Chapter 7: A Voice in the Dark

She could feel herself floating. Blind and unable to speak, she was helplessly lost in a fog. Just as panic started to set in, she heard a voice in the dark. "Come quick everyone! I think she's waking up."

A squeeze of her hand accompanied the voice. While she didn't know where she was, the woman's voice was comforting, and strangely familiar. She moved toward it as if it were a beacon on a starless night.

Perfume, soap, salt, coal oil, and an animal musky smell greeted her as she moved closer to the shore. A chorus of female voices encouraged her. "Is she awake? Did she say something? I told you she was going to be alright. Should someone get the doctor?"

"Ladies ... ladies," another woman's voice, familiar like the first, spoke with an air of authority. "Everyone calm down, and there's no need to get Doctor Mike yet. Let me check her temperature first."

It was then that feeling began to return. She could feel the cool wet cloth across her forehead and eyes. Softness, warmth and weight told her she was swaddled in a blanket or comforter. A gentle rhythmic rocking sensation said she was in a cradle, a swing or possibly even aboard ship.

When the cloth was lifted from her head it was replaced by the gentle touch and soft voice of the woman in charge. "Oh thank heavens, the fever's broken.," she said with a relieved sigh. "I think she's going to be alright now. She probably just needs to rest."

"I ... I heard her say something"', came the first voice she'd heard. "I was just sitting reading one of her stories. It was a romance ... a really good romance too with this fellow named Fitzwilliam."

"Oh for heaven's sake," she was cut off mid ramble. "What did she say?"

"Well ... come to think of it, she wasn't really talking. It was more like she was singing."

"Singing?"

"I didn't recognize the song though. It was something about green skies and ummm ... blue hills. Or maybe that was the other way around? And I'm pretty sure she said something about the smell of pie was in the air."

She paused in thought, "Well ... it was something like that, but it was really hard to tell because honestly her voice was a little flat."

A chorus of giggles filled the air followed by a gentle reprimand from the matron. "She was probably just dreaming or delusional with fever but YOU shouldn't have been snooping through her stories. You might've read something personal."

"It's okay," came a sleepy soft voice. "I stole Fitz from Jane Austen anyway." Adding a slight chuckle for punctuation, before slipping back into a light sleep.

The fact that she spoke caught the girls by surprise and they pushed in around her with excitement. The girl who spoke was even more surprised as the voice echoing in her ears did not sound like her own, but like the voices around her, it too was strangely familiar.

Desperately needing answers, she began pushing toward the light and the voices around her. Finally, her eyes fluttered open. At first the images were gray and distorted like an old aerial television picture, but slowly they drew color and focus.

The smell of coal oil did belong to a lamp hanging near her. Wood, she was surrounded by huge wooden beams, both bowed and straight. She could make out the patches of the quilt that covered her, but none of these things shed any light on where she was or how she'd gotten there.

As the images of those around her slowly came into focus, she hoped their faces would be as familiar as their voices. She saw silhouettes of women with hair neatly pinned up and wearing high collar dresses with lace.

"Look! Her eyes are open! She's awake!" Suddenly she was swarmed with hugs and well wishes. "Oh thank goodness you're awake. We were all so worried. Dr. Mike's been here day and night for two weeks and we've all taken turns at nurse."

Finally someone shouted, "Go find Doctor Mike and tell her Maggie's awake!"

Chapter 8: Maggie

"Maggie?" Her mind searched the name. They called her Maggie, but she knew that wasn't her name, not her real name. Her real name was just out of focus like the faces of the women around her.

Her brain was still fighting the fog, but when finally it lifted from her eyes and those familiar voices matched familiar faces. She reached out toward the auburn haired beauty sitting next to her on the bed. "I know you ... you're Candy ... Candy Pruitt."

