I dragged myself out of bed Sunday morning way too early for my liking - still before noon. It wasn't because I felt the need to go to church - I don't think I'd ever even stepped foot in a church - but because I had errands to run. Later in the afternoon I was expected to be at Ian's place for the Caldwell's last-day-of-summer barbeque. This was a tradition dating back all the way to the second grade, when I first met Ian, and there was no possible way I'd be able to get out of it.

The kitchen was suspiciously lacking food containing any nutritional value, so a trip to the grocery store was in order. I'd always thought it possible to keep myself going off Pop Tarts and Oreos, but that was a bit harder to do now that Ian had a habit of tattling to his mother, Nora, that I wasn't eating properly. Being dragged through the grocery store, forced to endure a lecture over what to buy to have a well balanced diet, was humiliating enough. I had no desire to repeat the experience.

I stood at the sink in the kitchen and ate a bowl of cornflakes, guzzled down some orange juice, and then padded my way back down the hallway to the bathroom. I took a quick shower and pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, didn't bother with any makeup, and left the apartment.

I climbed into my Pontiac Sunfire parked at the curb and took off for the grocery store. Shopping for food wasn't something I liked to do very often, so I tended to buy things in bulk to minimize my trips to the store. I settled on going to King Soopers, and parked up front by the entrance before getting out to find a shopping cart.

Being the person that I was, I spent about five minutes trying to free a cart from the mess of them by the entrance. I was making such a racket I was surprised no one had taken pity on me yet and come over to help.

I let out a triumphant shout when I finally managed to free one of the shopping carts, and then there was a loud groan from behind me, and a grumble of, "What in god's name...?"

I was afraid to turn around, because there was only one person I'd ever heard use that phrase. The universe would never be so cruel, though. Definitely not. But sure enough, when I finally forced myself to look over my shoulder, the guy I stumbled across yesterday in the girls' restroom at the mall was sitting up on a nearby bench, knocking a mess of newspapers off his lap.

"You've got to be shitting me."

His head whipped up and his eyes widened as his gaze fixed on me, and then he was leaping off the bench with surprising grace, making straight for me with a shout of, "You! Madam, please! I need your help!"

"Listen, pal," I said, grabbing my cart, heading for the store entrance. "I can't help you, so leave me alone!"

"Madam, I beg of you - "

"Quit calling me madam! My name is Callie, I told you."

"Then would you kindly stop referring to me as pal? I believe I told you my name is Percy."

Percy wasn't even breaking a sweat keeping up pace with me even though I was practically sprinting trying to get away from him.

We were getting several curious stares as I whisked through the automatic doors into the store. 

Percy looked even worse than he had yesterday. His suit was bordering on never-been-washed territory, and he was way past a five o'clock shadow. I was a little relieved to see that he'd cleaned the cut on his forehead, though it looked like it could still use some antibiotic ointment.

"Okay, then, Percy," I said, racing down the cereal aisle. "Would you quit following me? You're really starting to freak me out. How the hell did you even wind up over here anyway? The mall isn't even near this King Soopers."

The chances of running into this guy again were one in a million. I couldn't understand why the universe had to be so evil as to pick me to be that one. I came to an abrupt halt when Percy moved in front of me, grabbing the shopping cart, effectively blocking my way.

"I am not accustomed to confronting young ladies such as yourself, but I am at my wit's end." He looked and sounded desperate as he spoke, his voice low and intense. "So please. Help me. I just want to go home."

His grey eyes were burning as he looked at me, and I could feel my resolve beginning to weaken. Hearing him say, "I just want to go home," and the expression on his face made me feel legitimately sorry for him. Even if he was quite possibly a lunatic, it was clear that this was not his home. And even if you occasionally despised home, you could miss it like a physical ache when you were in an unfamiliar place. That I could at least understand.

Make no mistake, I still wanted to book it to Timbuktu, but call me an idiot because I had some small desire to help him...if only to get him to leave me alone.

Weren't we taught in elementary school to always lend a helping hand? And what harm could it really do?

I probably didn't want an answer to that question.

"Ugh." I let out a groan, scrubbing my face with my hands. "Fine. Fine! I'll help you."

Percy's shoulders slumped as he gripped the shopping cart for support, sighing heavily. "Thank you. You have no idea how much I - "

"Yeah, okay, save it," I said. "You're grateful, I get it, but don't thank me just yet. I have no idea what to do with you. So you're going to help me grocery shop while I think of a plan."

I realized this was hardly the most ideal situation, but I really didn't want to make a second trip out to go shopping, and I was already here. As unsettling as the thought was, chances were it was going to take a very long time to get Percy back to wherever the hell he came from. Or ditch him the first possible chance I got. Grocery shopping wasn't going to change that. And if I was going to have to put up with him, he might as well make himself useful.

