I opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk; almost instantly a man appeared from nowhere, colliding with me. He was obviously agitated and disoriented, nevertheless he stopped and apologized. He was unshaven and somewhat dishevelled, wearing a shabby brown coat and hat. Looking around at his surroundings he pleaded with me, "Please, where am I?" "Front Street" I said. "What year?" he added. Realizing he was bewildered by what he was seeing – cars in the street, tall buildings rising up around us – "2017" I replied. He looked at me askance.

"Can I help you?" I asked; he was obviously very confused. He just kept looking at me as if I'd said he was on the moon. "I know this must seem very strange to you." I felt I needed to say something. "Why don't you come with me and we'll try and figure it out?" I took his elbow and nudged him towards my car, which was parked directly in front of the store. I opened the car door and beckoned him to get in, he hesitated slightly then nodded and slumped down into the seat. I went around to the driver's door and got in, closed the door behind me and started the engine. I realized I had no idea what to do with him, where to take him … I said so. He just looked at me with a blank expression. It was almost supper time so I asked, "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?" I figured the best place to go was home, just a couple of minutes away, feed him if he wanted something and give myself some time to come up with a plan. He nodded. "Right then, I'll take you to my place. It's not far." I let myself into the parking garage and made my way to my parking spot. "Where are we?" he asked, "What is this place?" "It's a parking garage for my apartment building." I replied. "Apartment building?" he repeated. I got out of the car and walked around to the passenger door. He was still looking for the door handle so I opened it and held it as he climbed out. I led him into the building and to the elevator. We got out at my floor and walked to my apartment door. He hesitated. "What's wrong?" I asked then realized he was probably unsure about being in a strange woman's apartment. "It's alright." I assured him and gestured for him to enter.

I suggested he remove his hat and coat, took them from him and hung them in the closet then led him to the dining table where he sat as I went around the counter into the kitchen. Opening the fridge door I surveyed the contents. "How does homemade chicken soup sound?" I asked, realizing homemade was somewhat redundant given my 'guest'. "Good" he replied. I took out the dish, figured he could probably eat the whole lot and put it in the microwave. "What's that?" he gestured towards the appliance. "It's a microwave oven. Ahh, George's potato cooking room…." I said without thinking. "How do you know George? Is he here too?" the man responded animatedly. "Err, no … at least … I don't think he is." I put the soup on the table in front of him along with a spoon and a loaf of bread I'd made that morning – the lazy way, in the bread maker. "Would you like me to cut you a couple of slices?" I asked. He nodded as he put a spoonful of soup in his mouth. I sliced the bread and went to get a knife and the butter which I'd forgotten. "Would you like some tea?" I figured it was always time for tea. Again he nodded. I set up the coffee machine to make the tea … yes, I make tea in a filter coffee machine. I put the mugs, milk and sugar on the table along with a couple of spoons. When the tea was ready I poured it and sat opposite him at the table. "I'm Ann by the way." I offered him my hand, he shook it. "William Murdoch," he replied. "I know." I replied in turn. He stopped dead and looked at me.

I took a sip of tea to collect my thoughts; it didn't help. "I know this will sound strange but … I knew who you were as soon as I saw you, and before you ask, I don't understand what's going on any more than you do." He cocked his head as I continued, "To me you're a character in a TV show." He looked completely blank. I explained. "A TV – television – show … it's … like a moving picture." A barely audible "Ahh…." crossed his lips, then a slight look of comprehension flashed across his face. "I've heard that word before." I nodded, "Yes, Nicola Tesla suggested it instead of telekinetoscope." He looked surprised, "Nicola Tesla, I met him years ago, I remember him saying that but … how did you know?" I shrugged, "The television show. Tell you what, finish your soup, then I'll show you."

I led him into the living room and suggested he sit on the chair in front of the TV. After connecting the laptop to the TV I turned them both on, opened up iTunes and found the last episode of Season 10. I figured we may as well start around where he'd left off, then maybe he could tell me where he'd been and what happened just before he collided with me.

