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LEXI

A car pulled into my driveway, tires crunching the gravel.

I ran to the window to look out. I quickly thought both: Oh good, Jen is here, and also, uh oh, Jen is here.

I grabbed the gun and opened the door, looking right and left.

She got out of the car and froze with her hand on the door. “What’s going on, Lexi? You look spooked.”

I waved her over. “I am spooked. Come inside. I need to tell you about it.”

I glanced down at the back-shack.

Her eyes followed mine and went wide. “Did someone break into the back house? Is someone here?”

“No, it’s a guest — just come inside. That’s not the scary part, not really.”

I let her in and closed and locked the door behind us. “First, how was your date?”

“You’ve got a gun waving around and you’re locking doors like you’re a fugitive from the law and you want to know about my date?”

“Yes, I want to know about your date. This is nothing.” I put the gun down. “Everything is fine.”

“My date was fine. He’s actually fantastic. I will see him again.”

“How come you’re here? You didn’t bump uglies? Weren’t feeling it?”

She laughed, “That’s so classy of you, how do you know we didn’t?”

My eyes went wide. “He’s high-pitched and fast in bed? Doesn’t sound like a fantastic guy, sounds kinda like you’re out of his league.”

She sat down on my kitchen stool with a sigh and put her handbag on the counter.

“He’s not out of my league. One thing I’ve wondered as I’ve gotten older is — where do I get off with so many highfaluting ideas about my own worth?

I’m not that great, honestly. He’s fine, he made me laugh.

He kissed me nicely at my door. And he told me he wanted to see me again.

I told him that I was expected here and so he let me off the hook.

It was all very responsible and he was reasonable.

I didn’t lie or make excuses. He didn’t get weird. ”

“Great, he sounds like a keeper. I’m going to call him Mr Passable.”

She raised her brow. “So whatchu doing, nut job?”

“Who me? Just harboring a time traveler in my back-shack.”

“Say, what?”

“So,... you know the guy from the hospital the other morning?”

She looked incredulous and sarcastic. “No recollection at all, I totally forgot about the hottie with the Scottish accent, the chiseled cheek that could cut glass, and the wide burden-carrying shoulders.” Her eyes went jokingly far away and she sighed.

Then she redirected her narrowed eyes at me. “Are you saying he’s in your back house?”

I nodded. “Remember how I told you that there had been a weird fluke storm and then he was lying out on my grass?”

“Yeah, hence the endearment I used for you earlier, ‘nutjob’. The storm is not related to it, probably.”

“But it is. Because now it’s happened again twice .

The next day, and just a little while ago, I think…

without Cooper here, the days are running together.

Both times there have been storms and he’s out on the lawn again.

Practically the same place.” I opened a bottle of wine and got two glasses from the cabinet.

“What the hell? It’s like Groundhog Day.”

“Exactly! I grabbed Cooper’s gun and went down there and he was really pitiful, in pain and exhausted and thirsty, so I gave him water and made him a sandwich.” I poured wine in our glasses and passed her one.

She raised her brow. “You made him a sandwich! I bet you made him a sandwich. I bet you wanted to smooth some butter on it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? That is a pitiful comeback, really beneath you.”

“Yeah, I’m off my game. I had to be so attractive and fun on my date, now I’m spent.”

“He was pitiful, Jen, that’s the point.” I took a sip and then thought, I really shouldn’t drink, there’s likely danger about. I pushed the glass far away on the counter.

She said, “He is too hot to be pitiful. I suppose if he’s pitiful in front of you, you want to make him a sandwich.”

“I told him to go away and thought that was the end of it, then just a little while ago, there was another one of those storms. I tell you, Jen, I didn’t really believe that it was related or worse, supernatural?—”

She scoffed. “Come on, Lexi, that’s crazy .”

“I know, I didn’t believe it, but when that third storm happened, my heart just dropped, it was… I knew it wasn’t normal or natural. I rushed outside and there were two men lying?—”

“Two!”

“Yep, and then, as I approached, they got to their feet and started swinging swords at each other, fighting to the death on my lawn.”

“Right outside?”

“Yep, it was like something out of a movie. I can still hear the sounds of their grunts and the steel blades, clanging. It was wild and terrifying.” I gulped. “Nothing like a movie, this was really scary.”

“So you were like out there and these two guys were sword-fighting in your yard...” She fanned herself. “Like big swords? Like really big swords?”

“Yes, and this is not funny, and it’s not sexy, Jen. The other guy charged at me and Torin got between us and told me to get behind him — it was like he was protecting me?—”

“Hot.”

