The Last Thing I Remembered

The last thing I remember is staring at a photo of my grandmother, mother, and myself as a baby.

The next thing I know I am in the 1920’s in a buggy. There is a man who turns to look at me. He resembles a young version of my grandfather. “Miriam, are you feeling okay?”

Then I wake up in my bed in 2022. I feel lost and confused, but grateful.

As a child I remember having experiences like this and telling my mother. She said “Oh, you always had such a vivid imagination and amazing memories for people’s life stories.

I get a glass of water and on my fridge is a photo of my parents. I suddenly find myself in my father’s apartment. The one he got after the divorce. He looks at me and says “Sweetie, it’s so good to see you. I didn’t know you were stopping by today.” He walks towards me like he wants to kiss me on the lips. I pull away. He looks hurt and I say “I am getting over a cold.” He smiles and says “I don’t mind.”

“Oh. I do.”

I walk to the bathroom and in the mirror I see that I am his girlfriend. And that wasn’t the weirdest part. I also had this glow. I panic. How do I get out of this situation? Why am I her? Why am I glowing? What was I doing before this happened?

I realize there could be a connection with photos so I pull out my driver’s license. It doesn’t work. It’s her’s.

“Can we go to a bar?”

“Yea, they just opened one called Anywhere, Nowhere, Everywhere.”

“Sounds great!”

The bartender looks at me funny. She whispers in the ear of the burly man and he punches my dad. Then she grabs my hand and pulls me to the back alley.

“You’re a time traveler, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well you’re not Alyssa, you don’t act like her and you have a funny glow.”

“Yes and how do I get back home?”

“I am not one hundred percent sure, but I dated someone who traveled back. My ex killed my grandfather. If you stop his death, I will help you get back to your time.”

“How?”

“Dave, my ex said he only got stuck in time when someone needed help. It was generally just his family members. Maybe it’s still your family. Maybe I am supposed to help your dad and you are supposed to help me.”

I am feeling stunned and shocked as I say “Okay.”

She hands me a photo face down.

“This is my grandfather. I would recommend looking at it first thing in the morning.”

When I wake up, I stare at the photo and I am in a beautiful 1920’s ballroom. We are about to attend a banquet. And the waiter has an odd glow. I suspect this is the man. I decline pepper in our soups, which leaves the man smiling. He might be smiling, but the glow is snarling at me. He offers sugar and cream with the coffee and desserts. I decline and then follow him back.

“Why do you want to kill him?”

“I am just hired help. I suspect it’s a political move.”

“Who dislikes his political views?”

“I don’t know. You might want to ask him.”

When we get home, I ask him “Who wants you dead?”

“No one, sweetie.”

I stare at him scornfully and he sighs “I don’t want you to worry, but the developers have been pressuring me.”

“I am afraid your life is in danger.”

He looks concerned and says “I didn’t know they were pressuring you, too.”

“They are not but they are making it clear that they want their way.”

He pauses and says we will talk tomorrow.

The following morning the developer shows up and after an hour long meeting he leaves smiling. Although my grandfather looks defeated, he is also alive. I close my eyes and pull out the second photo I have of the bartender.

I am back at the bar. She smiles brightly and says your parents have made up. I close my eyes and when I open them again I am back home. The right place at the right time.