I opened my eyes to Ellen clubbing me in the face with a rolled-up magazine, while a naked girl—a lighter-skinned, slighter-framed version of Urszula—stood atop a bench in the waiting area, buck naked, shrieking at the top of her lungs.
“Noooo! What have you done? Send me back!”
“Where the fuck did she come from?” said Ellen, cringing.
“She’s … she’s not supposed to be here.”
“You know her?”
I nodded. People stared. Some clicked pictures with their iPhones. Nobody intervened.
Ellen shook her head. “Listen, we gotta go. I waited as long as I could, but the train is due on Track 5 in two minutes.”
“We’re gonna need a ticket for her, too.”
“You’re kidding. She’s coming with us?”
“Well, we can’t just leave her here.”
Ellen sighed. “There’s no time to get a ticket from the counter. We’ll have to buy one on the train.” She shoved a plastic sack into my sacks. “Get her to shut up and put these on. We have to go. Now!”
I peeked inside. It contained a blue and yellow Drexel T-shirt and a pair of matching sweat pants.
Urszula’s cheeks were all inflamed. It was so odd seeing all that color in her face. It took away from her aura of invincibility, making her look quite mortal.
“What is this place? You had no right to bring me here!”
I held out the T-shirt, which was oversized even for me.
“Put this on and we’ll talk okay?”
Noooo! This is not possible!” She screamed some more.
“Urszula! Just put this on!”
She ignored me. She just stood there, shaking on the bench, her face dripping with tears.
I opened up the bottom of the T-shirt and swung it over her head. She fought back, swinging her elbows, but one arm found its way into an arm-hole, and she got the point and wriggled into it. I handed her the sweat pants, which were blue, adorned with yellow dragons.
“Quick. The train’s coming,” said Ellen, heading to the stairs leading down to the platform. She showed me a Wendy’s bag. “I got us a bite. Hope it’s enough.”
A transit officer came running over from a coffee shop, arms swinging loose at his sides, alert eyes tracking left and right, as he assessed the situation, his hand hovering over the canister of pepper spray on his belt.
“Alright. What’s going on here? Why has she got no pants? She tripping?”
“No … she’s, uh … my cousin. She’s off her meds. We’re taking her home.”
“Take your hand from your weapon!” said Urszula, in a growl that was more nasal than intimidating. “Don’t you look at me like that! I’ll pluck your eyeballs.”
“You shut the fuck up and get down off that bench!”
Urszula felt for the scepter she no longer carried. In another world, the transit officer’s skull would have already been turned to dust.
“Officer! Please … you’re agitating her. That’s not gonna help. Trust me.”
“Well, you better get her calmed down, and get some clothes on her, or I’m gonna have her admitted. Got it?”
“Here, step into these.” I held the sweats open. Urszula hesitated, but then she hopped in, the waist band rising up to her chest. Ellen rolled them up at the ankles so they wouldn’t drag on the ground. I cinched the drawstring as tight as it would go. Rolls of fabric dangled off her butt.
