Chapter 3
Chapter Three
A Disastrous Bagel Run
Getting dressed hadn’t been difficult. Amie’s outfits had been one of the few things she’d change on a daily basis in the time loop, though there hadn’t been many in the rotation.
There was a brief moment of confusion before she remembered that her favorite pair of jeans was still in the hamper and hadn’t been supernaturally returned to their drawer.
Grabbing a pair of shorts instead, she dressed before traveling a few doors down to see David.
Knock knock. Knock. Knock knock knock.
No response.
It was unlikely that he was still asleep, but there were a number of places he could have been: laundry room, hardware store, yet another yard sale.
I’ll swing by later. Amie headed downstairs.
In the time loop, leaving her apartment building hadn’t been the same exact experience every morning, although she had gotten into the habit of leaving around 9 AM on most days.
But after seven hundred and sixty-ish goes of it, she had pretty much exited the building during every period of the day (and some of the night).
As she pushed open the front door of her building a little after nine o’clock, Amie knew logically that she probably wouldn’t see the matching tracksuit couple, or the guy from 1A returning home with only one shoe, or the person with the mullet struggling to lock their bicycle to the lamppost. And yet she was still startled to be instead greeted by wet pavement and unfamiliar pedestrians.
The rain had stopped, but light gray clouds still hung overhead, diffusing the sunlight that was fighting to break through. September 17 had still felt like summer, but there was a slight chill in the air on September 18 that evoked a feeling of the approaching autumn.
Amie wrapped her arms around herself—because of the weather or a need for comfort, she wasn’t sure—and began making her way down the front steps to the sidewalk.
She didn’t notice the prickle of anxiety that had started to spread through her body until she reached the bottom of the stairs.
You’re fine, she told herself. It’s a new day. You’re free!
Giving a shaky smile to a passing couple, Amie straightened her shoulders and began walking down the sidewalk toward Eons.
She made it about ten steps before a bicycle bell rang behind her, causing her to yelp and jump out of the way.
“Sorry,” the bicyclist said, shooting her a concerned look as he rode past.
“Not a problem,” Amie replied hurriedly.
You’ve made this walk hundreds of times. Just go to the coffee shop. It’s not that hard.
She took in a slow, deep breath, tucked her elbows in close to her sides, and resumed her trek.
As she passed the delicatessen, instinct had her drifting to the left of the sidewalk. Someone in the neighborhood refused to pick up after their dog, and Amie had learned to hug the curb outside of the deli to save her shoes. Risking a quick glance to her right, she saw the spot was free of feces.
Right, she thought, chuckling to herself. New day, no poop.
The chuckle died in her throat as she moved her focus to the sidewalk in front of her, becoming even more cautious of where she walked.
After half a block, she felt her shoulders begin to relax. Allowing herself to look around, she started taking in the details of this new day. Her arms even began to swing a bit as she walked.
“Excuse me?”
Amie skidded to a stop, almost running into the person who had stepped in front of her.
“Uh … huh?” Amie asked. She felt her heart rate increase.
“I’m looking for 1670 North Grove Street,” the man said, looking at a map on his phone as he spoke. “I’m a little confused by the numbers … do you know if it’s over here, or …”
“Ah …” Her mouth had gone dry. What’s happening to me? “I … I don’t …”
The man sighed. “It’s fine, I’ll figure it out. Thanks anyway.”
“Okay,” Amie managed to get out as he passed her.
What the hell was that?
Amie was almost never the most sociable person in the room, but she’d never struggled to talk to people, especially those in need of assistance. She was the kind of person who’d jump in with an eager “Do you want me to take that for you?” any time she’d see a couple trying to take a selfie.
Still shaking off the dust. She gave her head a sharp jerk, as if that would somehow reset whatever was wrong with her brain.
She spotted a woman rounding the corner up ahead, walking down the sidewalk toward her.
All right, Amie thought, putting her shoulders back again as she resumed walking. When you walk past, you’re going to say, “Good morning!” Easy enough. Here we go.
There was a rumbling behind her, and Amie looked over her shoulder to see a moving truck driving down the street. She turned back to see the woman veer to the other side of the sidewalk.
Get a grip, she thought to herself, forcing what she hoped was a pleasant smile onto her face. You’re being weird. People are noticing.
