The store, like everything else on the street, had the sign on the front written in a strange, old-fashioned lettering style but even so, it looked fairly new. A young boy walked down the street yelling about newspapers. They didn't buy any, but Leo saw a headline--BROOKLYN BRIDGE TO BE OPENED IN AMERICA. What? It must really be the past then.
"This has to be it," said Michelle. Her voice seemed strange, though. It was as if she had been developing a British accent from just a few seconds of hearing the boy with the newspapers. "Brandon has to be here, if only he's okay. What can we do? Look for a woman?"
"I don't know," said Leo. But as he spoke those words his voice began to falter. "I... Michelle, do I sound strange?"
"I don't know," she replied. "Wait a minute... Your hair. It's all wrong. It's like a wig." She reached for his hair and gave a gentle tug. It looked a lot like her own, a bit curlier and longer. and seemed as real, since it didn't come off. It had even lightened to a sort of lighter brown color, also like her own.
"It's affecting us too!" exclaimed Leo. "I don't know, you sound different..."
"You do too! I can hear your accent... I can... what am I saying? I'm talking the same way." She pointed to Leo but when she raised her arm saw that her blouse had longer, puffier, sleeves that extended down to her hands.
They were greeted by a woman when they entered. Shop owner? They didn't know if women owned shops this far in the past. Regardless, she asked them, "What may we do for you today? A bit of alteration, perhaps? Those dresses you are wearing don't look like they fit at all."
"Dresses? Me?" said Leo. What was he wearing, after all? He knew by then that his clothes had transformed and his body felt strange. But even though he could tell he had breasts, and he was wearing something that flapped against his legs, it began to feel more natural.
By now, Brandon--now Brenda, was wearing a splendid dress that would have been old-fashioned except that for the times, it was just normal, at least for the rich. "Oh, there you are!" said Brenda in her new British accent. Her servant--the one calling her Lady Brenda--moved aside to let them pass. Brenda introduced them to the saleswoman: "These are my twin daughters, Cleo and Michelle."
"A pleasure," said the saleswoman.
"She offered to alter our dresses," said Michelle, now a 20-year-old who had only gotten a little younger, but was wearing a corset, chemise, and dress. "But they fit fine."
"Yes, mother," said Cleo, a double for her sister. "Don't you think so?" She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and that she had come here to find someone... No, there was nothing wrong. She was just there with her sister and mother, shopping.
"Why of course," said Brenda. "What made you think they need to be altered?"
The saleswoman scratched her head. "I don't remember. I thought they looked a bit dodgy. But anyway, I can show you our new lineup...."
Jon considered what to do now, The "show" was over, but he could wish something further. Unfortunately he had wished that anyone who used the machine would be stuck, so he couldn't send them back to the present. But maybe there was a loophole-and of course there's always the chance that someone else would find the machine.
