The Ghost of The Lightner Museum

Chapter Eleven

The moment the door closed behind him, Aaron turned around to face me.

"What skills do you have? Any mathematics? Do you know how to read?" He asked me to my surprise. I nodded with a funny smile of confusion.

"Yes, of course. I'm a college dropout, but I mean...I'm not entirely stupid." I answered sheepishly. He frowned slightly, but nodded his head once curtly before stepping around me and walking towards a flight of straight wooden stairs positioned in front of the entryway.

He paused then and turned back to me with a questioning glance while his handed rested on the stair railing,

"You went to college? How could you afford that, but yet you have no money or clothes?"

My eyes widened as I tried to think of a response besides, "Well, you know I had a pell grant that I applied online for but that doesn't really help me since I fell back in time and believe it or not, these clothes are completely fine in the twenty-first century."--No, that answer wouldn't work here.

"My parents died...I have no relatives." I lied.

Nice save, Lilith.

He cast me a look of complete empathy.

"I understand. I am the same." He answered quietly, making me feel suddenly terrible about lying about such a heavy subject. He turned then and ascended up the stairs.

I took that moment to look around the old home with fascination. To the right of the stairs was a living area with an antique couch and fireplace in front of it. A small, dust-covered desk sat perched in the far right of the room next to a window that overlooked the street. It was swamped with colored pictures, old paintings and scribbles. There was an entire stack of canvases leaned against the desk to one side on the floor.

In the back of the living room was an archway that led to what appeared to be an incredibly old-school kitchen and pantry area. The walls were unpainted and wooden along with the floors.

All in all, Aaron's home was ancient, boring, and dingy in my opinion. It needed color...at least a vase of flowers or something, geesh.

As I continued to stare at the unfamiliar, scene around me that looked more like a movie setting, I still couldn't believe I was actually standing here in his era, in his home.

When I heard his footsteps coming back down the stairs, I turned back to look up at him. I nearly sighed in deep relief as I noticed an old dress in his hands. In my own time, I felt completely fine in my outfit, but now I just felt totally naked, like I was running around in my underwear.

"Here, see if this will fit. It was my mother's, but you look about the same size as she was." He told me as he handed me the dress. I took it, sending him a small smile as I muttered a quiet,

"Thanks...is there somewhere I can change?"

He pointed back up the stairs wordlessly before walking off towards his desk. I raised my brows at him but quickly made my way up the stairs. On the second floor, there was only one large room, an olden bedroom with a balcony in the far end.

I turned the dress over in my hands until I could find the back buttons, I tried to undo some of them before throwing the old, dark blue gown over my tank top and shorts. Trying to adjust the billowing, floor length skirt, I straightened out the thick cotton folds before awkwardly buttoning up the back of the gown. It had slightly puffed sleeves that tapered down to cuffed wrists buttons. The high neck of the gown felt scratchy against my throat, but I figured I would just have to get used to it. The midline of the dress sinched around my waist in sort of an a-line style. Perfect.