Chapter 2
Anna awakened in a large, soft bed. She heard someone shift near the foot of the bed. "Wh-who's there?" She asked?
"Ah, so you're awake now, good." It was Dr. Watson.
"Could you please give me my bag? It's rather large, and has some books in it. I'd like to do some reading."
"Reading? How?"
"Um, Braille. It's a system of raised dots. It's how everyone that's blind reads now."
"Just when is 'now'?"
"Uh, March 22, 2003." I think. . .
"I think you've had one shock too many today, child. You've clearly addled your brains."
"I have not! I- but-" Anna was getting very confused. "Ok, then. If it's not 2003, then when is it?
Child, you need rest. I'll call a hospital. Holmes, come here and do me a favor!" There were some footsteps, and then came a new voice, an abrasive sounding tenor. "Watson, really. I'm in the middle of - Oh, the girl's up then, is she?
"Yes she is and I believe that she is more ill than we thought."
"Excuse me," broke in Anna, "but I'm not sick, nor do I need to go to a hospital. I'm fine!" She said defiantly.
"Really then," said the tenor, as if he were addressing a very young child. "And what is your name again, little girl?"
"Ok, first off, I'm not little. I'm 15! Jesu Christo, do I really look like I'm 5 or something!? And secondly, I never told you my name, you never asked. My name's Anna, by the way."
"All right then, Annie-"
"Anna!"
"Whatever. Anna, do you have a last name to go with that?"
"Yes, I'm Anna Moriarty. What's your name?"
"Sherlock Holmes. Did you say 'Moriarty'?"
"Yeah, you got a problem with that, Mr. Holmes?"
"Just how is it spelled?" Holmes sounded as if Anna had touched a nerve with her last statement.
"Um, M-O-R-I-A-R-T-Y. God, what is this, a spelling bee?
"Get out!" Holmes roared, causing Watson to flinch. "If you think I'm going to keep a brat belonging to that- to Professor Moriarty then-"
"Uh, sir, if I'm remembering my family's history correctly, Professor Moriarty was my great-great-great-great-grandfather."
Holmes twitched. "Are you saying what I think you're saying. . . ?"
"If you think that I'm implying that I'm from the 21st century, then yeah, you're correct."
It was Holmes' turn to faint. Only, had it harder than Anna had, because, being 6'+, he had a bit farther to fall. Anna flinched at the thud. "See," she said, "I told you I'm not crazy." She paused, then added, "I guess he doesn't handle stress so well." Watson stood still, with his jaw hanging. He was feeling quite flabbergasted by it all. He closed his mouth, opened it to say something, thought better of it, and closed his mouth again. A few minutes passed.
"Uh, Dr. Watson, don't you think he should be OK now? Maybe you should check on him." Anna suggested, trying to be helpful.
"What? Oh, yes, I probably should." Watson said, trying to regain his composure. He was still in shock. He could not believe that the girl was telling the truth. Her style of dress was quite odd. It looked almost as if she'd tried disguising herself as a boy. She even had her red hair cropped short. He had known she wasn't lying about being American, for she had the accent native to the region. He had spoken to a few Americans while working with Holmes.
Under Watson's careful ministration, Holmes started coming around. With a groan, Holmes sat up, holding his head.
"You know," Anna said, "you really should take stress management classes. You obviously can't handle stress effectively."
"Why you little - ow!" Holmes exclaimed. Anna had just hit him on the head with her cane, because he was starting to sound very violent.
"I should probably warn you I have really good aim." Anna said, matter-of-factly.
Anna awakened in a large, soft bed. She heard someone shift near the foot of the bed. "Wh-who's there?" She asked?
"Ah, so you're awake now, good." It was Dr. Watson.
"Could you please give me my bag? It's rather large, and has some books in it. I'd like to do some reading."
"Reading? How?"
"Um, Braille. It's a system of raised dots. It's how everyone that's blind reads now."
"Just when is 'now'?"
"Uh, March 22, 2003." I think. . .
"I think you've had one shock too many today, child. You've clearly addled your brains."
"I have not! I- but-" Anna was getting very confused. "Ok, then. If it's not 2003, then when is it?
Child, you need rest. I'll call a hospital. Holmes, come here and do me a favor!" There were some footsteps, and then came a new voice, an abrasive sounding tenor. "Watson, really. I'm in the middle of - Oh, the girl's up then, is she?
"Yes she is and I believe that she is more ill than we thought."
"Excuse me," broke in Anna, "but I'm not sick, nor do I need to go to a hospital. I'm fine!" She said defiantly.
"Really then," said the tenor, as if he were addressing a very young child. "And what is your name again, little girl?"
"Ok, first off, I'm not little. I'm 15! Jesu Christo, do I really look like I'm 5 or something!? And secondly, I never told you my name, you never asked. My name's Anna, by the way."
"All right then, Annie-"
"Anna!"
"Whatever. Anna, do you have a last name to go with that?"
"Yes, I'm Anna Moriarty. What's your name?"
"Sherlock Holmes. Did you say 'Moriarty'?"
"Yeah, you got a problem with that, Mr. Holmes?"
"Just how is it spelled?" Holmes sounded as if Anna had touched a nerve with her last statement.
"Um, M-O-R-I-A-R-T-Y. God, what is this, a spelling bee?
"Get out!" Holmes roared, causing Watson to flinch. "If you think I'm going to keep a brat belonging to that- to Professor Moriarty then-"
"Uh, sir, if I'm remembering my family's history correctly, Professor Moriarty was my great-great-great-great-grandfather."
Holmes twitched. "Are you saying what I think you're saying. . . ?"
"If you think that I'm implying that I'm from the 21st century, then yeah, you're correct."
It was Holmes' turn to faint. Only, had it harder than Anna had, because, being 6'+, he had a bit farther to fall. Anna flinched at the thud. "See," she said, "I told you I'm not crazy." She paused, then added, "I guess he doesn't handle stress so well." Watson stood still, with his jaw hanging. He was feeling quite flabbergasted by it all. He closed his mouth, opened it to say something, thought better of it, and closed his mouth again. A few minutes passed.
"Uh, Dr. Watson, don't you think he should be OK now? Maybe you should check on him." Anna suggested, trying to be helpful.
"What? Oh, yes, I probably should." Watson said, trying to regain his composure. He was still in shock. He could not believe that the girl was telling the truth. Her style of dress was quite odd. It looked almost as if she'd tried disguising herself as a boy. She even had her red hair cropped short. He had known she wasn't lying about being American, for she had the accent native to the region. He had spoken to a few Americans while working with Holmes.
Under Watson's careful ministration, Holmes started coming around. With a groan, Holmes sat up, holding his head.
"You know," Anna said, "you really should take stress management classes. You obviously can't handle stress effectively."
"Why you little - ow!" Holmes exclaimed. Anna had just hit him on the head with her cane, because he was starting to sound very violent.
"I should probably warn you I have really good aim." Anna said, matter-of-factly.
