That means putting off my residency. She had been looking forward to it, especially since they had promised her a rotation in trauma. I’m probably in the trauma department now—as a patient.
She opened her eyes again. Why is there a dusty pink rag hanging over my head? And who is the lady with no teeth who keeps bending down over me? Is she asking me something?
“Has My Lady come around?”
The woman’s breath was so vile that Aliya groaned and lost consciousness again.
***
She felt a little better the second time she opened her eyes. She still hurt all over, but the pain was less. Aliya couldn’t understand why her pelvis ached so badly after the car accident. She remembered hitting her head but nothing that would have caused injury to her lower half. But who knows? Maybe I have a fractured pelvis. It hurts, for sure.
***
The dirty pink rag was back above her head. The room stank of smoke and feces, but she didn’t feel like fainting again…yet.
Aliya looked around the room, and what she saw made her doubt she was in her right mind. She must have hit her head so hard that she was hallucinating.
She lay on an enormous bed in the center of a large room that had to be at least as big as her parent’s entire apartment. On one side of the room, a window showed her the forest beyond. On the other side, stood a massive set of wooden wardrobes, and in front of her bed, she saw a magnificent gilded door. Everything was pink. The walls were covered with fabric in a sickly pink color with huge gold flowers the size of cabbages. The curtains were a happy shade of pink. The wardrobes had been clumsily painted the same shade of pink with gold accents. The room was furnished with a writing table the color of a robin’s breast with roses painted up the legs, as well as several armchairs, upholstered in the same fabric that was on the walls, and a couple of large vases full of live roses. Topping it all off—literally—was a dusty pink canopy, complete with gold bows hanging over the bed.
It’s the perfect room for an unhinged Barbie doll. Aliya saw pink circles swimming in front of her eyes, but fainting wouldn’t be so easy this time.
“My Lady!” The same face appeared again.
Aliya pulled together what strength she had left and breathed out a question. “Where am I?”
The words came out like “E… a… I?” It was a terrible attempt, but it was all she could manage.
Apparently, the nurse’s aide (Who else could she be?) took that as permission to speak, and burst out, “My Lady, how glad I am that you’ve come around! You’ve been lying here three days. The healer came and said not to touch you. She said that your body would fight off death if it could. Otherwise, it would be your fate to follow your little one. Childbed fever has taken many women. We were afraid that the malady would get you, but we prayed hourly. With the Lord’s help, you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Would you like a sip of water?”
A giant cup made of a yellowish metal appeared under her nose. Could it be gold? Red stones glittered around the edge of the cup.
Aliya felt like a malfunctioning computer. Without thinking, she put her lips to the cold metal and took a sip. The water was delicious, and it was cold. Tasty, clean water without a hint of chlorine. It seemed to have been mixed with something like a cheap, boxed wine.
What is happening to me? Aliya was afraid to ask questions. As a doctor in training, she knew there were times that demanded action and times that required silence. Holding your tongue was always a good idea; she knew that for a fact. You’re never sorry for the things you don’t say.
Instead, she closed her eyes and frantically tried to think. Whatever else they have done to me, the gods have not deprived me of my ability to think.
She pushed to remember more of the accident. The truck was the last thing she saw. Her father yelled, then something hit her head, and her neck snapped. Then everything went black.
There was something in the darkness with me, but what was it? She didn’t know. So, she began analyzing what she had learned from the nurse’s assistant.
MY Lady. She was obviously talking to Aliya, but ladies were all done away with in 1917, which was a mistake in Aliya’s opinion. She would have to think about that later. For now, she was a Lady. Where in the world do people still talk like that? She had no idea.
She refocused. You’ve been lying here three days. After an accident like that, Aliya wouldn’t be surprised if she’d been lying on her back in a coma for twenty years.
