Chapter 2

"Where the hell am I?" I asked in a loud voice. I received no answer to my question. I woke up from a dream featuring my high school crush the ever unattainable Christina Harris. Why my subconscious mind decided she'd adorn the movie screen of my dreams was beyond me since I had hardly thought of her in the past decade or so.

I was lying naked on what had to be the most comfortable surface I'd ever relaxed on. My body seemed to be glowing with a golden light that appeared to be coming from my skin. The room was dim, but from what I could see of it, I was in some sort of lab or maybe an examination room.

"Hey! Is anyone here? Where the hell is here anyway?" I yelled as loud as I could.

Suddenly I felt myself getting just a bit drowsy and then it was as if I could feel something probing around in my mind. Memories came flooding back unbidden as I watched my life played out in front of me from my very earliest memories until I prepared myself for bed just hours ago. It was eerie in many ways. First, I didn't seem to have control of things. Second, the clarity and detail of the memories was so great it was almost like living them through again in reality. Third, knowing someone else was learning my most intimate secrets was somewhat humbling. Fourth, I couldn't speak and seemingly had no muscle control at all.

I felt as if many hours had passed while my memories were being studied and then the drowsy feeling became much stronger and I fell into a deep sleep.

"Where the hell am I?" I muttered under my breath as I surveyed my new surroundings. It wasn't really a very original question anymore; not since I'd just asked it a dozen or so hours earlier.

I carefully examined my surroundings noting the countless shelves of books and the quiet atmosphere and realized that I was sitting near the wall of what most certainly had to be a library. The hard oak chair and the table strewn with books certainly didn't conflict with that assumption. On the other hand it was not familiar to me. I didn't recognize this place at all!

"Stop! Calm yourself Brad Farley; after all this Fermilab posting is very new. It's possible there's a library nearby," I tried telling myself though somehow I just knew this wasn't anywhere near the truth.

Maybe if I could look out a window I'd recognize my surroundings a bit better. Ah, there. There's a window quite close by. I noiselessly pushed my chair back and rose to my feet. Crossing the short distance to the window I looked out and tried hard to stifle the gasp I felt rising in my throat. The cars! They all looked like the ones in my father's old magazines! And the people walking along the sidewalk were dressed in clothes that looked like what I'd seen on older television shows. And the Palm Trees! Last I recalled Illinois didn't have Palm Trees!

I looked down to see how I was dressed and discovered that I was wearing an expensive looking suit that looked like what a businessman might wear in the late 1950s or very early 1960s. I walked back to my chair and tried to make sense of everything as best I could.

What had happened to me? How did I get here? Where was here for that matter? And equally important, what year was it? The questions just kept pouring through my mind. All the books spread on my table were titled in English — that was good. Thinking that most libraries have newspapers brought me to my feet again.

I spotted a reference desk and quietly asked "Do you know where I might find today's newspaper?"

"Of course," the attendant answered before proceeding to provide me with instructions to the periodicals section of the library.

One floor closer to street level and I found myself surrounded by magazines and newspapers. On a wooden newspaper spindle with the word "Today" painted in gold on the handle, I found a copy of the New York Times dated Friday December 10, 1963. I found two other "Today" copies of papers one from Los Angeles and the other from Sacramento.

Nervously I stuffed my hands in my pockets which set me off to examine what things I might be carrying. I tried to act casual as I checked the contents of my pant pockets. I found a key ring heavy with keys, a comb, some loose change, and a wallet. Inside the wallet I found a social security card, a few pictures, some currency, and a driver's license. I looked at the license and was very startled to see my face staring back at me in addition to a name I'd never even heard before: Walter M. Stanhope.

"That's it! I've gone nuts! Where are the men in the little white coats? They should be here any moment to take me to the funny farm," I thought to myself.

What the hell was happening to me? I knew that I was Brad Farley, but my license said I was someone else; a Walter M. Stanhope.

