I fear I may not be the only person to write of the woman folks call Jenny Everywhere, a most fascinating yet terrifying specimen of a woman. Most would call me mad to be unnerved by a young woman with aviator goggles but people have not experienced the fullness of her, they’ve merely glimpsed at her pleasant facade.
I have recently turned forty years of age, a moment of reflection and uncertainty in any man’s life so to meet someone like her at this tumultuous moment was a strike against my vulnerable mind.
It was in London, in the year 1912, that I first encountered her. I was a guest at the Empire Theatre to attend a screening of the moving picture adaptation of Oliver Twist that Hepworth Pictures had produced some years prior. I had known Cecil Hepworth the owner of the film company as I had met him at numerous charitable functions. He had offered me a ticket to a private screening, believing I might find it amusing. He often gave his more intimate circle of acquaintances and friends tickets such as this. I held little affection for moving pictures, I found it to be a fad had the unfortunate effect of replacing the classic pastime of reading.
Nevertheless, he seemed excited, and I did not wish to offend him, so I asked my chauffeur, Henry, to drive me there that evening to attend the special screening. Whilst I was not one for moving pictures, I found the comfort of an automobile unquestionable. It certainly was superior to the roughness of the horse-drawn carriages.
As we made our way to the theatre, the motor-car came to an abrupt and jarring halt as Henry pushed on the brakes with force. I inquired as to the reason for this sudden stop but for a small moment he did not speak and simply gazed into the darkness. He pointed at a solitary figure who had appeared in front of us.
It was the most peculiar looking woman. Her complexion was light brown, her hair cropped unusually short for a woman a tan waistcoat, a strange satchel and aviator goggles on top of her head. She looked to be bewildered and have no notion of where she was. Henry and I stepped out of the motor-car to see if she had sustained any injuries.
“Are you all right madam?“ I asked in a composed manner.
”Yeah, ehm. What eh, what year is it?“ she stammered.
Henry and I exchanged glances, both of us seeming to suspect that she was delirious.
“Pardon me, but did we strike a blow to your head?” I asked, in a tone of genuine concern rather than jest. “The year is 1912”
“Hmm, I’m not used to this,” she murmured, her gaze wandering about before looking at a curious trinket fastened on her wrist.
“Do you need help reaching somewhere? Are you injured?” I asked once more, my patience waning as her responses remained little more than vacant expressions and incoherent murmurs.
“Yeah, I do in fact need to get somewhere and maybe you can help. Do you know the Empire theatre?” she asked.
“Yes, in fact I’m on my way to a screening there.”
“Don’t mind if I tag along then, that’s where I’m headed.”
“Certainly,” I replied, going back in the motor-car. Henry resumed his place at the wheel and the mysterious woman sat in the passenger seat beside me.
“So tell, who might you be madam and what brought you to be standing in the middle of the road?” I inquired with genuine curiosity, as Henry set the motor-car in motion.
“My name is Jenny, that’s what people call me at least. As for what I was doing in the street, that’s a difficult one to answer. See, I’m not from here, not from this time. I was messing with my new timewatch and I seem to have been brought here,” She then revealed the piece of jewellery, a silver band with some numbers on it that had no meaning to me
“Timewatch?” I thought wanting to dismiss it as mere jest however she appeared serious and sincere and her outfit, demeanor and speech didn’t really seem to fit with present day. She had appeared out of thin air like an apparition. I decided to humour this woman for a time. Thought my literary critique and editorials had often aroused controversy, I was not a man who took pleasure in being impolite to someone face to face.
“You are from the future, then?” I asked trying to withhold judgement.
“Sort of, yes.”
“What year are you from?”
“2025,” she answered.
I had read tales of temporal displacement only within the realm of literature which I enjoyed reading in my study. The Time Machine by H.G Wells sprang immediatly to my mind. His idea of a great mechanical contraption, if this woman were telling the truth, then at some point in history that machine would be refined to an ornament able to be worn upon the wrist. The thought bewildered me, perhaps more so than the notion of time travel itself.
“Remarkable” I murmured. “What, may I ask, is the year 2025 like?”
“Oh, well. That’s a doozy to even explain to you without going into almost a century of history. What I can say it’s certainly different, people mostly…” she said, glancing off to the side for a moment “How about I show you?”
Jenny turned to me and reached forward, the piece of jewelry brushed against my forehead and instantly a big flash of light came before me. I could no longer feel the seat of my motor-car, I could no longer hear its engine and no longer see either her or Henry. It was as if I was suspended in a void. How long I was in this state I could not tell as any sense of both space and time had been stripped away.
When the sensation began to subside, shapes slowly emerged. It was like stepping outdoors after a long confinement in darkness wherein the sunlight strikes too suddenly and one is briefly blinded before the eyes adjust.
Yet I was no longer in my motor-car, I was on a road with nobody around me. The buildings were radically different than the ones I was accustomed to seeing in London. The buildings were steel towers in impossible forms and sizes contouring into the air in a way that seemed architecturally impossible. The sky too was different, no longer the familiar pale blue but an eerie green hue. The most striking difference was the motor-car if they could even still be called that.
I recoiled at the sight as I looked toward the street. Where once there had been motor-cars, refined creations that embodied the triumph of modern industry, there now loomed grotesque chitin-covered towering beasts.
These creatures appeared to mimic the motor-car, taking on its intricate design.. Where headlights might once have been there now glowed a pair of bright compound lenses, resembling those of a fly which cast eerie beams of light into the darkness.
