Beyond a Shadow

Mavis had calmed down by the time we got to the house. In fact, she was hunched over in the back-seat weeping. My heart went out to her. No matter how many weird delusions she had, she was clearly a damsel in distress.

She turned a tear-filled face to me and said disconsolately, "What am I going to do?"

I said, "Come on in and we can talk. I promise that I will see this through with you."

I knew she wasn't quite right. But, I wanted the poor thing to understand that I wouldn't let her just fall through the cracks. I was beginning to feel deeply sympathetic.

As far as she was concerned, one day she had been living a life in vibrant post-World-War-Two America. And the next day she was stranded in an alien time with unimaginable technology. Think of how you would feel if you woke up one morning and it was the dawn of the third Millennium.

As I led her from car to house, I put my arm around her shoulders, just to console her. We had a short wooden bridge from the parking area to our doorstep. It crossed over a little brook that ran down to the Millpond. It was one of Janet's favorite features.

Mavis stopped and looked around with wonder. She said, "This is beautiful, so quiet and serene." Then she kind-of leaned into me in an intimate fashion. I let her do that because she obviously needed all the comforting she could get.

She had nothing with her, just the oddly out-of-place outfit that she had been wearing when I first discovered her. She had clearly put on her best togs for her night on the town in Cadott. It featured a short wool skirt, that showed off her fantastic legs, old-fashioned nylons, with a seam up the back, 3-inch heels and a nice white blouse, topped by a jaunty, short wool jacket that matched her skirt.

I said, "You can stay here while we sort this out." She looked concerned. I laughed and said, "This is a four-bedroom house. You sleep in the other end of it, and I don't sleepwalk. The bedroom door locks if you want extra peace of mind"

She said, like she was giving me information, "I'm a good girl. I don't just sleep around."

I said soothingly, "Look -- as far as you know it's 1945. So, you have a lot of catching up to do and you need to stay someplace safe to do it. I could put you in the County lockup if you think you'd be more comfortable there. But, you'll like it better here; trust me."

Her face softened. She said with deep emotion, "I DO trust you. Thank you for helping me."

I looked at her sitting there and one thing was obvious. I said, "You can't keep walking around in those clothes. We need to update your look and get you some supplies."

There was a Mall in Eau Claire. I told Char that I was going to be stuck all day solving a problem, but to call me if I was needed. Then we drove over to the Mall.

The Oakwood Mall was a brand-new experience for my little friend. When we walked in, she gazed around like it was the Emerald City. Malls were still a decade away when Mavis last went shopping.

I heard her mutter to herself, "In Xanadu did Kublai Khan a stately pleasure dome decree." That was Coleridge. She was well educated.

Mavis was still getting over the vastness of the place when I took her into the clothing store. I didn't know anything about women's clothes. So, I handed her off to the nearest sales person. The girl complimented Mavis on her "hipster" outfit. If she only knew!!

The saleslady was a study in tats and piercings. Mavis looked at me like she didn't know why I had brought her to a carnival freak show. Still, the saleslady was knowledgeable and had a light touch when it came to choosing things to fit Mavis.

It was obvious that Mavis considered all the clothing in the store immodest. I told her that was modern style. I also told her she looked fantastic. She blushed. It wasn't a false compliment. She was stunning.

Her leggy body with its succulent round butt and her surprisingly full, well-shaped tits, was a sight to behold; especially in a pair of painted on Jeans and a relaxed hi-lo tunic that was unbuttoned down to her 1940s bra.

The next culture shock occurred when I hauled out the Departmental Visa to pay for her loot.

She said, "What's that?" I said, "It's a credit card. Most transactions are by plastic these days."

She looked puzzled. I said, "I'll explain later. You still have a lot to learn." God!! I was beginning to talk to her like she really HAD come from the 1940s. Our close familiarity was dragging me into HER delusions.

That had to stop if I was going to help her!!

We put her old clothing in one of the four big bags. Mavis was still wearing her 1940s pumps. So, the next stop was sandals, and a pair of running shoes. She loved the feel of the running shoes.

Before she could ask, I said, "I'll explain that too," Then we made the final stop. She needed some undies. So, I took her to the Victoria's Secret store.

