Moonlight

25

I wake in a bed, I open my eyes. The bed is not mine. I look around at the entire room. It seems like a small apartment. How the hell did I get here? The morning paper sits next to the nightstand, perfectly folded in half. A pack of 'Wild Woodbine' cigarettes sitting on the nightstand. Where the hell am I?

I swing my legs off the bed, taking some of the sheet with them. A siren sounds outside the window, I approach it, looking out into the world. Chevrolets flood the streets, they seem to be from 1946, by the body style. The only thing that seem to be on the roads are the Chevrolets, there must be a car show or something going on. A few women walk down the streets, dresses flowing to their kneecaps. All dressed the same, a small v-cut in the middle, and the sleeves cut to maybe an inch or two below their shoulders. Their hair kept in updos, mostly with a small curl outlining the front of the 'do. They all talk and laugh on their way by. Something isn't right here. I walk out of the house, stepping one foot out of the door. A few people pass by, scorning my comfy sweatpants and loose t shirt.

"Excuse me, ma'am, is your husband home?" A man curiously asks me. I shake my head and reply,

"I'm not married."

His brow raises at my statement. He smiles, then steps closer into the yard.

"A fine lady like you doesn't have a man? Say, a few of my friends are having a small gathering, would you like to join me?" He asks.

I look at him closely, I know I recognize him from somewhere. I've seen him before. Wait a minute, he's my grandfather! Oh my God, I've traveled back in time. The worst part is, I don't know how to get back out!

"Yes, let me just go out and pick up something to wear, you see, I've lost some weight and-" I ramble on and on.

"A woman like you should stay home, I will pick something up for you. For now, I want you start on a dinner." He replies.

I can't believe that I'm going to party with my grandfather! I wonder if he's met my grandmother? He backs out of the yard, swiftly turning his heels against the dirt.

"I didn't catch your name." I inform him, he smiles.

His smile is captured in every picture I've ever seen of him. Mom never really had them out since he defied the treaty and fell in love with a werewolf. Then in terms killed her. Earning him the moniker, Jagged Hearted James. Well, that's what everyone believed. He never actually killed her, he hid her away for a while until people caught on that she had died. A while later, he and my grandmother fled and moved from Arizona to Pennsylvania. While in Pennsylvania, they had my mother.

"James, and I didn't catch yours." He replies.

"It's Leah." I politely inform him. He nods and continues out of the yard.

I shut the door behind me, trying to maintain a chill attitude. Once closed, I dart to the nightstand, which still holds the newspaper. I scan each sentence for the date, finally, I stop scanning. The date reads, July 2nd, 1946. How did I get here, and how can I leave?

Suddenly, a knock at the door startles me. Wearily, I approach the door and slowly twist the doorknob.

"Honey, I'm home!" Jake chants. My jaw drops, he's dressed like a bartender from this century.

"This can't be happening!" I exclaim, sitting on the bed.

I raise my hand to my forehead, constantly shake the feeling off. When I lift my head, he's not gonna be here. One, two, three. I lift my head, revealing an empty room. Maybe he was just a figment of my imagination.