The healer had been there. What the hell kind of facility has healers instead of doctors and nurses? Even if I were in Africa, there would be Red Cross doctors, and this doesn’t look like Africa. It’s too cold, and the sky outside is gray. Healers aside, why did they wait for me to fight off my “malady” in the age of antibiotics? You just give your patient a mega-dose and watch the bacteria die off.
And what did the woman say about a little one? Did she mean a baby? Aliya had only slept with Alex a few times over the holidays, and they had been extremely careful. She wanted to finish medical school, and he was expecting to be promoted to major, so they wouldn’t get married until they reached those targets. Plus, she had had her period several times since then, right on schedule. I would know if I were pregnant. So what “little one” is the woman talking about?
However, if she’d given birth that would explain the severe pain around her pelvis. But how is that possible?
Aliya had two imaginable explanations for everything. The first was simple. She walked away from the accident, got married, got pregnant and gave birth, and now, because of the stress of postpartum fever and clinical death, she had forgotten everything since the accident and would have to start all over again.
There was a second explanation, but it seemed beyond belief… Her roommate at medical school was a Tolkien freak. She was into role-playing games and believed in parallel worlds, and her half of their room was littered with fantasy books and posters. Aliya knew how Ella would have explained these strange circumstances.
She would say I’m in a parallel world and have to find my way back. Aliyah shuddered at the thought. It defied all the logic instilled within her. And besides, if I am, indeed, in another world, I’ll probably never find my way back! I’m much more likely to die a rapid death without antibiotics. Everything in this room is a potential germ factory—by the looks of it, the fancy cup I just drank out of has never been washed, and the old woman hasn’t seen a bath in her lifetime.
In the end, Aliya decided not to say anything. That seemed the safest course of action. She remembered the Inquisition. Those priests would have known exactly what to do with visitors from other worlds. They’d test her to see if she was an associate of the devil, and that meant going for a swim with a heavy rock tied around her neck. If she managed not to drown, then she was guilty, and the devil had helped her. And if she did drown, they’d say, “Too bad, she must have been innocent. Let’s pray for her soul and thank God for knowing best.” Fun times all around.
What if this is all a bad dream? Aliya didn’t want to drown or be burned at the stake, even in a dream—even as an act of faith. She didn’t care what world she was in or what planet it was or what century. Judging by the fact that there are no mirrors, it has to be no later than the 15th century. She didn’t care about anything but her health. She needed to sleep and get her strength back.
Sleep. Aliya gave a deep sigh and started counting sheep. She was asleep by the time the sixteenth sheep jumped the fence.
***
Aliya got her second shock when she woke again. After she opened her eyes, she drank some water and realized she needed to pee. Her trusty nurse, who stank worse than ever, pulled back the blanket and stuck some kind of medieval pot under her patient.
Aliya was about to protest until she caught sight of her body. That. Is. Not. My. Body. Her whole life, Aliya had had dark hair, olive skin, and gray eyes, and she’d never been over a size 8. Which is a perfectly average size when you’re five and a half feet
tall. But instead, lying on the sheet, which should have been washed a month ago, was a doughy, fair-skinned body that looked like it took a size 16 or more. The body’s dirty nightgown had ridden up, and she saw that she was a natural blonde.
Aliya fainted dead away, but that didn’t keep her from peeing in the pot.
***
When she opened her eyes again, the sun was up. She still felt awful. Her mouth was dry, and her head ached. She felt nauseous. And she preferred not to think about her perineum. If she had, in fact, given birth recently, the baby must have been a giant porcupine.
Someone was holding her hand and talking. “…Visa Hadson’s ewe threw a two-headed lamb. The medicus, the same one who came to see you, went to look at it and said that he would stuff it and send it to the King’s Museum of Curiosities. By the way, he promised to check on you today. Oh, please don’t die, my girl! Just don’t leave me! I nursed you and carried you in my arms and raised you, and I raised your father, too! You’re all he has, his only flesh and blood. And you’re all I have. I know you want to go back to the earth as your mother did, but he won’t survive without you. Your husband may be an earl, but he’s a villain! Here his poor wife is on her deathbed after trying to give him a child, and he’s back in the capital carousing with whores. I steeped a piece of gold in holy water for you so that you’d be even more beautiful after giving birth. Please get better, my precious angel! I can’t stay here without you! Who would look out for me if you weren’t here?”