"Alright," Percy said with a nod, though the expression on his face made it seem he was less than pleased with this. "I suppose I can assist you."

"Thanks," I said dryly. "You're a peach."

"I beg your pardon? I'm a piece of fruit?"

"Metaphors are going to fly right over that pretty little head of yours, aren't they?"

"...I have a pretty head?"

I had to grab at my hand to physically stop myself from smacking myself in the forehead. I suspected it was going to be a challenge not doing that around Percy the majority of the time.

"C'mon," I muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

I took off down the cereal aisle and Percy followed alongside me, like my own personal bodyguard with a dirty suit and an English accent.

I stopped to grab a box of Fruity Pebbles, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and Cocoa Pebbles, and chucked them all in the cart. Percy stopped looking like the end of the world was approaching, and stared down at the boxes of cereal with great interest.

"It's cereal," I said when he'd been examining the cereal for a good minute. "You've never had cereal before?"

I should have known the answer to that question - I doubted cereal was something served at breakfast in 1887 very often - but it slipped out before I could stop it. I mean, who hadn't ever had Fruity Pebbles before? Fruity Pebbles were apart of my childhood.

Percy looked up at me with an expression of such distaste I thought the skin was going to melt off my face.

"Obviously this Fruity Pebbles has never been apart of my diet," he said, highly offended.

I really did try to keep it back, but Percy looked so indignant it was impossible not to crack up laughing.

"And what, pray tell, is so amusing?" he demanded angrily.

It was hard to take him seriously in that raggedy getup, which just added to the hilarity of the situation. He might as well have been some kitten all riled up and ready to attack with adorable ferocity. It made me want to pinch his cheeks and coo at him.

"Sorry, but will you say Fruity Pebbles like that again so I can record it? I want to make it my ringtone."

"I will not."

I laughed even harder, and Percy's face took on this pinched look like he'd just eaten something sour.

"Okay, okay, I'm done laughing," I said once I'd gotten my breath back. "Promise."

"I've always understood women, while the fairer sex, to be a bit peculiar, but women in this century are so...so unusual."

"Honey, I wrote the rulebook on unusual."

"Really? I find that very difficult to believe, but I suppose if - "

I sighed. It was going to be a very long day.

It took us three hours to get through the grocery store. Three hours, and King Soopers wasn't even that big. Normally I could be in and out in under a half hour if I put my mind to it, but Percy made that impossible.

The more questions he pestered me with, the easier it was to believe he actually wasn't from this century.

"So this is modern-day electricity? How does it work? When was it invented, better yet? In my lifetime? And who - "

Here I had to cut him off and tell him that if he was a good Victorian gentleman and quit asking questions, I'd take him to see an electrician, and he could pester them to his heart's content.

He lasted being quiet for about five seconds, but when we made it to the frozen food section, I swear he lost his shit.

"Now what is this?" Percy got a little too up close and personal with one of freezers, reaching out to touch it. "Why, it's cold!"

"This is what we call a freezer," I said, gnawing at my lip to keep from busting out laughing again. "It's the advanced version of an icebox."

"Fascinating," he breathed, tapping a finger against the glass. "How does it work?"

"It all goes back to electricity," I told him.

"Is everything in this day and age related to electricity?"

"Basically. It ties in with instant gratification."

I nudged him aside and grabbed a box of Eggo chocolate chip waffles, but before I could chuck it into the cart, Percy snatched it from me and said with a wistful sigh, "Finally, something I recognize."

"You've had Eggo waffles before?" I said, caught off guard.

"Not...Eggo," Percy said, the word sounding incredibly strange coming out of his mouth. "But waffles. Oh, our chef makes the most delightful liege waffles with marmalade and powdered - "

"Hold up there before you start drooling," I warned him. "Those aren't waffles commissioned by God or anything. They're toaster waffles. You buy them when you're too lazy to make a proper breakfast. So...leggo my Eggo."

I laughed to myself as I grabbed the box of waffles from Percy and tossed them into the cart. It was a shame such a brilliant line was lost on him.

I was expecting another bold remark about how weird girls were as I pushed the cart towards the frozen dinners, but what I heard instead was, "What is a toaster?"

I refrained from answering that, hoping if I kept quiet Percy would stop asking questions. That worked for a few minutes before he struck up a running commentary about his first trip to the grocery store, and then I heard a few gems like, "Refrigeration is such a fascinating concept," and, "Why would anyone ever consume a product called goldfish?" and even, "Do you really think this is suitable food for tea?"

I told him that after the whole Boston Tea Party thing, America hadn't really gotten into the whole idea of tea like the English. I promised to take him to a Starbucks as a substitution.

