Caleb Weinhardt

Stranger

Val really, really didn’t want to go to the party.

“What are you going to do, stay home on New Year’s Eve?” Martha gawked at her like it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

That was exactly what Val was going to do. Welcome in the new millennium with a glass of wine and Clueless in the VCR from the comfort of her dorm room. Her friends wouldn’t let it happen.

“You can stay in next year, Val!” Brandy called from the front seat. She turned up the volume to pump Destiny’s Child through the stereo. “It’s 2000, baby!”

“Not for another two hours,” Val said. “Can we run the heat?”

The outfit Martha had picked out for her did not offer much protection against the cold. She tugged on the too-tight fabric.

When the threesome arrived, the party was well underway. It looked like they’d started at noon. Brandy made a break for the porch, throwing her arms around her new boyfriend Dan.

“Isn’t he hot?” Martha whispered on the way in.

“Gross, Martha. We’re going to find you a man who showers. I promise.”

They wove their way through the crowded house. The heat inside was a stifling contrast to the frigid December air, and the frat smelled like hops and BO. The floor was littered with beer cans and solo cups. The windows were draped with bedsheets, and empty liquor bottles lined every available surface like participation trophies. A plastic disco ball hung precariously from a cord in the living room, where a mass of bodies bounced to deafening music.

In the kitchen, Val was relieved to find a well-stocked liquor cabinet. She was going to need a couple of shots to get through the night. With two, then three shots of Tito’s, Val felt warmth wash over her.

She hated frat parties, yet here she was.

“Okay,” Val said. “What about him?” She had to shout to be heard. She pointed Martha to a surfer guy in an acid-wash t-shirt. The chains around his neck jumped and danced with his movement.

“Kyle? God, no. I heard he gave Stacey chlamydia.”

“I’m pretty sure she made that up. How about Mr. Glasses?”

“Who wears sunglasses inside?” Martha giggled.

“How about him?” Val picked out a short guy in a dull pullover sweatshirt. He stood on the periphery, bopping his head slightly but staying out of the fray.

“Who?”

“Over there,” Val pointed.

“Oh shit!” Martha said. “He’s looking right at us!”

“Oh god,” Val laughed, turning to hide.

“Don’t look up,” Martha peeked over her shoulder, “but he’s headed this way!”

“What?”

“Just be cool!” Martha hissed.

“Hey, you look thirsty.”

Val saw the beer bottle first, which he was holding in his hand. That was at the end of his arm, which led her to his face—round, with a thick beard, his hair buzzed short. Silver barbells hung from his ears and some kind of dark, scaly tattoo peeked out from under his collar. Martha took this as her cue to exit and slipped off to the dance floor.

“Thanks.” Val took the beer.

“I’m August,” he said. When he smiled, Val caught a flicker of familiarity about him. She must have seen him before somewhere, but couldn’t remember where.

“Val,” she said.

“Short for Valerie?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone or I’ll kill you.”

“Are you an undercover cop?” He sipped his beer and leaned on the counter.

“No, I’m a scientist,” she said. “I’m collecting data for a study on the behavior of college students at frat parties.”

“Any interesting findings yet?”

“Just that a surprising number of people apparently don’t mind grinding on strangers in a house that smells like burnt ass.”

He shrugged as if to say, what can you do?

“I’ve heard it’s not as bad upstairs,” he said.

Val became aware that her mouth was hanging open and promptly shut it. This was the first and only time she had been propositioned at a party, if that was what was happening. Though her friends had plenty of wild stories about one-night-stands, this was foreign territory to Val.

He smiled. Not expectantly, but sincerely. Val felt some strange spark of excitement.

This was never something she would have considered. It just wasn’t her style. But there was something about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on, that drew her to him. He was familiar, and she racked her brain for the person he reminded her of. More than anything, she was curious about him. She wanted to know this stranger.

She had waited too long.

“We don’t have to,” he said with a shrug. “I could really go for a smoke, though. Want to join me?”

“I don’t smoke,” Val said. She cursed the words as they came out of her mouth. Maybe you should pick up the habit, Val. He’s going to think you’re not interested.