“Terrifying. Then Torin cut the guy, so much blood, and the guy fled.”

“So Torin won.”

“I think it was more like a draw. I didn’t know what to do — Torin needed to rest. He’s wiped out. His shoulder was already injured before the sword fight, so it made sense to let him stay in the back-shack.”

“So kinda like Dude, he’s a stray and you’ve taken him in.”

“Exactly like the cat, yeah, very perceptive. He’s just like a cat.” I rolled my eyes again.

“So, putting all the insane stuff aside, what is his explanation for why he’s been stalking you for days, while, I will remind you, Cooper is out of town?”

“That isn’t… I don’t think it can be described as stalking. He doesn’t want to be here. His explanation is that he’s stuck, he has a vessel thingy, and it keeps accidentally bringing him here.”

She screwed her face up. “To your yard? That is not a thing that happens. You can’t possibly believe it.”

“I don’t not believe it. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t think of any other explanation. He’s landing in my yard, unconscious, and it keeps happening. He’s not there, then he is. Plus the storms.”

“So you totally believe the storms are related?”

“The storms are caused by it.”

“He’s riding storms? Like some kind of god — is he Thor?” Her eyes went wide, “His name is Torin, is he?—”

I interrupted, “Do you hear yourself?”

“Yeah, back at you. It’s wild that you can believe he’s riding storms but if I ask if he’s Thor you dismiss it as loony.”

“Thor isn’t real.”

“Tell that to the Vikings.” She raised her glass.

“Let’s get back to the matter at hand.”

“Sure, you’re telling me that Torin’s story is that he travels around on that can-sized object. That somehow he keeps appearing here by mistake. From where, Scotland? This doesn’t sound right.”

I corrected, “The question isn’t from where, the question is from when . I told you, he’s a time traveler.”

“He’s a ‘time traveler’.” She used her fingers for air quotes. “You just say, ‘He’s a time traveler,’ like it’s a reasonable thing.”

“Yep, he’s from… like the 1500s, I can’t remember.”

Her eyes drew to the window, as she sipped from her glass, looking down at the back-shack, nodding her head.

Then she put the glass down. “I’ve thought this through and I have one thing to say: Hogwash.”

I shrugged. “I agree, give me one other more reasonable explanation for how a weird ferocious storm, a historical-seeming man wearing a kilt, a small hand-held object, and a sword-fight all happen to appear in my yard. I’m listening. I want to know what you think.”

She joked, “Do you think he sleeps in the nude? Let’s go down there and tell him I’m confused and ask him to explain the whole story to me.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“So this man, you say is from the 1500s, is in your back-shack. How long is he planning to live back there?”

“Just while he rests and, I don’t know, figures out how to get back to his home.”

“His home in the,” she counted, “sixteenth century?”

“Ayup.”

“Well, this is wild. Kinda glad I came over, this is much more exciting than sucking face with Mr Passable. A time traveler? I just still don’t think that’s something that happens.”

“It’s happening.”

“So what is Cooper going to say, you think?”

“You’ve known him since high school, you tell me.”

“Yeah, I think he’s going to be pissed, I think he’s going to think you’ve let down your guard?—”

“I’m armed.”

“And that you’ve invited some hottie?—”

“You keep saying that, he’s hot, yeah, but I’m not really into that many muscles. I like my men more lanky, I guess.”

“Please don’t say that to Cooper, not while you’re telling him you let a kilted stranger with a big long sword into the back-love-shack while he’s away.”

“Yeah, I guess that would not be good, but I do think Cooper is plenty hot enough.”

Her eyes went to the window again and she said, “Oh, look, he’s outside.”

He had walked out onto the stoop and leaned against the wood rail. He had his fingers tucked in his belt, a sword at his hip, wide shoulders, and a broad chest. He was illuminated from behind by the light streaming from the back-shack. He looked as if he were guarding over the yard.

He was very very handsome.

Jen fanned herself. “Boy, howdy, that is a hot man, even in his weird, handmade medieval cloak. Is there anything sexier than a kilt? I mean, come on, I can almost see his knees, and knees are almost as hot as the veins on the back of his hand.”

I said, “Maybe I should go talk to him. You think he needs something?”

He left the porch, sauntered over to the trees, and disappeared for a few minutes. When he returned he was adjusting his kilt.

I grimaced. “I think he just pissed in my woods.”

“Yep, this is the first time I actually believed you that he’s a time traveler.”

“I don’t think he knows how to turn off the lights either. Should we go down?”

“Yep. Let’s take the bottle of wine.”