Lateral Moves

The door clicked shut behind me... I was barely aware of it.

I knew that I’d made it home. I just couldn’t think of how. Even standing in the small apartment hallway, my mind just kept spinning.

The dripping of the faucet in the kitchen seemed to take over the place.

I then became aware of the thrum of the air conditioner.

It all seemed too loud, too prominent. Every background noise was amplified one after the other.

My mind refused to hold what I had seen and was trying to escape it by hyper-focusing on the minute details of the apartment.

Unseeing, I put my coat, bag, and shoes up on their hooks. I didn’t need to think about it... I did it every day.

What I saw wasn’t possible.

Teaching was exhausting and frustrating, but it wasn’t cause to hallucinate or see things that weren’t there. Everyone insisted it was normal... nothing was out of the ordinary. Nothing amiss.

I sat there at Angelo’s coffee shop. I’d been there so many times before... even took Robbie there when she had a bad day at work.

What I saw wasn’t normal... I know what I saw.

My thoughts were scattered. I wandered into the living room and heard Robbie in the kitchen. She must have been off work early. Normally I got home and started dinner... she worked till 9 most nights.

It was a nice surprise.

She was humming some pop ballad... it was just nice to see her after all of the strangeness of the day.

I felt relieved and more grounded in her presence.

Walking up behind her, I gave her a hug and nuzzled her coppery hair.

She gave a squeak and turned in my arms. She broke into a grin and then pulled back.

“Brad, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What happened?”

In response, I pulled her close and hugged her tight, laying my cheek on top of her head. I just breathed.

Ding!

The microwave was done, and I smelled the aroma of Hot Pockets. Funny, she hadn’t had those since her gluten allergy got diagnosed.

“You found gluten-free Hot Pockets! That’s amazing, honey! I know how much you liked them.”

She looked at me strangely.

“What? Why would I have gluten-free Hot Pockets?”

“Your allergy... you got diagnosed last year.”

She stared at me and slowly shook her head.

“Honey... go sit down. I will make you a couple. Or do you want noodles?”

Then she widened her eyes and took a bite of her Hot Pocket, yelping a little. She burned her mouth again because she could never wait.

I smiled a little and shook my head.

“I’d say be careful, it’s hot, but it would be redundant. If you’re up for it, I’d love a cup of noodles... shrimp please.”

She laughed and nodded.

“Okay.”

Robbie couldn’t cook. She’d never gotten the hang of it. I would make dinner later.

I went to the little kitchen table and sat down, staring blindly out the window. I watched cars go by on the street below and thought about the day.

But something caught me through the haze...

Why did the cars look so big?

They looked like something out of the 70s.

It felt like the world hadn’t quite changed…it was almost as though it had just shifted sideways a few inches.

“Hon, is a car show in town?”

And then I heard it... sizzling.

I smelled the scent of Thai peppers, shrimp, and various vegetables.

A few minutes later, Robbie came out with a bowl of something that smelled delicious and set it in front of me.

“Noodles as requested.” She gave a silly little waiter bow with a smile.

I sat blinking at her.

“What? Not enough peppers?” she looked about to holler at me.

I shook my head.

“No, no, it’s fine... it’s great and smells amazing. Rob... when did you learn to cook?” I asked cautiously.

She gave me a look that said she felt I was slipping.

“When I went to culinary school. It’s how I got my job... at Felix’s. I’ve brought you home food from there... I made it myself. Brad, you’re really starting to scare me. What’s going on?” She looked unsettled.

I took a cautious bite, and it was amazing. I scarfed it all down in seconds and just looked at her in shock.

“This is amazing... you’re amazing!”

She smiled a little, incredulous but happy.

“Yeah, thanks... it’s your favorite dish. You act like this is your first time tasting it. Again Brad, what’s going on?”

She crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the table.

I cleared my throat and started telling her about my day.

She looked skeptical and scrunched up her mouth like she does when she is weighing her words.

“I know what I saw... it’s bizarre. But I know something is wrong. It’s like it’s this way and everybody says it’s another way.”

She mulled it over and gave a sigh.

“Honey, think about it... this isn’t going to matter tomorrow. And besides, who really cares?”

“I do! I know something is wrong.” I frowned.

“Are you absolutely sure, Brad?” She gave me a pitying look.

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I said it firmly.

“Rob, I know it sounds crazy but I... I’m scared.”

Concern was painted on her features.

“I keep seeing things that aren’t right. At Angelo’s today. The school roster. The cars outside... even you cooking and having Hot Pockets... it’s all just wrong, Rob.”

She huffed at me.

“Brad, I don’t know what to tell you... it’s always been this way. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I know. But I’m really scared. It’s like... I... I wonder if I’m...”

I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

She arched an eyebrow.

“What, you sliding into another dimension?”

She was being sarcastic.

How did I tell her that was exactly what I was afraid of?

She closed her eyes, shook her head, and walked back into the kitchen.

“You want any hot cocoa?”

I slowly turned my head toward her voice.

Robbie hated chocolate.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

I loved it but never drank it because she couldn’t stand the smell.

I got up to look out the window. I watched the too-big cars go by. I knew it was all wrong.

I went to turn and ask her to put a little peppermint in mine when my foot crunched on a yellow sheet of paper. I bent down and grabbed it.

When I turned it over, I recognized my handwriting but not the words.

There was no way that I could lose Robbie...

She was my life.

And I knew.

9:30 PM — Brad and Robbie’s Apartment

I walked in the door expecting to smell Brad’s amazing cooking. He cooked dinner every night when he got off work at school.

It would make this discussion much harder.

But I couldn’t put it off any longer.

Brad was a great guy, one of the good ones. But he just didn’t understand my work. He never would.

Oliver did.

And that’s why we had to talk tonight.

It just wasn’t working.

I couldn’t do this anymore.

I hung up my coat on the hook next to Brad’s. His coat and bag were already there... his shoes were too.

Good. It was almost over.

I walked down the hallway and into the kitchen.

And smelled Hot Pockets.

What the hell?

I hadn’t had a Hot Pocket since I got diagnosed as allergic to gluten a year ago.

Brad was never impolite like this. He knew that I loved and missed them so much.

I called out to him.

I looked at the untouched stove.

Something was wrong.

I looked around the apartment for him.

He was nowhere to be found.

Like he was just...

gone.

Author’s Note:

This story was inspired by an idea from my father, Jeff Anspaugh. The concept of a man unknowingly slipping sideways between dimensions while everyone around him acts as though everything is normal came from one of our brainstorming conversations, and I developed the narrative from there.