"Well at least if I'm going to go off the deep end I can't say this isn't an interesting fantasy world my mind's dreamed up!" I told myself.

Pinching myself to try to wake up wasn't working so I decided I'd better take stock of the situation. My license said I was Walter Stanhope and gave an address of 210 S. Grand Avenue, Los Angeles, California. I had just over two hundred dollars in my wallet. Looking at the currency and seeing the dates the bills were issued really verified things for me. I was in the early 1960s. I was a full grown man living in a time nearly twelve years before my original date of birth. Two hundred dollars seemed like a lot of money to be carrying around — especially in the 1960s.

Realizing I might find more in my suit jacket I searched its pockets as well and found a very fine gold pocket watch with the etched hunting case. In the inner jacket pockets I found a checkbook and what looked like a small journal.

1963. What did I know about this time? Well among my other intellectual pursuits I was a major history buff. Kennedy had just been shot in November of this year. NASA was in its heyday. The Superbowl was still somebody's dream. LA had beaten the Yankees in the World Series. The Celtics should be well on their way to winning yet another championship. The U.S. was just starting to get involved with Vietnam. The Cold War would still be around for many years.

I walked down to the first floor of the library while wondering how many details I knew about this era. I was fiddling with the keys in my pocket while walking out the front door of the library when I decided to pull the key ring out and get a better look. I stood there on the library steps flipping the keys until I found one that was stamped with a Ford Motor Company emblem.

"Damn! This has to be the most detailed dream I've ever had!" I thought as I looked around at the vivid colors, the styling of buildings and cars, and the clothing and hairstyles of the people passing around me. I didn't think I knew this much about the 1960s yet here my subconscious mind was painting this vivid dream.

Back to my current issue: I had found a car key, but what car did it fit?

"Great!" I thought to myself "Now all I have to do is try every Ford in the lot until I figure out which one is mine. Wonderful! Isn't that just peachy? I don't even know my own damn license plate number!"

And then, just as suddenly as I'd thought of needing the license plate number, it was in my head! "Cool! Now if only I knew what kind of car." Suddenly I knew that to! I walked into the parking lot looking for a black 1963 Ford Thunderbird convertible. Soon enough I spotted it and walked over. The top was up; probably gets a bit nippy driving with it down in December even here in LA.

I sat behind the wheel and discovered that everything was adjusted just perfectly. I put the key in the ignition and the engine turned right over and just settled down to a nice purr. I'd spent time in LA on a number of different occasions and though things had changed a lot it still wasn't very difficult to find my way to Grand Avenue and then begin searching for my address.

While driving I began thinking things through again. Yes, this absolutely had to be a dream. Why else was everything so unfamiliar to me? Why the different name? And on top of that how is it that information keeps popping into my head when I need it most? Real life just doesn't work that way!

I found the place soon enough and began to wonder what I'd find when I went inside. Was I married? What was my financial status? How come I wasn't at a job somewhere? For some reason I had experienced almost only a minimum amount of panic at discovering my strange situation and even the absence of the panic raised questions in me. Why aren't I upset about all of this?

I drove into the drive and parked the car and just waited for a moment or two. While I was sitting there I decided to take a good look at my check book. The ledger showed a balance of more than twenty five thousand dollars. Who keeps that kind of money in a checking account? Most people wouldn't consider it in 2005 let alone 1963.

The home I was parked in front of was rather nice. I know this whole area would end up being redeveloped with much taller buildings sometime in the future. I noticed a large and somewhat clunky looking box with one button sitting next to me on the front seat and pressed it. The garage door opened and I pulled the car into the empty slot.

When I got out of the car I headed for what was obviously the door into the house. Next to the door was another push button. I pressed it and the garage door began to close. Just before it shut all of the way I found the light switch and flipped it on. I checked the time on my pocket watch and discovered that it was about three in the afternoon. I tried about six keys that looked like they might fit before coming across the right one.

