“Two thousand eight! What kind of sick joke is this?” Fear like he’d never known pierced his heart. Oh, God, he was dead and this was purgatory. But why had a beautiful woman falling from the sky caused him to die? He believed an angel should have approached him and guided him into death, but his angel had arrived dead. Ah, that was it, even the afterlife could mess up and here he was dead with no proper guidance.
She put her hand on his arm. “Come with me now that I see you can walk. Let’s get you in the house where you can sit and I can bring you something to drink.”
“I don’t want something to drink, I just want answers.”
“I’m trying to do that, but this is as difficult for me as for you.
"Well, maybe not as difficult for me, I didn’t just skip a whole century to land in the new millennium.”
Suddenly, Jonas was very tired, very sore and very hungry. Thirsty could have been a part of that as well, and he could see that standing out here in this weed patch was not going to get him answers. “Do you have any whiskey?” He didn’t really think a young woman would have whiskey; but so many other things were wrong with this, maybe by some strange occurrence something would be right.
“Yes, my father loves whiskey, so I keep some on hand.”“Is your father home?”
Her laugh floated back to him as she led the way into the house. “No, in 2008 women are allowed to live alone.”
“Are you a widow, then?”
“No, never married, just out of college; I went later than most. Now I'm trying to make my mark in the world.”
A woman in collage, now that he understood. “So you’re a suffragette.”She held the door open for him and smiled, “Nope, no need for them anymore, they won. In the 1920’s we were granted the right to vote in all elections with the 19th Amendment. Although, the women’s movement is still alive, we can be who we want to be, for the most part.”
Confused, he followed her into what should have been the kitchen. He stopped short just inside the door.
This was nothing like the garden, or the cracked brick on the house. This room had been freshly painted in a creamy white. What had happened? It hadn't looked like this this morning. Where had all the cabinets come from, and what were most of the things on them?
He saw her try to reach the whiskey from a high cabinet and moved forward to help.
"These seem a good idea until someone such as yourself tries to use them.”“Thank you,” she said taking the bottle from him. He was careful not to touch her. Somehow he felt he would be burned if he did. Not literally, he didn’t think he was in hell, yet, but figuratively.
“I don’t have a problem with the lower shelves, and I only store things I don’t normally need on that shelf. Then I usually use a stepladder."
She moved to another cabinet and got him a large glass saying, "Sorry, I don't have anything smaller."
Opening a cabinet that went from the floor almost to the ceiling, she asked, “Ice or straight?”By this time he was so confused, he didn’t know what to say except to murmur, “Ice.”
She smiled and said, “Come here.”
“Why?”
“I want you to get them yourself.”
“Get what myself?”
“The ice cubes.”
“There’s ice in there? Why is it steaming?”
“Because it’s warm out here and cold in there and the fan’s blowing. This is the refrigerator, very much like your icebox, except ice is no longer brought to the house. Electricity keeps everything in here either cold or frozen.”
As he limped over, he felt the cold grow stronger. It was, indeed very cold and when he got in front of it, he saw there were squares of ice in a container, along with many small boxes and bags. He took one square of ice out and put it in the glass. Then he read one of the boxes, “Toaster Strudel.” Puzzled, he looked at her as she closed the door. “Why do you toast strudel?”
She smiled, took his glass and moved to the cabinet to pour the whiskey. A good portion, thankfully, he was going to need all the fortification he could get.
And her next words didn’t help any. “I’ll show you in the morning. You are still going to be here in the morning, aren’t you?”Chapter Three
7 comments:
"why do you toast strudel"? LOL! I loved this. His reactions! Her showing him the ice cubes. Hahaha, fantastic. Poor, poor Jonas. So lost and confused in this big, new world.
“Why do you toast strudel?” :D
I just found your blog and am playing catch up. This story is very cute. Should be interesting to see how Jonas adjusts to his new environment.
Saoz,
Thank you so much. This story has been really fun, and difficult to write; it's made me really look at our environment and things we take for granted everyday.
and what is even more fun is the way both of them seem to accept the fact that they've crossed time somehow. at least Cheyenne has accepted it. Not sure that Jonas knows what's going on yet!
Love the ice cubes and the toaster strudel too! Hilarious!
Actually, to tell you the truth, after years of eating toaster strudel, I still wonder why we toast them. Those buggers had to have gotten a lot of grease in the toaster. :)
I think once Jonas gets a good look in that freezer, toaster strudel and ice cubes will be the least of his questions. At least that would be the case with my freezer. :D
Jonas is still a little disoriented from falling flat on his face, I'm sure.
This one was really cute! All the things we have now would be SO overwhelming to someone who came from that time. It is interesting to think about it, this is shaping up to be quite the tale I think! Have to take a break though and make dinner! :D LOL.
Once again, thank you, Emily. I live in a Victorian that sits on what was once a main avenue in our city. When I first moved here after getting married, I use to look out the large front window with the lion head radiator stretching beneath the length of it and wonder what it was like when the street was brick and the horses and buggies went down it. My imagination's quite vivid, and sometimes I could almost hear them.
I think that's where this comes from, my thinking back to that time and wondering what the attorney who built our house would think of the world now.
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