Three

At first, it was as if Shawn had stepped into a cloud that had just exploded all around him. He was shrouded in white and couldn't see anything around him. He was terrified, to say the least. He remembered opening a hotel room door and now… this. He didn't even know where "this" was. What the hell had happened?

"Hello?" Shawn yelled. "Hello? Can anyone hear me? Where am I? Hello?"

He turned around to go back through the door he came in but after walking around several times, he realized that that door had vanished. "Holy shit," Shawn muttered. "What the hell's going on?"

Had he accidentally consumed some LSD he was supposed to sell and is that what was happening right now? Weren't hallucinations part of the side effects of LSD? Shawn began to laugh, realizing that that must be it. He had taken the drugs but he just couldn't remember when. Of course he wouldn't be able to remember right now.

"Oh, thank God, I'm not insane. Ok, calm down, Shawn. Just cool it." Shawn repeated this mantra a few times. Shawn looked around his legs, only to still see a fog settling around him. He sat down, wanting to wait out the drugs. I'm probably sitting on like the bathroom floor in the hotel room, Shawn thought. He wished he were sitting on the hotel bed though because that would mean he could be sitting somewhere more comfortable in his hallucinations. Shawn hugged his legs and put his head on his knees, wondering where his hallucinations would take him when suddenly—

Phone! He had his cell phone on him! For someone who's drugged, I still have coherent thoughts, Shawn thought proudly and whipped out his smartphone. The first call he wanted to make was to his best friend at NYU, Josh Mitchell, who was probably getting a head start on Shawn's PlayStation, while waiting for him to finish his shift here at the Marriott.

But when he dialed Josh's number, he got the beeping sound that informs callers the person they're trying to call is overseas and that their call cannot get through.

"Wait, what! Josh isn't overseas. He should be here!" Shawn exclaimed and tried Josh's cell a few more times but got the same beeping sound each time. Feeling frustrated, he tried his other friends at NYU and still got the same sound for each of them.

What the hell is happening? Shawn wondered.

He had no choice. He knew he would get into a lot of crap for doing this but his situation was too weird and he just wanted it to end and so, he looked up the number of the Marriott Marquis from his contact list and hesitated a little before he swiped his screen to dial. I'm gonna be in so much shit after this call, he thought. But he need not have worried because Shawn couldn't even get through to his very own hotel's number. Thinking that the Marriott Marquis could not have up and relocated just like that, Shawn felt a strange sensation creeping over him and it wasn't the usual feeling of being drugged.

He felt that there was something else at play here. He didn't know what but when he strained his brain and thought back to his actions this afternoon, he knew that he had not touched any LSD. In fact, the LSD that he usually kept in a tiny plastic Ziploc bag in his wallet just in case he could make a quick buck, was sitting deep within the trenches of his backpack which he had jammed into his locker at the start of the shift and had not seen since then.

This revelation made Shawn leap up from his sitting position which gave him a head rush. He closed his eyes and started walking in no particular direction, his hands stretched out to keep from hitting anything. As his head rush abated, he opened his eyes and saw that the fog that surrounded him was clearing.

Sunlight streamed through the dissipating mist and Shawn had to squint to see the scene before him.

The fog had given way to a street that stretched on and it was flanked by tall buildings. Shawn stared, his mouth agape at his location, which was no longer in the hotel room.

His first thought was that he had died and gone to Heaven.

Isn't that what happens when you die? Shawn thought. You see white all around you and then you see "the light". At least that's what happens in all five seasons of Ghost Whisperer. While Shawn was not particularly religious, he still liked the idea of Heaven. But he didn't think he would be allowed into Heaven until he stopped selling drugs. But where he was standing at didn't seem like Hell either.

In fact, if he was not mistaken, he was back on the streets of Manhattan. He stared all around him and saw more straight and narrow streets, more buildings and dozens of people either rushing to go somewhere or strolling around with no purpose in mind.

Shawn couldn't understand what had happened. He knew he wasn't on drugs, this was not a hallucination and he wasn't in his hotel room. Ok, he knew that much. But that wasn't a lot in the grand scheme of "what-the-hell's-happening" things. He felt dazed and looked around for a place he could sit at and take it all in.

