"Huh. If this is all there is, it stopped some people."
  "You mean white people?" asked Tab. Barry looked around to make sure no one heard. A family stared into a Norman Rockwell and disappeared.
  "You're looking at one of the last."
  "Of course, I still play the field. And of course, my family had an extensive array of images I can put in this little guy," he jiggled the box. "But I like the atmosphere."
  Barry asked, "So these people are all bootleggers?"
  "Addicts really. Trouble is time travel is so regulated and monitored, it's hard to leave or get back in, so a couple of my friends and I do it--and these fine folks, even though they have to settle for what they can get, B timelines, anomolous flukes, nightmare scenarios."
  "Bull shit," chimed and old man.