Emeline awoke with a massive gasp that pulled her bodily off the ground. Her torso surged upwards almost in a convulsion as she tried to draw in life-saving air. There was nowhere for the oxygen to go. Her body was fighting internally to make room for the sweet necessity. Instead, the saltwater shot forcefully from her mouth and nose, causing her to gag. Gasping, she sucked in the cold, crisp air gratefully.

She felt someone beating her on the back as if to aid her coughing fit. While appreciative for the help, as she saw who it was, she leaped away as if burned and instantly regretted it. The quick movement had her throwing up more saltwater as it exited her stomach as well. She felt like she had been beaten or hit with a truck. Instead, she had been drowned and saved by the weird, dark woman.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the woman she had seen under the water staring at her oddly. Where Emeline looked like a drowned rat, literally, the creepy woman looked like she’d just stepped out of a scene from a movie on the History Channel. Her appearance was complete with a massive up do of the black curls that had looked eerily like tentacles coming from her head moments ago.

“No movie, my dear,” Eve announced as she struck Emeline on the back again. “Once more for good measure! Can’t have you smelling like a school of plankton when you meet your man!”

“Gimme a moment,” she gasped, crawling away from the woman in horror. The singsong, happy voice grated on her nerves almost as badly as the saltwater had felt in her lungs. Her fingers clutched at the sand in an effort to pull her body forward, to put distance between them. I must get away from her! Where am I? What the heck was going on? It was dark outside, have I been passed out on the beach for hours? Because of her? she thought angrily.

Catching her breath finally, she lunged at the strange woman intending to lash out in retaliation. As one of her delicate, upraised, black eyebrows climbed up her forehead, the strange lady gave a wry smile as Emeline froze in place. She promptly fell into the sand face first, unable to move her arms to catch herself. The sand was brutal against her face, feeling it scrape against her skin as she fell. Her body felt completely immobile, like she was made of plastic. Her muscles burned and strained trying to make some progress to get her face out of the sand. Breaking a sweat, groaning with effort she finally was able to put a hand under her face in order to get any sort of distance between her skin and the ground. She lay there several moments angrily trying to form words with her frozen lips. Instead, she sounded like a bad ventriloquist.

“Ewe itch! Ey ewe dry to kill knee?” Emeline attempted to shout as she lay there staring at the small crab not far away from her head. The crab had come forward daringly, touching her hair. If that twit pinches me, I’m gonna rip his legs off right after I get a hold of her! she thought nastily. Blinking was painfully hard and while she never noticed it before, she realized it now. The claw came precariously close to her eye and she struggled to close it.

“Now that’s not very nice,” Eve said lightly as she stood there watching her. “When you are finished with your tantrum, we’ll talk.”

Why would I be nice to you, Killer? she thought scathingly and then realized that she hadn’t attempted to say that aloud. You can hear me? Let me up!

“Yes, yes. And if you are done fooling around, we can finally get to work,” she offered and snapped her fingers from a safe distance freeing Emeline. “I don’t recommend you try that stunt again.”

“I won’t,” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing her nose where she hit the sand face first. It was tender but didn’t feel skinned like her knee was. “I plan on dragging your carcass into the ocean so you can get a dose of what you gave me.”

“Tut, tut, tut,” Eve said clucking her tongue. “I didn’t drown the first time around in the water, you did. What makes you think you can do me harm?”

Emeline sat down hard in the sand as her knees gave out from under her. The dark woman was right. She had been down there for an abnormal amount of time with no tanks. Thinking hard, she remembered there had been no bubbles. Nothing. Every time she had lashed out to free herself of the woman’s grasp, she had not made contact. The woman’s words sunk in suddenly as she stared between the foreign woman and herself. She was in her neon bikini, sitting in the freezing cold night air in the dark. The short, dumpy wom-

“Eh hem… I prefer voluptuous. Thank you very much,” Eve said, suddenly interrupting her train of thought.

“My bad,” she said automatically, stunned by the events. The voluptuous woman was wearing a heavy gown with a large scarf around her shoulders. She even had on fingerless gloves. She looked like she was dressed as a stand-in for a museum scene. This was the complete opposite of how Emeline sat currently.

