Unconsciousness is weird. It's sleeping and it's not. You are indeed floating in a sea of black.
"Hey."
Just floating.
"Hey!"
Swimming.
"HEY LADY MOVE IT!"
Huh?
I open my eyes quickly and close them again as a sharp bright light hits me. I must be in the ER , maybe pre-op or heaven.
Then I realize I am freezing.
I open my eyes slowly again and see an angry face looking down at me. A man in uniform, a cop, NYPD, I am saved!
"Will you get going already! You are going to catch your death out here!"
Or maybe not.
I try to sit up. The cop rolls his eyes at me and lends me a hand. He pulls me to my feet.
"Thank God you are here!" I said. "There was this man attacking me!"
He looks at me oddly.
"Attacking you huh?"
"Yeah, I mean can't you tell!? I said.
"Excuse me?"
"What?"
"No offense ma'am, but have you been drinking today or something?"
I look at him strangely.
"I just got off work so no." I answer.
"Doing what?" He asks.
"I'm a nurse, at St. Lucius." I said.
He gives me an even stranger look.
"Right and I'm Santa Claus."
"Huh?"
"St. Lucius is just a steel foundation right now." He answers. "There is no way you are a nurse there."
Okay this is weird. This cop must be high or something.
"Not true!" I said. "St. Lucius has been around for nearly fifty years."
He crosses his arm.
"Ma'am I am in no mood for games today." He said. "So I'll tell you right now. I found you sleeping on this bench and St. Lucius is just a pile of beams. And since you obviously seem coherent enough to carry on this ridiculous conversation with me, you are probably well enough to head on home, that is if you have one."
I shake my head.
"Look I am telling the truth." I said. "This guy, Tom Fredricks. His wife had a baby at St. Lucius. I was their RN. The guy is a complete whack job and he tried to beat the living snot out of me! He needs to be arrested or else he could go after his wife and son!"
The cop still looks at me like I sprouted two heads.
"I can prove it!"
I look around for my messenger bag.
"Crap that bastard must have taken it!"
"Taken what?"
"My bag!" I exclaim. "It has all my personal stuff in it."
"You mean that straw bag there?"
I look.
"No, no, that's not it!" I said. "It's a messenger bag!"
"Ma'am that's the only bag that's there."
"Well it's not mine."
"Then whose is it?"
"I don't know, someone who left it here!?"
"You are really starting to push it lady." He said angrily.
I growl.
"Again I can prove this is not my bag!"
I grab it and open it up.
"Heh...see I don't carry all this makeup to work! I'm a nurse, I'd sweat all this stuff off!"
"Uh huh."
I rummage further and pull out a shaggy, leathery wallet.
"And this is definitely not my wallet!" I exclaim. "See!"
He takes the wallet from me and opens it.
"Matilda Jameson."
"Yes, Matilda James-WHAT!?"
"Looks like you." He said.
I grab the wallet from his hand. Sure enough there is a New York Drivers License with my face and bad hair. My address is the same though.
"This isn't right!" I said. "This says I was born in 1943! I was born in 1983! I am definitely not sixty nine years old, I am going to be thirty next year!"
"You mean you were born nineteen years from now?"
Say what.
"Nineteen years from now?" I said. "Nineteen years from now is 2031."
"Ma'am do you need to see a doctor?" He asks.
"Yes, I just got the crap beaten out of me!"
He just stares.
"Didn't I?"
I grab a compact from the bag and open it. Thinking I should have the face of the grapefruit actually reveals my face being okay. Actually I realized I didn't feel any pain at all. Maybe I was already in surgery.
Or dead.
"Miss, I think its time you get home now." He said. "Get some rest or if you really need to see a doctor I can escort you to the hospital.
This guy probably wants to put me in the loony bin so I politely decline seeing as how I feel okay. Maybe if I just play along with this, I'll wake up and see William's sweet face next to me and find out everything from Fredricks to know was just a bad dream.
"Sure." I said.
The officer politely hails a cab for me, which looks like something out of a time machine. Huh maybe New York is doing some sort of history tour. I hop and give the address to the cabbie. Settling back I relax and try to forget what just happened. We pull up to my apartment and the cabbie charges actually quite less than I was expecting. Sweet guy. I get out and head inside. As I get in, I sense everything is different. For one thing, there is no security desk...or security guard. I decide to skip the mail and head to my apartment. Then I see that there is no elevator. Okay, did I miss a flier about renovations being done? I take the stairs quickly and finally get to my humble abode. Digging out the key I get inside, close the door and take a breath.
Then nearly faint.
This is definitely not my apartment. None of the furniture in there is mine. Mine's got a Japanese Bohemian style while this whole place is contemporary Bohemian. I grab the door and look at the number. It matches.
"Rigby, Rocky!" I yell. "Mommy's home."
No answer.
"Rigby, Rocky!"
Okay, just take a deep breath. They are probably hiding. No doubt pissed off that I missed their evening and morning meals. I am just going to look in the cupboards right now.
"And find nothing!" I yell. "Except old school food! What the hell, did Andy Warhol raid my place?! What is this, Punked?!"
I don't find any cat kibbles either. You know what, those two probably just decided to go out on a hunt. They do that from time to time. So I think sleep, sleep is good. I am just going to do that even though that is not my bed or my things and pray I am not going to end up like Goldilocks.
I remove my jacket and hat. I am surprised to be that bundled up for an Autumn day. I dig in the drawers for some pajamas and find a baby doll top with matching shorts. I hope the lady of the house doesn't get mad, but I am not going to sleep in these clothes, which I don't remember wearing today. I just crawl in bed and nod off.
I wake up a few hours later to the phone ringing. I stir and grab the ugly phone on the nightstand.
"Hello.
"Matilda, where the hell are you?"
"What?"
"You are late!"
"Late?" I utter thinking its the hospital. "Today's my day off."
An angry sigh.
"Are you stoned or something?" The voice tells me. "Did you honestly forget that tonight is one of the biggest nights in history!"
"Columbus Day?"
"Oh my God Matilda." The voice tells me. "Just sober up and get your behind to CBS Studios! They are going to be here anytime now!"
"They, CBS Studios..what?"
"Just get here already!"
They hang up.
I sit on the bed perplexed.
"CBS Studios." I utter. "Maybe they confused me with another Matilda. Then I blink and everything comes flooding back and holy crap I am still in hell.
"This doesn't make sense." I utter. So I decide to snoop though the minute I get out of bed I am freezing. Since when is October this cold. I grab an ugly robe off of the bathroom door and start my hunt. Again, none of this is my stuff. The clothes, the makeup, the furniture, hell even the music is all vinyl! My cellphone is missing, my ipod, even my scrubs!
Then I head over to the tiny desk where it looks like all the papers are kept. My name is on the envelopes, but they aren't anyone I use. I pull open a drawer to reveal a certificate.
"Miss Mimi's School of Cosmetology!" I yell. "I am not a cosmetologist! But in black and white, it says I am. Plus it say I graduated just two years ago in 1962."
"Oh God now I know how Kathleen Turner felt." I whine. Then I realize something.
"CBS Studios...they...biggest night in history."
I spot a calendar on the fridge. I stumble over to it. On it the date is circled February 7th, 1964. E.S.
"Oh my god." I say and slip down to the floor.
"I don't think I am in 2012 anymore."