The woman’s words dissolved into unintelligible muttering.
Aliya didn’t know anything about a Visa Hadson, but she assumed it was a person. She (or he) has a sheep, which makes her (or him) a person, right? The medicus (Is that a colleague? Why “medicus” instead of “doctor”?) is planning to stuff it and send it to the King’s Museum of Curiosities, which makes no sense because if I’m still in Russia where I belong, there have always been tsars instead of kings.
“I raised you” (she must be a nanny or a wet nurse) “and I raised your father, too.” Aliya was sure that her father had never had a nanny. He had grown up in an orphanage. “You want to go back to the earth as your mother did.” But my mother is alive, and my father is just fine. At least, as far as she remembered after the accident.
In an instant, it all came together. She was in someone else’s body in a completely different world. Apparently, I have a husband who is an earl and a royal jerk. Just what I need. So, my job was to give birth, and he doesn’t care too much whether I live or not. He could find a new wife; earls are always in demand.
There wasn’t much more she could deduce from what she had heard. Aliya made a decision. She could stay in bed as long as she liked, but judging from the sound of crying, there was at least one person in this world who loved her. If she got up, she could make this woman happy and perhaps learn some more about where she was.
Strangely enough, with that decision, her head was completely clear. Aliya opened her eyes and whispered, “Nanny.”
That was enough. The old woman leaped from her stool like someone had poked her with a needle. She smiled with all eight of her teeth.
“Lily! My baby! How do you feel?”
Aliya dropped her eyelashes a bit. “It hurts. Talking hurts. Give me something to drink.”
“Of course, right away, my dear,” the woman began puttering around. “Right this minute, I’ll mix you some water and wine. Or would you rather have milk? We have fresh milk from this morning.”
“Just water,” Aliya said. She felt like she hadn’t eaten in a while, and milk might upset her empty stomach. Buttermilk would be just the thing, so she asked for some.
The woman smoothed the hair back from Aliya’s face. “I’ll start some buttermilk for you this very day! It will be ready tomorrow. For now, take a sip of this.”
Aliya saw the gold cup with rubies flash in front of her eyes. She obediently drank the water with wine. Just a little, to keep it from going to her head. She looked up at the woman who handed it to her.
“Nanny, what happened to me? I can’t remember. My mind is in a fog. Tell me what happened.”
The woman looked away. “You’re too weak still to hear the whole story.”
I don’t see how suspense will make me feel better, Aliya thought. Then she made a sad face. “Please tell me. Please.”
She couldn’t force a tear, but the woman was touched anyway. She looked down and said quietly, “You lost the baby. It was a boy.”
It wasn’t clear what kind of reaction she expected, but Aliya kept her eyes down and asked another question. “I see. What else?”
“You had childbed fever for three days. The medicus came and let your bad blood and gave you a cleansing remedy. Nothing helped.”
Aliya’s eyes flashed in anger. “Don’t let that fool in here to see me again. I’ll rip his legs off.”
The nanny almost choked when she heard that. “But child, how can you say that? Your husband sent him all the way from Lavery when he heard you were unwell.”
“Perhaps he hoped that idiot would do me in,” Aliya grumbled.
“Whatever do you mean?” the nanny burst out. “Medicus Craybey is one of the best physicians in Lavery. Even the king has deigned to use his services.”
“That’s the king’s problem. Why did I lose the baby?”
The nanny shrugged. “Medicus Craybey said that you fell on the stairs.”
“Is that so?”
“We found you at the bottom of the stairs. There was a lot of blood. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.” The nanny sniffled and hid her face in her apron.