“Exactly. We need to get you into something a bit more appropriate for the weather, don’t you think? I can only keep you from freezing to death, oh that’s funny! Death? Yes, yes we’ve done that already,” she said suddenly as she realized the faux pas. “Like I was saying, I can only keep you from freezing for a short while.”

“Funny,” Emeline quipped. “So, let’s discuss the part where you killed me and how it’s dark outside now.”

“Let’s go inside and get you dressed appropriately before the itty bitty tiny titty committee adjourns right off your scrawny hide. By the way, neon? Nice touch and easy to find you in the water.”

“I hate you,” Emeline bit out flatly, crossing her arms protectively across her chest.

“No, you don’t. I promise, you will thank me later once you get off your high horse,” she answered simply. “Unless you plan on staying here by yourself in the dark, I don’t see any lighthouses or signs of civilization, do you? Look where you are standing. Sand. Now look at where I am?” Eve gestured around her. “Snow. Let’s just say that I will explain what’s going on once I get your fragile form some protection from the elements.”

Fragile form? Even more confused, Emeline wanted to run back towards the beach but found herself walking behind the woman. She watched as her limbs moved of their own accord carrying her into a small grove of trees. She expected to have a massive case of frostbite at the first touch of snow to her feet. Why was there snow in South Carolina in August? It wasn’t deep, but it was present. She hadn’t even noticed it on the sand earlier, but it was coating the grasses and bushes all around. Where were the dunes? She had loved watching the grass sway in the breezes in front of the condo. Where was the condo? Snow was covering everything yet it felt warm; like the temperature was absolutely nothing right now. Curious, she thought as she reached out to touch it.

“C’mon hurry, I have got to get you inside before you freeze those mosquito bites right off. Men like boobs and you can’t afford to lose what little you have up top.”

“Hysterical,” Emeline groaned at the flat-chested jokes she had endured her whole life were now present once again on vacation. That was part of the reason she picked the little bikini. It made her A cups look like she actually had something! “Let’s see. You drown me, kidnap me and then insult me. You are a bundle of work, Lady.” She got no response from the strange woman, other than she began to walk faster away. Emeline found herself running in order to keep up.

They walked up to a small, rustic-looking cabin that had plumes of smoke coming from the stone chimney. Emeline could see the glow coming from the glass panels of the window. It was odd seeing the waves of light shine through the thick, dull glass and all the bubbles. It looked like something you would see at colonial Williamsburg. She remembered the place and seeing all this old looking stuff was triggering memories she had from her childhood.

“Boston,” she said simply. The woman held the door open with a smile, gesturing that she should go inside. “I’m Eve.”

“And I am apparently a crazy, water-logged zombie,” Emeline replied, shaking the water and sand from her hair. “Did you say Boston?”

Cackling with laughter, Eve nodded in agreement. “Oh, you are going to be a fun one.” Snapping her fingers, the sand Emeline had been trying to unpack from her ear and cheek after her fall was suddenly gone. In its place was clean, dry, skin and hair. The salty, fishy smell she hadn’t been able to shake was now gone. She felt like she’d just gotten out of the shower and stared at Eve. This was all incredibly wild and unbelievable. If a pumpkin rushed by being dragged by mice, she would not be at all surprised. Bibbity, bobbity, boo?

“Fun one what?” Emeline asked cautiously as she stared at the door feeling like she was crossing an imaginary line. This is what happened in vampire movies. You cross the threshold and bam, they can suck your blood and come in your house taking over everything. Is that what she was waiting for? An invitation? Was she a vampire? All that black hair and the weird costume were making her wonder. All of a sudden, she felt the sharp bite of the weather and jumped from the contact of the snow with her bare feet. “Holy crap, it’s cold out!”

“A fun one to relocate, pair up and train,” Eve said lightly. She shoved Emeline inside the cabin, unexpectedly. Emeline fell down onto the wooden floor and winced at the pinch in her hands and knees from the splinters that imbedded themselves. Yeah, this was not a fairytale or a lot was modified from the modern version she remembered as a child!

“You could have asked me to come in instead of shoving me.”

“And you could refrain from cursing,” Eve admonished.

