically to your descendant’s DNA — the chemical *instruction manual* that makes each human unique.
“The time travel will not work for you except in the limited fashion of the protective features. When in danger, bang the bracelets together lightly and you will hop forward in time a few minutes and be displaced, that means moved, up to several hundred yards from where you started. The device will make sure of a safe landing. This way you can escape any hazard.
“The pendant will recognize the next rightful owner of these devices. You will know when this happens. Before your death, place the jewelry in this special box and seal it well in multiple layers of airtight materials. You are to use a trusted law firm to deliver this box to the rightful owner the pendant identifies. The law firm must be instructed not to tell anyone, but to deliver the box to the new *owner* upon his or her reaching at least 45 years of age.
“I put the jewelry on as she said. It looked much too big but fit me perfectly. I’d contracted polio at four. It was a mild case but one leg had always been weak and hard to move. And I’d suffered a burn trying to learn to cook that left an unsightly scar on my left forearm.”
“I nearly forgot, Judy, a thank you for what you are doing.” She got out a small object and sprayed something in my mouth. I felt compelled to breathe it in. “You will feel odd for a little while but fine soon after. Do not be surprised what happens over the next few days. Good luck, and bless you,“ the odd girl said and left as if a will-o-the-wisp.
“I walked home feeling very tired, and my injured leg and arm tingled. In less than a week’s time my limp was gone, my burn scars had vanished and my overall health and vitality improved remarkably. From being the weakest and youngest looking girl in the township, I quickly outstripped my peers. By 14 I was being courted by boys as old as 19, and by 16 I was the most beautiful girl in the county. I won a contest at the Racine County Fair that year. Several times in my life I am certain the jewelry saved my life or helped me to save the lives of others.
“I have lived a long and healthy life and only of late has my strength left me. My decline coincided with the first time I saw you and held your tiny hand in mine. I felt a burning sensation from the pendant and knew I would die in a few years. I knew you were the next rightful owner of the jewelry from the future. Every time I see you the jewelry *informs* me of what I must do with it and the box and what I must write. I don't have many months left so I am doing this while I am still able. I know not your future, but I was told your daughter will help bring peace and prosperity to the World. I wish I could see it.
“Love, Judith.”
* * * *
I hid the pendent under my shirt and covered the bracelets with my sleeves. The ring was gender-neutral and I could live with that. I thanked the lawyer and left, not giving in to the temptation to satisfy their curiosity.
Headed for home, I was passing through a neighborhood with a well-deserved reputation for violent crime. Suddenly I heard a gunshot and a scream and saw a wounded young woman stumble out of a house. Moments later an incoherent man came out of the house, shouting and clumsily reloading a small handgun.
I felt that odd tingling and an overwhelming urge to help the woman. I was outraged at his utter disregard for a person’s life. I stopped my car, pulled the keys out of the ignition and ran to the victim. It took but seconds. I realized I was moving with unnatural speed and agility but it made sense to me. It was as if I had been born to do this. I had this feeling that I was becoming complete.
As I reached the woman, I saw the muzzle flash of the man’s gun.
Then … we were elsewhere.
One moment we had been at the mercy of the armed man, and the next we were a mile away in a police station filing a complaint about the shooter to the total wide-eyed amazement of the officers present. We’d popped into the middle of the station in clear view of a dozen officers. That did seem to get their attention.
The police were interested in what I had done and how I had done it, but did not press me on it. It may have been some effect of the strange jewelry I was wearing. It maybe was the thought, ‘If he can materialize out of nowhere, he might just be able to vaporize anyone who tries to hold him against his will.’ Plus, I’d done them a favor, as the man who had shot at us was a suspect in several shootings and the woman’s testimony would nail his coffin shut.
* * * *
I soon got a reputation with the police of being their unpaid helper. I was a regular trouble-magnet but a successful one. After a few incidents like this I noticed I’d lost weight, a lot of it! I went from 235 down to 200 pounds and felt the best I had in years. At first this had a great but embarrassing side effect, my sex drive returned to where it had been as a teenager and William Jr. was *very demanding.*
I got concerned when after a few more uses of the device, junior refused to *come-out-to-play*. This was despite my *best* efforts and some first-class visual aids courtesy of a well-known men’s publication. I was so concerned about my *best friend* I ignored that I had to add several new holes to make my belt small enough. I’d assumed all my *hero* antics had been burning up lots of calories or so I’d convinced myself. I stopped weighing myself when I got down to 180 pounds, “a good weight for my height,” I rationalized. The weight kept dropping but I ignored it. Then there was the issue of my pants, shirts, shoes — well everything not fitting right. They were suddenly too long, loose in places and tight in others.