My personal favorite was when we were loading our groceries onto the conveyor belt at the checkout line and Percy just so happened to catch an eyeful of a girl behind us wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt that barely covered the essentials. His face turned the color of a brick, and he quickly averted his gaze, almost dropping a quart of milk.

I had to give him credit for not collapsing on the spot. History wasn't my favorite subject, but I knew that in Victorian times, it wasn't appropriate for women to ever show as much skin as this girl was. No wonder Percy looked like he was about to have a hernia. Thankfully, he kept any comments about prostitutes to himself this time.

Percy seemed to put the scantily clad girl from his mind and peered over my shoulder as I paid for the groceries.

"That's, ah...quite different from any ready money I've ever seen before," he noted.

"Yeah, well, United States currency isn't what it used to be," I said.

The cashier stared at us like we were speaking gibberish as she handed over my change.

"He's English," I told her, like that explained everything. "This is his first time in the States."

"Right," the cashier said.

I pushed the cart out to the parking lot where my Pontiac was parked, Percy following along behind me, and popped the trunk to offload the groceries.

"I've seen contraptions such as yours around this area," Percy said as he dropped a bag full of strawberries into the trunk, "but what is it?"

"This, Percy, is an automobile," I answered. "It replaced horse drawn carriages around the turn of the twentieth century."

"Fascinating," he murmured, reaching out to touch the side of the car. "But how does it work?"

"Get in and I'll show you."

Percy whipped his head around and gave me a horrified look, like I'd just asked him to give me his first born child.

"What?" he squeaked.

I should've expected this. If Percy got sidetracked by refrigerators, he probably wouldn't handle cars very well.

"Look, Percy," I said, trying not to sound too exasperated. "We're not going to get anywhere in the King Soopers parking lot."

"Ah, yes, but I don't think - "

"I promise you will be just fine," I said, holding up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

I returned the cart to the store, and on my way back to the car, I saw Percy peering in through the passenger side window, and it seemed as if he didn't like what he was seeing.

My cellphone vibrating in my pocket, spewing out "Turn Down for What" kept me from heaving another sigh.

"Hey," Ian said when I answered. "You on your way over yet?"

"Shit!"

"Don't tell me you forgot about the barbeque. My mom'll have your hide if you're not here, and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that, Ian, but I've got a little problem."

A little problem might have been downplaying it, but I didn't want to give him the full details over the phone. The Lord knew this was going to be hard enough to explain.

"Problem?" Ian sighed. "What mess have you gotten yourself into now, Callie?"

"A nineteenth century one," I said. "And I'm gonna need your help."

I hung up with Ian after telling him I'd be right over, and went to deal with Percy, who had now braced himself against the car, resting his forehead against the window, and he was keeping up a quiet mantra of, "I'm not going to die, I'm not going to die."

That was definitely reassuring.

"Alright, Percy," I said to him. "I promise you, you're going to be just fine, but I'm going to need you to move."

Percy sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, and nodded, shuffling to the side. I unlocked the door and held it open for him, gesturing for him to get in. His movements were jerky as he slipped inside and dropped into the seat with a loud huff, gripping the edges tightly.

"Now put the seat belt on," I coached gently, gritting my teeth. "It's illegal to drive without one."

When Percy just sat there, staring blankly at me, I grabbed the seat belt and leaned over to buckle him in. He threw himself back against the seat, sucking in air through his teeth at our proximity. I was surprised he didn't start crying.

"Don't flatter yourself, buddy," I muttered, leaning away.

Percy was in desperate need of a brown paper bag by the time I parked at the curb outside the Caldwell's house. He'd shoved his head between his legs, and I could hear him sucking in deep, gasping breaths.

I was trying very hard to feel sympathetic. If by some wild stretch of the imagination this was all true and Percy really was from the year 1887, being in a car for the first time would definitely be a frightening experience.

I leaned my head against the steering wheel, silently telling myself to get a grip. This was a manageable situation. We could definitely get Percy back to wherever it was he came from. Hell, I might even settle for coming up with a plan to get him to go off on his own merry little way and leave me alone. Positive visualization was key. I was shit at doing just that, but it never hurt to try.

I gave Percy a few minutes to calm down and waited for his breathing to return to normal. He sat up with a huff, his face still a sickly green as he looked around.

"Where are we?" he asked just as the front door opened and Ian stepped out, wearing a pair of board shorts and a Cherry Creek High School football shirt. "Is that your husband?"

Percy's comment involuntarily triggered my gag reflex. It wasn't that Ian wasn't attractive or anything, because he was. He'd filled out nicely thanks to football, and he could snag any girl with his smile and those baby blue eyes of his. But I'd been friends with Ian when he pooped his pants on a field trip to the Denver Aquarium when we were in the second grade. The thought of being married to Ian was just as disturbing to me as marrying the school janitor.

