In A Different Time

Chapter 9

I laughed. I laughed hard. Tears were forming in my eyes. This James Ryder lookalike is a real comedian. The three men looked at me like I was a crazy person. Maybe I was getting a little crazy. I think its reasonable after what I experienced.

"Okay, that's pretty good! You got me! I'm totally punked!" I giggled. My laughter ceased when I saw his solemn face. "I mean... come on. You can't be serious?"

"Believe me, I am." Mr. Lookalike crossed his arms across his chest. 

"You can stop the act right now, okay? I'm convinced, hands down to you. You would make a perfect James Ryder. You got his looks and I guess the talent too."

"No ones acting here, alright? Believe it or not, I am James Ryder and you are in my home trespassing. If you think acting clueless makes you get out of things, you're not fooling anyone. So, I'm going to ask again. How the hell did you get into my property?"

I stood there frozen. The guy was scowling at me; breathing heavily. It's almost like he's being serious. It was almost believable. I glanced at the two other men and their eyes showed pity and confusion. Scanning the whole room if there was a camera insight. There wasn't. 

They can't be serious, right?

My hands started fidgeting. I clenched my hands into fists trying to stop the rising anxiety. There was a newspaper on the table and I quickly snatched it.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" I ignored him and focused on the paper in my hands. I looked at the date and February 10, 1955 was written on it. My hands were trembling as I read the news. The year 1955 keeps showing on every page. Then, my eyes wandered again in the room. That's when I noticed the interior of the house is different from the modern designs I know. Walls covered with red wallpaper. Windows closed by striped drapes. There was a piano at the far end with a stand lamp beside it. A huge white couch behind me with a matching recliner. The guy's furniture are like the ones you see in vintage stores. Their clothes were like the ones I saw in old films. Mr. Lookalike was wearing a white T-shirt tucked-in to his blue jeans. Martin was wearing, long sleeved polo shirt with a vest on and a red tie, brown flannel pants and shiny black shoes same thing with George but he didn't have a tie and vest on. Everything screams 1950s.

"No, no, no...," I murmured to myself. I dropped the newspaper and it landed on my feet. My lungs constricting as I find it hard to breathe. "This is impossible. This can't be real. This has to be a dream! A hallucination! It has to be! It has to be..."

"What are you on about now?" His eyes narrowed at me. His gaze softened seeing my panic stricken state. "Are you feeling alright?" 

My emotions are all over the place. I couldn't hear what he was saying. All I could hear is the loud ringing in my ears and my thumping heart. My vision started to blur and I tried to find something to lean on as my knees weakened. Muffled voices neared me and I backed away trying to get some space. I was breathing heavily and clutched my chest to calm my wild beating heart. My body couldn't take it anymore and it shut down. Before my body could hit the wooden floor, someone caught me just in time. I raised my eyes and they connected with a pair of worried green eyes. An urgent voice was the last thing I heard before darkness took over.

I didn't know how long I was out. I could hear people whispering and having a silent conversation. Slowly, I opened my eyes and was met with the cream colored ceiling. My hands wandered on the soft blanket beneath me and realized I was lying on a bed. A very soft bed. Moving my head to the side, Mr. Lookalike was leaning by the window and was intently listening to someone. 

He felt my gaze on him and his eyes turned towards my direction. Mr. Lookalike stood away from the window and came up to me.

Maybe I should stop calling him Mr. Lookalike since he is James Ryder.