The Time Capsule Remedy.

Their home was elegant and nice. I sat at a kitchen table looking out at a five year old and a four year old playing in the living room. Two girls were having a tea party and loving it. Their mom was preparing us all lunch. And, my new employer was sitting across from me at the kitchen table telling me what my job would be.

Dr. Livingston was a gentle man with an infectious smile. He was small in stature. About five-foot-six and one hundred and twenty pounds. I looked him in the eye, as a matter of fact. And, when I did, I could see that he looked like I would if I were a man. We had the same color hair and many of the same features.

His wife was as tall as him in her stocking feet. He was young for a doctor, but, because of his Dad’s tutoring, he zoomed through medical school and became a full doctor at age twenty-six. He was accepted into a well known office in town and had quickly established a reputation for quality work and superior results. And he was hiring me, a woman, to play him for his high school reunion.

“Look, I am not asking you to do something evil or even with revenge in mind. These bigoted football jerks, I mean jocks, have an important lesson they need to learn. All I am asking is for you to help me teach them in a way that helps them to grow better, not bitter. It is a win win, not a lose lose.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “Okay, tell me why you want me to go to your high school reunion and say I am you?”

“Yes. Because, they put in the ten year time capsule that in ten years, I would come back to the reunion as a girl. It was dumb. But, that is what they did.”

“But, you are not a girl. You are a normal man with a wife, a mortgage, a job as one of the best doctors in Atlanta.” I looked back to the living room. “Plus, you have fathered two sweet and adorable kids that have a cute dog with a tea party hat on playing with them too.” I giggled at the sight. “Exactly what is this going to accomplish?” I looked to his wife and she just smiled at her husband. She was no help.

He took his wife’s hand as she came down to sit with him, and said, “You and I know that. They don’t. And, I believe I can use that to reach all of them. You have my instructions.”

“Yes, I do. I will follow them to the letter. And, I am going to trust you. You have no plans to hurt any of them or even make fun of them.”

“Yes. No plans at all. You are not to make fun of them. You are not to be mean to them. You are not even to make a play for one of them. I just want you to convince them that I really did get the operation and really became a woman. And, I want you to help them accept a female version of me.”

“And the rumor mill doesn’t bother you? I will leave there and they will be convinced you are a woman now and you are okay with that. They don’t even have to accept you as woman.”

“Precisely, it is a back water town. My family and I left there ten years ago having only spent five years there. I have no more connections there of any kind. They could think I am a mass murderer for all I care. I am not going back again ever.”

“Then why give me ten thousand dollars and pay all my expenses to pull this stupid joke on them.”

“It is not a joke. Like I said. Follow my instructions to the letter. No one will get hurt. No one will even care after this weekend. I will fade from view and they will never even suspect you pulled the wool over their eyes.”

“But, I was born a woman. I don’t know anything about being a trans … um … what do you call it?”

“Transgender, or transsexual if you will. Here is a packet of everything you need to know about me and my so called transition story. Play this role and you get ten thousand dollars. Play it well, and there is a five thousand dollar bonus for you.”

“One last thing, you are sure that when they open the time capsule, it will say that in ten years, you will be a girl.”

“Yes. Someone I know verified that is what was said about me before I left town years ago just after I graduated. I know that everyone will laugh that I actually did it and the prediction came true. The small town will go on, albeit, a little wiser.”

“I still don’t get it. But I will convince them that you actually got the operation and really made the change. The country bumpkins will learn what transgenderism is and become informed. And if I do your job well enough, they will become sympathetic to the transgender’s plight and help them, not harm them.”

“Thank you! That makes some sense to you then?” I nodded yes.

To my surprise, both of them hugged me. The surprise was that the lady of the house hugged me and gave me an encouraging smile too. She told me to break a leg and knock it out of the park. Why she would want this to work, I simply didn’t know? Why would a woman want her husband to be thought of as a woman now was beyond me?

After studying my role, I drove to Mahooney, West Virginia, at the end of the week and checked into the only hotel as Stacy Livingston. The clerk looked at me strangely. The packet the real Stacy handed me had up to date photos of everyone. I recognized the person as Lance Jones.

“Hi Lance. It really is me, Stacy.”

“Stacy? Stacy, ur’a girl now. And a right pretty one too!” He caught himself, “But, that t’aint right. Yur a guy!”