*Junior* continued to *sulk*. One morning I woke to discover *he* and his *two sidekicks*had gone into hiding. I felt that odd tingling sensation all over my body, most intensely in my lower abdomen. It was like a bad itch I couldn’t scratch. To add to my annoyance, all that running around helping the police had somehow chafed my nipples as they were sore and puffy. I called my doctor for a long overdue appointment. I almost panicked when after a couple more stints as the *mysterious crime-fighter* a female officer said something very curious.
“That costume must have taken a long time to perfect, Hon. We all thought you were a middle-aged guy. Now that I look at you close … are you seeing anyone exclusively? My younger brother just graduated high school and I think you’d like him.”
~~ Does she think I’m GAY! And a recent high school grad?~~ I screamed in my mind until I saw myself in a large mirror on the wall of the woman’s locker-room where she’d led me as she’d spoken. I’d was about to protest I was *not that way* when I saw myself, truly saw myself in that huge mirror, I fainted.
* * * *
I have vague memories of people calling for help, my being carefully moved by fuzzy blobs in uniforms, and the sound of a woman crying. That last one confused me, as I had an inkling I was that woman. I woke in a dark hospital room, it had to be. It sure looked like one. The door to my room was closed and I saw a man approach my bed. I didn’t know him but I took an instant dislike to him. A sense of outrage surged up, but I could barely move. The man grabbed a pillow and seemed about to smother me, then he started laughing and put it down.
“I’m so sorry but I couldn’t resist testing you. That look was precious, Miss Stewart. That’s right, you are 100% woman now; we made sure you are woman-plus. Your friends in the future thought by hiding your daughter’s prototype time/space displacement device in the past we wouldn’t find it. They feared we’d make copies and use them to stop her from making Earth into a *paradise*. I had that propaganda drilled into my head as a child but I rejected the lies. Your daughter’s dupes all believe the same tripe, but then much of it is true.
“There is no disease that hasn’t been cured. There is work for all, much of it the restoration of the great rainforests and the oceans. Your daughter’s funding of facilities has restored the minds of the mentally ill and the bodies of the crippled quickly and completely. And there is your daughter’s worst abomination, giving the ability for those perverted deviants, the so—called transgendered, to become the sex they believe they should be, complete and with all the correct reproductive bits.
“She would have doomed humanity. Without the *survival of the fittest* we will stagnate, and our genes be corrupted by these weaklings and sexual abnormalities. We are fighting back. We tampered with the prototype. The organo-nanite viral spray that enables one to control the device instinctively via mental commands was contaminated. Oh, once I return to the future we will find a way to neutralize your time/space displacement device. As it is, there are but three in existence, mine, the one your friend used to travel to the 1880’s and yours. The non-birth of your daughter won’t change a thing. Time-travel distortion does not work that way.
“We introduced the necessary nanite and virus mix to make you into a female, an exceptionally attractive female. You’re a teenage girl and no one will ever believe your wild story of receiving a time travel device from the future as a bequest in an ancestor’s will. Oh, your friends were clever, and destroyed most of the records, but as William you must have had a May-December romance and fathered a daughter on your 57th birthday. *Kat*-- can you believe that nickname? -- would have been the *great woman*, the *savior of humankind.* No way will that happen now. This is better than emasculating you. We’ve killed your precious *Kat* and there isn’t a thing you can do about it, Daddy.” He laughed as I cried for my lost daughter.
“We may have hated your child, but we do not hate you, child,“ he said and grinned in a way that made my stomach churn. “We did not tamper with the nanite instructions or the viruses that will enhance your longevity and health. We augmented them, in fact. You will have enhanced strength, speed, agility, and longevity. We did this so you may *reap the harvest* of your defeat. We cannot be certain but you will age little, if at all, over time. You will remain fertile and attractive for several centuries, perhaps for far longer. You will see OUR world, OUR vision unfold and be unable to do a thing. Your daughter’s precious TG’s will learn the folly of their ways. The weak will make way for the strong; the imperfect will be expunged. Someday, when we have come to power and our enemies are no more, I’ll look you up and give you a good fuck. You are quite an attractive teenager. And you will have all the time necessary to enjoy it, every bit of it, bitch!” he said and vanished into time.