Normal men do not want to be caught dead in a place that is devoted to women's underthings. But, I bravely walked her in. I explained that Mavis was not from around these parts, and that she needed help selecting modern panties and bras. I let the saleslady's imagination fill in the rest.

I told the sales lady to fix Mavis up with whatever a girl would need. She turned to Mavis and said, "You look like a D cup, right?"

Mavis looked at me to translate. The armor-plated bras from Mavis's era were not designed to be comfortable. I shrugged. I'm a guy. I don't understand the terminology. I just like playing with the things.

So, Mavis turned to the saleslady and said, "What's a D cup?" The sales lady laughed like she thought that Mavis was making a joke.

I said to the sales lady, "Just take her back and measure her. Use your judgement about what she should have. I want you to load her up with all the gear a woman would normally need for the long haul.

They came out of the fitting room 30 minutes later. I had been hiding out in the mall itself. Mavis said embarrassed, "THAT was humiliating! Modern women wear these things??" And she held up a pair of high-cut lace panties.

As the sales lady was toting up the bill she casually mentioned, "She's 36-23-35 and a 32D, in case you need to buy her anything else." I didn't know anything about women's underthings. But, I DID know that those measurements were a knockout.

We walked back to the cruiser loaded down with shopping bags. Mavis was wearing her new jeans, running shoes and the light top. Now that she was properly supported, so-to-speak, there was two inches of sexy cleavage peeking out of the airy tunic.

Mavis seemed to have temporarily forgotten about her time displacement problem. I guess a shopping orgy will do that for a girl. She rode in front with me now, as docile as a little lamb. The bags were in the back, where the felons sit.

We made one more stop. That was the local Costco. She hadn't been inside a big box store, either. She was walking around dazed. I had to keep grabbing her to keep her from running into the other shoppers. We picked up stuff like tooth brushes, disposable razors and other essentials a woman would need. I thought I would never get her out of the makeup aisle.

When we got back to my place, we took all her newfound loot back to her room. It took two trips. She carefully put things in the dresser and hung the other stuff up in the closet. She was very quiet and subdued as she did it. IT was obvious that things were sinking in.

I said, "What's the matter Mavis?" She burst into tears and ran to me, burying her head in my chest and sobbing like a child. I hesitatingly put my arms around her.

She said through wracking sobs, "I'm so alone and lost!!"

You would have to be an extremely hard-hearted person to NOT be affected by that. I knew that she was a head case, not a time traveler. But, no matter the reality, she was legitimately frightened.

I said, "There-there, kiddo, we can work this out together. I'm not going to just leave you twisting in the wind. You can stay here for as long as you need to. We'll eventually find your people."

Her hard, little body was wrapped in my arms. She turned her perfect tear-stained face up to me, total devastation written on it. I knew what she thought was going to happen next, and I was fighting it with all I had. I knew I would be lost if I kissed her.

First, as an officer of the court, she was in my custodial care. Second, any person who takes advantage of the mentally impaired, deserves to be locked up. And, make no mistake about it. Avis was not quite right in the head. Finally, it had been almost five long years since I had had anything to do with women So, I wasn't going to fall for a nutcase.

It took a lot of willpower to prevent myself from lowering my lips to hers; which was what both of us were longing to do. I smiled fondly and said, "You know - I'm beginning to like you Mavis Pritchett."

She smiled back at me through her tears and said, "You know -- I'm beginning to like you too Erik Schwartzwalder." The spell was broken, and we went out to get a little late dinner.

I rustled us up a couple of sandwiches, thick slabs of roast-beef between even thicker slices of sourdough bread. I said, "beer?" She said, "Of course." And we took our meal out on the deck to look out over the millpond. She loved the ducks.

Mavis ate like a curly wolf. I was a little surprised that somebody as lithe and supple as she was, would eat like that. Then it dawned on me that she probably hadn't eaten in 36 hours, or seventy years; take your pick. She downed her beer and belched like a guy. She said, "That was excellent!!" I thought, "What a woman!!"

She was silent for a long while. Finally, she said somberly, "I'm really in trouble, aren't I?" I nodded.