“I am sorry you feel that way, Lance. It took a lot of courage for me to make the change to become whom I really was. I was hoping you would understand since your sister, Alice, used to study with me after school. How is she doing?”

“She got married. Has three kids now. She lives in Bluefield. She won’t be here this weekend.”

The weekend devolved into more and more incidents like that. I came to find out the the town had fallen into disrepair and many had left. My employer’s father, the real Stacy’s dad, worked as a pharmatician for the old coal company during Stacy’s high school years. Back then, coal miners and their unions had incredible benefits.

Stacy and his family moved away to Georgia just after he graduated from high school. He had moved here when he was in eighth grade. The old coal mine had been shut down five years ago due to heavy government regulation and interference. Many in the town were destitute. Once prosperous families were now little more than takers of food stamps and government assistance. It was heart breaking poverty that was left in this town, not coal dust. And all these poor people who picked on my employer were hurting. I began to see why he didn’t want revenge. He just wanted to educate them and let them see that things could change for the better.

Clearly, if he wanted revenge, all he had to do was to show up as the rich doctor he was and brag about how he was the toast of Georgia’s elite. The go to doctor for making you look beautiful and desirable with his skillful scalpel. I began to realize that he was taking a path that made no sense at all, but, in a weird sort of way, did make sense.

As I walked the main street, I looked into the faces of proud people whose livelihood had been ripped from them by the government. They had been abandoned by the government too. Oh sure, they had government assistance. But how does that compare to shattered dreams and expectations. They needed hope rather than a dollar to enjoy another day of despair and want. In a weird sort of way, my transgendered character was more real to them than the truth of who Stacy actually was.

When it came to me, even though they were repelled by the notion that I was once a guy, they were fixated on the fact that I was now a woman. Or, Stacy was now a woman. Come the early afternoon, I found myself relaxing at the pool thinking about that night’s get together at the high school. As Stacy, I achieved a life long dream of becoming a girl. Believe it or not, I saw my Stacy as a beacon of hope to the people at the reunion. My head stood taller. I knew what Stacy was doing for them and I was going to do even better.

“Hey Stacy. Looking good. I like the way you fill out that bikini. Especially the flat and smooth areas.” I looked up to see who was talking to me. I recognized him from the photos Stacy gave me. It John MacDonald, one of the football players who picked on my Stacy in high school. According to the file I had, it was his hand that wrote the prediction that I would be a girl in ten years.

“Hi John. So, what do you think of the new me?”

“I like it. I always knew you would make a pretty girl. You were too wimpy and nerdy in high school to be a real man.”

“Yeah, right.” I said incredulously.

“Just wait till the end of this evening. You’ll find out how true that is.” He grinned and walked off. The file also said he was one of the main football players who picked on Stacy in high school and made his life hell there.

I noticed him cleaning the pool. According to the intelligence report from Stacy. He didn’t make much. I felt uncomfortable with him there, so I headed back to the room and changed into the really nice dress I purchased for the night. I looked nice, but not sexy. Feminine, but not sultry. I sat down and read a romance novel until it was time to go.

I arrived at the school about seven. The sun was low in the sky, but not set yet. However, in this hilly country, it was so late in the day that it was nothing more than a land of shadows with a bright blue sky doted with fluffy and billowy summer clouds. It looked like it might rain tonight too.

I walked up the steps to go into the auditorium of the high school. It had seen better days and I could see was showing lack of care. The school board must have taken a huge hit when the money ran out. There was a rumor running around that they might shut it down and bus kids to the next town in order to save money.

I walked in and Sharon, one of the women in the employer’s folder, greeted me. “And you are?”

“Stacy Livingston. Class of ‘03.” She looked at me with eyes that became wide as saucers.

“Is that really you Stacy?”

“Yes, Sharon. The same person who helped you build that float for the home coming parade.”

“Oh my, it really is you! I didn’t know. No wonder you were always so polite to me. I used to wonder why you didn’t make a move on me like the rest of the guys did. I just thought it was because you were into your books all the time.” My employer’s folder said he didn’t make moves on the girls for fear that the football players would beat him up.

“No, Sharon. Even when I was there in high school, I began to take hormone blockers and other drugs so when I left high school, I could become who I was meant to be. It is so nice to see you again.” We hugged and she put my name tag on me.

