It was a month since Larry took the tablet back to New York; that night everyone at the Smithsonian accepted the fact that they would never wake up again. As the sun rose, they had welcomed the darkness. But a month later, they found themselves awake and able to move and talk again. Some of the tablet's magic had remained there, allowing them all to live again. One night, Al and Napoleon were walking around the storage unit and arguing about something when they heard a very strange sound; unsure of what it was, they looked around the area. "Hey, shortstuff," Said Al, kneeling beside a gap between a large crate and the wall. "Think I've found somethin here." In spite of the less than favorable nickname, Napoleon made his way over to Al.
"What is it?" He asked. Capon shook his head.
"Dunno, sounds like weepin to me."
"Weeping?" Said the general. He knelt down and could make out a figure in the very back of the corner. "Hello, is someone back there? Do you need assistance?" He asked. Napoleon and Al heard a small whimper from the corner.
"Hey, it's okay." Said the gangster. "We don't wanna hurt ya. Why don't ya come out so's we can see ya?"
"What in the world are you two doing?" The men jumped in shock and Napoleon had one hand instinctively reaching for his dagger as they turned around. It was Amelia Earhart, striding towards them with wide, suspicious eyes. "Please relax yourself Emperor, don't want to accidentally run someone through do we?" Napoleon's hand moved away from the dagger to rest at his side.
"There's someone back there," said Al, jabbing his thumb at the dark corner. "We dunno who's there, but whoever it is they're cryin a puddle in there."
"Crying?" Amelia walked over to the opening, Napoleon moved back for her and she peered into the gap. "Hello? Are you new here?" She asked kindly. The quiet weeping slowed slightly. "It's alright, none of us are going to hurt you, you can out." The figure began crawling towards the opening. "That's it, that's it." Encouraged Amelia. The figure was at the very mouth of the gap before it flung itself into Amelia's opened arms. It was then they saw that it was a young woman. She had lightly tanned skin and even darker brown hair, tied back in a braid. She wore a long-sleeved dress, the color of grass. The girl was freely sobbing into Amelia's shoulder and Amelia held her reassuringly tight.
"Shhh, it's alright." Amelia said, dragging her fingers along the woman's back. "You're safe now. There's no reason to be scared, I've got you." She glanced at Napoleon, who nodded, taking the hint and walked away, dragging Al with him. The woman was calming down slightly, sobs replaced by soft whimpers and hiccups. "There we are," said Amelia as the young woman sat up a little, wiping her eyes. "Now, no point beating around the bush. Could you please tell me your name?" The woman nodded and, in a small, timid voice said,
"Charlotte."
"Well Charlotte, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Amelia Earhart."
"Amelia?" Charlotte looked confused. "I'm sorry but I have never heard a name such as yours."
"Really?" Said Amelia, "When were you born?"
"May 31st 1876." Charlotte tilted her head slightly "Why?"
"Just curious." Said Amelia, thought frankly this explained quite a bit.
"Where are we?" Charlotte asked, looking around at the high ceiling of the storage unit; fluorescent lights hanging down and casting weird distorted shadows on the wall and across the floor.
"We're in a museum," said Amelia, "we're meant to be on display upstairs but we're in storage down here but we can go up if you'd like."
"I'd like that." Said Charlotte, moving closer to her slightly. "I don't very much like it down here." Amelia smiled and stood up, helping Charlotte to her feet as she went.
"Alright then, follow me." She said, "I'll introduce you to everyone upstairs. They'll be excited to meet you."