"What happened?" A unfamiliar voice said from behind him, sounding disoriented. "Where am I?" He turned, and saw a gorgeous red-haired woman.
"Where are you? Tell me first who are you? What are you doing here?" Jon asked.
"Rebecca Ford, who are you, kid?" She said. She had a very distinctive accent...New York maybe?
The name didn't ring a bell. He reached for the remote and pressed the Info button, to tell him the name of the current program playing. The television was tuned to the American Classics Network(ACN) and the program was "Stone, P.I." He knew this show....his mother had shown it to him, but he didn't know much about it except the main character was a detective and it was in black and white. She used to watch it with his grandfather. She must have been feeling nostalgic since he died. There was no description next to it.
"Jon," he said. "Something strange is going on here..."
"You don't have to tell me twice. Where's Mr. S?" She asked.
"Who?"
"The boss...Dan Stone..."
"You...umm...Rebecca..." he tried. "What year is it?"
"1958," she said, without hesitation.
Jon didn't know how to explain to a woman who had come out of the television that she had come from an old TV show into the 21st century. And where was his mother? "Umm....you see the television over there?" He said.
"That's like no television I've ever seen..." she said, staring at it.
"Umm...it's..." he tried to think of a convincing lie, but he wasn't a really good liar to begin with. "This is going to sound crazy, but it's the 21st century, my mom was watching an old show that was made in the 50s...and she got sucked into the TV...and now you're here..."
"Well, that's a dilly of a pickle," she said. "Usually, I have a pad or something, and take notes until Mr. S shows up...but..."
"So, you're..." he squinted. He hadn't recognized her without a fifties hairstyle... "You're the secretary, right?"
"Yes, but I don't just type things...Mr. S said he'd be lost without me."
He wasn't sure if her response was because she wasn't quite all there or because she was a two dimensional character somehow brought to life. "But, if you are here, where's my mom?"
"You said she went in, and I came out...so she's probably there," the woman said, shrugging. "It's all right. Mr. S will figure it out."
The commercial ended, and the show returned. His mother, in black and white, sat at a desk in some sort of office, with a 50s haircut, straight on the sides, and curled at the edges. She seemed to be typing up something on a typewriter. The phone rang. "Stone Detective Agency," she said.
"That's my line," his new companion exclaimed.
