The Universe's Translator

The smell of freshly ground coffee carried onto the patio and down the quiet Monday morning sidewalk. It drifted past the benches and planters, reaching the noses of college students from the campus just a street over, families taking advantage of the cooler air, and anyone else who knew they only had a few hours before the Central Valley heat took over from mid-afternoon into the evening.

September mornings were strange that way. By noon, the heat could make the valley feel almost like a desert, but early in the morning, there was still a little mercy in the air. Families took their children to the parks, couples walked with their coffee, and students hurried across the street with backpacks hanging from their shoulders. The coffee shop on campus had opened around 7:30 a.m.

Douglas had been awake since four in the morning.

He wasn’t a morning person, but he had a paper due, and apparently, waiting until the last minute had finally caught up with him. He only had until Thursday, three more days, to write a first draft and bring it to class for peer review. There was no getting out of it.

He sat at one of the patio tables with his notebook open, a half-finished cup of coffee beside him, and a book he had been attempting to read for the last twenty minutes.

He was trying to study, but then he looked up just in time to see the girl with the mint-colored skates. It was hard not to look when they were so bright and sparkly. The sun hit her curly, cherry-red hair, which bounced around her shoulders as she moved. She wore round sunglasses that looked like they were hanging on for dear life, and glitter swam across her cheeks. Her clothes were thrown together like someone who cared more about comfort than looking put together, though somehow, she still looked like an artist.

Douglas watched her skate past. Then she nearly ran into a trash can. She caught herself at the last second, laughed, and kept going. He smiled and looked back down at his book. A few seconds later, the sound of wheels came back. She was skating backward this time.

Douglas looked up again. The girl stopped directly in front of the patio and stared at him through her glasses. She looked him up and down, not in an intimidating way, but like someone in a field watching wildlife. “Are you studying?”

Douglas glanced around as if she could be talking to someone else. “Trying to.”

She nodded seriously. “That’s unfortunate.”

He laughed. She grinned, then pushed herself forward again, skating toward the coffee shop.

Douglas watched her disappear through the door. He tried to return to his book, but his attention kept drifting toward the window. He could see her at the counter, laughing with the barista. Her laugh was loud and carried all the way outside whenever someone opened the door.

It made him stop, his lips twitching into a smile he couldn’t help. He kept staring, feeling strangely drawn to her. It was the first time he had felt any joy in a week, and somehow, this girl’s loud, carefree laugh had managed to pull it out of him.

Whatever the two of them were talking about, they were cracking up.

Douglas forced himself to look back at his book. If he couldn’t finish it soon, he was at risk of getting a low grade. Even though his final essay wasn’t due for another two weeks, he still needed to come up with something for the next class, where they would be peer-reviewing drafts.

He picked up his highlighters and tried to underline the important lines. The only problem was that it felt like every line was important.

“Oh, The Bell Jar, I’ve read that,” a voice said. Douglas looked up and saw that it was the girl from before with the skates. She had her sunglasses off, her bright hazel eyes locked on him. He wasn’t sure how to react, not even hearing her roll up to him. She hung on the metal fence from the outside. “I thought I saw that title the first time, but wasn’t sure until I got the second look. You like it?”

He tried to come up with something to help carry the conversation. “I’m reading it for a class.”

“Which class?”

“English 142. The professor assigned it.”

“So you’re an English major?”

“No,” Douglas said, feeling his ears turn bright pink. “Psychology.”

“Oh… hmm. Yeah, you look like the type who wants to fix people,” she said, laughing. Before he could ask what she meant, she continued. “Wait, why are you taking that class?”

“Requirements. It was on the list of classes to choose from. I just picked it because I overheard that the professor was nice. I have two weeks to write this essay.”

“And what page are you on?”

“Thirty-two,” he said bashfully. He should have been way farther ahead. Though, it’s not like she would know, he thought to himself.

“Oh, dang. You’ve got a lot to catch up on,” she said.

Oh. Perhaps she did know. “I suppose,” he said. “You like it?”

Kat shrugged. “Yeah. It’s depressing as hell, but yeah. I like it.”

Douglas smiled. “That’s one way to describe it.”

“I mean, it’s about this girl who feels trapped under a bell jar. Everyone else can breathe normally, and she’s just…” She waved a hand around, looking for the word as if she could catch it out of thin air. “Stuck. It’s chaotically peaceful.”

Douglas looked at her for a second. “I like the way you describe it.”

He stood from the metal chair and held out his hand. “I’m Douglas.”

He had always been a giant. His whole life, really. Even back in first grade, he had been nearly as tall as his teacher. Granted, it probably didn’t help that she was a small woman, but he was pretty sure she never expected to be face-to-face with a first grader until she met him.

Kat didn’t shake his hand. Instead, she looked at it, then back at him.

“You tell strangers your name? Damn. You trust easily.”

Douglas smiled. “It’s not a good thing.”

His smile faded.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I…” He stumbled over his words, suddenly unsure of what to say. The red from Douglas’s ears spread across his face.

She looked at him but ended up having mercy. “If we see each other again, I’ll tell you my name. That’ll be a sign from the Universe.”

“The Universe?” he questioned.

She winked, pushing herself off the metal. She skated backward flawlessly as she said, “I have to get going. Good luck, Douglas.”

She started to roll away before he could find the words to ask her to come back. He sat there with his back against the wall, watching her go. He didn’t realize until nearly an hour later that he was still staring at the ground, trying to put the pieces together.