The first thing Jellicoat Brown did after returning from 1944 Nazi Germany was consult the cellphone he’d left on his kitchen counter to confirm the current date: December 14, 1998.
The second thing he did was open up a can of Friskies Treats for his shorthair cat, PeeBee. “Dinnertime, little fella. Did you miss me?” Although he’d only been gone about thirty minutes, it felt as if he’d been gone for decades. Brown dumped the can into the cat’s dish and placed it on the floor. PeeBee meowed his way over to his food and started his meal.
The third thing Brown did was gobble a couple of Advil. His jaunt through time had taken a toll. Every muscle ached. His head pounded. Thrilled by his success, Brown tried to smile, but even that hurt. A relatively small price to pay for proving his time m