Once the door was unlocked I walked in and took a look around. The place was nicely decorated, spacious, and immaculately kept. I was trying to get a feel for just how big it was. It looked to be at least three stories tall from the outside and showed signs of a basement. It probably had to be at least six thousand square feet without the basement. I hadn't made any noise up till now and realized once again that I had just no idea what my situation was. Did I live alone? Was I married? Perhaps even married with kids? Maybe I had a live in girlfriend or housekeeper. I just didn't have a clue.

Something really strange, especially considering just how many questions I had flowing through my mind, was that I hadn't yet become worried about the how or why of my presence in 1963 or how I might get back to my life in 2005. But wait, that's because this is all a dream — right?

I decided I'd rather call out and ask if anyone was home instead of quietly sneaking around; after all this was supposed to be my house — dream or not. "Hello? Is anybody home?" I called out in a loud but calm voice.

"Oh! You're home early sir! I'll be right down in just a moment," a pleasant female voice called down.

A minute or two went by and then I saw an attractive Hispanic woman who looked to be in her early twenties coming down the stairs. She was dressed in a French maid's outfit and as soon as I saw her face I knew her name was Juanita. A little more pondering of her delightful form and I had more details. She was my live-in housekeeper and had a room of her own on the third floor. Alright! Now this was more along the lines of my kind of dream!

"I thought you said you were going to the library to do some research sir. You've only been gone for an hour or so. Did you find everything you needed?"

"Uh, yes — for now at least," I replied.

"That was fast. You beat Hattie home," Juanita commented.

"Oh? Hattie isn't back yet?" I said trying to bluff my way into some new information.

"No. She was going to the store and then planned to stop at the farmer's market for some really fresh produce. It's a drive you know! I went with her the one time. I think she has some special desert planned for tonight."

Hattie? Oh yes! Hattie was my live-in cook. I wondered how many others lived in my home.

"Well I guess we'll just have to wait and see what special treat Hattie prepares for us," I said.

I strolled around the home just kind of looking everywhere still getting a feel for things. Juanita was quietly following me around — probably trying to figure out what I was doing.

I found a great room with a large fire place, a library, a home office, a lavish bathroom, a kitchen, and a dining room on the first floor. The second floor had a music room, a recreation room, a guest suite, and an enormous master suite. The third floor had a shared bathroom and four bedrooms; two of the bedrooms appeared to be unused. I was guessing that one of the rooms was Juanita's and the other Hattie's.

Realizing that Juanita was still very curious about my little survey of the place I asked "What do you think Juanita? Do we need to do a little redecorating or are things alright for now?"

"It's a lovely home sir. I don't think it's out of date or anything, but of course it's your home sir. You should do as you wish."

"I suppose," I replied as I headed back down to the master suite. "I'm going to change out of my suit and take a little nap Juanita."

I was somewhat surprised when she followed me down the stairs and into the master suite. She came up behind me and helped me out of my jacket which she carefully hung up in the closet after emptying the pockets out onto a tray on the large dresser. I was waiting for her to leave the room but she just stood there as if she still had some unperformed task, so I began to unbutton my shirt. Once my shirt was off, Juanita took it from me and placed it in the clothes hamper. Next she knelt down and untied my shoes before helping me off with them and my socks. She put the socks in the hamper and placed my shoes on a shoe rack in the large walk in closet.

I stood there for a moment waiting to see if she was ready to leave the room yet; when she remained I began to take off my suit pants. Juanita took them from me and once again placed the contents of the pockets on the tray and then hung the pants neatly in the closet.

Next the attractive young woman walked over to the bed and rolled the covers back for me and fluffed up the pillows. Her maid's costume revealed quite a bit of cleavage as she moved around me and the short length of the skirt showed off her gorgeous legs to good advantage. I had a bit of an erection when she turned back towards me and her eyes lit right on it.

"Would you like my help with that sir?" Juanita asked as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.