"Dude." I tried not to snap at Percy. He really didn't know any better. It was probably common for girls younger than me to have already been married off by now in his time. "I'm seventeen. I'm not even sure it's legal to get married without parental consent at my age."

Percy frowned. and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him mouth the word dude.

"Ian's my best friend," I continued. "He's a good guy."

Percy nodded curtly. "I trust your judgment."

"Good. Now get out of the car."

I leaned over and unbuckled his seatbelt. He managed to open the door on his own, but personally, I thought he was being a little too dramatic when he tumbled out onto the Caldwell's front lawn.

Ian stopped halfway down the driveway and watched with a blank expression on his face as Percy stumbled his way to his feet.

"You get a new boyfriend?" Ian said, eyebrows raised as I slammed the car door.

"Remember on the phone I told you I had a nineteenth century problem?" I asked, walking around the car to Percy's side.

Ian nodded, eyes fixed on Percy. "I don't know what the hell you meant, though."

"Ian, this is Percy," I said, introducing them.

Percy stopped fiddling with his suit jacket and looked up at Ian, nodding his head respectfully. "Percy Townsend, at your service."

"Name's Ian," Ian said, taking in all of Percy. "Are you for real?"

Percy looked confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"This is what I mean by nineteenth century problem," I said, clapping Percy on the shoulder. "I found Percy here on the floor in the bathroom at the mall. He says he's from 1887 London."

Ian's eyebrows shot up his forehead as he choked out a laugh. "Seriously? Are you tripping on something, Percy?"

Percy's eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, and his lips pressed together tightly - not quite the pout I'd already come to recognize, but I could definitely tell he wasn't happy.

"Mr. Caldwell, as I have already informed Miss Callie here, I am not intoxicated or anything of the sort. I am quite serious, I assure you. I was born January the third, the year of our Lord 1868."

As Ian hadn't had the Q&A I'd endured at the King Soopers not a half hour ago, I couldn't blame him for looking unconvinced. I wasn't even sure I believed it all myself.

"And you just expect us to believe you?" Ian shook his head, looking to me as he gave an exasperated sigh. "Callie, how do you always wind up in - "

"Look, Ian," I said. "I know this all seems a little farfetched, but the guy really isn't from here. I thought he was messing me around until he just about jizzed in his pants seeing a freezer for the first time."

"Precisely," Percy said. "Never before in my life have I - sorry, pardon me, but I did what in my - "

"See what I mean?" I said to Ian. "Something isn't sitting right with this guy. I'm usually an asshole, I know, but Percy just looks so pathetic I feel like we should - "

"I am not pathetic," Percy snapped, sounding very put out. "To be perfectly honest, I'm frightened. Wouldn't you feel the same if you woke up in a...a woman's toilet and discovered you've been thrown one hundred twenty seven years into the future?"

His voice cracked as he finished speaking, and with the way he was glowering at Ian, I thought he might actually start crying. He'd obviously had time to think about the situation if he'd already done the math.

"You do know this sounds like a load of bullshit, right?" Ian said flatly.

"Probably," I agreed. "But...I still feel like we should help him."

"That is all I ask of you," Percy said, quite serious. "Your assistance."

We stood there on the front lawn for several tense moments. I knew Ian better than I probably knew myself, but I had no idea how he would react. He finally let out an aggravated sigh, rolling his eyes skyward.

"I'm not saying I believe you, okay?" he said, pointing a threatening finger at Percy. "If I find out you're screwing with us, I'll lay you out. You get me?"

Percy blinked, his mouth open to respond, but nothing came out except, "What?"

I gave Ian a look that said you see what I mean?

"Stupid," I heard Ian mutter, shaking his head. "Come on. If there's one person who'll believe your story, he's upstairs hibernating with World of Warcraft."

"Mikey!"

I felt like an idiot for not thinking of Ian's little brother Mikey sooner. He was an incoming freshman at Cherry Creek High, fourteen years old, already over six feet in height, and obsessed with all things fantasy and science fiction. He'd probably shit a brick once he saw Percy and listened to his story.

"Who is Mikey?" Percy asked. "And what is a World of Warcraft?"

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Just get ready to tell your life story."

Ian stayed behind as Percy made his way up the drive towards the front door, tugging me back a step. I could tell by his tight grip on my arm that he was not happy. "What the hell are you thinking, Callie? You know this is a load of bullshit, right?"

"Probably," I agreed. I was never going to rid myself of that particular thought, but I was going to do my best to shut it up. "But it's the Christian thing to do, helping someone in need."

"I'm Jewish."

"Dude. C'mon. Let's just at least hear him out, alright?"

"Yeah, whatever. But if he turns out to be some kind of psycho axe murderer, I'm holding you personally responsible."

"Deal."