Page 10 of Not You Again
He was sore from the hour of rage cleaning, but the space was as he remembered. So the hard work had paid off. He cringed as he thought of that word:work. His parents had asked him to get out of his routine, but did cleaning really count?
He was a thirty-two-year-old man and his idea of funwas spending the day tidying up his childhood tree house. Maybe he was depressed. Maybe they were right to be concerned. But also, maybe he didn’t know what to do about those things.
Adam had a people-pleaser problem that he was keenly aware of. He’d lived his life the way his parents wanted him to. That was why he’d trusted his dad’s advice to stay in the family business—it was a sure thing, guaranteed to give him stability. There’d been some discussion of pursuing astronomy—Caltech and the Jet Propulsion Lab were both a few hours’ drive away; he wouldn’t have to leave the state to pursue his degree and eventual job.
But what kind of job would he be able to get after college? his parents had asked. While stargazing was a nice hobby, it wasn’t a career. When Adam realized his work was in the ground instead of the sky, everything had clicked into place. Bill added Adam’s name to the masthead, got him business cards and made Adam the face of the place.
And Adam had been fine with that—until his marriage imploded. Now he had the occasional rogue thought ofWhat will I do when the loop ends?For now, he had to focus on getting through the loop andthenhe’d figure out life on the outside.
The thing that got him through were his daily observations about the loop. The total solar eclipse happened every day at 5:07 p.m. Sunset at 7:29 p.m. The stars were visible by 8:20 p.m. If he could focus on those reliable things, the thoughts of Shireen would blur into the background, even if just for a few fleeting moments.
So even though he’d promised to get out of his routine, he couldn’t help himself. When the time came, Adam opened the telescope case, assembled the parts, wiped the lens and settled himself behind it. He took out his notebook and pen, opened to a clean page and waited. His notes would vanish when theeclipse reset but writing them down helped him commit the thoughts to memory—which was all he really had. Then he saw the rippling shadows on the ground and wroteShadow bands appear, normal size and frequency.
Shadow bands were a phenomenon that only occurred during total solar eclipses. There were theories, but no one really knew what caused them to form on the ground right before and after an eclipse. Adam spent a good chunk of each loop trying to solve where they came from. Most scientists only got to witness them a handful of times, after all, but he got to see them every day.
Adam put on his eclipse glasses as the sun became a black hole rimmed with hot fire—the dilated pupil watching the world. He started to time the eclipse on his watch and waited.
As always, the world went quiet—birds and creatures convinced that night had fallen—and the usual calm of being focused washed over him. Studying the eclipse was within his control. Making observations gave him a sense of purpose. He may not know exactly how to pull himself out of this bad place, but he did know what was above him. He waited. Almost four minutes had passed, which signaled it was nearly time to hit Stop. At the moment when the sun came back to full view, he glanced at his watch. Four minutes and thirty-two seconds, like usual.
Adam exhaled. It would be another two hours until night covered the world in a dark blanket. He had more time to kill. And Adam figured a shower would be nice. He started back to the house, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows he could make out his mom pouring two glasses of red wine. Bill was at the stove, stirring something in a pot. Sheila laughed, sipped her wine, then held out a glass for him to take a sip, but he kissed her instead. Adam glanced away, realizing he wasintruding on a private moment. Adam’s parents had let him stay at their house each and every loop without question. But today they were worried about him.
Instead of going through the back doors, he walked around the house to the driveway. His car was parked there, keys in the cupholder. He’d leave the house. He’d get out. And he’d do this for Bill and Sheila. Adam started the car, pulled out of the driveway and headed into town.
Adam drove down the dirt road, past apple orchards, fences that corralled horses and sheep and cows, and eventually made it to the asphalt, which signaled he was closing in. Even though their town was a smaller one, Main Street never failed to be crowded. As he pulled up to the top of the intersection, he was unable to continue because enormous sectional sofas had been lined up in the crosswalk. Children bounced across them like trampolines. There were cars parked outside the couch blockade—a makeshift parking lot—so Adam pulled into an open spot and killed the engine.
As a general rule, Adam avoided going into town. He’d once witnessed his former pediatrician doing a shirtless keg stand, and decided he didn’t want his entire childhood destroyed. But if ever there was a place to fade into the background, it was here. When he got out of the car a thunderous boom sounded, and he ducked down. The sky lit up in streaks of red and gold as a firework exploded over his head. He glanced around to see if anyone else had the same reaction, but the couch kids only pointed with glee.
Goldie and her Clydesdale clip-clopped past as she spoke into a megaphone. “Six-hour warning!”
Six hours on Main Street was a lot. He didn’t have to staythe whole time. He could go for a stroll and—his thoughts stalled as a sled crossed the road in front of him.
“Mush!” a petite woman shouted as she slapped the reins against at least six grown men running at top speed to carry her across the asphalt.
Yes, he would be going home now.
Adam turned to open the car door, but then a puppy ran between his legs, yipping and nipping at his ankle. The thing latched on to his pantleg and shook the fabric violently with its teeth, like the pants had offended him.
“Excuse me,” Adam said as he tried to unlatch the dog. “You’re far too tiny to be this strong.” The dog was on the verge of making Adam topple over.
“Apple!” The voice was familiar, and when Adam looked up there was a woman with jet-black hair, massive glasses and a black dress walking toward them—the emo grim reaper. “Oh,” Carly said, and wiped a tear from her eye.
Had she been crying? A flush crept through her cheeks. Maybe she was just embarrassed? He wasn’t sure. But he bent down and picked up the puppy and held it out to her. “Is this... an apple?”
She took the puppy. “This is a dog,” she said with absolutely no humor in her voice. “I named him Apple.”
They stared at each other. He was honestly quite impressed that no matter what, they seemed to always be miscommunicating. Any comment he made was instantly considered offensive. That much had been apparent from the first day of the loop, when he’d seemingly provoked her by offering help. Some people just couldn’t get along, or even make small talk, apparently. Carly and Adam were those people.
“I was making a joke,” he clarified.
“But jokes should be funny.” She gave him a look, as if to say she pitied him.
But Adam had enough of being pitied for the day—first Carly, then his parents and now Carlyagain.
“Have you been crying?” he asked. Why the hell did he even care? Whether or not she’d been crying wasn’t any of his business.
“I cry easily,” she said by way of answer. “Apple got upset about the fireworks and was shaking. I held him to my chest and just—” Her voice cut off and she wiped at her eye again.
Despite his line of work, Adam wasn’t all that comfortable with raw emotion, so he filled the silence. “Should you be out here on your own? It’s not safe this late in the day.” What was he, the curfew police? He sounded like a disgruntled old man shaking his fist from the safety of his porch.
