(Leila and Remi are at a local Thrift shop when Remi comes across a peculiar photograph on the wall of the shop)
While Leila and I were browsing through the aisles, I spotted some pictures hanging on the wall. They were up for sale, and a few of them had that charming vintage vibe that really caught my eye. “Wow, look Leila, these pictures look totally vintage.” Leila was browsing the clothes racks. I closely looked at a picture that was from Woodstock and reminisced when Mr. Smith and I attended. “It seems like yesterday, oh wait it was,” I thought and chuckled softly. However, as I inspected the picture, I noticed something familiar.
“Oh shit,” I whispered and asked, “Who took this picture?”
“Well, no one knows but I suppose a random photographer who attended the
Woodstock event in 1969,” the shop owner said as she surprised me from behind.
"Sorry for startling
you," she commented. I shook my head, "No problem, I was captivated
by this picture. How much?”
"Well, most of the vintage pictures here are priced at $80, but I can offer it to you for $50." With a sigh, I reluctantly agreed, “Okay.” Desperate to conceal my time-traveling escapades at any cost, I was willing to part with fifty dollars, knowing full well that no one would ever suspect the truth behind an innocuous old photograph. Taking down the 11 by 14 photo from the wall, she examined it closely. "Interesting, the girl in the photo kinda looks like you," she commented nonchalantly. "I guess everyone has a doppelgänger," she added, shrugging it off with a smile. "You might be right," I sighed with a smile, feeling speechless as I gazed at the photo that captured the intimate moment between Mr. Smith and I, he had given me a passionate kiss on the lips at the time the photo was taken. After a swift payment, she gently placed the picture into a bag, which I quickly shoved into my backpack. "Have you found anything interesting?" Leila asked. "Not really, what about you?" I asked her, noticing a cute hippie-style tunic shirt in her hand that seemed familiar. A sudden realization struck me. "Oh no, it can’t be. That belongs to Tracy," I thought to myself. "That's a lovely boho tunic shirt," I commented with a nervous tone. "Yes, it is. It belonged to my grandmother," the shop owner revealed, leaving me in awe. "Was your grandmother at Woodstock?" I asked, intrigued. She nodded as she proceeded to ring up Leila's item. "Yes, she was. She always told me stories about her time at Woodstock and a story about a peculiar journey she had with an actual time traveler and his young bride," she shared, causing my eyes to widen in disbelief. “In fact, she wrote a book about it, but it didn’t quite make best seller, however she did sell a few copies. I have a copy of it on the bookshelf, let me go get it.” Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, a testament to my nervousness as I anticipated the contents of the book. When she returned, she handed it to me - an old book with yellow pages and a picture of the author, Tracy Richards, on the back. I recognized her by her distinctive, beautiful eyes. “Her last name is Richards, it's probably her married name,” I thought.
"Do you want it?" she asked, to which I simply nodded. Later, Leila and I found ourselves seated on a bench at the outdoor mall's quad area. "Can I take a look at that book?" Leila asked, eagerly. Passing her the book, she responded with a scoff, "A Time Traveler and His Bride," reading the title aloud. "Well, with a title like that, it's no wonder it didn't make it to the best seller list, but I do like the romantic cover image," she remarked. "So, how's your job?" I asked, shifting the conversation. She returned the book to me, and I promptly stashed it in my backpack. “It’s fine but well, my boyfriend he’s been a bit distant lately. I wanted to talk to you about it. I tried texting you, but you never responded. Where were you anyways? I was thinking of calling your house to see where you were, but I figured no one was home,” she said. My heart raced as the thought of her calling my house crossed my mind, knowing my parents could catch me in a lie. It's a challenge to keep Mr. Smith a secret, especially from Leila, who has a knack for uncovering the truth. Contemplating whether to confide in her, I weighed the risk of adding another person to the list of those who could potentially expose my secret. With a heavy heart, I let out a sigh. We decided to go get lunch at Burrito Place. Following our meal, we decided to take a stroll back to the quad. As we made our way, the mysterious woman with sandy blonde curly hair caught my eye and flashed a warm smile in my direction. "Do you know her?" Leila asked, to which I simply shook my head in response. Leila and I sat on a wooden bench at the center of the quad, we chatted and then Leila excused herself to go to the restroom. I waited for her to come back, absorbing the peaceful atmosphere.