As he walked towards several outdoor benches, he realized that people on the streets were dressed really weirdly. And their cars were not the normal kind either. What happened to all the sleek-looking, luxurious cars that New Yorkers from this side of Manhattan loved to drive? The cars on the streets and those parked on the side of roads looked really old and like those classic cars of the 1940s. The short body of the cars with their curved roofs and the raised hoods of the engines were a dead giveaway. Shawn saw that even the NYC yellow cabs were of this make.

Shawn shook his head slowly and then stopped abruptly to look at the people. Women and teenage girls were dressed in loose, knee-length skirts and dresses with ribbons in their wavy curls and sporting bright, red lipstick while men were still donning the normal suits. But on closer inspection, he saw that most of the men wore fedoras and for those who didn't, had slick-back hair which gave them a past-era type of look.

Was there a massive costume party on Times Square that I didn't know about? Shawn wondered. He couldn't see Times Square from here, nor could he see the Marriott Marquis hotel from this spot. He thought he couldn't be far from it though. He looked around and saw the street signs. One said "46th" and the other read "Upper East Side". "So, I'm on 46th and 5th," Shawn murmured, glad to have gotten some form of direction. "Great."

He looked around for landmarks that he was familiar with, maybe some cafes or stores he had spent his time in before but he couldn't recognize any stores. And the buildings Shawn realized, looked run-down and old. While they were still made of those dirty, brown bricks, they did not look like they were being maintained properly, giving it a very time-worn feel to it. And they seemed to be sparsely decorated. They were not the type of shop houses he had walked by in the afternoon on his way to work. They seemed different but Shawn couldn't understand why they would suddenly appear so.

Instead of sitting at those benches, Shawn continued to walk down 46th. But as much as he walked, people still continued to dress really old-fashioned and drove old-looking cars. Shawn felt really out of place in his modern, Marriott bellboy uniform and lack of a Fedora. Granted, there was the occasional luxury car in the form of a Chrysler and Shawn thought he recognized several Fords but after a while, he felt really overwhelmed. Deciding that he would just stay put in a café and figure this out, he looked around for the nearest Starbucks outlet (because there's usually one on every corner) but couldn't find any after the few miles he had walked. Not a single outlet.

Shawn ran his hand through his hair feeling helpless. He spotted what looked like a diner from one of Hitchcock's movies, though he didn't know from which movie particularly because truth be told, he found Hitchcock's films dull. The name of the diner was "Shake It Up" and it was boldly displayed in cursive font with light blue neon lights but the lighting for the letter "U" in the word "Up" was faulty so it read "Shake It p". Shawn sighed. This will have to do, he thought and pushed the diner door open.

***

There was a buzzing sound as Shawn stepped into the diner and the door clipped shut behind him. While he was more comfortable with the modern-day design of Starbucks, he had to admit, the diner did look cozy. He slid into a booth seat by the window and glanced around him. It looked like a typical American diner but way back in the 1900s, not like the ones they had now. There were the round, swivel seats at the long bar table that Shawn could see were very popular with the men because of the attractive barista behind the bar who would wink at the men and rest her elbow on the counter top, revealing a very nice set of—

"Hey there, sir! Isn't it a fine afternoon? My name is Ralph and I'll be your server for your stay here. What can I get you?" a tall, slim-looking male server whose name was apparently Ralph though he didn't wear a name tag asked Shawn, his smile so wide that Shawn could see every pearly-white tooth of his.

Shawn's first instinct was to say, "Some shades would be good," because Shawn thought that Ralph's teeth were even whiter than the fog he was in a while back. Shawn's second instinct was to tell Ralph, "Never mind your name, what's that chick's name behind the counter? Damn, she's hot!"

But he did neither, although it took a lot to suppress those urges, and instead, said, "Um, Ralph, I'll have an ice-blended, double chocolate chip Frappé but hold the whip cream and I think I'll have it at the bar if you don't mind."

Ralph stared at Shawn blankly, his pen not having written a single word on his writing pad. "You want a what? Listen buddy, we got milkshakes. They're really good. Chocolate, you said?"

Shawn didn't feel like having a milkshake but he didn't think that "Shake it p" had what he wanted so he nodded at Ralph and went to join the ogling session at the bar but not before he heard Ralph mutter "weirdo".

Once he had settled himself on the swiveling seat, he tried to get the barista's attention by smiling and telling her the drink she had made him was "really great". She smiled and continued talking to all her other male customers. Shawn studied her and saw that she was dressed in the same way as the other ladies out on the streets. And the men had the same styles too. It was ok for the servers in this diner to dress according to a 1900s theme but why were the customers playing along? Shawn wondered.

