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smiles wanly and then continues. "So tell me more about how I may be of service. You’re a long way from home it seems."
    "Well, yes and no," I answer. "We all live in St. Pete, but we can't reall y go home . . . we’re about twenty-three years early, so some of us wouldn’t be here yet, and some of us are from here, but are already here I imagine, so are sort of in a weird situation."
    "We’re all in a weird situation," Francesca laughs nervously.
    "Do you mind if I ask how you all found yourself in this predicament?" Mr. Cameron asks. “Your explanation of your circumstances was a bit beyond me.”
    "We’re still trying to figure that out ourselves,” Robbie says.
    "There was a lightning storm and we got electrocuted,” Francesca says. "It burned a hole in my pants."
    "Oh dear!" Mr. Cameron replies. "Are you in need of medical attention?"
    "We’d thought of going to the hospital to get checked out but we hadn't made it that far yet. That was before we figured out where we were. The time travel thing sort of trumped all of our other problems,” Robbie says. "But I think we’re okay. I know we got burned a little here and there but I don't think we’re in real trouble. At least I'm not. I don't know about you guys."
    The rest of us express the same feelings, so Mr. Cameron continues. "So your main c oncern is that you find yourselves displaced, and are, I'm sure, looking for some kind of solution to the problem."
    I nod slowly .
    "While I’ve seen my fair share of Star Trek episodes, I’m afraid I’m not very knowled geable about time travel. I do know a thing or two about being in need of a place to stay however, and I feel I would be a poor excuse for a human being if I did not at least offer you my hospitality in that area. You can see that I have more house here than I really need, and with my wife gone, all the space in here is downright dreadful."
    "We’ d really appreciate that,” Francesca says.
    "It’s my pleasure," Mr. Cameron replies. "Besides, it appears I suddenly have an adult grandchild in my house, which is a rare and unexpected treat.” He looks at Robbie as he says this.
    They have the same eyes.
    “With all the people who have come knocking on my door of late to check up on me, I’ve been used to visitors, but you all are certainly the last thing I would have expected. I probably ought to have my head examined for even letting you in the door with a story like yours, but it’s pretty hard to argue with the truth staring you in the face.” He considers Robbie some more. “I remember your dad at your age. I don’t know if you’ve seen any photographs of your dad then Robbie, but he was quite athletic too. Middle age got the better of him around the time you were born, but that happens to the best of us I suppose. How is our lovely family doing in the future?"
    "Good,” Robbie replies slowly. "Really good. Everybody is pretty happy.” He suddenly looks uncomfortable talking about the subject with his grandfather.
    "You said when you came in that you ‘remembered me from when you were a child.’ I take it I’m not featuring in our family's doings much in 2009.”
    Robbie shifts in his seat and starts to speak, but stops himself.
    "That’s all right," Mr. Cameron continues, "Unless the police finally catch up to me for all those banks I robbed and put me away,”—He winks at Francesca as he says this—"I shall assume I’m simply among the departed in 2009. It's okay,” he continues, looking at Robbie now. "We old people don't mind talking about death as much as you young people think we do. It’s a rather unavoidable topic at our age."
    He doesn’t seem all that old to me. Mid-sixties maybe? I wonder what his wife died from?
    Robbie relaxes a little but still seems unsure of where to take the conversation next. Mr. Cameron diverts into another topic however and it turns out he doesn't have to worry about it further. "Why don't you all tell me a little about yourselves?