Wednesday September 17, 1975
Evelyn Boatman was a very old man in a young body. Because of this he was not actually required to attend any American public school in the Standard Year of 1975. But there were two students at Sheridan Junior High School in Minneapolis that would have a positive impact on the American Nation in about four decades and he clearly wanted to meet with them. And now there was another student, a girl whose actions would also have a positive impact on the whole of humanity in the future.
Earlier in the morning he told Stephanie Cook that she could be naturally beautiful if she allowed herself to be so.
And she was.
The school lunch, which normally featured an institutional substitute for edible matter, was served in the basement lunchroom. Being fully aware of the nature and history of the school lunch, and of the American public education system in general, Evelyn had packed two self-made peanut butter sandwiches for his own lunch. He was about to wolf them down with whole milk when Stephanie stepped into the lunchroom.
The slut-wear was gone along with the heavy makeup and cheap costume jewelry. Even her hair had been washed and the style had been moderated to a degree. In the place of the slut-wear she was wearing a large long-sleeved white blouse and a long denim skirt.
This was likely what she wore when leaving home this morning, it certainly would have hid the slut-wear from her Mother and the gym class would have been the perfect opportunity to make the change back to it. He thought.
In both his direct and peripheral vision Boatman saw that the attention of most of the other students had turned to her as she walked by. And Stephanie had turned her attention to him. He watched as she went through the lunch line and then directly approached his position in the lunchroom. Stephanie actually smiled as she walked up to the table where he was seated.
As an ancient and proper gentleman Boatman stood up and pulled out a chair for Stephanie to sit upon. Once she was properly seated he resumed his own seat next to her.
“Miss Cook,” he said in his clearly mature voice, “your presence here is clearly welcome.”
“Thank you.” She replied.
Stephanie looked around the lunchroom and spoke again.
“It's like everyone is staring at me.”
“Stephanie, natural beauty is far superior to an artificially made made up appearance. You're now setting a positive example for everyone.”
Stephanie smiled again.
The fact was that if it weren't for the issues with age Boatman would actually be willing to initiate a closer relationship with Stephanie. A very close relationship. The woman that was her counterpart on the original timeline was someone he clearly could have married. If this version of Stephanie could grow up to be a fully rational woman she certainly would be his first choice for a marriage.
And as there was no way for the Falcon and its company to return to the time and place of origin there simply was no other alternative but to live here and now on the Earth.
“Now,” Boatman said to her, “isn't this far more comfortable than what you were wearing before?”
“Yes.” She replied.
“Good.” He said.
Stephanie spoke again.
“I was trying to be more mature.”
Boatman nodded before his reply.
“That is good, but the thing is that maturity is essentially a state of mind and therefore cannot be faked. If there is an actual shortcut to maturity it is to be rational, which is to see things and people as they are and treat them correctly.”
Stephanie stared at him in amazement.
Boatman spoke again.
“Seriously,” he said, “the schools are much better where I come from.”
The original incarnation of Evelyn Boatman had earned a Masters in Aerospace Engineering at Cal Tech in the 22nd Century. And he never bothered to count the number of times he turned down an honorary Doctorate before leaving the Solar System in the last of the starships that he built at the start of his second life.
Boatman then asked her a question.
“If I may be so forward, did you want to start a relationship?”
Boatman spoke again.
“You know, to go on dates, and such?”
“Yes.” She gently replied.
Then the conversation was rudely interrupted.
This was shouted at Boatman by a boy of obvious Mediterranean ancestry with uncut dark hair and who was wearing a fedora type hat.
“Joey...” said Stephanie under her breath.
Boatman stood up, he was clearly taller that the interloper and stared down at him.
“Is there a problem?” He said calmly.
“Yes there is, Asshole!” Joey shouted. “Stephanie is my girl!”
Boatman continued to stare down at him and thought for a moment.
This jerk couldn't possibly be the father of John Cook? If so, it's no wonder that he wouldn't be mentioned in any biography.
Boatman calmly replied.
“Joey, is it? The absolute fact of reality is that Miss Cook is not your possession. Miss Cook can speak to anyone she wishes to. And given your public behavior it's no surprise that she isn't speaking to you.”
Or seeking an alternative. He thought.
“So what are you gonna do about it?” Joey shouted back.
Evelyn looked at Stephanie and spoke.
“Stephanie, could you stand for a moment?”
Stephanie stood up and Evelyn fully embraced and gave her a full adult kiss upon the mouth. Stephanie felt as if she were melting and desperately embraced Evelyn for dear life. Even with their eyes closed Evelyn and Stephanie could hear the cheering of many of the other students in the lunchroom as they held on to each other.
When they finally opened their eyes and looked around it was clear that Joey had departed the scene.
“That was ahead of the schedule.” He said.
“Yes.” She replied.