“I didn’t curse,” she countered, looking confused. “All I said was holy…”

Eve snapped her fingers, looking supremely irritated at the repeated offense. “Let’s do it my way. It’s not the most pleasant for you but it gets you to shut up. Now, quit offending the man’s ears upstairs,” she said, picking imaginary lint off her sleeve. “And mine.”

Emeline stared at her. Her mouth moved but no sound came out. What are you?

“Meh, that doesn’t matter,” she said easily, shrugging. Brushing off the question as if it were nothing worth discussing. “Let’s talk about you, Miss Emeline Hastings.”

How do you know my name?

“Same way I know your soul is dying inside at that awful job you have in the middle of nowhere. How’d you get stuck out there, anyways? You picked the coldest spot in the United States,” Eve said, looking amused. “Boston will be a piece of cake… oh! Oh! A piece of pie! Get it? Boston cream pie? Oh, that sounds kinky but maybe that will come in time... oh, another one! I love dirty puns, they are the best and I am full of them tonight! Get it? Cream? Come? Maybe you’ll be full of it tonight, my girl!” she said, slapping her knee through the gown as Emeline stared at her.

“You’re nuts, aren’t you?”

Stopping suddenly, Eve cocked her dark head to the side as if she were suddenly listening to something far away. She changed her tone to a more sedate one. “Relax, I am here to help.”

“You haven’t so far, Killer.”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that,” Eve replied, pouting.

“Hit too close to home?”

“No, I’m here to help and you aren’t listening. I have to move your puzzle piece, Child.”

“Are you cray-cray? Seriously. If you’re crazy, there is help for people like you.”

Eve gave a dramatic sigh, snapped her fingers and Emeline was abruptly quietened down again. Emeline awkwardly walked over to the table. The woman’s gait reminded her definitely of a zombie movie. And as if Eve read Emeline’s mind, her arms shot out in front of her, her hands hanging limply of their own accord. Glaring pointedly at Eve, her arms dropped and she sat down hard. The roughly-made, wooden bench in the room would not have been her first choice of a chair. She prayed she wouldn’t get splinters in her butt to match her skinned knees. The thin swimsuit bottom gave little protection and she felt every crack in the wooden slab. Eve must have read her mind because she suddenly smiled sympathetically towards her.

“I’m here to help and you are fighting me at every turn so far,” Eve insisted again. Emeline gave her a droll stare hoping it spoke volumes. Instead, the dark woman named Eve kept talking.

“You were being wasted where you were at. You have a fire in you girl. That fire needs to burn! You need a challenge, a fight, a cause. Admit it, you were numb on the inside back home,” she chided eagerly, leaning towards Emeline as if expecting a response. Emeline opened her mouth to speak and Eve shook her head.

“Nope, keeping you silent is getting us further along in your story,” she muttered to herself. “So yes, you want values and inspiration? Well, the man upstairs heard you. That is why I’m here,” she announced with a grin. “I am your relocation specialist.”

An angel?

“Heavens no. Someday maybe,” she said, lightly waving her hand in the air. “Labels are so cliché. I prefer titles and that’s part of my hang-up,” she admitted. “Relocation specialist has such a panache to it, don’t you agree?”

Emeline didn’t know what to think. She only nodded silently, stupefied at the weird conversation. Maybe this was like a weird fairytale or how they began. Hansel and Gretel, the original tales were awful… perhaps this would turn into a sweet fairytale, too.

“You’re in Boston simply because you are needed here. So, I am relocating you. We need to get you ready for your next, new role. Your dream the other night was only a preview of what’s to come. If you will stand up, we’ll get you changed into something a bit more appropriate for the time period.”

Staring, she saw a massive amount of fabric get pulled from a black cloud that suddenly appeared next to Eve. Don’t angels do the white, gold, glittery thing?

“Like I said, I’m not an angel,” she quipped, pointing at herself, enunciating. “Re-lo-cation specialist. You aren’t dense, are you?”

Relocating? Boston? That’s cool, maybe? she thought randomly. This is tres-weird, but cool. She’d never been to Boston, ever. Maybe she could see the city before heading back home.

“It’s actually pretty cold, not cool outside,” Eve agreed, pulling the dress over her head. “But maybe this is normal for March.” Suddenly frowning, she added, “I thought there would be a lot more snow, like big drifts of the stuff. So far, I’m pretty disappointed. Horse stuff everywhere, muddy slush piles occasionally, but nothing like the paintings in the museums. Maybe it’s a warm spell. Who knows?”

