Saturday afternoon, when Tom finished work for the day, he invited Casey for a walk in the Botanic Gardens. The day was cold, but clear, and the treetops moved in a high breeze. It was too early for flowers, but the park’s greenery was flourishing, and there were several groups of people taking the fresh air. Tom met Casey and Sam at the entrance to the park, Casey smiling with excitement at the prospect of a walk. She looked wonderful, in a simple brown skirt and jacket. She wore a green scarf around her throat, and a flowered hat. Her eyes seemed to pick up the color from the scarf, looking even deeper green than usual. She held his arm as they walked, and he felt as if there was no other time or place in the world except for this one.
They left Sam reading on a bench near the entrance, and as they strolled away, Tom explained that he had a certain motive for the walk. “You had all those months, working at the yard, getting to know me, while you knew that you were a woman, not a boy. I need a chance to catch up.” He stopped and looked at her quite seriously. “What parts of Casey the boy, are true for the woman, as well? What was an act?” He smiled, but it was a troubled smile. “Who is Casey Wilson?”
She returned his smile, with tears in her eyes. “Well now, that’s a very fair question. I don’t know that the answer is a short one.”
He patted her hand and resumed walking. “We have all afternoon. Start anywhere.”
She laughed a little, and then paused as if to gather her thoughts. “I want to be completely honest with you,” she said, and he frowned. He expected her to be honest, why would she say that? She squeezed his arm. “What I mean by that, is that I might need to tell you more than you expect to hear about the time I’m from, to give you reasons for what I did or said. You see, once I started getting to know you, I knew that I would never lie to you about anything else, ever. No matter what the cost to me.”
She fell silent, unable to continue for a moment. Tom rubbed her fingers. “Casey, I have forgiven you for that deception. I understand your reasons, even more now than before. Please don’t let it stay between us.”
With a deep breath, she nodded, and then gestured widely. “Well, it may surprise you to hear that, for the most part, Casey the boy—the way I acted and talked and worked while at the yard—is pretty much me. In a way, the woman who wears these… costumes,” she indicated her hat and clothes, “is more of an act than the boy.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
She moved to the rail and stood looking at the river. Tom realized she was not like the girls he knew—she stood differently, moved differently. The differences were subtle though, and could be put down to upbringing. She was naturally graceful, but had not been trained to gentility. After a moment, she turned to lean her back against the rail and regard him seriously. “Tom, I was born in 1985. The world changes a lot between now and then. I think it changes more in the next hundred years than at any time in human history. One of the biggest changes is the blurring of differences between men and women.”
Her words shocked him. He knew it showed because she smiled at his expression, clarifying, “Okay, I mean the social differences between men and women. Kids in my generation grew up as complete equals. We went to the same schools, had the same opportunities, the same responsibilities, competed for the same jobs. Women vote, they hold public office, they run companies, they do anything they are capable of doing. They don’t have to ask permission, they don’t have to be ‘protected’ or supported by a man.”
He shook his head, dumbfounded. She touched his arm. “What I’m trying to say is that working in a shipyard was completely normal for me. Oh, not the work itself, I had to learn that, but to have a job, to be around a lot of working men, I was comfortable with that. In fact, the part that was weird was not having more women around. That, and not having women’s lavatories, of course.”
He heard the joke in her tone, but just shook his head, unable to speak. He put his hands in his pockets and turned to look at the river. The suffragettes talked about a society like that. He was not one of those who thought women were incapable of voting or making decisions—far from it. But he couldn’t imagine the life Casey talked about.
She stood beside him and tried again. “Tom, think of the camaraderie, the casualness, you feel when working in a roomful of men. For my generation, that’s the way it is for boys and girls working together. It’s been that way for all our lives. We hardly even think about it. So when I say that Casey the boy is normal for me, that’s what I mean. Except for being careful that no one found out I was a girl, I just acted like myself.”
He stared at the railing, knowing he still didn’t understand. “So now?” he asked. “Dressing and acting like a woman? How is this an act, for you?” He looked at her accusingly. “That day in my office, you said you missed being a girl. It nearly broke my heart to hear you say that, to think we’d taken something special away from you. Where is the truth, Casey?”
She blinked away tears. “The truth is all of it, Tom. I missed being able to just go to work and have everybody know I was a girl and have it be okay. I’d have done all the same things and acted the same way and probably dressed the same. But I’d have been a girl.” She spread her hands, as if begging. “I would have just been me.”
He stared at her for a minute, trying to understand it, then rubbed his temples. “It’s all so foreign to me, but I guess I can understand how it would be for you, growing up that way. But what about now?” He held up his hands to indicate her clothing, not able to hide his misery. “Now, you can be a girl. But you say this is an act, and I don’t understand why. I want to know you, Casey. I want that more than anything else in the world. But where is the real Casey Wilson?”
She did start crying then. “Somewhere in 2006, I think.” Remorseful, he reached for her, but she turned away. He waited as she tried to stop crying and after a minute, she spoke again, her voice not quite clear. “I just find it a struggle to always be proper and… ladylike… for lack of a better word.” She turned to face him, brushing away a tear with gloved fingers. “I’m used to being more casual with people, even with men, and I’m… I don’t know… wilder, I guess, than what’s proper for a woman in this time. When I was running around Belfast as a boy, I didn’t have to worry about any of that. But now I feel like I’m constantly stifled.” She retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. “It’s not so bad that I’m unhappy or anything, and it can’t be helped, after all. I just have to get used to it.”
He chewed his lower lip, trying to think of a way to cheer her up. “If you could act as you wanted, what would you do?”
She looked surprised, and then turned in a slow circle, taking in the entire city. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe,” she gestured down the path at some kids playing football, “join in an impromptu game of football. Or meet my friends for a few beers at a pub.” She smiled a little at his alarmed expression. “Go dancing. Play a game of catch on the campus lawn.” She laughed suddenly. “Take off my shoes and sit on the floor!”
He laughed at that, though he was shocked about the beer. She looked at him curiously. “You have a sister, don’t you?”