“All right. My donor, Eunice Branca, my former secretary and the sweetest, loveliest girl I’ve ever known, was not only a perfect secretary; she was a beauty contest winner not many years back. I know what a treasure I inherited from her. 1 don’t wear her body with the charming grace she gave it—but I’m trying to learn.”
(You’re learning, Boss.)
“It is the opinion of this Court that you have learned.”
“Shut up, Mac. Brother Schmidt, I agree with him merely because he’s right.”
“Thank you both—on behalf of Eunice Branca. Jake? Now that Court has adjourned do I have to wear this Mother Hubbard? It’s too warm.”
“That’s up to you. I suppose it depends on how much you have under it.”
“Mmm . . . perhaps I’d better not. Minimum decency under the customs of today—but it would get a burlesque queen thirty days back when I was a youngster.” (Exhibitionist. You’re asking to be coaxed.) (Certainly. And who taught me? At least the bra isn’t just paint, like that mermaid outfit you zapped me with.)
Alec Train said, “Brother Schmidt, in identity cases it is sometimes necessary to require the challenged individual to strip completely. Birthmarks and scars and such—tell her, Judge.”
“Ignore him, Brother Schmidt. I wouldn’t call that lovely Grecian robe a ‘Mother Hubbard.’ But I can see that it was intended for outdoors and I’ll happily hang it up for you.”
“Uh . . . oh, goodness, I’m having trouble shucking off my early-twentieth-century Puritanism. Jake has seen me in the nothing-much girls wear today, and he’s seen Eunice in even less than I have on under this; Eunice wasn’t shy about sharing her beauty.” (You milked that, didn’t you, dearie? Which one are you after?) (Shut up!) Joan ran a finger down the magnostrip, let the robe fall open; Alec Train hurried to claim it ahead of the Judge.
Then she posed. “See? This is almost the way Eunice Branca looked—except that she walked in glory, always while I am an old man who is trying to learn to wear her body.” Besides Eunice’s body, Joan was wearing some of Winnie’s clothes—black frill skirt, translucent black Cling-On cups, six-inch Sticktite stilt sandals that left her pretty feet in view—no paint, just restrained enhancement with rouge and shadow.
She posed, they stared. Jake cleared his throat louder than usual. “Joan, had I known what you were wearing—not wearing, rather—under that robe, I would have advised you to keep it on.”
“Oh, pooh, Jake, you wouldn’t have scolded Eunice for dressing this way. But that brings up something I must ask. Judge, I can’t go on being ‘Johann Smith.’ Will you let inc change my name?”
“That’s not properly put, Brother Schmidt. You can have any name you like. At most a court confirms it. You mean that you need a girl’s name now. Helen, perhaps? Or Cleopatra?”
“Thank you—for Eunice.” (Boss,, find out if Judge is still married.) (Go back to sleep!) “Not either of those names. I want to be known as ‘Joan’—for ‘Johann’—‘Joan Eunice…Smith.’”
Judge McCampbell lOoked surprised, then smiled in, approval. “A good choice. The flavor of your masculine name, plus, I assume, a tribute to your donor. But may I offer a word of advice? You can start calling yourself that today—”
“I already have.”
“I noticed that Jake called you ‘Joan.’ But let it be a family name, and keep your masculine name at other times—use it to sign letters, checks, and so forth—until your identity has been finally established—in the Supreme Court if possible. Don’t cloud the issue.”
“I gave her the same advice,” Salomon put in.
“I’m not surprised. Miss—Brother Schmidt, what do you want me to call you? In private.”
“Why, either ‘Joan’ or ‘Eunice.’ Both by preference, as I do not want anyone ever to forget Eunice Branca. Me least of all—I want ‘to be reminded of my benefactor. Benefactrix. But don’t call me ‘Miss’ in private. Look, brothers, as ‘Brother Schmidt’ I am half a century older than you two . . . but as ‘Joan Eunice’ I am only a few weeks old. However, Eunice’s body is that of a young woman, and that is what I am learning—must learn!—to be. You could have daughters my age. So please call me ‘Joan Eunice’ and save ‘Miss Smith’ for court appearances.” She smiled. “Or ‘Brother Schmidt if you wish—although ‘Yonny’ was what I was called by our brothers in my chapter.”