Chapter Two: Eat Your Heart Out, Doc Brown

As quickly as it had happened, Theresa felt a sense of bodily awareness, she didn't bother to open her eyes; she could already feel her mother hovering over her body. She must've been sent to the hospital. Her hands were folded on top her chest and she could feel it rise and fall with each breath. A female voice cleared its throat and sneezed.

"Please, not now mother." Her throat was raw, and her voice came out as a mere whisper.

"Pardon me?" Theresa's eyes shot open, as her eyes danced in skull as they darted through the room, at her bedside sat a beautiful girl, a striking face and golden blonde hair piled elegantly on top her head. She wore one of the most beautiful dresses Theresa had ever seen, for a second she squinted in confusion.

"I'm sorry, I assumed." Theresa started. The girl smiled warmly and chuckled.

"Oh I trust if I had taken that tumble I would assume I was my mother as well. My name Is Lady Charlotte Cornwallis, but you may call me Charlotte if you wish."

Now just wait a goddamn second here. Theresa's eyes shot wildly. The whole room reeked of money, ornately decorated, it just screamed 'money to burn', and then there was the issue of Charlotte: she looked like she just came from the renaissance fair or something. This whole situation just didn't feel…right. Groaning, she covered her face with hands; palms rubbing her eyes. Suddenly it all made sense…where was John Quinones? This had to be What Would You Do? No….It was much to elaborate a scheme. Charlotte cleared her throat again loudly.

"Oh right, I'm sorry I'm Theresa." Theresa smiled awkwardly, as she looked it to Charlotte's brown eyes.

"That's a lovely name!" Charlotte gushed earnestly.

"Thank…you…It's umm French…I think." Things were really getting uncomfortable. Obviously some pycho kidnapped her somehow and was living in some sort of 18th century fantasy land, and Theresa decided she didn't want any part of it.

"Look, umm this is a pretty nice set up you've got going on here…. But if you don't mind I'm just going to;" Theresa struggled to sit up in bed as her head throbbed; it felt like there were little elves inside her skull; spelunking. Charlotte firmly placed a hand on each shoulder and pushed Theresa down back into the pillows, Theresa's eyes bulged in panic. "Please don't hurt or dismember me! I swear I play along; it's ye olden days I swear!" Theresa blurted as she thrashed beneath Charlotte, who all but jumped back in shock.

"Miss. Theresa are you alright?" She touched her pale hand to Theresa's forehead; "You are a little warm I'm going to go get the doctor. I'll be quick, I promise" Theresa's eyes were still wide and she watched Charlotte leave, as soon as the door clicked she all but threw the comforter and sheets off her body, her eyes bulged any wider; if possible, when she realized they had taken damn clothes! These people were crazy…like John Wayne Gacey crazy and she wasn't sticking around to find out what happens.
Her bare feet touched the cool hardwood and a shiver ran down her spine, testing her weight on one foot, and then the other. She seemed alright. She thought she could make it.


Charlotte hurriedly bustled her father and Doctor Hamilton into Theresa's room, only to find her gone and the window wide open. Her chocolate brown widened as she turned to her father in shock.

"She was just here, awake and talking." The good doctor walked over to the window he looked out and then tilted his head down. Chuckling he held up a rope that had been made out of bedding.

"Looks like we have a runaway."

"Now why on Earth would she runaway? You offered her help shelter if it's wasn't for the dragoons she would still be lying out in the damned woods" Cornwallis said haughtily his hand folded across his chest. "You think she might have been a rebel? "Charlotte chuckled.

"I doubt it, she seemed scared and confused. With the fever and everything else could be very frightening indeed."

"I'll have my men keep an eye out for her, dear. "He kissed his daughter on the head stroking a piece of hair out of her eyes.

"Thank you, papa." Bowing his head the Doctor started for the door, before turning back.

"Don't worry; Lady Charlotte with a concussion like that she won't get far."


Charlotte spent most of her days around the Fort, she had taken up needle point; and was becoming quite good; even if she did say so herself. She sat in the General's office working on her newest piece as her father seemed to poor himself into work. He was brilliant really. She couldn't help but worry though; any woman should not be wondering around alone especially without her wits about her. Rebels were quite uncivilized and God only knows…She shook the thought to the far reaches of her mind. Why did she think that she was going to 'dismember' her? It truly made no sense. A young private ran into the office, shockingly not even taking time to announce himself.

"General, my Lady, We have located the girl." The private seemed to pant; he hunched over his hands on his knees.

"Oh Thank Heavens!" Charlotte jumped out of her rocking chair; quickly tossing her project on the seat.


Theresa could feel something…well damp and cold, being pressed against her face. Groaning loudly she pushed it away, trying to open her eyes.

