Chapter 4 #2
He was a thirty-two-year-old man and his idea of fun was 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 of What will I do when the loop ends? For now, he had to focus on getting through the loop and then he’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 the eclipse 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 wrote Shadow 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 was intruding 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 stay the 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 Carly again.
“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.
“Didn’t you tell me to stay out of your business just a few hours ago?” Carly bitterly laughed, her pity turning into disbelief,
which hadn’t been his intention. But what had he thought he’d accomplish with a line like that? That she would just agree and go back to wherever she called home? That
she’d thank him for the reminder?
No, she did none of those things; instead, she put the puppy back on the ground and said, “Get him!” with way too much glee.
The puppy obediently returned to Adam’s pantleg and began to maul it with all the ferocity a four-pound creature could muster.
Carly crossed her arms and watched the dog with a grin. “Consider those little nips retribution for being rude to me and Shireen
today.”
Adam felt momentarily dumbfounded by her comment. Was she really suggesting he deserved to be attacked by a dog because he’d
been rude? This day had taken another unexpected turn he wasn’t at all happy with.
He was, however, happy to end his night on this note, as it was a reminder that he should be home instead of trying to socialize.
What good did that ever do? He reached down, picked up the puppy and placed it in the belly of a rogue shopping cart.
Carly rushed over to grab her dog and cuddled it close to her chest. She’d look nurturing, if she didn’t then lock eyes with Adam and sneer.
Adam straightened, got in the car, slammed the door shut and turned the engine over.
A gentle knock on the window caused him to look up and see Carly’s face so close to the glass that he noticed a birthmark
just underneath her left eyebrow. A round black dot, like the darkest planet in the solar system of her face.
He rolled down the window enough to let her speak.
“Someone blocked you in.” The puppy, now nestled in the crook of her arm, let out a belly growl. Carly pointed and the rearview
mirror revealed an enormous red minivan that prevented Adam from leaving.
When he turned back, she let out a bright huff of air, then added cheerfully, “Have a great night!”
He didn’t even have time to fully process what she’d said until she was walking out of sight. He thumped back into the driver’s
seat. If he never had to see Carly again, it would be the best-case scenario for everyone involved.