Realizing he was fighting a losing battle with the other guys sitting at the bar, Shawn gave up and was contented with enjoying his chocolate milkshake and looking around the diner. He didn't think he had ever been to a diner with such an authentic feel to it. Guitars hung on the walls, striped black and white wallpaper and tiled floor and to top it off, a juke-box at the back of the diner. Shawn thought that the designer of the diner was some old guy, still living in the 1900s in his mind but it was still impressive.

He saw The New York Times beside him on the counter-top and looked up to see one of the men at the bar kissing the hot barista's hand who was blushing and pulled away, looking flattered and embarrassed at the same time and still hot. He sighed, took the newspapers back to the same booth he was originally seated in and glanced at it.

Immediately, something struck him as odd. Why were all the photos in black and white? Shawn flipped through the newspaper, cover to cover and all of them were not colored. There was no way The New York Times would compromise its reputation by not printing its photos in color, Shawn thought.

The headlines for the top story caught his attention. "Situation in Pacific worsens, Hitler gains more support." Shawn continued to read the lead paragraph.

"Asia and Europe continue to prepare itself for a war that seems imminent

by both Japan and Germany.

Countries in Asia that are feeling the brunt of this battle are Malaya and Burma as Japan has been gaining territory by using force and extreme methods of torture to wield power over these citizens.

Meanwhile, troops in Germany have expanded and taken over many countries where millions of Jews have been made to suffer enormously and…"

Shawn flipped the newspaper to the next page and read the headlines again on the top of the page. "Thousands of Jews in crisis flee Europe." On the second half of the page, the headlines read, "Roosevelt and United Nations in discussions to help Asia."

Shawn looked up from the article. Roosevelt? But wasn't he President back in—

He surveyed the diner he was in, the people around him and thought back to what he had seen on the streets outside. Slowly, his hand shaking, he flipped the newspaper again to the front page and looked for the date.

20th June 1942.

"What the—" Shawn exclaimed slowly, flashes of what he had seen outside the diner went through his head. People dressed like they were going for a costume party in the 1900s, cars from the 1900s, building architecture that just didn't look modern, no Starbucks anywhere, this diner and then this newspaper! "No freaking way. Just—no way!" Shawn muttered, breathing heavily.

Was he really back in the 1940s?

Shawn saw Ralph walking past his table carrying a tray full of glasses and called out to him. Ralph eyed him wearily, placed his tray on the bar top and said, "Hey there. You'd be wanting your bill I suppose?"

"Ralph," Shawn said slowly. "What year is this?" He pointed to the newspaper and continued, "This is not the news now, right? Who's President now?"

Ralph's suspicions of Shawn being a weirdo were only heightened as he absorbed Shawn's questions.

"Uh buddy, that's the only newspaper we got here. If you haven't heard what's been happening in Europe or Asia or even know who Roosevelt is then—wow, I don't know what to say. Where've you been?"

I've been through both wars (well, technically), through the Vietnam War (again, technically), the Cold War (does anybody really know when that ended?), right through to the advent of the Internet and an African-American Democrat leading my country which happens to be 70 years into the future, if what's really happening is real, Shawn thought.

"Ralph, lemme show ya something," Shawn said and dug out his cellphone from his pocket. "You ever seen anything like this?" Ralph looked utterly terrified at the weird contraption in Shawn's hand and started to back away, as if Shawn was holding on to a detonator of sorts.

It dawned on Shawn that Ralph really had never seen such a phone before, which of course, was not invented back in the early 1900s.

"Oh my God! Am I really back in 1942? How the hell is this even possible? What the hell am I gonna do?" Shawn said out loud, not so much for Ralph to hear who all the same, heard it and told him that his milkshake was on the house and that he was free to leave anytime he wanted and then excused himself from what he saw to be a potentially dangerous situation because of this demented customer.

Shawn on the other hand, had no idea that he had freaked Ralph out. He thanked him for the free milkshake and gave him some dreadful news on his way out that he would swing by this diner again sooner or later in the day. "Gotta try my luck with that 1940s babe!" Shawn called to Ralph and pointed to the hot barista as the diner door buzzed again and closed behind him.

Ralph made a mental note to turn the "open" sign to "closed" on the diner doors sooner rather than later.