“Not a chance of that,” Aliya whispered to herself. The woman didn’t hear her and continued to sniffle.
Aliya studied the woman. She was short and looked to be about sixty years old, with a tired but pleasant face. She had something like a little cap pinned to her hair. Aliya had only seen things like that in movies, but she was pretty sure that the sleazy fabric covering half the woman’s hair was intended to be a cap.
Her dress was made of what looked like homespun fabric in a grayish-brown color. It was plain, without bows or ruffles. The apron was as dirty as the dress. She couldn’t see what the woman had on her feet because the dress went all the way to the floor. It must function like a prehistoric vacuum cleaner when she walks.
Aliya sighed and spoke again, making her voice as sweet as possible, “Nanny, I need your help. I’m alive, and I want to get my health back. It’s going to take a lot of effort.”
The old woman dropped the apron from her face. Her gray eyes shone with fire, and Aliya realized that the woman loved her just as fiercely as her parents did back in her own world. This was a person who would do anything for her.
Anything at all. Whatever I ask for. A person like that is valuable. She could be useful.
Aliya kept her face neutral. She put on a small smile and said, “I want to try to stand up. I need to wash.”
“How can you stand up, child? The medicus said that you should stay in bed another tennight![1]
“It’s all right,” Aliya gasped as she struggled to sit, ignoring the pain in her lower abdomen. “I can do it. And I really need to take a bath!”
“But washing is so unhealthy! That is what Father Vopler says.”
“He’s welcome to have all the lice he can handle,” Aliya said, her patience wearing thin. When she saw the disappointment on the woman’s face, she changed her tone to something between whining and begging. “Nanny, please help me.”
The nanny (it would be nice to know her name) sighed and shook her head. “But Lily dear, it’s so bad for you.”
“Please!”
“Oh, all right. You lie here while I order some hot water. When I come back, I’ll help you stand up.”
Aliya nodded in agreement.
Thoughtfully, Aliya watched her leave. Then she began studying the room again. Unfortunately, all of the pink décor was still there. Looking closer this time, she began to suspec
t that the fabric on the walls was pretty expensive. Aliya was sure that the curtains would cost a fortune in her world. She had a friend who moonlighted as a seamstress and was always trying to teach Aliya about armsyces, darts, gussets, inserts, cross-stitch, machine embroidery and all the different kinds of seams. There was too much to remember, but Aliya could tell hand stitching from machine stitching, even at a distance.
She turned to study the furniture. The wardrobes were huge, pink monstrosities. And who thought it was a good idea to make a table out of heavy marble? It was impossible to move, and if it fell over it would put a hole in the floor. The chairs looked like they had been carved from whole pieces of pine.
One of the chairs looked more like a wooden chest that someone had nailed an uncomfortable back to before covering the whole thing in fabric—pink fabric, covered with ugly gold roses.
She hated this kind of stuff.
The pink canopy over her head needed to be shaken out before the dust completely obscured its gold roses.
Aliya plucked up her courage and looked down at her bed. The bedspread was an expensive brocade, but it was filthy—and pink. It was obviously handmade. The sheets were pink silk. They were dirty and stank. Aliya gritted her teeth and pulled the sheets to the side. She had to have a look at herself. She was dirty; she smelled bad; and she was covered in fat like a big, pink whale. Offhand, she figured she weighed 260-270 pounds. She almost cried; it was the worst reincarnation imaginable. She took a deep breath. I can deal with this. I’ll just watch what I eat and start exercising.
The floorboards outside her door creaked. Aliya pulled the bedspread back over her body just as three men came in dragging a large metal washtub. When they let it down, it hit the floor with a boom that made Aliya jump. The men went out and returned ten minutes later with buckets of boiling water, which they poured into the washtub. After emptying three buckets of boiling water and three buckets of cold water, they put two more buckets of hot water on the floor by the tub. Aliya watched their preparations in surprise.
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