The soft wind
danced through the leaves of the trees, creating a tranquil ambiance around me.
Suddenly, the mysterious woman approached me, taking a seat beside me. My heart
skipped a beat as I tried to compose myself. "Hello, I'm Melanie. We've
never met, but we have a mutual acquaintance in Mr. Smith," she said
calmly. She didn’t sound like Mr. Smith at all; instead, her voice had an
American tone with a hint of a country twang. I was caught off guard by her
surprising introduction, my eyes going wide in disbelief. As I studied her
appearance, I couldn't help but notice the details of her outfit. She wore a
stylish brown leather vest adorned with zippers, paired with an off-white
cotton blouse with rolled-up sleeves that reached her elbows. Her faded
button-front jeans and black flat-heeled boots completed the casual yet chic
ensemble. The mysterious woman exuded an air of confidence and intrigue,
leaving me curious about her connection to Mr. Smith. "Yes, I understand
that this may be overwhelming, but I assure you, I have no ill intentions
towards you," she stated calmly as I distanced myself from her, creating a
physical barrier by placing my backpack between us. I finally asked, "Who
are you and how do you know him?"
"I used to be
his companion long ago," she revealed, leaving me speechless and unable to
articulate the myriads of emotions swirling within me. "My name is
Melanie, at least in this current body I am," she added, meeting my gaze
with intensity. She shook my hand, and my throat felt dry as I struggled to
comprehend her words. "This body?" I managed to utter. Melanie nodded
in response, prompting me to take a deep breath before asking, "What
exactly do you mean by that?"
"Mr. Smith
must have shared some details with you," she continued, and I nodded in
confirmation.
I know he told me that he took a man’s body, but this was something different. "We were partners in a distant past, inhabiting human bodies as we traversed through time and space," Melanie explained, causing my heart to ache with the realization that he had kept this significant part of his life hidden from me but to be fair, he just didn’t reveal it to me, he was afraid that I would reject him, and I probably would’ve. You can’t imagine how much it hurt me knowing that Melanie was his first companion. Overwhelmed with a mix of emotions, I hesitantly asked, "What happened between you two?" Although a part of me dreaded the answer, I needed to know the truth behind their shared history. “Did he ever change his body?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask. "To the best of my knowledge, he is currently in his first body, as I am," she said, glancing nervously around, clearly hoping to avoid being seen with me by anyone, especially a particular individual I suspect. I couldn't help but wonder about the potential consequences if Mr. Smith were to find out - would he resort to violence or simply sever all ties with me. The uncertainty weighed heavily on my mind as I let out a sigh. "I made the decision to part ways with him due to irreconcilable differences," she finally confessed, her fingers absentmindedly toying with a thick leather bracelet that seemed to hold more significance than just a piece of jewelry. In the middle of her wristband, there was a watch; it reminded me of Mr. Smith’s watch.
“Mr. Smith found this
body for me, and here I am. I have no plans to transfer into another body if
this one should die," she explained. I gazed at her skeptically. She then
stared sincerely into my eyes and said, "I would like you to be my
companion. Let's travel together, it will be fun," she proposed
enthusiastically, catching me off guard. I was shocked that she offered to take
me with her, but I don’t trust her. However, the knowledge she has about Mr.
Smith might prove useful and I want to know more about him, more than what he
would ever tell me. I gulped and said, “I don’t know if I should come with you,
but I’ll think about it,” I told her. She nodded, “Okay, you do that, in the
meantime if I were you, I would get on birth control.” Rising to her feet, she
prepared to depart. "Hold on a sec, what are you saying? I can't come out
pregnant. He's from another planet, he’s an alien, we are of a different
species." She chuckled and set her arms akimbo. "Oh Birdie, you're so
naive." Leaning down, she planted a kiss on my forehead. "Just be
careful," she advised me, her gaze filled with sincerity. She genuinely
looked worried for me. I should’ve taken offense for what she said, “Naïve,
as if,” I pondered, however she’s right. I should’ve seen it, but I didn’t
see the red flags that were blatantly in my face. Leila's expression turned
serious as she made her way towards me, her eyes fixed on Melanie's retreating
figure. "Who is that? Do you know her?" she asked, her curiosity
piqued. Sensing the gravity of the situation, I suggested we continue the
conversation in a more private setting. "There's something I want to talk
to you about. We should go to my house because this is going to take a
while," I said.
