flung against the sky as I watched through the window as the great plane circled the airport once, like a pigeon searching for landmarks then struck out in an unerring line for the far horizon.

When the plane landed, I looked around for my employer. After several minutes search, I found her peering anxiously at the plane. I stood there next to her for several minutes, but she seemed unaware of my presence, until I cleared my throat and asked, “pardon me, but may I have your autograph, Mrs. ?"With that she practically exploded.

I had chosen carefully to make a good impression and I guess I did that all right, with my beige suit on, my hair shining like Kansas wheat, my lips the color of berries. Miss Scott looked me over from top to bottom several times, shaking her head and finally mumbled, “I don't believe it!"

The next several months were very busy times indeed. I had already made an initial transition to my new role. Miss Scott and I worked very hard indeed, clearing up masses of notes, editing, even composing new things. I told her, of course, about Beth and she was fascinated. So much so, that she suggested I write a story about it. I was wary of it for a while, for it was, well, a bit bizarre, but eventually I found a way to express it. To my surprise, it sold. I was now a real author.

My relationship with my employer changed too. Instead of employee, I was more of a confidante, companion and helpmeet. And in other ways, things changed. Miss Scott gradually disappeared, beneath a steady emergence of a new personality that was very becoming to my boss. As I became more engrossed in my role, so Scotty for so I called her, emerged and became objectified as a masculine figure.

Within six months, the lectures had been prepared and things had settled down. I began work on a book of my own which was rapidly taking form. Scotty was busy running to all the campuses in the country.

One winter night, as we sat before a great log fire, just talking, a subtle change came over us. It must have been a long time building, but as I sat there, I felt an electric thrill run through me. I turned and looked at Scotty and teasingly ran my slim fingers across the crewcut he now affected. For answer, he twined his own square hand in my own tresses. For a brief instant, time stood still, and then we two met and fused.

18