It’s not March, Emeline disagreed mentally, pushing her arms into the sleeves mindlessly as she crept towards the fireplace to warm her hands. It was so darned cold in here! She was happy to be covered and out of her wet bikini. It’s August, Eve.

“No, Dearie, it’s March 2^nd, 1770,” she countered in that cheery, singsong voice that grated on Emeline’s nerves. Eve gave the laces at the back of the dress a sharp tug as she tightened the period gown. Emeline felt Eve lean forward over her shoulder. The woman whispered in her ear jovially, “You, my dear, are going to be married.”

Emeline promptly collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

Dazed, Emeline cracked open an eye and groaned. There was wood everywhere within sight. Cabin walls. Not a dream, nightmare? Drowning? Snowing? Realizing where she was, she sat up quickly only to find herself flopping backwards onto the wooden floor yet again as the blood rushed from her head.

“Sheesh! One shining ray of good news and you pass out from overwhelming excitement? I thought you were made of sterner stuff!” Eve said with a smug smile as she stood over Emeline’s confused form on the rough floor. “I offered to tell you everything. Juicy details and tidbits galore,” she tempted.

“Mind if I just lay here a bit?” Emeline groaned, her head pounding. “I think I may be sick.”

“I’d prefer not,” Eve said, quickly backing away and pointing at herself. “I’m a reactive puker! You puke? I puke! It’s not pretty, either! Big, old clouds of dust and debris everywhere! It’s simply a mess! Ever used a fire extinguisher? Same thing comes out of me! We specialists are not made to throw up.”

Nodding slowly, Emeline shut her eyes, waiting for the roaring in her head to fade. What a truly weird woman. She was barely comprehending some of what she was saying and the other stuff seemed like gibberish. Maybe she had been under the water a little too long and lost brain cells. “Go ahead and do your talking. I’m all ears apparently.”

“Well you certainly aren’t all boobs, my little titmouse.” Eve laughed. “Which is why it’s so ironic that your main squeeze is a carpenter. Get it? Flat as a board?” Sitting nearby in a plush velvet chair that looked strangely out of place, she crossed her legs delicately. Emeline watched Eve stick her arm out into the air. As her hand momentarily disappeared, it reformed holding a perfect, red apple. Yup, my brain is melting, Emeline thought forlornly, or it’s magic?

“Enough with the small boob jokes,” Emeline muttered, feeling a wave of nausea. She’d have rolled her eyes if they weren’t already closed.

“I have plenty of them, you know. Puns are, by far, my favorite,” Eve said simply. After clearing her throat noisily for attention, Eve offered, “Let’s continue, shall we? I’m getting distracted. Here’s the dilly-yo,” she quipped.

“You are in Boston. Welcome to the American Revolution or what will be so, eventually. Right now? It’s rough out there. Harsh winters, little money, but some fine-looking men. And I do mean, FINE. Tanned, buff, muscled men everywhere!” Eve said emphatically, fanning herself wildly. “But, don’t let that stop you or distract you. You have a purpose here. Everything has a place. Sometimes, it’s something massive like signing the Declaration of Independence.”

Emeline cut in suddenly, cracking open an eyelid, “Women didn’t sign the Declaration of Independence. You’re on crack, Woman. Anyone ever tell you that? Did you even study history growing up?”

“Eh-hem,” Eve said pointedly, taking a big bite of her apple. “Lemme finish, Miss Rudeness! As I was saying, sometimes, it’s as simple as making the paper that it’s written upon,” she retorted point-blank, crossing her legs the other direction. “Paper is important too, you know?”

“What’s my purpose you keep going on about? I am going to need to make paper?” Emeline questioned.

“I can’t tell you what your purpose is or it will affect how you come in to play. Rules, Titmouse. Rules. First off, I have a real dislike to cursing. Don’t do it or you’ll regret it.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s a promise. My last relocation lost her voice every time she cursed. Man, she had a filthy mouth on her! But hey, I have all sorts of ideas and we can always try something a bit more irritating if you don’t like my rules. How about starting your period in 1770 with no tampons or maxi pads every time you curse?”