She added, "If this is truly 2017, then there's nobody to help me. My parents are gone, and all my friends are older than the crone who stole my apartment. I have to cope in a world I didn't grow up in, and even if I could, I have no skills. What am I going to do?" She was back to crying.

I rose and put my hand on her shoulder in sympathy. She tensed for a minute and then it seemed like all the tension drained out of her. She said pathetically, "You'll take care of me won't you -- at least until I can get my feet under me?"

I said, trying to convey my resolve, "I'll take care of you and we will find out what happened. Don't worry. There's going to be a happy ending for you."

If I'd known how this was going to turn out I might not have been so chipper.

She looked at me with desire in those striking blue eyes and said, "I don't care what happens as long as you're with me."

I didn't like the intimate look. I don't do intimacy. I knew that it was just her dependence talking. But, this had to be crushed.

I said, "Let's start from the beginning. Where were you born?"

She said, On a farm outside Fall Creek."

I said, "Do you think you can find it? The roads have probably not changed much." She nodded.

I said, "Okay, it's too late to look, today. But let's start bright and early in the morning. Maybe somebody will remember you."

*****

The next morning, we were driving up a rutted dirt road off County N. It had turned hot and the sun was baking the fields around us. The autumn sound of the katydids was almost deafening. Mavis was looking for something recognizable. It was a fruitless search. There was nothing but old fencing lining the road.

I was about to turn back when she said elated, "There!! Over there!! Turn right!!" I looked and there were two tracks leading off between a couple of rotting gate posts.

We pushed our way through the high weeds and roadside plants and bumped our way up the nonexistent road. I was glad the cruiser had the Apprehender package. The heavy-duty shocks and springs gave it just enough clearance.

Mavis was practically vibrating with expectation. We crested a low rise and looked down at her former house. It was nothing but a big rectangular hole in the ground, with weeds growing out of it and a bunch of junk strewn around. I knew right away, that this was a big mistake.

Avis looked like it had finally sunk in that this wasn't a dream. She stared, gulped, and wailed "Mooom!!" "DaaaD!!" Then she threw herself on my chest and got back to her heartbroken crying.

I just held her and made cooing noises. Mavis's whole life had evaporated in an instant, at least in her mind. I mean; what do you say to a woman who has suddenly lost her entire family, dog and girlhood mementoes.

Her body was shaking with grief. I was uncomfortably aware of those big boobs squashed against my chest and her thick curly black hair tickling my nose. She had put on some of the perfume that she had purchased, and it was raising erotic thoughts.

I let her sob for a while. Then I had a sudden flash of inspiration. I pushed her back. Her face was humid from crying and utterly, unfathomably beautiful. She looked at me with raging desire, and I knew she was going to kiss me.

That scared me to death. The last thing I needed was a sexual relationship with a crazy person. I swung her around, so that she was sitting back in the passenger's seat. I didn't want it to seem like I was rejecting her. But, I'm only human, and the sexual tension was killing me.

Mavis looked startled. It was like no guy had ever told her, "no." She said astonished, "Don't you want me?!!"

I said, "That isn't it Mavis. You are a beautiful and sensual woman who I would normally fall in love with in a New York second. But right now, you believe you're from the 1940s. That isn't healthy. So, I have to help you get your real life back, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to do that, if we add the additional complication of sex."

Then I said sheepishly, "I've also been burned by all the women in my life and that has tuned me feral."

Her mood shifted from devastated to inquisitive. WOMEN! Being female, she wanted to know the whole story.

I said, "We have one more logical stop. I'll tell you the whole thing over dinner tonight.

The next stop was at the Consolidated School District Central Office in Fall Creek. I was going to do my, "official business," thing with the receptionist but I ran into Jake Jensen. I had forgotten that he was the District Athletic Director.

We recognized each other immediately, even though we hadn't seen each other since the last event with Janet. He stuck out his hand and said, "Erik, haven't seen you since..." Then he stopped.

I said, "It's okay Jake. Stuff happens, and I'm more-or-less over it." I saw Mavis perk up her ears.

He said, "What are you doing here? Are you visiting in an official capacity?" Then he noticed Mavis. She was standing there eagerly listening.

