Second Chances

There was a naked woman pounding on Brian Littrell’s back door.

He did a double take as he looked out his kitchen window and realized she was covered with dirt, as if she’d been crawling around in the mud. Dirt and….could that possibly be blood? It looked like blood on her shoulder and arm. She was wild-eyed, with dark red shaggy hair that exploded around her face, looking as if she’d just stepped out of a wind tunnel.

Yep, she was undeniably naked.

“Brian!” she shouted, hammering on the door. “Bri, let me in!”

It was locked of course, and protected by one of the best security systems around. Which is no less than one would expect for a house of a member of the Backstreet Boys. One of the most popular groups in the world.

“Brian! God, please be home!” There was such anguish in the woman’s voice. Brian wasn’t sure what was stopping him from picking up the phone and calling the police. She just seemed so fragile and scared. He opened the kitchen window.

The woman heard the noise, and she stopped banging on the door. She looked at him expectantly as he gazed at her.

“Brian.” There was such relief in the way she said his name. As if she had thought she would never see him again. But, he didn’t recognize her. The naked woman was a complete stranger.

Brian definitely would have remembered meeting a woman like this one before---even with her clothes on.

She was about 5’6” tall and built like a dream, all curves with not an ounce of fat on her anywhere. And in her current state of undress, he had an extremely accurate view of all of her anywheres. She had the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen and a sexy stomach leading down to a pair of long legs that he could easily imagine wrapped around his waist.

Brian hurriedly brought his gaze back up to her face. Her nose was gracefully shaped. Her cheekbones were prominent, too, as were the dimples by her mouth. But it was her eyes that held his attention. They were the most unbelievable shade of violet blue.

Without a doubt, she was the most gorgeous naked madwoman he’d ever come face-to-face with. Not that he’d come face-to-face with many madwomen, clothed or otherwise.

“It’s me,” she told him, holding out her arms as if that would make him recognize her. “Jenn.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But….I don’t know you.”

She stared at him in confusion. “You don’t?”

“Maybe you have the wrong house,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “No. Maybe I have the wrong…” She interrupted herself. “What’s the date?”

“Friday, August 24.”

“No, the year. What’s the year?”

He told her.

She swore sharply, clearly upset, and Brian reached behind him for the telephone, ready to dial 911 if necessary.

“The damned machine overshot my mark by 5 years,” she muttered, talking more to herself than to him as she paced back and forth. Her words didn’t make sense, but she was insane. Her words weren’t supposed to make sense. “OK. So here I am. Better early than late.”

As Brian watched she took a deep breath and seemed to pull herself together then looked at him again.

“I’m Jenn Townsend,” she introduced herself. “And you don’t know me, and….I’m naked.” There was a flash of chagrin in her eyes, as well as something that might have been amusement. “Talk about making a good first impression.”

“Is there someone I can call to come and get you?” Brian asked, trying to remember what he knew about insanity.

She shook her head, trying to tame her hair combing it back with her fingers. “No, I’m right where I want to be.” She snorted. “Give or take 5 years.” She took another deep breath. “I could sure use something to wear, though.” She seemed to notice the blood on her shoulder and arm for the first time, along with the dirt that covered her. “And maybe the use of your water hose over there to wash up?”

Brian hesitated.

“Please?” she added, gazing at him pleadingly.

What was it about her….?

“I know my pants won’t fit you,” he told her. “But I’ll look for something. Go ahead and use the hose.”

“Thanks.”

Why was he doing this? Brian asked himself on the way to his bedroom. He should just call the police and have her removed from his yard. He grabbed an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt for her to wear.

He carried the clothing back to the kitchen. Out in the yard, Jenn What’s-her-name had somehow hooked the hose to the clothesline. She’d also managed to make the water come out in a spray. She stood underneath it, as if it were a shower, water streaming onto her head and down her face. The water made her body glisten and shine.

Brian felt like some kind of a voyeur, watching her like that. He was grateful his yard was enclosed and none of the neighbors lived close by. No one could see the naked woman taking a shower in his backyard.

Except for him.

She opened her eyes and looked directly at him----catching him staring at her.

He quickly turned away, and went to get her a towel. He found one in the linen closet and tossed it, and the clothing, out the window.

“Thanks.” She said grabbing the towel as she shut off the water.

Brian tried not to watch as she dried herself, but it proved impossible. He had to move away from the window and gaze up at the ceiling to keep himself from staring.

“Hey, Brian?”

He peeked out the window, relieved to see that she was fully clothed.

“Will you come out here?” she asked. “I really need to talk to you about…”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He responded.

“I promise not to go anywhere near you. I’ll just sit in that lounge chair on the deck.”

Brian shook his head. “I’m sorry, I really can’t…”

“No tricks, I swear.”

“Why do you need to talk to me so badly? You act like I should know you.”

Jenn Townsend gazed at him silently for a moment. Then she dropped her bomb.

“I’m from the future,” she told him flatly, matter-of-factly. “And in the future, we’re friends. Bri, I need your help to save someone’s life.”

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