“So humor me,” he said. “I could use the company, and I feel like you could too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tipped the neck of his beer bottle around the room. “Is this really your crowd? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a sorority type.”

“Sorry, have we met somewhere?” She asked.

His eyes darted away and then back to her. It was an expression she hadn’t seen on his face yet, one of unease or maybe even panic.

“We had intro stats together,” he said.

“With Lawrence?”

“He was quite the character,” August said.

“Dr. Lawrence was quite the character. She’s the only professor I’ve ever had who wore clogs to class.”

“Shit.” August let out a long breath. 

“So we’ve obviously never had a class together, and I’m starting to think you don’t even go to this school,” Val said. “Are you stalking me or something?”

“No!” His cheeks flushed. “To tell you the truth, we’ve never met before. I just saw you over there and knew I had to talk to you.”

“Fine,” Val said, after a pause. She clinked her drink against his. “I forgive you for being a liar. And I’ll take you up on that smoke.”

“I thought you didn’t smoke,” he said.

“If we’re telling the truth now, every time I have more than two drinks, I run down to the corner store and buy a pack of menthols. I always smoke one and then I feel like shit and toss the pack in the nearest garbage.” It was easy to let her inner thoughts slip off her tongue. Maybe it was the vodka, but maybe it was that inexplicable thing that had caused her to pick August out of the crowd.

“So you’re a cigarette-waster,” he said. “I can’t imagine the environmental impact you’ve had. Some would say that’s worse than being a liar.” A smile crept onto his face.

“Oh, shut up,” Val said. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Without thinking, she took his hand. It was smaller than she expected. It slipped perfectly into hers. His palm was sweaty, and she realized hers was too. She dropped it again.

“C’mon,” she said.

Val pushed through the crowded kitchen, the air thick with a strong boozy scent. August followed her through the screen door onto the deck.

The night air was refreshing. Val tipped her head back and filled her lungs. August watched her, then pulled the pack of Newports from his jacket.

“You’re kidding.”

“What?”

“That’s the kind I get,” Val said.

“Great minds,” August said.

He lit a cigarette and leaned on the deck railing. She joined him, and he lit hers too.

They stood in silence like that, looking into the darkness. The grass glimmered with dew in the light of a distant streetlamp.

“I have a confession,” August said.

“Okay.”

“I do know you,” August said. “But we’ve never met before.”

“Right, so you are stalking me,” Val said.

August groaned. He sounded genuinely irritated, which put Val off-balance. No more joking, apparently.

“I’m going to tell you something, but I need you to just suspend your disbelief for a minute. Seriously. Can you do that?”

“If you’re going to make this weird, I’ll find another secret smoking buddy.”

“Oh, it’s going to get weirder,” he said.

He took a breath.

“Val, from the moment I saw you in there, I knew I had to talk to you. I felt this connection to you. At first, I couldn’t figure it out. I think you felt it too.”

“Maybe.”

“I’ve been on a fucking trip these past few days,” he continued.

“Like on acid?”

“Something like that. I’m sure people on acid feel like they’re moving through spacetime.”

“So I’ve heard,” Val said.

“Anyway, here it goes.”

August seemed to be assembling his words carefully, gathering the courage to string them together. She waited, watching his wheels turn. The night was quiet. Even the crickets had paused their symphony.

“Val,” he said, “I’m you.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. It just slipped out, and then she couldn’t stop laughing.

“What?” She said, finally.

“I think you know—”

“No, like what the fuck are you talking about?” Val felt heat rise to her face. Who did he think he was, messing with her like this?

“When you were eleven,” August said, “you had a bad fall on your bike. Broke your wrist.”

The hairs pricked up on the back of Val’s neck.

August unbuttoned the sleeve of his shirt and rolled it up. In the dark, Val couldn’t tell what she was looking at.

“Took forever to heal. All the kids at school signed your cast with puffy paint.”

And then he turned his hand into the light, and there it was, unmistakably—a thin scar that ran from the underside of his wrist almost to his elbow. It bowed out and curved back in like a question mark. Just like Val’s.