I started to mingle. I must have told my story about fifty times that night. But, more importantly, I told the story to five individuals who were listed in the folder as the football players who called my Stacy a sissy and made his high school years hell.

There was Allen Barton, Sam Johnston, Marlin Sanders, Josh Daniels, and John MacDonald, their ring leader. Of course, they were all gathered together telling old war stories about their glory days. I mingled about until I reached their circle. They were uncomfortable in seeing me. I couldn’t tell whether it was because I was a woman or because they were embarrassed with the way they treated me in high school. Maybe it was both. I don’t know.

“Hi guys.” I said in my obvious womanly voice.

I was greeted with an alternating chorus of “Hi Stacy” that sounded more like a choir singing a round than singing in harmony.

Allen broke the ice and said, “Sorry we picked on you all those years ago. We were kids who didn’t know any better.” They all started to say the same thing in one fashion or another.

I told my story, or, rather, the story the real Stacy wanted me to tell them.

I answered a ton of questions. “Did it hurt to have the surgery?”, “How long did it take you to grow boobs?”, “Are those real or implants?”, “Can you have children?”, and other questions.

I answered all their questions. In the end, they moved off to see other people. I relaxed. I passed the test. One of them remained, however. It was Marlin. I could tell he had teared up a little.

“I am glad you made it out of here, Stacy. I have been stuck in this town. I never got a chance to leave.”

“I heard something about you taking care of your sick Dad. Did he have black lung disease?”

“Yeah. He died last year. I am all alone now.”

“I am sorry to hear that. So what do you do?”

“I work for school as a janitor. I may not have the job next year. I think they are going to close this place down. Then, I don’t know what I am going to do.” He choked saying those words.

“Sorry to hear that.” I could see something else was on his mind.

“Stacy, can I tell you something.”

“What?”

“I wish I could do what you did.”

“You mean leave town?”

“No ...” He turned red and stopped.

“What, Marlin, you can tell me.” I put my hand on his arm to comfort him.

“To become a woman.” he finally confessed.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a letter. On the outside, it had three words. ‘For the one.’ I handed it to him. “Here, read this.”
Marlin looked at me strangely and opened it. He read it. After a moment, he had tears running down his face. He looked at me and said, “Thank you!”

“For what?” I asked.

“You mean, you don’t know?”

“No, I was simply told to hand that letter to the person who confessed they were just like me and I would know who the person was when her or she told me.”

“Here. You read it.” He handed me the letter.

It read ...

Dear Marlin,

The woman who handed this to you is here to help you. I spied you dressed as a girl behind the Miller barn on several occasions. I figured out that you might be transgendered.

I know you picked on me with the other guys in high school because you didn’t want anyone to find out about you. I knew it wasn’t personal. I was angry with you then. But, I knew why you did it and didn’t say anything all those years of abuse. But, now that I have been to medical school and know the truth about who you are, I have learned to forgive you and understand why you did it. I do forgive you and all the others too.

Marlin, I am a well respected plastic surgeon in Atlanta now. Here is my address. I would like to help you, if you want. If you want to become the you that you felt you were born to be, come to my office and I will get you the medical assistance you need.

I took an oath to heal the sick and not harm them. I take that seriously. You need my skills as a surgeon and my friendship. I have done several SRS surgeries already. I have gotten to know transgenders and I understand them and you much better now. I don’t want revenge. I want to help you. If you are interested, I would like to assist you to transition to who you really are.

If you would really like, please come to Atlanta with my fake Stacy. ( Her name is really Joyce, by the way ). I have a guest room. You can stay with us while we work this out. My wife, Madeline, would really like to meet you again too. And I have two lovely girls who need an aunt.

Your caring friend,

Dr. Stacy L. Livingston, M.D.

P.S. Thank you for telling me about the prediction in the time capsule.

I looked at him and realized that I had been sent there as an angel, not as a devil. “Marlin, you can believe him. He sent me here to help you. Let’s get out of here before they open the time capsule.”

I drove Marlin to Atlanta the next day to begin his, I mean, her new life.

Oh, and I got my five thousand dollar bonus. Turns out that bringing Marilyn, her girl name, with me to Atlanta was the proof of my doing an exceptional job.

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner