The Women of Custer City Ch. 04-05

Chapter 4

I won't go into detail describing my morning because I know how predictable time loops are. I woke up at 6:13. Obviously. I woke in my unkempt house, alone in my bed, just like every other morning. Sure, there were small differences like how nervous I was to see Amanda again, the way I paced around my house, and stared at a mirror until my face was as close to perfect as I could get it, but all told, the day was exactly the same as any other. Someone watching me would know the exact time I woke up the same way we knew the exact time Amber walked into the bar, and anyone watching Amanda knew she woke up at 8:27. Time loops are predictable.

Amanda woke up in her own bed, in her own room, at exactly 8:27. Her bangs were waxy and stuck to her forehead. She slept in her scrubs, and her time on-call had started to gouge deep bags under her eyes. When Amanda left her house that morning and saw my ex-girlfriend Sadie walking by her house, there were no coincidences. Of course, Amanda would wake up at 8:27, and of course, she'd rush outside and find Sadie waiting. Sadie knew it as well as I did. Time loops are predictable.

I'll get to that though. Like I said, Amanda woke up at 8:27. She'd fallen asleep coated in hospital residue and the fabric ran up past her naval. Her arms hung drunkenly over her unkempt bed, and she chewed the sour morning taste from her mouth. She twisted herself into a stretch, but the moment her eyes snapped open, she was wide awake. By the time she was standing her heart was racing, and the memories of the treehouse raced around her head like a zoetrope.

She glanced at the clock and her heart skipped a beat. I swear I set an alarm, she thought, but that morning she never heard it ring. She quickened her pace as she grasped around her lived-in room, and her fingers shook as she grasped for a hair brush.

Amanda had been on call for thirty-six hours before June 16th and her room had started to reflect the effort. Clothes had piled into haphazard heaps, and the room was in desperate need of a candle to fight off the faint smell of tired sweat. She instinctively reached for her dresser drawer, giving a quick prayer there'd be something clean, but her hands stopped short.

She stared down the drawer just long enough to tremble, and saw the same shirt she'd worn when she met me at the treehouse.

Had she been more awake, she might have remembered that it'd been soaked through with sweat and crusted white. She might have remembered how musty it smelled after being pressed against the treehouse carpet, but her heart was still racing and her head was still pounding. She felt her nervousness in the back of her throat, and she nearly tripped as she tried to pull her pants over her ankles.

No, she thought, I need to shower. I need to clean. Do my hair. Do everything. It has to be perfect.

At that point my nerves had started to settle. I didn't have to pace anymore, nor was I constantly checking the time, but I couldn't keep my mind from racing. Sure, things were great in the treehouse, and I was excited to hold her again; but that didn't change the fact that she still had to find out the truth about the time loop, and I'd been living June 16th long enough to know reactions were a dice roll.

I sat down to watch the same tv channels I'd seen a thousand times at the same time Amanda stepped into the shower. I rocked gently in my recliner as she scrubbed her legs raw. She shaved between her thighs, and ran her hand one final time around her body, looking for stray hairs as I nursed my morning coffee.

It was nearly nine by the time Amanda locked her front door behind her, and right on schedule, Sadie came hobbling past the driveway.

Amanda almost ignored her. In a moments glance, she was almost unrecognizable, from even a few years before. A scar ran down her neck that told the story of a tracheotomy. Her hair was patchy and fell in white strands she was too stubborn to shave away. Her eyes had started to droop, revealing the redness around her eye sockets, and dark hairs sprouted from the sores all over her face. A lifetime ago, Sadie and I had a dog, we walked together, but as she shuffled past that morning, her only companion was a walker.

When the time loop started, Sadie was twenty-seven, about six months older than me, but the appearance she'd chosen that day made her look well into her sixties, and more sickly than most Amanda saw at the hospital.

Amanda finished her double take, and realized who she was looking at. "Sadie?" she asked, and the sickly woman turned, ready for the confrontation.

Sadie took a handful of exploratory steps, and her legs buckled and shook. She pressed her weight against the walker and tried to make her way up the driveway, but Amanda ran to stop her.

"I got you," she said, but Sadie swatted her away with an annoyed hand.

"It's been so long," Amanda said, but her voice trailed and her mind went blank. The usual platitudes seemed meaningless, when she looked at a woman staring death in the face. How are you doing? she could ask, but the answer was clear, just by looking at her tired eyes and weathered skin. you look great! she could try, but it was an obvious lie.

"Nearly too long," Sadie said, filling the silence and rescuing Amanda's floundering.

The truth was, the two never really knew each other. They were aware of each other, but once Sadie and I started dating, Amanda kept her distance and the two had only spoken a handful of times over the years, and usually nothing more than pleasantries.

"I'm so sorry," Amanda tried.

Sadie was quick to interrupt, "About me and Charlie?"

If Amanda knew the truth about Sadie she might have caught the suddenness of the answer. If she'd put on her doctor's hat she might have noticed how breathy and abrupt the words were and how quickly Sadie's neck snapped. She might have realized how unusual it all was for someone with stage four lung cancer, but she wasn't looking at Sadie through a diagnostic lens, she saw a girl close to death, and she stared at her with empathy.

"Well I heard you broke up," Sadie said, more reacting to the sudden change in conversation. She saw me in her minds eye, for just a moment as Sadie said my name, and her heart skipped a beat.

"I broke up with him," Sadie said. At least that was honest. When she spoke she made her voice as strained as she could, with as much pain in every syllable, with tears starting to well in the corner of her eyes. A master of pity.

Amanda held out a gently hand to steady Sadie's shoulders. She felt how much her muscles had deteriorated, and knew a light gust would steal her footing.

"My cancer went metastatic," Sadie continued, "And I knew my days were numbered. I thought Charlie would be there for me, be my rock, but he got so distant. Sure, I was busy, doing whatever I could just to get a few extra days, but I hoped for something from him. Things got to a point where he barely ever talked to me. I felt so alone. And then my friend Charlotte told me he was cheating on me- it was the final straw. I kicked him out. I don't ever want to see him again."

If Amanda had been paying attention to the way Sadie spoke, she would have noticed Sadie's wheezing dropped off half way through her words. Her voice quickened and she never ran out of breath. Instead, all she heard were the words Sadie said, words about me.

"You have to be careful," Sadie said, back in her performance, full of coughs and wheezes, "With which guys you trust."

Sadie didn't wait for a goodbye. She went back to her hobble, and started down the sidewalk. Amanda stood for a moment, but once again her mind fell blank. She almost called, I hope you get better! but she knew how meaningless it'd be. Instead, she stood there silently, watching the sickly woman struggle away.

I didn't hear about that conversation for months. I was nervous that morning, sure, but I had no idea the kind of thoughts that started dancing around Amanda's head. I didn't know just how low Sadie was willing to stoop.

I sat in my recliner, rocking away. I was blissfully unaware that Sadie's racing heartbeat wasn't just excited nervousness anymore. I didn't know how much her fingers were trembling as she wove through traffic, or how jerky her feet were on the pedals. I didn't know anything was wrong until I heard her knock. It wasn't the nervous gentle knock I was expecting, it was a pounding, a demand to open the door.

"Hey," I said with a smile, but her eyes were wide and ghostly.

"You have to promise," she said, brushing past me into my kitchen, "That you tell me the truth. About everything."

I took a nervous sip from my coffee and trailed after her. This is it, I thought, the moment I always dreaded after sleeping with a new woman.

"I know it's gonna sound crazy-" I started, but Amanda cut me off.

"Did you cheat on Sadie?" she asked. I saw the fire in her eyes and knew instantly that Sadie had done something.

I didn't, however, instantly have an answer. I'd been preparing all morning for one difficult conversation, Amanda's words caught me looking like she'd thrown a curve ball.

"She has cancer. Terminal cancer," Amanda snapped, venom building in her voice, "And you couldn't even wait it out?"

Whoever happens to be reading this, you can believe what you want to believe. I know you're only getting my perspective, and inevitably that means I'm going to write with bias, so maybe you'll take my words with a grain of salt. I don't give a shit. Here's the truth. Before the time loop started, I'd slept with one single woman in my entire life. Sadie. No one else.

"I never cheated on her," I said. I spoke slowly, and watched the way her eyes reacted to every word I said, "I'll admit to a lot, but I'm not a cheater. I made mistakes, a ton with Sadie. When she got sick, she got so pre-occupied with her projects. She turned to her childhood friends for comfort, and I felt helpless. I felt like small talk was condescending, and neither one of us just wanted to talk about her sickness and terrify her more than she already was. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't know how to help her."

I chanced a creeping step closer, and saw the fire was still there in her eyes, but it'd started to soften.

"You need to know the whole truth," I tried, "Today's still June 16th."

My words caught her off guard enough to transform her anger into confusion. Her mouth dropped, ready to speak, but it closed again.

I took another step closer, and held a hand out nervously, desperate for her to take it. "Wasn't there anything," I started, "That was off this morning? The weather was exactly the same as yesterday right? You woke up exactly the same way, at exactly the same time, right?"

Convincing was always the hardest part. No one's ever ready to believe they're stuck in a time loop, no matter how compelling the evidence is. Once Amanda started to believe, then I could get into the why, how, and what.

"Check your phone," I said, a slight tremble in my voice, "I called you yesterday right? Shouldn't you see me in your call history? Shouldn't today's date be the seventeenth?"

Amanda ran her hand nervously down her pocket, and her fingers shook as she scrolled through the menus.

"Just let me explain," I said. I stopped inching closer, and instead guided her towards the couch. She needed to sit down, and we needed to be able to look at each other.

"The rules were made clear to me," I said. I ran my fingers down her shoulder as I looked into her eyes. "I live the same day, over and over, and over. Every time I sleep with a woman, she's added too. This doesn't end, until I sleep with every single woman in Custer City."

Amanda's eyes went blank and I tried to reach out for her again, but she jerked away.

"Amanda?"

"Don't touch me," she snapped, and wriggled back.

"I know it sucks," I tried, but she crawled further away from me. I tried to chase her, and my words turned desperate, "Living the same day isn't so bad. It's a nice day!"

"Don't you get it?" she snapped. She was standing now, staring down over me. She kept her arms crossed, hiding herself from me, and the fire had returned to her eyes, brighter than before, "I thought you actually loved me."

I rose to meet her, but she shoved me back down. I landed hard, but found her eyes, "I do love you. I always have."

"How many women?" she cracked, "How many are already in the loop, girls you slept with before me?"

"I was scared to tell you how I felt," I tried pathetically.

"How many women?"

I tried to stand again, and this time she didn't stop me.

"Tell me this," she spoke softly, and full of anger, "If you weren't in this shitty ass loop, would you have ever tried to tell me how you felt?"

I thought I had a moment to snap. I took a confident step towards her and made my voice a deadly whisper, "Would you have?"

Amanda felt her fist curl, but she grit her teeth and stopped her arm from swinging. "You ruined my fucking life," she said, but she didn't give me a chance to respond, "Not just mine, but hundreds others too. Even if you didn't cheat, Sadie was right to leave you. I don't ever want to see you again."

Amanda was through the door and slammed it behind her before I had a chance to react. I stood there, awkwardly by the couch, completely motionless. That could have gone better.

Chapter 5

Like most days, Alley was the first to find me. I woke up alone at 6:13, and even though my house was the same temperature, the air felt cold, and I curled into a blanket, while I sat in darkness.

When Alley got there, I told her the entire story. I expected sympathy, or some kind of reaction, but it's easy to forget, Alley and I were never friends. She stood from the table and took back her gun. "No resetting," she said, "Until you're over this. It's not fair to make the rest of us wait too."

Alley left my house as abruptly as Amanda had the night before, but I didn't miss her as the door swung shut behind her.

Normally Chrissy would be second, but she always had a drive, and unless we planned to meet up, she liked to hang around her house. That just left Ginger and Amber.

Amber, I barely knew, and Ginger never woke up before noon, so I was alone, wallowing in my own self pity, wanting to lie down and mope.

It didn't matter how long I'd been stuck in the time loop, or how many times I'd tried to nap and snapped awake the next morning, the feeling of wanting sleep never went away. Even then, probably a few decades into reliving the same day, the urge to sleep away my problems never felt stronger. My brain knew it wouldn't help, but my heart had different ideas, so I curled up on the couch, and waited for the world to turn black.

I didn't feel any better the next morning, and Alley didn't bother showing up. Chrissy would still be across town, and Ginger was still half a day away. I was lonelier than before.

I thought about going after Amanda. It's not like she'd keep blocking my number every single morning and I knew where she woke up. It wouldn't be hard to find her, but the truth is I felt like shit, and I knew she didn't want to see me anyway.

I wasn't hungry and didn't eat that same spinach omelet. I never had to poop before three or four in the afternoon, and I'd watched every channel I had. To put it bluntly I was bored. Before this all started, I liked playing games, but when they reset progress each night the appeal was limited.

I thought about going numb to the whole thing and trying to sleep with someone else, but the idea repulsed me, and so I sat and waited. I didn't know what I was waiting for, but I knew sitting and doing nothing felt more valuable than anything I had around the house. Maybe, I thought, If Amanda saw how miserable I'd become, and how I'd given up entirely, she'd know I was telling the truth about how I felt with her. She'd know it meant something, then she'd at least give me a chance. Right?

My heart didn't even skip a beat when Ginger finally knocked on my door. I sat lazily on the couch with my arms spread wide and my legs spread wider. I didn't answer, and listened as Ginger fumbled with the key under the doormat to let herself in.

She saw the way I was undressed and unshaven, draped lazily over the old couch, and she took shuffling steps towards me. She pulled off her shoes with her toes, then took a seat next to me.

"Are you ok?" she asked, "Alley told us all what happened. I tried to come yesterday, but you'd already reset."

I didn't turn and look at her. I didn't see the way she'd done her hair. I didn't notice that she was in full make up, or the fact that she was holding a loaf, wrapped in aluminum foil.

She saw I wasn't responding, so held out the bread, "It was a pain in the ass to find old bananas in a time loop," she said, "But I found some yesterday, and remembered where they were today. I thought you might like some banana bread."

I didn't turn or reach for the package. I felt her set it gently on my side, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. She draped herself against my side, and leaned against me for comfort.

"I'll keep coming," she said, "Every day until you're better ok? We're in this together. "

"Ginger," I finally said, "Can you kill me?"

Ginger came back the next day, then the next. She didn't always bring food, but she always made it a point to look her best. She wore a nice white hat that complimented her red hair. Some days she went shopping, and other days she got to me as quickly as she could. She always tried to talk to me, and gauge the way I was feeling, and she took every chance she could to wrap her narrow arms around my shoulders and press her body against mine.

Things got to a point where Ginger was basically my housemate. Sure, she was always gone in the mornings, but we were spending entire afternoons together, and whenever I fell asleep, she lay next to me and listened as my quiet breathing turned to snores.

She started bringing things with her. Somedays she'd bring a book we'd read together. Other days she'd bring groceries, or movies she wanted to watch. We got to a point where we weren't just talking, we were sharing each other's company and just existing next to each other.

One day she started bringing a guitar. It was a lime green flying v, and the paint had started to crack, but neither of us cared. She laid across my lap, strumming away as the two of us stared at the ceiling.

"It's not actually my guitar," she admitted with a small laugh, "It's my roommates boyfriend's. At this point though, I guarantee I've played it more than any of them."

I nuzzled my head further against her frizzy red hair as she launched into a gentle guitar cover of Little Talks. When she finished, she flexed her fingers and winced in the pain. "I just wish," she said, "That it was actually possible to build calluses."

I laughed, and she chuckled, "It hurts like hell." The chorus turned into a strum, and she started the next song.

"You do look great today," I finally said, and for just a moment she lost the tempo.

"Thank you," she said, and she set the guitar down.

It'd been almost a month since I'd last seen Amanda, and Ginger hadn't missed a single day.

"I did get a call though," Ginger said as she pulled herself to her feet, "From Amber, she wants to come over tomorrow, check up on you."

"That's fine," I said, as she nodded nervously.

"Good," she said, forcing a smile. She inched closer to me, and scooted until her thigh was against mine, "What about you though?" she asked, "Are you feeling any better?"

I felt her long fingernails tap against my chest. Her fingers worked past my naval, but I caught her wrist before she found my belt.