Through Time and Place
Sara walked swiftly down the street, her face dotted with tears. Her grandmother had just died, and she only wanted to be alone. It was a weekday so almost everyone was working or at school. Sara hadn't gone to school that day because when she woke up, her mother told her the news. It was early afternoon, early enough that the library wasn't open yet. Her mother let her go for a walk, she thought it was best. She walked up to the bench that had a bronze statue of a boy that looked as if he was a newsboy or something like that. Sara didn't care; she sat down beside it her head in her hands. She suddenly felt quite sleepy, so she leaned against the statue feeling a strange sense of warmth. She had just closed her eyes, when the statue shifted and she fell backwards.
"What the..?" she said as she opened her eyes. Staring down at her was a boy that looked just like the statue only he had a cigar in his mouth. Sara immediately recognized him, but could it be.Racetrack Higgins? "No, you don't exist! I'm dreaming! That is the only reasonable explanation for this!" the boy looked at her oddly, "Wha's wrong wit' ya?" he asked. Sara stood up. " You're not real! I'm imagining you!" Race looked at her like he thought she was a nutcase. "Did ya escape from the nuthouse or have ya just bin hit on the head too many times?" he replied, still staring at her. Sara pinched herself hard, and it stung. That meant she wasn't dreaming. "You're Racetrack Higgins, right?" Racetrack dropped his cigar and stepped on it. "So I'm real now, huh?" she straightened herself up. "Show me to Jack Kelly." She ordered. Racetrack looked at her clothes oddly, and replied, "Uh, maybe you'se should find some clothes foirst." She looked down at her apparel. She was dressed in some ragged jeans, an "I Have Issues" t-shirt, and a pair of pink spongy flip-flops. She also had her long brown hair in a pink bandanna and her glasses were wet with tears. "I must look in a right state." She said to him, commenting but she had no money. "I have no money, Race." Racetrack, who seemed to be taking this all too well, rubbed his chin for a little bit. "Well, ya could borrow some of a friend of mines clothes, or ya could borrow some of da' guys' stuff." "Yeah.. I suppose so.but I don't have a place to stay either." She replied, rubbing her eyes. Race pondered this for awhile. "Why, ya could stay at da' Lodgin' House! Da' guys wouldn't like it too much though. Would ya mind dressin' an' actin' like one of da' guys?" Sara thought it out for a little, "Is it the only way I can possibly stay there?" Race nodded slightly. "Unless ya want ta' be picked on for bein' a goil." Sara sighed, "Damn." she muttered, and Race seemed a little taken aback. He had never heard a girl curse; certainly not one that looked like this one did, but yet he had never seen anyone like her. "Jack'll have ta know." Race decided. "We'll have ta find a way to hide your hair." "Well, we could cut some of it." Sara suggested, and Race snapped his fingers. "You'se smart! I'm gonna get Jack." Sara nodded, and Race ran off. Sara sat and thought things out. What was she doing here and how did she get there? Why not at home in her own time mourning her grandmother? This was 1899, her grandmother wouldn't even be born yet, it felt weird to her then, but she missed her grandmother dearly so that didn't stay on her mind long. She sat back down on the bench, looking at the ground when she heard a soft, clear voice. "Um, Hiya. I'm Jack Kelly."
Sara walked swiftly down the street, her face dotted with tears. Her grandmother had just died, and she only wanted to be alone. It was a weekday so almost everyone was working or at school. Sara hadn't gone to school that day because when she woke up, her mother told her the news. It was early afternoon, early enough that the library wasn't open yet. Her mother let her go for a walk, she thought it was best. She walked up to the bench that had a bronze statue of a boy that looked as if he was a newsboy or something like that. Sara didn't care; she sat down beside it her head in her hands. She suddenly felt quite sleepy, so she leaned against the statue feeling a strange sense of warmth. She had just closed her eyes, when the statue shifted and she fell backwards.
"What the..?" she said as she opened her eyes. Staring down at her was a boy that looked just like the statue only he had a cigar in his mouth. Sara immediately recognized him, but could it be.Racetrack Higgins? "No, you don't exist! I'm dreaming! That is the only reasonable explanation for this!" the boy looked at her oddly, "Wha's wrong wit' ya?" he asked. Sara stood up. " You're not real! I'm imagining you!" Race looked at her like he thought she was a nutcase. "Did ya escape from the nuthouse or have ya just bin hit on the head too many times?" he replied, still staring at her. Sara pinched herself hard, and it stung. That meant she wasn't dreaming. "You're Racetrack Higgins, right?" Racetrack dropped his cigar and stepped on it. "So I'm real now, huh?" she straightened herself up. "Show me to Jack Kelly." She ordered. Racetrack looked at her clothes oddly, and replied, "Uh, maybe you'se should find some clothes foirst." She looked down at her apparel. She was dressed in some ragged jeans, an "I Have Issues" t-shirt, and a pair of pink spongy flip-flops. She also had her long brown hair in a pink bandanna and her glasses were wet with tears. "I must look in a right state." She said to him, commenting but she had no money. "I have no money, Race." Racetrack, who seemed to be taking this all too well, rubbed his chin for a little bit. "Well, ya could borrow some of a friend of mines clothes, or ya could borrow some of da' guys' stuff." "Yeah.. I suppose so.but I don't have a place to stay either." She replied, rubbing her eyes. Race pondered this for awhile. "Why, ya could stay at da' Lodgin' House! Da' guys wouldn't like it too much though. Would ya mind dressin' an' actin' like one of da' guys?" Sara thought it out for a little, "Is it the only way I can possibly stay there?" Race nodded slightly. "Unless ya want ta' be picked on for bein' a goil." Sara sighed, "Damn." she muttered, and Race seemed a little taken aback. He had never heard a girl curse; certainly not one that looked like this one did, but yet he had never seen anyone like her. "Jack'll have ta know." Race decided. "We'll have ta find a way to hide your hair." "Well, we could cut some of it." Sara suggested, and Race snapped his fingers. "You'se smart! I'm gonna get Jack." Sara nodded, and Race ran off. Sara sat and thought things out. What was she doing here and how did she get there? Why not at home in her own time mourning her grandmother? This was 1899, her grandmother wouldn't even be born yet, it felt weird to her then, but she missed her grandmother dearly so that didn't stay on her mind long. She sat back down on the bench, looking at the ground when she heard a soft, clear voice. "Um, Hiya. I'm Jack Kelly."
