Chapter 132: Amy’s Dilemma

Monday, June 14, 1971

Kip, Penny, and Karla were sitting in the booth closest to the galley, cleaning their weapons as they talked. Amy was sitting all alone in a booth further away. She looked at me forlornly, so I slid in across from her.

Karla had seen me and looked her question at me.

“Please! I’m starved!” I thought to her.

“Coming right up!” was her reply.

I turned to look across the table at Amy.

“Good morning, beautiful!” I told her.

“It’s afternoon, Michael,” she replied somewhat sourly.

When I just looked at her, she said, “I’m sorry. I’m just outa sorts today.”

“Wanna tell me about it? Or is it too personal?” I asked.

“Personal? Yeah, I guess it is,” she replied with a sigh, “It’s just that I could feel you all just now. At least I could feel them. And I got jealous, at first, then I just became sad.”

“Sad?” I asked. I had scanned her, so I thought I knew what she was feeling, but I wasn’t sure I understood. Despite all the powers and training they had given me, none of it helped me understand women any better.

“I don’t know why I’m even talking to you,” she snapped. “You’re just a guy!”

Amy moved to get up so I placed my hand on hers. “Please. You know that I’ve been around a long time. And I have a pretty good ear for listening,” I told her trying to sound as supportive as I could. “And I have scanned you, so I think I know what you’re feeling. Please stay and talk to me. Okay?”

She sat back in her seat as she looked at me. “You saw?” You really saw what I’m feeling? And it doesn’t bother you?” she asked.

“Amy, I felt what you’re feeling. I’m an empath, remember? But until you just spoke, I wasn’t sure what it meant. Now, I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“Izzy?” I quickly thought. “Can you come to the Dining Car? I think I may need your help with something.”

“Is it a legal issue? If it is, it can keep, can’t it?” she answered, reluctant to interrupt whatever she was doing.

I simply replayed what I had felt from Amy.

“I’ll be right there!” she replied. I left her connected as she dressed.

“What am I going to do?” Amy had asked while I was talking to Izzy.

“Amy, what you’re feeling is natural.” I told her. “It may not yet be considered normal, but science will soon discover that it is not a disease, or a deformity. Sexual preference is all about choice. There is no rule that everyone has to have the same preference. And as you know, there is no rule that says you have to prefer me over Vickie.”

“You DO KNOW!” Amy said in horror. “Oh. No!”

“Stop it, Amy! Listen to me,” I told her sternly. “I know that you are feeling conflicted. I know that you have recently discovered that you are attracted to girls, and feel that it is wrong. Well, it’s not wrong!”

Amy bowed her head in embarrassment, but I continued. I could tell she was hanging on every word.

“In the future, what you are feeling will be much more acceptable. There will be celebrities and famous athletes, both male and female who will announce and talk about their feelings. The same exact feelings that you are having within you right now. There will be people from all walks of life, and they won’t be looked down upon, or thought evil, except by those of much lesser education, or from lack of information,” I told her.

“Why? Why are you telling me this?” Amy cried softly.

“Because,” I told her gently as I took her hands in mine. “I am from that future, and your feelings are not nearly as strange to me, as ... seeing people smoke cigarettes in restaurants.”

“Huh?”

“Sorry. I forgot. You don’t know that smoking inside, in restaurants, on airplanes, in office buildings, anywhere people work or eat or play as a group, is banned,” I explained.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And everyone, from small children to senior citizens carry a small device, no bigger than a woman’s compact in some cases, that serves as an instant camera, and a telephone, and a computer, and a million other uses. And I’m telling you that our world as we know it today, in 1971, will change. Even more than it’s changed in the last hundred years. Fifty years ago, women finally got the right to vote. In forty more years, they will become the majority of college graduates. They’ll own companies, and head large corporations. And no one will think twice about whether they prefer a woman as a companion, instead of a man. In some states, they will even be allowed to be legally married.

“Please Amy. You must believe what I say. I ... Don’t ... Care.” I told her emphatically. “I don’t care if you prefer the company of women over men. There is nothing wrong with that, or with you. I love you for who you are. I am attracted to the young lady you are, and the leader and administrator you are becoming. I don’t care if you prefer Vickie, Nicky, or any of the others instead of me. I only care that you never shut me out of your life.”

“It’s really not sick or perverted?” Amy asked through her reddened eyes.

“The choice of a sexual partner, or even a lifelong partner, is exactly that. A choice. The feelings you have for Vickie or Nicky are as natural and perfectly normal as auburn hair, or hazel eyes, or perfectly formed thirty-two ‘C’ cup breasts,” I teased.

“Michael’s correct, Amy,” Izzy told her as she slid in the booth next to me. Karla was right behind her with my lunch, and after asking the other two if they wanted anything, she left.

“See, Izzy agrees. Thirty-two C’s are perfect!” I told Amy, smiling. “Especially if you have auburn hair and hazel eyes.”

“Ah, that’s not exactly what I meant,” Izzy said.

“Yeah, I know,” I told them. “But I want Amy to know that I’m going to tease her, just like I do everyone else, because her sexual preference makes absolutely no difference to me. In fact, I may tease her more, just like I would if she were really pretty!”

“MICHAEL! You’re horrible!” Amy reacted as she slapped me on the arm. Hard!

But she was smiling, and I could sense a small amount of relief. I knew that if she truly preferred women, I would still love her, protect her, and care for her. But I decided that I needed to find some other ways to support her. And to remind her that I still loved her.

I continued to listen, with very little to contribute as Amy and Izzy talked. I called Izzy for three reasons. I knew that she was open-minded. I knew that she was mature. And I sensed she was probably bisexual. I’m not sure if she totally admitted that last part to herself just yet.