"No dear, you must rest." A male voice soothed.

"Shhh dear, Doctor Hamilton will have you all sorted in no time." A female voice cooed. Relaxing into the soft bed beneath her she sighed. Everything hurt, even her hair hurt.

"Ugh, Thank God. I had a horrible nightmare I went back in the past…it was terrible and there was this lady…"

"Shhhh, do not worry about a thing, you are perfectly safe back here in good old 1777." Her heart skipped a beat. Sitting up with a start she slammed her fore head into the poor older doctor, "Ahh' he groaned covering the side of his head with his hand. "Well, I see you have no concern about keeping your brain in good condition. " he muttered.

"Darling, please relax, you mustn't get too excited." The young women she recognized as 'Charlotte' hushed pushing her back down in the overstuffed mattress. What the hell had happened? Where the hell was this? When was she going to wake up? Theresa's eyes bounced around in their sockets, as she tried to take everything in. It was the same room. The old man who they seemed to insist was a doctor stood at her bedside, still rubbing the spot that they had head-butted. Oh God, he even had mutton chops. God help her. 'Charlotte' still as beautiful as earlier…. They bounced to a man who stood over in the corner, He was large…a bit rolley poley, but overall he had a very 'distinguished' look about him. How in the hell was she going to get out this? What was she going to say?

Hi I'm from 2011? Yeah fat chance….I'll end up in some kind of old timey asylum. Let's not try that out. She reached a shaky hand to tuck her long hair behind her ear, and felt how damp, matted and generally disgusting it was. She turned red as she felt a wave of embarrassment rolled in. She closed her eyes hoping to just go back to sleep.

"Theresa," Charlotte's voice called, she was closer, and Theresa felt the mattress give as she sat down next to her. "Theresa, open your eyes dear." When a heavy groan and a bit of hesitation she finally forced her eyes to meet Charlottes.

"Can you tell me a bit about your accident?" The doctor found his voice again.

"Accident? "She croaked. She racked her brain, trying to think of a solution to her problem. Great Scott! Yeah, eat your heart out doc brown. She fought the urge to chuckle, the knots in her stomach twisted. Settling on the only plan she could think of; she set it into motion.

"Yes, your accident." Charlotte earned a confused look for the girl. "You don't remember? Thank heavens; the privates had been running drills when they had…." Charlotte started.

"You were found in the brush, dear, my officers tell me it looked like you had been there for days." Rolley poley spoke up. Nodding dumbly, Theresa prayed her plan would work. If she learned anything from her love of Daytime Soap Operas she knew that anyway to really get out of a jam, was just to claim you don't remember.

"I'm sorry I don't know..." She rubbed her sore head, and acted upset. "It's like..."She waved her hand limply in front of her face. "A fog….just blank" she finished. Not half bad, maybe she should have been an actor.

"I was afraid of this…" the doctor turned to rolley poley. "I have only seen maybe twice in my life but sometimes when a person is concussed, they...loose pieces of memory." Doctor leaned closer to her, she had to fight the maddening urge to smack his face away from hers, and he was so close she could feel his breath, which, she noted, smelled like booze.

"Do you know your name?" he seemed to be staring her eyes.

"Of course!" she huffed indignantly. She allowed a pregnant pause. "It is…..I have a name."

"You just cannot seem to remember it?" the doctor added.

"Theresa, your name is Theresa!" Charlotte stated matter of factly, looking quite pleased with herself. She turned her attention to rolley poley "She told me so herself earlier, father." Charlotte looked over her shoulder at the much older man.

"All right dear, you should get your rest." The doctor pushed back, and seemingly tucked her in. "General, may I have a word?" Theresa watched with mild curiosity as the men left the room leaving her with Charlotte…alone.

"There, there, it'll all be alright." Charlotte patted her knee.


"So what of her memories?" The general asked impatiently, his arms crossed over his chest. The doctor seemed to fidget nervously.

"I do not know, sir… I myself have only seen two cases like this my entire life…" The doctor turned his eyes heavenward.

"And what of them?"

"Well, one was when I was just a boy…a boy who lived near us was thrown from his horse hit his head on a rock…much like Lady Theresa, lost all his memories…but with time he regained them." The doctor watched as the general paced behind his desk, he rubbed his chin pensively. He stopped and gave the doctor a nod to continue.

"The other was a woman much older, I'd say in her 30's, became concussed, only lost some of her memories…but they never returned."

"What shall I do with her? I cannot in good conscience send a girl that defenseless out into such an…uncivilized place." General Cornwallis settled himself into the chair, propping an elbow on the desk he cradled his chin. Seemingly deep in thought.

"Allow the brain to heal, and hopefully in due time we will all have the answers that we seek."