“No, that can’t be—”

“When you were sixteen, you stole Dad’s credit card to buy a skateboard. It disappeared at school the next day. You never even got to ride it.”

“I’ve never told anyone that,” Val said.

“No. You didn’t. You were ashamed of what you did.”

They stood a few feet apart, unmoving. Suddenly, the pieces began to fall into place. August was exactly Val’s height. His hair, although shaved close, was the same tawny brown as hers. His eyes creased in the same way that hers did when she smiled. His nose, crooked in the same way. Under his beard, he would have the same chin and the spot on his upper lip. His hand hadn’t just felt small in hers, it felt just like hers. Once she saw it, she couldn’t stop seeing it. Her mind raced with a million questions.

Maybe she could start with one. “How is that possible?”

“Do you know the whole multiverse theory?”

“Like Back to the Future?”

“Not time travel,” he said. “Alternate universes.”

“It’s just a theory, though.”

“I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he said. “My physics professor was running all these experiments in his lab and he asked me to intern. I was like, ‘Why the hell not?’ He paid well enough, anyway. The thing is, he was working on a way to prove his theory, and he needed to send a human subject to an alternate universe.”

“Send someone? How?”

“I don’t really get it, honestly. I failed physics. It has something to do with wormholes and rare earth metals. The timing has to be perfect.”

“Are you telling me you came here from another dimension? You’re me from another dimension?” 

“Basically, yeah,” he said with a definitive nod. 

“So, do I have to ask the obvious?”

“Why you’re you, and I’m me?”

“Why you’re a dude.”

“Sit down with me,” August said.

They sat on fold-out chairs on the deck. Val jumped at the cold metal. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, finally meeting August’s eyes. The same brown as hers. Her eyes. His eyes. It was all very confusing.

“According to Dr. Schwartz’s theory, new dimensions are created when people make decisions, which happens all the time. Every moment of every day, millions of universes are created. Every time you’ve made a decision in your life, there’s another universe out there where you made the opposite choice.”

“I think I’m following.”

“Do you remember that summer when we were nine?”

When we were nine? “Not really. What about it?”

August sighed, his chest rising and falling as he settled into the chair.

“I can’t tell you who you are,” he said. “But I think we both felt the same thing in that moment.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was hot that summer. Mom set up the kiddie pool in the backyard with the hose and Kelly and Andy and Will came over. It was so hot, I just wanted everything off. I watched Andy and Will take off their shirts, so I did too. The sun on my skin felt so good. So free. I think it was the first time I felt free.” He turned to her. “Do you remember?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I do.”

She could feel the heat on her back, the relief of the cool water, and the look on her mother’s face. She could never forget it.

“Kelly teased me about it, but it didn’t matter. We all splashed around and then I wrestled Andy until he tapped out. Mom was making us lemonade, and she brought it out to us in her fancy pitcher. It was crystal. She never let me touch that thing because it was so precious to her. When she saw me like that, shirt off, playing like the boys, she dropped it.”

“Shattered on the concrete,” Val said.

“The way she looked at me, I thought I must have done something terrible,” August said.

“I know. I wanted to curl up or run away or just disappear.”

“That was the first day I was a boy,” August told her. “And then I spent years trying to find myself again. In high school, I read about this guy in a magazine talking about how he’d transitioned. It was crazy—I wouldn’t ever have guessed that this guy… I never realized that people could do that. I didn’t know it was possible.”

A tight, heavy feeling had balled up in Val’s chest. She felt like crying.

“What does that mean about me?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t tell you that,” he said. “Who knows how different we really are, how much our worlds have shaped us.”

She sat there for a long time.

“I can’t believe I thought you were hitting on me,” she said.

August laughed. “You don’t know how hard it is to get a girl alone at a party without sounding like a creep.”

“Jesus christ.” Val joined him.

A rising chatter came from the house behind them. Val listened as the chanting grew in volume.

“Nine!… Eight!… Seven!… Six!…”

“Here we go,” August said.

“What a fucking year,” Val said.

“Two!… One!”

“Happy New Year!”