The show started with the opening credits, his jaw dropped, "It's a moving picture, in colour!" Then, "That's me!" he said, pointing to the screen then himself, when he saw 'himself' at the beginning of the opening credits. "I look younger though." He furrowed his brow. I tried to explain to him, "Actually that's an actor, see there's his name. This show has been on for ten years, the opening credits haven't changed; that's the actor from ten years ago." God this was strange! The opening scene started with the Inspector shooting over Murdoch's head, "I remember hearing the shot. I didn't know who or where it had come from." It suddenly occurred to me, could this be the actor with some sort of memory loss? Perhaps he's having a breakdown of some sort. I had an idea. I turned on my tablet and opened up Twitter, there, not half an hour ago was a tweet with a photo from California. Well it wasn't him, so … who was this man? He was the spitting image of William Murdoch, apparently with William Murdoch's memories, but how could he BE William Murdoch? Maybe I'm dreaming? That's it! It's just a very realistic dream.

The show continued and 'Murdoch' made comments on his actions and was interested in what the other characters were saying and doing. He was particularly upset at the treatment Julia had received at the hands of Chief Constable Davis and vowed he would pay for upsetting her. "That's my Julia!" he shouted out when Julia landed the punch on Franklin William's nose. He was really getting into this! Then it was the scene where Davis held the gun to Brackenreid's head. "There was enough time for the Inspector to turn the tables on him before we heard the shot. Surely he didn't go without a gun?" When it came to the scene of the constables being shot he was crushed. He commented on how stupid it was to make that phone call but he couldn't get help any other way. He couldn't believe Graham had the gall to come to the station house and said he knew then he'd been right from the beginning and was even more determined to bring Graham and Williams to justice. "They won't get away with this." he promised, then added "I never thought I'd be grateful to see Detective Watts."

The whole time he'd been sat on the edge of his seat watching intently. Now the show had finished he slumped back and rubbed his face with both hands. I gave him a moment or two to take it all in and collect his thoughts. "Tell me what happened after that." He hesitated for a second then looked at me, "After Det. Watts left? Another man came in, I'd never seen him before." I asked if he remembered anything about him. "Yes, he had a Newfoundland accent like George." Bingo! The Professor! Now it made sense. But would he still be hanging around in 1904 Toronto? I opened up the first Beyond Time episode so he could identify the man for me. Sure enough it was him. "Did he say anything to you?" He looked pensive, then "Yes, he said I needed to get out of there, I needed to be kept safe." "Did he say why?" His face scrunched up as if he thought something was odd. "Yes…. He said nothing could happen to me. I needed to be kept safe and … I was going to do something essential to the future of Canada." Well, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised at that given what the Professor was doing. But what could a fictional character do that was essential to the future? Well that's a stupid question, the Professor's a fictional character too! The whole thing could be a story plot.

"So, this Professor character comes in, tells you you're essential to the future of Canada then … what? Did he say anything else … how long you'd have to stay away for example, and when he'd come to get you?" He shook his head, "No." Great, so here's William Murdoch in my home when perhaps he should have stayed exactly where he was because we have no idea how long it will be before the Professor comes to get him. We could have missed him already. What to do? Ahh! I sent a screenshot of the Professor to the printer. "You stay here, and I mean STAY here! I'm going to the store where we met. I won't be long." I picked up the print, put on my jacket and hurried out.

Arriving at the store, a small 24 hour organic grocery store, I went to the service desk. I recognized the manager. I explained to him that the man in the photograph may come in looking for someone; that person is staying with me, and would they please call me (I gave him my cell number) if he does come in as it's very important that I not miss him. He assured me he would. That was the best I could do so I went home to find Murdoch dozing in the chair.

I sat on the sofa and went over the last few hours. I pinched myself, I was convinced this was a dream – but it was so real. What happens now? What if the Professor doesn't come? What if he does come? How will I find out if everything works out in the end? I guess I'll have to wait for the Season 11 premiere!

This is a somewhat different story for me. Please let me know what you think of it. Reviews are always welcome!