Candy smiled and took her hand as she looked into the face of the girl on her right and then to the others crowding her bed. "And you're Biddie ... and your Becky .... and your Ruth ... and your Elizabeth ... and ... and I know all of you don't I?"
.
Biddie giggled. "Well I should certainly hope so after spending six months together on a mule boat "

Most of the ladies laughed but Candy's eyes were filled with concern as she squeezed her shipmate's hand. "Are you alright Maggie? You've been sick with a fever for almost two weeks. You really had us worried."

"And a certain Bolt brother was pretty worried too." Biddie teased her playfully as the other ladies joined in, but Candy saw the glazed look in Maggie's eyes.

She shook her hand, "Maggie ..Maggie ... can you hear me?"

Maggie could hear her but she couldn't respond. Her mind was busy trying to make sense out of what she had just seen and heard. She knew everyone there and they knew her but how did they know each other? Maggie ... Maggie ... that was her name and yet something told her it wasn't. A six months cruise on a mule boat and the name Bolt were both so familiar, but why and how?

Almost on cue, memories of a life seemingly left behind overloaded the
circuits and she struggled to process it all. The answers weren't complete and came in gulps from the information dump but suddenly she realized who she was, who they were and exactly where she was ... which incidentally ... there was no way in the real world she could be.

She pulled her hand from Candy's and sank back against her pillow. "I'm not Maggie ... I ... I'm Katie and none of this is real ... not the ship ... not the lamp ... not this quilt ... none of it."

"Maggie," Candy tried to calm her as the other women stepped back. "Listen to me. You're just confused from the fever. Trust me ... your name is Maggie and everything around you is real ... right down to the smell of this mule boat."

Kate refused to accept what she saw and heard, "No ... no ... no! This can't be real. You can't be real. It’s ridiculous! I mean ... how can I be ... how can I possibly be ..." Her voice trailed off as she retreated into her mind to finish the impossible sentence. "In the middle of one of my favorite classic television shows? "

Everyone and everything seemed so real right down to the ruffles and lace. She wondered if it could be a dream, but dismissed that theory as no dream could be this real. Insanity was always an option in her case but something told her she hadn't gone round the bend ... at least not yet.

With no logical explanation at hand, she was reluctantly forced to consider the illogically impossible. Somehow ... someway ... she'd pulled a Pleasantville and stepped right through the TV screen and into the world of Here Comes the Brides. This western comedy-drama set in the 1860's ran but for two seasons from 1968 to 1970, starring (among others) teenage heartthrobs Bobby Sherman and David Soul.

The show is set in Seattle, and centers around the three Bolt brothers risking their mountain and trying to keep their loggers from leaving by bringing in a hundred brides from Massachusetts. It was a ridiculous premise for a show, but she'd loved it. She'd spent hours watching the reruns first with her mother, and then by herself. She knew every episode by heart, and truth be told, she had often daydreamed about being a character on the show.

She never dreamed that day would be today.

Still, even if she could accept that somehow ... someway ... she was really in the middle of a television show come to life, she knew precious little about who she was here, and not much more about her life she'd left behind.

Had she stepped into Candy's or Biddie's character she would have known her life's bio, but whatever magic that had brought her here had created a character for her. There was never a Maggie in any episode. So, aside from the fact that it was the mid 1860's, that she was one of a hundred brides bound for Seattle, and that she'd been bedridden with fever for two weeks, her script in this production was a blank to her.

Her life as Katie was more shadows than substance as well. She knew mostly sketchy details and strange parallels to the one she now inhabited. Both women had left their homes in Massachusetts for a new life in Seattle. Maggie's journey was a six month trek by ship around Cape Horn. Katie's took place 160 years later, with a travel time of about 6 hours, which included a short layover in Denver. From Biddie being caught snooping into her journal, she knew both women loved to write.

There were also distinct differences. All the brides were in their early twenties, while Katie was sneaking up on 30. Another difference was the painful reminder that Katie was a transsexual. Considering the television censors in 1968, Maggie was not. At least the powers that had placed her here had given her an upgrade.

Still the question remained, as she spoke the words aloud. "How in the world did I get here and why?"