Double Back

Farm Boy

She began to walk through the field with her bike on her hip beside her. The smell of cows lingering in the wind, she can almost taste it every time the wind sweeps her hair over her face. She continues through the field until she hears an odd sound behind her, when she turns to look, she is amazed by what she sees, a cart being towed by a donkey. No one has these any more, the last time she saw a sight like this she must have been no older than nine. She called to the man in the driver's seat.
"Excuse me sir, I seem to have taken a fall. Could you point me in the direction of Haselbech?"
When the old man replied, it was in the most frightening accent Sybil had ever heard. "Miss, I reckon you hit your head. There ain't no place that fancy sound'n for a hundred miles. Welcome to Louisville Alabama."
He then took off in his carriage with nothing but dust in his trail. What the old man said was the most frightening thing she had heard in a long time. What he said was impossible, she was in England not America and most certainly not in Alabama of all places. She though about continuing down the path from which the old man had come but then changed her mind as she had no idea how long it would be until she reached civilization. She decided that her best bet would be to take shelter in the old red barn that she could see on the horizon, so she continued down the field to a small crooked path and hopped on her bike.
It was so dark, she couldn't even see her hand in front of her face and she had no idea how long she'd been traveling. It felt like days but it must have only been a few hours. When she looked up it seemed as if she could see every star in the sky, wherever she was it was beautiful. When she got to the top of a small hill she saw a small light glistening on the side of the barn. As she approached it she realized that it wasn't actually a tinny red barn, but a huge farm. Exhausted and swore she rode as fast as she could towards the farm. When she arrived she couldn't stand so when the giant, red barn door finally slid open she collapsed onto the floor of hay.
Sybil awoke to a round metal cylinder in her face, when she looked past it she realized that it was not a metal cylinder but a barrel of a gun. The man holding this old styled gun must have been no more than 17, with long red hair and a crook that went deep into his nose right between his two eyes.
"State your name, age, rank and intentions." He said in a deep voice with the slightest bite of a southern American accent.
"Well good morning to you too!" She said in her most sarcastic voice.
"Missy I have no time for your games I will not be holding hostages in my barn and certainly not nearly naked ones." His mouth turned into a small smile as he looked her up and down. She couldn't understand what he meant for she was fully dressed.
" I'm Sybil Walter, I am 19 years of age and my soul intention was to rest."
When he looked more closely at her legs he saw cuts and bruises that needed tending to, so he invited her into the house which was about 15 minutes from the barn. While Sybil climbed up the hill she began to look over this mystery man. He clearly work on the farm as his muscles bulged out of his shirt and with every step he took she could see his muscles contracting. On multiple occasions she asked for his name but each time he redirected it to a conversation about her.
When they reached the top of the hill she could see a panoramic view of the country side, in the distance was the silhouette of a town, there are a few farm fields and just at the bottom of the hill is the giant gray house that at one time was probably pearl white with spotless windows, but on the day she stood atop that hill it was a gray, dirty and huge house. As they begin to defend the hill once again she asks his name.
"Sybil, right? Honey, when a strange woman shows up in your barn half naked, talking all crazy like and has no idea where she is, you wait to tell her your name."
"But how does one thank a kind stranger without first knowing their name?"
"Chase, it's Chase."
Sybil had never heard such and odd name before, it definitely sounded American to her. But what did she know about America? She was the only daughter of a black smith so they never had much money and they never even dreamed of traveling, but what is this as it is surly not a dream. Could she be dead, is this heaven?
When they arrived on the front porch they could hear massive clanging coming from the kitchen, when Chase opened the door, he revealed a large hallway with two sets of staircases and about four different doors leading off into other rooms. The door furthest to the back open up and a young lady who looked around twenty five entered the room holding a massive pan.
"My god little Chasey what did you bring home here?" She said while licking her lips.
"This is Sybil, Sybil meet my big sister Julia." Chase said with an annoying look on his face .
"Oh honey you can call me Jill, come on upstairs and we can get you cleaned up and nice and dressed."
Sybil now stood in front of a tall dirty mirror in the guest room of the house. She caressed the scratchy fabric of her dress and tugged on the corset that was way to tight and pushed her breasts so high that she no longer had sensation. Her black hair that she usually tied tight on top of her head was now flowing down her back in a headband the stretched the long of her head. She could have sworn Americans dressed at least somewhat like they did in England but instead apparently they dress like people from the 1800s. After another while of admiring the face staring back at her through the reflection, she grew hungry and descended the stairs towards the kitchen. Once she arrived she found it empty, except for a pot of soup boiling on the stove. On the counter she found the local newspaper, the head line read that they would be passing some kind of law about live stock and transportation. This was strange to Sybil as in England they used mostly cars now, why would there be a need for such a law? When she finished flipping through the paper she set it down gently on the table face up. When she did that she caught a glance at the date, no that can't be right she thought to herself, it's not May and most importantly it's not the year 1823. When Jill strolled threw the door into the kitchen she was alarmed by the look on Sybil's face.
"Honey what's wrong." She asked astonished.
"What year are we in again Jill."
"Oh, poor baby, how hard did you hit your head? It's the year 1823."
"1823!? Are you sure that's right."
Jill nodded her head without the slightest curiosity as to what was going on. Sybil left the room in a panic, she pushed open any random door she found until she found herself perched on a rusty old bed in what must have been the old maid courtiers. That can't be possible, she thought to herself, I was born in the year 1920 I'm now 19 it can't be the year 1823.