I'll Be Back

Two

I fell onto the ground coughing. I began to hate my future self. Just as I began to get up from the cold concrete alleyway my bag fell and hit me on the head. I heard my older self laugh at me at bit. "Shut up. This already just happened to you." My future self then shut up. "I have to go. Good luck." She threw the pad on the ground, the only way back, and stepped onto it. "Wait!" I cried. Too late. The red flash had returned and she was gone. I broke down. This could not be happening. I was stuck in 1956. I can't be in a time that was 60 years ago- this must be a dream! It has to be. It simply has to be. What would Nana have done? What would she have done? It then suddenly popped in my head that she would've been 29 around this time, she would have a house. I'm pretty sure it's still Liverpool, too. I peeked out from the alley to see that the building right beside me was the old corner store owned by that elderly couple. Mr and Mrs Ramston, wasn't it? I had no idea. Stepping out of the alleyway I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. Scanning the surroundings I began to vaguely identify everything. Sheesh, not much has changed since the 50's. I soon glanced back at Ramston's Corner Foods to see a group of girls, probably around my age, maybe a bit older, laughing at me with a couple boys around them. "Look at that freak!" said one, obviously making it loud enough for me to hear. "She dresses like a train wreck!" said another. I laughed. If this was the best they could do to try to break me, they were sadly mistaken. "I don't dress like a train wreck," I said promptly. "I simply am trying not to look anything like you. I don't want to be mistaken for one of you folks." I turned around and headed the other way.

I came across a small diner, so I entered it, making a small bell ring. "Welcome." said the man at the counter. I sat down in front of him. It must've been odd, a fourteen-year-old girl, with green hair and blue, almost grey eyes sitting there in front of them. "Do you have a phonebook?" I asked. He nodded and reached somewhere under the counter. After a few seconds of rummaging he produced a large book. "Thank you." I managed to say. Opening the book, I searched for my Nana's name, Mary LaCoupe. Finding it actually quite quickly I nearly pulled out my phone, but I remembered the time. I pulled out my notepad, which still seemed out of place, and wrote down the number and address. The waiter was gone from his place in front of me, but he was nearby. "Excuse me," I called. He came over. "Here you go, I'm done using it. Thank you, again." I slid off the seat and walked towards the door. "Anytime." said the man after me. I was starting to like 1956 Liverpool, now.

I stared back down at the paper, finally realizing it was my actual address back in 2013, still. This was useless. I crumpled the paper up and threw it into a nearby trashcan. I stared at the pavement then looked up. Walking across the street I began making my way towards Nana's house. I would have to call her Mary for the time being, though. Knocking on the oddly familiar door I waited for her to answer.

"Hello?" she asked, opening the door. "Yes, what can I do for you?" she then said, looking down at me. "Nan- Mary LaCoupe, my name is Roxanne. I come from.." wait, country I come from, country I come from.... Think, think! "I come from France. I have newly immigrated because my parents are dead." Mary slowly nodded. "Do you not have anywhere to stay?" I shook my head. "I guess you can stay here for awhile..." She half asked. I slowly walked in and set my bag on the mat next to the door. "I can show you to the guest room," she offered. "That'd be great, thank you." I replied, although I already knew where it was. As we climbed up the stairs she turned her head towards me. "You have very good English for a French girl." she remarked. Nodding curtly, I matched her gaze. "It took many years of work to finally master it." I said promptly. "Here it is." Mary motioned towards the spare room. "Merci." I said. I would have to pretend to be French, and even speak in French a bit. "Uh, you're welcome." She replied hesitantly. Closing the door as she went back downstairs I emptied my bag. Noticing it wasn't the spare room then, but my own room. I unpacked my backpack and laid on my bed. I would have to go to school eventually, but it was summer now, so it was okay. I picked up my phone from the bedside table and stared at my reflection in the black screen. My eyes shot up as I heard a knocking on the front door of the house. Placing my ear onto the floor I made out a conversation. "Why, hello, Mimi! Come im, come in. I have quite the story to tell you, too." Standing up slowly it came back to me that an elderly woman named Mimi Smith lived next door a few years ago, until she moved to a retirement home, but Nana used to talk to her. I mean Mary. I need to get used to that. "Would you like some tea?" Nana- Mary, asked Mimi. "Yes- of course. I would rather have it quickly though, John is at home alone and you know what he does when he's alone." I heard Nana laugh. "Trouble." Finished Mimi. Wait, I can't remember a John ever living with Mimi. I thought she always lived alone. She's never mentioned him either, it's odd. "So, about the story," began Nana. "A little French girl came to my door earlier today, she says she moved here from France, her parents are both dead." I heard a gasp of sympathy from Mimi, and Nana then continued. "But the girl looks a lot like me, I've noticed. Mostly how I looked when I was about 12 or 13. I'm pretty sure that's how old she is. Her name was Roxanne, she says." I smacked myself in the face, remembering my resemblance to Nana that when they were alive, noted often. "Roxanne..." pondered Mimi aloud. "Now that's not a name you hear every day." I heard Nana chuckle. "Mimi isn't very generic, either."

"Touché."