She looked like she had come down from heaven; with her perfect features, spectacular black hair and blue eyes and with her light summer tunic, stuffed full of boobs. Jensen checked her out. I didn't blame him. If I had seen Mavis at a local bar I would have been on her like she was a MIG-21 tailpipe and I was a sidewinder missile. She was THAT stunningly attractive.

I said, "Jake, this is Mavis Pritchett. We would like to ask you a favor. She thinks that her great-grandmother might have graduated from here in 1940, is that correct Mavis?"

Mavis looked confused and said, "No, that was m...." She was about to say "me." So, I stepped on her last word by l saying, "NO, I'm certain it was 1940!!!"

Jensen looked puzzled at the interchange. But, he said, "Well we keep all the old yearbooks back in the archive. Let's go take a look."

He walked down a hall to the room where they kept the records. There was a big rack of old high school annuals. He was tall enough to pick through the earliest set of books, which was on the top shelf. He selected one, brought it down and dusted it off.

He opened it to the senior pictures, leafed through them and then got a puzzled look. He said, "Why your great-grandmother looks exactly like you Mavis, Here." And he laid the annual down on the table in the middle of the room.

Mavis and I walked over and looked at the picture. Sure enough, a slightly younger version of Mavis was looking back at us.

She turned to me and said triumphantly, "See, I told you!!"

Jensen said, "We have several extra copies from that year if you want to keep this one."

Mavis said, "That's alright, I have my own." And she blithely walked back toward the front. Both Jensen and I watched her truly remarkable buns sway invitingly up the hall. I looked at him. He looked at me. We both said, "Whew!!"

*****

Mavis was destroying another steak. She was clearly carnivorous. The sun was setting in a spectacular display of magenta-and-purple sky. The leaves were turning red and gold. It smelled like fall. We were sipping a decent Pinot Noir on the deck while she watched the migrating ducks on the Millpond.

She had dressed in one of her new dresses. The weather was still warm. So, she was in a light Laura Ashley flower print silk dress. It clung to her body and showed off her spectacular figure. Her makeup enhanced her flawless features and her huge, deep impenetrable blue eyes.

I was sure that her life experience would not include knowing how to wear that dress or put on the makeup; if Mavis was the person she claimed to be. They just didn't have items like that back in the 1940s.

But then again, all women instinctively know how to enhance their looks. Maybe that was the reason why Mavis was so at-home with modern beauty stuff.

Mavis had been pensive all the way home, and she hadn't said much as she demolished her sirloin. Finally, she sat back and contemplated me with an unfathomable look. She said, "You're starting to believe me aren't you." It was a statement, not a question.

I said, "I'm a cop. I don't trust anything. I just follow evidence. I have to admit that everything so far indicates that three days ago you were living in the 1940s. There is no record of a woman by your name in modern data bases. But that might just mean you are using the old Mavis Pritchett identity."

She looked a little frustrated. I added, "There is a clear picture of somebody who looks exactly like you in a 1940 yearbook. But all families have resemblances from generation to generation. You seem to know the right places and names, but of course you could have researched all of that. "

Her face was falling, like she expected me to say something different. I said emphatically, "I simply don't believe in ghosts and time-travel and that's the only possible explanation for your presence here. That is, if you really are the Mavis that we saw in the picture."

She stood up and walked to the deck railing, to look out over the pond. I couldn't help noticing her slim muscular legs as her dress blew around them. I've been solitary for five years. But, I'm not dead.

With her back turned toward me, she said quietly and sincerely, "I have no memories of any time other than my growing up on a farm in the middle of the Depression and my life as a teacher. I remember friends and even lovers; who are all probably dead. My childhood home is gone. My apartment has somebody living in it. And, I appear to be stranded in this brave new world.

A lightbulb went off in my head. I said, "You've been to college?" That was a rarity for a woman in the 1940s.

She said, "Yes, I got my certificate from the Normal School in Eau Claire and I taught English Literature in the High School in Augusta for the past three years."

That was one more piece of the puzzle. I didn't know where it would lead. But, I was going to check the High School teacher's records for Mavis Pritchett.

I said, "The only thing I know for sure is that you're here in the present with me, and I will do my best to make sure that you are happy and safe in this brave new world; as you call it."