The next morning memories came to me slowly. At first when I slipped back into consciousness I had forgotten the events of yesterday and stretched out expecting to find my extra pillows. Instead there was stone. And now you mention it, something that smelled suspiciously of hay pricked my nose. I lifted my hands to my face and registered two things simultaneously. My hands smelled of horse, a smell I hadn't smelled for at least fifteen years and secondly that every inch of skin my fingers touched hurt because of bruising.
I let out an involuntary groan when I remembered. Not a dream. I slowly sat up, keeping my eyes tightly closed, expecting the stinging pain in my head to reappear. It was more of a dull ache now, uncomfortable but nothing I couldn't handle. I tried to open my eyes. The one that was swollen shut yesterday, felt even more so today. The other eye however was fine, and I found that its vision was fully restored. All in all, I'd count it as an improvement.
For the first time since waking up in the desert yesterday I looked around me. I was inside a cave, I knew that. My bedroll was sheltered by two large curtains on the side, the open front allowed me to look at the center space.
The middle area was bustling with activity. Women were hunched over wooden basins scrubbing wet clothes. A few men were carrying a large pot inside, that filled the whole space with the smell of porridge. Others sat at wooden tables, playing games, cleaning guns, or just chatting companionably.
Besides the fact that these people were living in a cave, one thing stood out to me. Their clothes. They looked like something I'd only ever seen in old western movies. The women were dressed in large, cumbersome, dresses that cinched tight at the waist and pressed their breasts up high on their chests. The men wore shirts,vests, and pants, which would be so strange if it weren't for the riding boots with spurs and holsters hanging low on their waist. Come on now, some ever wore full on cowboy hats.
Where the hell did I end up? In some strange religious commune? My mother, who immigrated from Italy before I was born, was a rather devout catholic. But that was something that never resonated with me. What if they start chanting and praying? What was I supposed to do then?
I seriously contemplated turning around to go back to sleep again. Wishing this was some strangely realistic nightmare. But before I could, I saw Lenny standing up from one of the tables. He approached me with a large, toothy smile. "Well, look who is finally awake. So nice to have you join the land of the living. Come on out, breakfast has just been brought in."
I took a deep breath, pulled my battered clothes to a more presentable state and crawled out of my small sleeping space with all the dignity I could muster. When I had followed Lenny to a large wooden table and turned to sit, I noticed the suspicious eyes on me. The cave had turned dead silent, and the hostility I felt aimed at me was something I had never experienced before.
I looked up and caught the eye of a small boy who was looking at me with wary distrust, hidden in the skirts of his mother. I tried to give him a comforting smile, but the pain in my lip reminded me I probably looked more like a fierce pirate than anything else. The boys was turned away from me by his mother, who shot me an angry look.
For the life of me, I couldn't understand these people's reactions. And even Lenny seemed to feel a bit self conscious when he yelled with unconvincing bluster. "Come on! 'S not like you never seen a woman before. Back to work with ya!"
But it worked, somewhat. People started going about their tasks again. However their bodies where aimed towards me, I saw more than a few hands twitch over holstered guns. Poised and ready to shoot at any minute now.
"I apologize for my brothers and sister, Miss Cat. Is just, well.." - the boy rubbed his neck - "The last few weeks we have been attacked by the O'Driscolls more than usual. They haven't found out where we are yet. But that's just a matter of time."
In retrospect, I should have asked Lenny who the O'Driscolls were. Maybe that could have prepared me better for what would happen. But at this time, I just didn't care. I was still under the impression that I needed to regain my strength, wait out my week so I would be allowed to leave and then be on my merry way home.
This assumption was shattered immediately after Lenny handed me a newspaper. I knew that the gesture was intended well, he gave me something to focus on, other than the people around me. But the impact was devastating.
I looked at the front page headline: Explosion in Factory Saint Denis. Two hundred dead, more injured. I turned my gaze to the date in the upper left corner. April 12th, 1899. I did a double take.1899? 1899?! What was this, some kind of sick joke? Where these people so invested in their little period piece that they even read old newspapers?
"Are you alright Miss Cat? Did you know people there?" Lenny asked. I searched his face for anything that would clue me in this was just a game. Then, slowly images of our ride back to the cave yesterday started dawning on me. Horse and carriages, other people who were dressed the same as these, an old western style town. I needed some fresh air. I needed to breathe.
When I shot up from my seat I didn't fail to notice the reactions of the people around me. Recklessly I ran towards the entrance anyway. I'd still say it was mere dumb luck they didn't put a bullet in me, right then and there. But I made it, through the rounded corridor, out in the bright and punishing sunlight. Out in the desert canyon.
"Jesus christ" I muttered out of breath, while rubbing my hands over my chest. "Jesus fucking christ!" My breath started hitching high in my throat, near hyperventilation.
I heard the thud and clink of spurred boots behind me.
"You alright there, ma'am?" Of course he had come to check if I hadn't ran off.
I wheeled around and grabbed the front of Arthur's shirt. "Where am I?!" I yelled in his face.
His steely gaze on my hands and then my eyes were a clear warning to let go. I didn't care. "Where AM I! You Bastard. What sick fucking game are you playing?!" I pushed his chest with all my strength, he didn't move an inch.
"As much as I love to save maidens in distress, especially ones so elegant and fine spoken as yourself, I have other things to do." Already his sarcasm started to get on my nerves.
His one hand encircles both of mine that were still ripping at the fabric of his clothes. "Get. In. Side." He tried to yank me back towards the cave.
"Fuck you, get inside. You get inside! Where am I?!" This moment, Dear Reader, should be taken as proof that when one's panic is worse enough, all eloquence of speech goes right out of the window. Or at least for me.
His hand moved towards his pistol: "I ain't joking, miss. Get yourself in, right now!"
Tears started burning in my eyes. "Please, just tell me where I am. I want to go home." I hugged my arms around me and sank on the ground. I started muttering, mostly to myself. "I just want to be home, in my apartment, in my bed, in 2019.."
"Well, isn't that just grand. We seems to have adopted a basketcase." In the same fashion as yesterday, he grabbed my upper arm and started dragging me towards the camp. "Maybe Lenny was right, you did hit your head pretty hard."
"Arthur, please. What year is it?" Even when asking the question, I dreaded the answer.
Arthur's jaw clenched, I was annoying him. I knew. With a long suffering sigh he said: "It's 1899, ma'am."
It was the truth. Deep in my bones I knew it to be the truth. Jesus fucking christ.