“Well, that’s a disgusting and absolutely horrifying idea! Talk about cruel and unusual punishment there, Killer.”

“Honestly, that might be a bad idea – you’d bleed out and die, if your language in the ocean was any indication.”

“You yanked me under!” Emeline argued. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh my, thank you! Saltwater feels so very good in my lungs!’ A little foul language was highly appropriate at the time!”

“I teleported… eh, transported… ah, well, uh relocated you.”

“So, which was it? Teleported? Transported? Because I’m thinking the term you are looking for is DROWNED. I bet teleportation or transportation feels much better rather than being drowned. I don’t think you could carry me, much less drag me out of the water unconscious. Did I mention that you drowned me? That is a painful way to go!”

“Let’s go with relocated and not get into minor details, shall we? They get messy. Unless they are your details about your new and improved life. Now, quit interrupting me. You are distracting me, Ms. Hastings,” she announced. “Where was I?”

“You drowned me,” Emeline repeated again flatly, waiting for a response. She stood slowly to sit on the bench nearby. The dress that she had been laced up in was making it hard to move. The fabric was quite heavy and the corset pinched her skin making it hard to breathe.

“Details, oh yes!” Eve snapped her fingers comically. Emeline could have sworn she saw a flash go off just above Eve’s dark head. “You are going to want details. Okay. Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah yes, Boston 1770, and the Redcoats are here. You a fan of red? I’m not. I look much better in dark colors. Black, blue, purple…”

“Focus, please?” Emeline cut in, exasperated. She rested her head in her hands, elbows on the table. Her mind was spinning and she felt like she couldn’t take a deep breath in her tight dress. How in the world did I get here, she wondered? At least I am warm right now.

“Right! I like you girl. You learn quick and no cursing.”

“Does it get me anywhere by arguing with you?”

“It got you to Boston,” Eve said shortly, “but no. You are here now.”

“I’m not going home when I serve my purpose you keep blathering on about?” Emeline asked quickly, glancing up in shock. Ever?

“Do you have much waiting for you there? Fishes, dead end job, debt? Titmouse, your body is currently chumming the ocean water. So, I wouldn’t want to be placed back inside of it any time soon. Shark Week is going to be on T.V. soon, if you get my drift Get it? Drifting in the ocean? Another pun! Love them!”

“Oh, I got it all right,” she said dismally, thinking of the bills and stress of her job. She had nothing going on back home and she had been so miserable that she was planning to turn her life completely upside down regardless. Perhaps, it was going to be easier to be able for her to cope with the changes if she could blame it on Eve. Dealing with the idea of death waiting for her sounded terrible. “Tell me more about how this all works. Because honestly, being dropped in war-torn colonial America doesn’t sound much more appealing.”

“You are an… inspiration. Yes, yes. Let’s describe you as an inspirational piece. You know what it’s like to be free and the whole back story of the American Revolution, right?”

“I know some of it,” she muttered, putting her head back down in her hands as she tried to wrap her mind around what was going on. Maybe she was in a padded room somewhere hugging herself in a white, teeny jacket with buckles. Perhaps if she woke up, they’d give her some really strong happy pills.

“No! Now stop that and pay attention, you drama queen! Sheesh! This is your big chance!” Eve admonished. “It’s just the important things you need to know right now. The cliff notes, my little titmouse.”

“Can you quit calling me names?” she asked with a heavy sigh. This whole situation was a bit much to take in, honestly, and the jabs at her tiny chest size were not necessary in the slightest. It kept distracting and irritating her. It was hard enough to focus on the odd woman without Eve throwing in an insult to get her ire up.

“It’s an endearment,” Eve said gently, softening her tone. “I promise. An endearment and a small boob joke all rolled into one! How could I not love the nickname? It so suits you, my titmouse,” she repeated with a smile.

“Back to the past? Am I the professor or Marty? Do I get a shiny car with this fiasco?” she asked sarcastically, referencing the 80s movie.

“Right. So yes, inspiration. No, no car. You are to be married to the hottest carpenter in town, although he is a bit of a stuck-up twig. Or is it Whig? Wasn’t that a political party? Oh, maybe he wears a wig? Where’s my book at now?” she wondered out loud, confused, patting her skirts randomly in order to search her pockets.