The wheels which had vanished entirely had been supplemented by long limbs that arched high above the creatures’ already towering forms before bending sharply downward like a crouching frog.
The elegant form of a Rolls Royce had been perverted into a grotequest and nigtmarish sight, servings as outer shell of these insectile beasts. I felt a revulsion unlike any I had known in my forty years of life. This was no craftsmanship, no feat of engineering, but something wholly biological, bearing only the mimicry of human design. This was a mockery of man’s triumphs. These Brobdingnagian horrors, masquerading as motor-cars crawled forward with their long legs yet no sign of any passengers.
The nearby streetlamps also bore an uncanny resemblence to living things. They were tall, thick stalks capped with bulbous buds. They seemed to draw in the surrounding air with a slow deliberate motion. The rhythmic nature of it made it appear to be breathing. The bulb was luminous and lit up a nearby area with a soft shimmering light.
The air smelled of a foul concoction of rust, perfume and excrement. The scent was so overpowering that I was forced to cover my nose against the offensive assault on my senses.
The people which I now observed moved with a casual indifference. They had attire that much like Jenny’s would’ve been conspicuous and out of place back in 1912. There was a prevalence of zippers, unfamiliar fabric and a noticeable absence of hats all of which caught my attention. Some of them walked with creatures on leashes, resembling diminutive iguanadons rather than dogs.
However these iguanadons were cloaked in feathers and posessed physique far more slender than the bulky reconstructions I had seen in Crystal Palace as a child. Most unsettling were their eyes which were unnatural orbs that appeared like shards of quartz embedded within their sockets.
I wandered, attempting to make sense of the events that had just transpired but the sole conclusion I could ascertain that this woman named Jenny had, against my will, transported me to the future and revealed to me a vision of what her year of 2025 would look like. The experience was terrifying, had I not had a certain fortitude of mind, I might have well broken down in tears, like an infant seeking their mother. Nevertheless I remained composed, if only to avoid arousing the suspicions of the locals, who I could not be certain the temperament of.
Seeking Jenny’s whereabouts, I searched for her throughout the streets trying to avoid the beasts and strange creatures.
Try as I might, I was unable to locate Jenny, all I found was only deeper confusion assailed my already frayed mind. Jesters with yellow eyes that held a hypnotic bulging gaze, creeping vine that grew on most of the buildings and slithered and pulsated as if it were some sort of snake.
I swear in some of the windows instead of lights or people i saw giant eyeballs just for a fleeting moment before it seemed to return to its prior state. I felt as if my grip on reality was fleeting, were some of these visions genuine or simply phantoms of my mind?
In an attempt to compose myself i felt like perhaps being still and closing my eyes was the best solution just for a moment. I had only closed my eyelids for a moment when i felt a cold breeze on my face.
I opened my eyes only to find myself in the whiteness that I was in before. Jenny was standing in front of me this time.
“So, I’m sure you have questions!” Jenny said.
I wanted to scream at her, i wanted to run. I regard her as inhuman to subject me to these horrific visions. What was even her goal, what were the intentions that lay behind those fairly unassuming eyes.
I didn’t respond to her, how could I? I was in no state to even speak, the shock was overwhelming me.
”Alright, so” Jenny began “What you saw was one possible future, rather than the definitive one. This timeline is one that won’t survive past 2025, doomed to wither and fade away.”
She looked me in the eyes and continued. ”I didn’t do this to torment you. I wanted to preserve this timeline within your memories for possible retrieval later on. That timeline, while weird, is … quite dear to me. If I, or someone else, can ever find a way to unprune it then your recollection of it could serve as a reference point”
“As for why I chose you, that was just happenstance of appearing in front of your car. Your absence from history books makes it not as likely that temporal authorities would catch onto what I did. I’m not meant to be doing this but I feel it to be the right thing.”
I continued to stare at her, my mind was in disorder at what she was even talking about. I felt like I was living in a scientific romance where I was thrust into situations beyond my understanding.
She then pressed her jewelry on my forhead like before and in a flash I was back where this started, in my motor-car with Henry at the wheel, Jenny was nowhere to be seen. I asked Henry, my chaffeur to tell me where she went but he seemed to not know what I was talking about.
Did I fall asleep and dream this whole thing? I found it to be not likely as my memories of this were so vivid. I was close to losing my composure but continue with the evening’s plans and went to the special showing.
Hepsworth greeted me and seemed happy that I made it. I was in the lobby partaking of a drink with him and some others in his circle when a man approached me.
“Excuse me sir but a woman asked me to deliver this letter to you” he said and handed me the letter.
I excused myself to retire to a private corner and then opened it and read the note.
”Dearest Edward Maycraft, I am sorry for vanishing, I have other places to be, things to attend to and a whole universe to explore. I hope you can forgive me, inside the envelope I have a little gift for you for helping me preserve the timeline.
Sincerely,
Jenny Everywhere”
Within the envelope was a pocket watch. When opening it on the inner cover was an engraving. “From Jenny Everywhere” My own name was engraved on the back of it. It was a remarkable piece of craftsmanship and God only knows how she procured it so fast.
Jenny Everywhere is the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever encountered. She appeared only to disturb my peaceful mind, yet chose to leave me with a parting gift. The evening shall remain fixed in my memory, not least due to the strangeness of it all and in that regard, I suppose she accomplished whatever purpose she had in mind. I however remain in the dark as to what the larger picture of that plan could be. Perhaps our paths shall cross again and I’ll learn more of this enigmatic Jenny Everywhere