“One people, one land, one leader,’ Adolph Hitler,” I said and sobbed.
* * * *
I felt better the next day and they discharged me. I had no ID but I’d done the police many favors so they pulled some strings and I officially became Kathleen Anne Stewart. I had a State of Wisconsin ID, as I was *legally* too young to drive. I was now *legally* fifteen years old, my birthday was the third of July 1992 and I was so cute. I was five feet, seven inches, a redhead, with sexy gray eyes and a nice figure. I had to admit I was a pretty girl, even my state ID photo looked hot. Whatever else they had done, the creeps had given me a fine woman’s body, albeit a jailbait one. I was determined not to let these jerks ruin my daughter’s beautiful future.
The nice policewoman who’d tried to set me up on a date took me in after I could not prove who I used to be and lost everything. The police assumed I was a child genius and had fled an abusive home. I sure acted like I had PTSD on leaving the hospital. Holly, that’s the officer’s name, was patient and loving and treated me well. I became her younger best friend. And she did introduce me to her brother. I was uncomfortable at first, but the body they’d given me was extremely heterosexual and I soon found myself falling for the charming young man.
* * * *
I worked hard to graduate from high school a second time and got into college with outstanding marks. Holly’s brother was a frequent study partner, as we both were interested in science and physics and in each other. At the graduation ceremony where we both got our Masters of Science in physics with honors, he proposed.
“Kathy, would you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?” he asked on bended knee. The man is so-o romantic!
“What’s in it for me? I mean you seem to get all the bennies here. I’m great looking, I may be legally 21, but the doctors all say I’m not aging normally. I still look like a fifteen-year-old and likely will for years to come. I’m witty, built and great in bed — but you know that. So what do you have to offer?” I asked giggling. I may be smart but I am very girly. I love it.
“I love you; I’ll never do anything to hurt you. We work well together professionally and I’ll provide you with a far superior nickname,” he said then kissed me until I melted in his arms.
I recovered enough to ask,” So what is wrong with Cass?”
In high school when the girls learned my initials were KAS, I became Kas which quickly evolved into Cass. I liked it. It suited me.
“I like Cass, but as Mrs. Kathleen Anne Taylor, you would be KAT or Kat. How about it? Marry me and be mine, Kat. Be my favorite kitty, Kat?”
“Kat?!” ~~ KAT?!!!!!~~
* * * *
Norway Hill Church cemetery, Racine County Wisconsin, May 17, 2248 AD
“So that’s the story of how I met my husband, great grandma Judith. I wish you were here in person to hear this, but your grave will have to do.
“We’ve been married for 236 years and though he aged some, the nanite/viral therapies my friends and colleagues developed came just in time to restore him to his youthful vigor. We love our home on Mars, where we live to be near most of our 24 children and our 112 grandchildren and their… we’re a BIG family. Mouse and I do visit Earth often and always stop by his sister’s grave. That’s one reason why we’re here now. Holly died in the line of duty two years after we married. Eventually I may use the time/space displacement device to save her if we ever figure a way to do it and not mess up the time line. That is a big concern of mine now that I’ve, well we, -- Mouse and I -- cracked the secrets of that time device I was given so long ago.
“I’m sorry, Mouse? It stands to reason, Mouse and Kat … Kat and Mouse. No sense of humor, huh? He may be a *Mouse* but he makes this *pussycat* purr.
“I have a special trip I need to make. My contacts in the ITPB — the ultra-secret International Timeline Protection Bureau, I’m the founder — discovered a successful plot to contaminate my prototype nanite/viral spray module that is kept under tight security at the lab. I was worried the bungling *Classic Humans*, or as I like to call them *Coke, ah, Humans Classic*, wouldn’t have the nerve or ability to pull it off. We left them enough clues. So I’m off to I visit *my* great great grandmother in 1885. Be seeing you soon, dear Judy.
“I agree with the epitaph on your marker. *Amateurs!*”
* * * *
The end
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