Only then did Evangeline realize that she didn't know what to say. Usually she would rehearse what she would say in her head, but this time she didn't and her mind was blank.
"Do you need something?" He asked quisitively. He was wearing reading glasses that rested on his nose, causing him to look a few years older than he actually was.
"Um... hi... Mr. Keating, I uh need to talk to you about something," she stumbled on her words nervously. His eyebrows lifted questioningly. "Um, so, basically, I'm from 2021 and um obviously it's not 2021, it's the 50s or something and I know you from a mov-" The door slammed shut on me. She stood for a second, mouth wide open.
The she snapped out of it and began knocking on his door and buzzing the buzzer. Out of the overhead bay window, he looked down at her and yelled, "You need help, miss. I don't know you, you're a very strange person, and I hope you have a great life, but please leave me alone!"
"Please, Mr. Keating, you need to help me!" She begged him. He looked at her as her innocent blue eyes pleaded for help, but he closed the window.
Her eyes brimmed as her vision blurred, but then the door swung open. "And why must I believe you?" He asked, not harshly, but curiously.
"O Captain, my Captain."
¤°☆~☆°¤
John Keating and Evangeline were now packing up for Welton Academy. It's crazy to believe that only two months ago she was convincing him that she was from the year 2021.
~two months earlier~
Evangeline was sitting uncomfortably on a stool as Mr. Keating was preparing them both a cup of tea. She glanced into another doorway. It looked to be a dimly lit nook. The walls were all bookcases with a red chair tucked in the corner. She was snapped out of her gaze when he slid a teacup to her, and she took a sip from it. Too sweet, she thought to herself.
"Look, miss-"
"Evangeline."
"Miss Evangeline, what a strange name, I've allowed you into my home, please explain what you mean about me being in a movie, a-and you being from 2021, and how- explain to me how you knew about 'O Captain, my Captain." She looked up from her tea to Keating. He looked exhausted.
"So, uh, in my time there's a movie called Dead Poets Society and you're in it. I went to see it in a movie theater an-and when the movie finished and I left the theater I was here. Capt, it sounds unbelievable but I have proof." She pulled out her driver's license. "Look, October 4, 2004, I'm not even born yet."
"Things like that can be easily altered and changed," Keating claimed. Then, Evangeline remembered her cellphone. She pulled it out quickly and turned it on.
"Look, this is a cellphone from the future. A cellphone is a telephone but it travels with you," she stated urgently, hoping this would convince him. "There's no technology now that could create this."
He looked at it strangely, turning it and inspecting every angle of it. Still eyeing it, he told her, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I believe you."
"That's good news, because I just remembered something," she replied shakily.
"And what is that?"
Evangeline rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Um, uh, one of your students is gonna die. A-and I sound literally so stupid but as I said I s-saw the movie, and a, uh, a student of yours kills himself."
"Well what's his name? I'll save him."
"No! You'll make it worse," she exclaimed a little bit. She quickly recomposed herself and let her arms fall to her sides, not realizing that she'd lifted them as she exclaimed. "His parents don't approve of you."
"Then... well... would you like to go to Welton? I'm sure I could pull a few strings," he replied.
~real time~
Now there they were, packing for Welton. Keating convinced Nolan to allow Evangeline to go. Their story was that she was his daughter and her mom couldn't afford to care for her anymore. Nolan bought it (to both of their asronishment) and didn't ask any questions.
Keating was very nice to Evangeline and treated her like a daughter. He got her clothing to match with the trends of the 50s... which meant wearing skirts. She was planning on wearing them for the first few days to school to make a good impression, then slowly integrate pants into her outfits.
¤°☆~☆°¤
Keating and Evangeline had been driving for about an hour. Evangeline's gaze held steadily out the window, only stopping when the song Splish Splash by Bobby Darin began to play. It was one of her favorite 50s songs. She turned the volume knob up and began to hum to the song.
"You know this song?" Keating asked, a surprised look written all over his face.
A huge grin spread across her face, "Just because I'm from 2021 doesn't mean I don't have great taste in music." She laughed as he scoffed.
"Yes, you're right, Eva," he chuckled. "But music in 2021 must be different than now... what does it sound like?"
Evangeline thought for a moment, trying to find a song she could sing to him. Then she just gave up, "Capt, I think I just have an old soul. Music from my day isn't worth listening to."
"Oh c'mon, Eva! Use your little phone thingy and play a song!" Keating urged.
She pulled her phone out of her skirt's waistband, since women seemingly weren't human enough for pockets, and pulled up her Spotify. She looked through her playlist ironically called "Carpe Diem".
"People Watching? By Conan Gray? Its vibe is a lot different than Splish Splash but I love it so much." Keating nodded his head in approval. She turned the radio all the way down and turned her phone volume all the way up.
Keating's face scrunched at the noise, it was different than what he was used to. After a bit his face relaxed as she sang, "I wanna feel all that love and emotion, be that attached to the person I'm holding..."
Her face lit up just as the song ended, Keating had to listen to Olivia Rodrigo's album, Sour. Evangeline put Brutal on and waited for Keating's reaction. His brows furrowed, then loosened as he listened to the lyrics. When the song ended all he said was, "You're generation is very sensitive. Not that it's bad."
"Yeah," she agreed. "But if you lived what I lived, you would understand why."
"Yes? How so?" Keating asked, intrigued.
"Well, politics, first of all. Teens are for-orced to speak about it or listen to it. Tea-chers at schools are forcing their opinions on us an-and then other students sh-shame you for your political opinion even though yo-u didn't even w-ant to share it in the first place."
"And every-everyday girls are getting cat-called and raped and sexually assaul-aulted and if it happens to a boy then he "be-etter keep his mouth shut because no-no one would ever be-believe him". And the racism is out of control, racism against Asians, Native Ameri-cans, black people, and even white people, if-if someone is a different skin color than you, you're suppo-osed to hate them. If you don't hate and hate and hate then you're irrelevant and no-t cool. And the virus has people out of control, if you're getting vac-cinated you're praised, if you're not then people think you're a redneck or a die-hard Repub-publican. And the homoph- I'm sorry," she ended her stuttering venting as soon as she came back into reality.
"Don't worry about it," he replied. "What virus though?"
"The Coronavirus, a worldwide pandemic."
¤°☆~☆°¤
"Captain, I think I'm gonna die!" Eva whined as she shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat of his VW Beetle.
"We only have an hour to go," he grumbled. She concluded that they both hated long road trips to a destination named Hell-ton.
She stretched her pale legs as far as they could go, but being 5'10 there was little leg space.
She stared out the window again at the passing grass fields and the occasional tree or horse. Then something caught her eye about 30 meters ahead. Finally, they were at a close enough distance to see the name of the building. The Poets' Palace was the name.
"Captain, what's that?" Evangeline asked, nodding to approaching building. He looked over at it, a small smile creeping on his face.
"The Poets' Palace," he said, sighing softly. His eyes looked reminiscent as he explained it, "It was a place back when I was a teen, around your age, that was really popular. It was a bookstore and every Thursday there'd be an open mic where people would recite poems. The Society and I snuck out there many times. We wooed many ladies," he chuckled.
"Did you sound your barbaric yawp?" Eva asked jokingly. He looked taken aback for a second, probably wondering how she knew that, then he smiled.
"Evangeline, it was so rambunctious and barbaric the whole world could hear me."