Chapter 19
The rain comes down, again, in a torrent. Just as it did yesterday.
“No answer at Miranda’s office,” says Matt, coming back in. His hair is messy from the hand he ran through it over and over after discovering that the bridge is, in fact, of course, closed. The storm is rolling in hard.
“Try again?” I ask, helplessly.
“I tried about twenty times.”
“I don’t know what to do, wasn’t there supposed to be a”—I use heavy air quotes—“‘celebration’ today? I mean, I have a flight and work, I think a critic is coming in this week, and I have about a million things to do.”
“I’m with you,” says Matt. “I’ll be incredibly behind after this.”
Sammie makes an exasperated sound and then flops her body onto the couch. She’s small and looks willowy, but she lands with a loud plop. “Can you listen to me for just like, two seconds?” Sammie’s airy voice drifts toward us, and we turn toward her. Her eyes are shut.
“I’m listening,” I say.
“I think … I think this is Mom.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “You mean you think Babe bribed everyone to make us lose all sense of reality? That, I can maybe buy.”
“No, I’m not saying that. Your hand!” She motions violently and then puts a pillow over her face.
“Look, Sammie, I know. It’s strange. Something is definitely going on. I’m not trying to play dumb, really. It’s just … what’s the other option, we believe … we believe…”
“Exactly, what are we trying to believe?”
“It feels ridiculous to suggest, but it does seem a lot like Groundhog Day, doesn’t it?” ventures Austin.
Sammie is visibly relieved to have gotten someone to budge and swipes a hand in his direction.
“You can’t be serious,” I object.
“You were in town yesterday, Red, did you see anything happen that was the same as today?”
I blush, thinking of my visit to the athletic center. Did he see me? “How did you know I was in town?”
“Because I picked you up from the grocery store?”
“Oh.” I go beet red, I can feel it. “Right.”
“After you swung by the club,” he adds, looking amused.
I might actually die.
“You went to the club?” interjects Sammie, taking a break from her panic to pry.
I look to Matt, who does an I’m not saying anything face.
I sigh. “I did notice on the way into town, those guys with the red pickup? They were there yesterday too.”
“Okay,” says Matt. “Circumstantial.”
“Agreed,” I say. “Some of the same guys at Sunhouse. Soccer was on at the sports bar, but I don’t know if it was the same game. Same colored jerseys.”
“Circumstantial, possibly irrelevant.”
Sammie gasps and looks past all of us. “Here he comes.”
We all follow her doe-eyed gaze and see him. Through the gray haze of rain, the yellow figure of Mr. Kelly, dragging his cooler.
Again. Exactly as he did before.