As a cold shock of water hit the left side of her body, she realized why the woman had moved. The truck continued past her down the street, leaving her sopping wet from the puddle it had sped through.
“Rough luck,” the woman said sympathetically as she passed.
“Ah, yeah, well,” Amie stammered, frozen in place as water dripped from her clothes.
Remembering her self-appointed mission, she spun around, blurting out, “It’s morning!”
The woman glanced back, giving her a confused smile before walking away. (Granted, that could’ve just been how the woman’s regular smile looked, but there’s really no other way to respond to a sopping-wet stranger yelling “It’s morning!” at you than with confusion.)
Amie shook puddle water from her arm, wiping it on the drier side of her shirt.
She briefly contemplated giving up and heading back to her apartment to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, or maybe forever.
But the trip back to her building felt just as daunting as her remaining journey to the coffee shop, and at least the latter held the potential of a long-awaited blueberry bagel.
Steeling herself, Amie continued down the sidewalk. Just be normal.
The rest of her outing was not, despite her best efforts, normal.
Amie found herself swerving away from people she passed on the sidewalk, heart jumping into her throat any time someone so much as looked at her.
She almost bowled over a man sweeping in front of a store when a motorcycle roared down the street.
An unsuspecting pigeon nearly got kicked in the head when it fluttered down to land by her shoes.
“Sorry,” Amie whispered to the pigeon as she shuffled around it.
Just when she thought she’d overcome every obstacle between her and her destination, she was confronted by the final boss: police tape, blocking the sidewalk ahead of her.
An officer stood by the building holding one end of the tape, which was wrapped around a telephone pole and street sign to cordon off the sidewalk in front of the café and the bookshop next door.
Amie stopped, her shoulders slumping with defeat as she kept herself from groaning out loud.
She was so preoccupied with her disheartenment that she wasn’t even startled when someone walked right past her and up to the cop.
Thankfully, she wasn’t so preoccupied as to not notice them exchange a few words before the officer stepped aside, allowing the person to enter the café.
Is it open or not? Amie wondered, taking a few curious steps forward. Then she stopped. She knew all she had to do was ask the officer if she could go inside or not, but for some reason she just couldn’t come up with the words.
The cop finally saw her—which wasn’t too impressive a feat, as she was standing frozen in the middle of the sidewalk with what she could only imagine was a very distressed look on her face.
“You gotta go around,” the officer called to her. “Or are you trying to get to the café?”
Amie nodded, finding herself still capable of answering yes or no questions.
The cop stepped to the side, leaving a space for her to walk through. “Go ahead.”
Amie’s feet instinctually began moving, having been given a clear direction. She kept her gaze on the ground as she passed the officer, pulled the door open, and slipped inside.
Finally, she had made it to Eons Café. The line at the counter was much shorter than it had been on September 17, like a peace offering from the universe.
(Although it was more likely due to the police tape that made it seem as if the business was closed.) Amie automatically made a beeline for the napkins before remembering that there probably wouldn’t be a spill to clean up this time.
Considering the trajectory of her morning so far, though, it wasn’t completely out of the question.
As she took her spot at the back of the line, she exhaled heavily. “Do you have blueberry bagels today?” she rehearsed in her head, craning her neck to try to see the selection of baked goods in the glass display.
Moving up with the line, Amie spotted them—the blueberry bagels.
A smile began to grow on her face. She knew she probably looked strange, smiling at a bunch of bagels, but she didn’t care.
It was like a beam of light was shining down from the heavens, illuminating the basket in the display that had been empty for seven hundred and sixty-ish September 17ths.
“Hey there,” the barista greeted Amie cheerfully as she stepped up. Jess had short brown hair with matching brown eyes, had knowingly taken Amie’s order over three hundred times, and had unknowingly taken it seven hundred and sixty-ish times on top of that.
“Go for a swim this morning?” they asked.
Amie’s mouth hung open. She’d been ready to ask about the blueberry bagels, but this unexpected question swiftly undid all of her work in rehearsal.
“Uh,” she said, chest tightening. “What?”
Jess gestured to her damp clothes.
“Oh!” Amie exclaimed, looking down at herself. “No, um … a truck. There was a truck, and a puddle. Water. On me.”