The room she had been renting in Detroit wasn’t the nicest, the drafts from outside keeping her cool enough that when she opened the window to air out the stench of the place, she’d have to put extra layers on. Propped up on her bed she was doodling idly listening in to the conversation happening in the room next to hers, the man sounded far more interested than the woman did, to be sure. As a breeze blew through, making the tattered dingy curtains of dance she shivered and then looked down scowling as she realized she'd drawn a line across the cornfield on the paper.

Turning the page, she resumed sketching, this time it was the old baseball diamond next to the cornfield they had played on growing up. She tried to keep the details vague, so no one would accidentally find the notebook and have her committed. “Sir, that’s a Furby” she could see the conversation in her mind already. “Well at least I know I’d finally get an endless hug.” She thought picturing herself in a Straight Jacket, “And endless naps.” She tapped the end of the pen against her face while thinking about how quickly she’d be locked away if she didn’t watch herself.

The couple next door moved on from conversation to rounding the bases for a home run as she resumed her sketching of one of America’s favorite pastimes while wondering how the hell she was going to earn enough money to get out of this dump and into something that wasn’t trying to kill her. “He shoots, he Scoreeees” she stage whispered, as the man let out a particularly intense noise before it went silent. “Looks like it’s a foul ball for the catcher.” She added before having to bury her face in the pillow to muffle her laughter.

Once the laughter has stopped, she rolled over to trace a finger over the lines on the page, her mind whirling. “There has gotta be something” she muttered until it hit her, causing her to sit bolt upright, knocking the notepad and pen to the floor with a clatter. “You fucking IDIOT.” She told herself as she got to her feet, grabbing her coat and pulling it on.

One of the benefits of being a Chicago Suburban kid is your family all grew up in the area. This meant that not only were her Grandparents in Chicago, which was weird to think about and seemed like a future Jen adventure but also that you picked a team and you stuck by them from birth. Passed on from generation to generation, and here she was with a wealth of knowledge about the Chicago Cubs, in a time when they were just about to get the GOAT.

She ran out of the boarding house and onto the street, “Chicago, I need to get to Chicago.” She muttered, ignoring the voices calling to her about curfew and payments. As the winter wind of the Mid-west hit her face, she bundled herself tighter and started heading down the street, not looking where she was going and instead was thinking about stats and figures from games that she had thought were long past. Rounding a corner, she didn’t see a patch of black ice, and not used to the stupid footwear of the 30s, she ended up sprawled out on her ass, hands scraped and bleeding. “God fucking damnit!” she yelled

Runa was waiting on the sidewalk, leaning against a lamppost and pretending to read a newspaper as her eyes glanced up to the window above her. She was dressed in an inconspicuous dark green jacket with a matching scarf, leather boots, and brown slacks. When the noises started, Runa stopped looking up; she didn't want to seem like a creep. Still, her ears did perk up a bit. Celia was very, very good at what she did, based on the man's noises wafting out of the second story window. Yes, she suspected Celia would be down within an hour or so, and she'd have the information that Runa was looking for. 

But instead of the redhead she expected, a woman Runa had never seen before sprinted out from the apartment building and proceeded to sprint off down the sidewalk until she ate it skidding on a patch of ice. 

Runa approached cautiously.

"Uh... hey. You okay there, lady?"

"Why yes, of course I'm just dandy. Meant to go ice skating and tear the shit out of my hands." she glanced down at the damage and started picking bits of dirt and pebble out of the scrapes, "Couldn't have hit my head though, no nothing like that for me." she muttered to herself before realizing she was being a bit rude, and her Ma would pull her ear if she could see her now. "Sorry," she said quickly looking up at the woman, "Damn... Nice clothes." she scooted a bit to the side and started to struggle to her feet. 

"I would say I know how to dress, but that'd be a lie and a half, but I do know that the squirrel didn't know what he was doing in the shop." she was saying in a rambling fashion while trying to get to her feet. Still trying to find her legs in life and on this sidewalk, she realized this woman probably had the ability to either rob her of her tens of dollars, or murder her. "Hey, lady, I'm Poo' ok?" she said to her, "So poor I can't even afford the R." 

Runa studied the woman carefully. 

"Did you want to hit your head hard? And what... squirrel? Do you live here? I'm meeting someone, but she should be another few minutes. Do you need help getting back to your room? Do you have bandages?"

Then she shook her head.

"And sorry, I don't usually give money to beggars unless they can do something for me. But if you're willing to do me a favor or two, I could help you out with some cash."

She laughed, "I know I look like shit, but I had assumed I was dressed a step or two about beggar." she told her as she got to her feet, "Sorry," she said sheepishly as she rubbed her hands on her clothes and then winced and looked down where the smears of blood now decorated her, "The squirrel, Foamy, small hairy rodenty thing." she said, holding a hand down by her side to show the height, "Right hand to Indifference, Mentor of me and also the one who picked out my clothes when I found myself.. "she started coughing, "Anyway, I'm new, I'm still working on the assumption that everyone is gonna stab me or rob me." She said with a shrug, "Just that time of night, I suppose." 

Runa scowled. 

"Hey, you're the one talking about how poor you are, but no need to apologize. And, uh, I've met your squirrel friend. I was a little worried that I was hallucinating or that I'd hit my head, but..."

She shrugged.

"... I guess America is just... unique. And I mean, if you had any money I might rob you, but you did just finish telling me how poor you are, so I'm not sure there'd be much of a point to it. So did you need help? Or are you all set?"

Runa glanced up again to where Celia was working; she hadn't heard anything for a while, but wasn't sure how long it'd been. Her discussion with this girl had distracted her.

She nodded her head, "I actually do come to think of it." she looked around quickly as the gunshots started to fill the air. "I barely know you, lady, but I wasn't kidding about hitting my head." she told her. "I'm not from here, not Detroit and certainly not this era." her eyes went wide as @Tammy 's Apron caught her eye in the night of Detroit, "LOOK OUT!" she yelled, shoving @RunaKatte out of the way. As Tammy pulled the trigger Jen's stupid fucking dainty lady shoes made contact with the black ice once more, causing her legs to fly out from under her, her arms to flail and her ever useless gun to fly from her fingers. Her last thought before her head made contact with the pavement was, "She's going down, we're yelling timberrrr". 

There was a thud and the gunshots from the streets of Detroit faded, leaving silence. And on the black ice where you would expect a small woman's body to be, there was only some dumb ass T-strap heels that were very popular for the time era. But she was gone. 

With a groan Jen sat up from where she had fallen over her bed, "oh god, Foamy I feel like I've died a thousand times, and want to die once more." she said as she put her hand to her forehead, feeling the knot there from the contact with the half wall, or was it the pavement. The low electric hum of the washing machine and dryer were the first things she noticed, causing her to try to sit up quickly but ended up getting tangled in her bedspread and sheets. Thrashing she yelled out, "MA, MA, MAAAA!" before the door to her room was thrown open and before her stood a woman who was older, short hair curled and teased, a frown on her face. 

"What Little Jenny?" she asked and Jen stopped thrashing and grinned, "Whats for dinner?" she asked, happy to know that she had done it somehow, she had made it home.