“Great, he sounds dreamy,” Emeline replied sarcastically. She wasn’t sure how this was going to work out, but going home was not an option anymore. Perhaps, if he was awful, she could simply hightail it to the next town and fake a different name. Did they divorce each other in this time period? Problem was that she had no idea what Eve’s definition of what “dreamy” was. “Dreamy, huh? Tell me how ‘dreamy’ this guy is.”

“He’s quite so,” Eve confirmed. “But he’s very uptight. He ought to warm right up to you. But if not, that is how it normally happens. One look or one touch, and boom! You’ll have to be on your best behavior. He won’t be the powdered prude you are picturing right now in your mind. I think you’ll be a shock to his system and you’ll be pleasantly surprised by your boy-toy.”

“Does he even know I am here?”

“He’s been told that his intended is arriving soon and that she comes with a nice dowry.”

“Two problems, right there,” Emeline cut in, startled. She held up her hand in protest. “One, no dowry. I have nothing anymore, just what is on me. Two, just how soon are we talking?”

“Like, today, and your dowry was already taken to him. I got him some Stanley tools. I got the good stuff with the grip handles. Not the cheap sets, you know? If you are going to do this, you do it right! Everyone loves grippies! It’s a great deal for your carpenter.”

“Really? You got him a tool box in exchange for my hand in marriage? And he took it? How insulting. What were they? Sixty bucks?” Emeline asked, rolling her eyes.

“They were really nice tools. And for a person in 1770, he thought it was the shiznit,” Eve enunciated, catching Emeline’s sharp glance. “No, I’m not a hypocrite. I do like that word: shiznit. It sounds bad but it’s not. So, it’s not technically cursing. That word, and butter beans. Hate the taste, but love to use it instead of the foul language. It just works so much better,” Eve said happily with an encouraging smile. “You are welcome to use either of them.”

“Are you kidding me? Is this an effin’ joke? I appreciate the kind offer, but what if I refuse to marry some stranger or use your pretend curse word? Butter beans, puh-lease!”

Eve suddenly lurched off the bench knocking it behind her on the floor with an eerie thump. She seemed to grow larger than life, expanding exponentially with a mysterious, black cloud around her that came from nowhere. Her black hair that was coiffed on her head flew out in an explosion of tendrils that seemed to reach for Emeline. A faint rumbling echoed in her ears that sounded distinctly like a growl.

Backing away, she stared at the menacing transformation happening in front of her. The woman melted away and in her place was something you’d imagine from Poltergeist. Eve’s eyes were black pits and the snarl on her face was ungodly. Seeing the unholy vision, Emeline felt like her mind was ready to snap at the reveal. She felt as if seeing the sight was too much for her psyche. Pain, combined with the scent and sting of saltwater, burned at Emeline’s chest and nose. As she began to choke and gargle, she stared horrified at the apparition.

As quickly as it flew towards her, she watched Eve draw herself back into the small, womanly form sitting primly across the table. Her hair curling upwards and positioning itself on top of her head like an imaginary hairdresser, she was placing pins in the proper place.

“You, my little titmouse,” she enunciated firmly with a cold smile as if nothing abnormal had happened. She patted her hair gingerly and delicately touched up her lip gloss. “You will always have a choice, my dear. You can return to your time in your little neon bikini or you can give 1770 a ‘go’ and see what you think of being your ‘carpenter’s dream’.”

“More boob jokes?” she asked and then slapped her hands over her runaway mouth. Emeline stared wide eyed at Eve trying to determine who or what she was. Was she a demon? That little scene had her pretty darned freaked out and scared to be in the room with her.

“Be respectful. Not scared. I am here for you, but you have to be amenable to the opportunity you have been given. Not rude or ungrateful like you have been so far,” Eve cut in. “I told you, I had plenty of jokes. Emeline, be a little flexible and give this a chance. Tackiness doesn’t suit your personality. Remember, this is a gift from above.”

“Sounds like I will be living the dream in good ol’ 1770 colonial America,” she replied with faked enthusiasm in a falsetto voice. Emeline gave two thumbs up as she swallowed hard, still tasting saltwater. “Yippy skippy,” she said flatly. “Let’s go.”

“That’s my girl,” Eve said smugly.