There was a grove. Trees were desiccated and arranged in concentric circles. Paths from different directions reached into its center, where a dried-out spring nested like a concave bowl. The sky strobed in diffused fits of illness. It unsettled Kendra. She wanted to observe the grove from a distance. Eloise wanted to move towards it. Much like this planet, death was a temporary condition. The ground seemed ready to welcome both of them into it. There was a pillar of light.
A gas station. Kendra drops her keys and it wakes her up. Cold soaks her bones. She opens the door. She could change the gas prices on the sign—they are down three and one-ninths cents again. She could study the candies, the labels, the shelf-stable meat sticks. She could review their homes, their vacancies, and their variations. Instead, Kendra waits for the coffee to finish brewing, so she can warm herself and check on the pigeons out back.
There was a pillar of light. How much time was it this time? Four days, five hours, thirteen minutes, twenty-two seconds. The same. No variation. Kendra almost never remembered the last visual. Unless it was vivid and imprinted on her memory. She remembered the light. That must have been the end, the moment when the planet died.
A pigeon. The LED on its collar blinks. Kendra cups its body the way she holds her coffee to warm her hands. The message tied to its leg is unanswered. E – Tell me you’re okay, K / Iter. 1999. She cradles the message and feels worn down. Just over twenty years of loops. Maybe it is time to give up. Stop the loop and move on with her life. She wonders if Eloise has given up on her. Kendra wants to cry, but cannot. She wants to think this is not grief, but a conclusion to a past life at the end of its thread.
There was a semitropic planet. Kendra teased Eloise under their bivouac. She traced Eloise’s body with the map of her palms. Their bodies pushed the sky and ground away from one another. They watched the twin moons replace the sun. They talked about aging together when their research was over. It would just take an eternity to get there.
A woman. Her tangle of red hair disguises her head. She rings the full-service bell and it snaps Kendra out of her daze. Kendra has not seen her before. This must be a new variation. She notes the time, 9:27 a.m. Kendra tries to get the woman’s attention by calling her Red Hair. The bell ringing is an accident. The woman is afraid she is in trouble and the type who laughs at her own jokes.
There was a pillar of light. How much time was it this time? Four days, five hours, thirteen minutes, twenty-two seconds. The same. No variation. Kendra remembered a bright pillar of light in the grove right before they reset. Eloise wanted to go back. She had theories about the grove being a ceremonial site. Kendra thought she was as brilliant as she was reckless. Kendra said they should gather as much readings from probes before returning. She was averse to both dying (temporarily) and having every atom ripped from her being (potentially permanent). They fought until they reset. How much time was it this time? Four days, five hours, thirteen minutes, twenty-two seconds. The same. No variation. Eloise announced that she was going back to the grove. Kendra could join, but if she did not, Eloise was going to go back by herself. Without any other options, Kendra found herself gearing up with Eloise to go back to the grove. No conversations, except essential communication.
A coffee, a seltzer, and a bag of Hot Fries. Kendra flirts with the woman with the tangled red hair. She just started a PhD in anthropology. She looks a few years younger than Kendra. Kendra trails off saying she used to know an anthropologist. The woman asks if the anthropologist was an ex, with the sympathetic look of someone who has also experienced heartbreak. Kendra says they used to work together and are on different paths now. This is the first time she acknowledges Eloise as lost. The woman says she is glad to hear about an anthropologist with a job. Her gentle laugh breaks the air and invites Kendra to think about something other than her past for once. Kendra gives the woman her receipt. The woman says her name is Quinn. She writes her phone number on the receipt. Kendra pulls a blank receipt from the terminal and writes her number on it. Their goodbyes compete for enthusiasm.
There was a game. A matching card. Kendra tried to remember the exact curve of the symbol. She recalled its color, its number, its random placement. And maybe she would select the right one. A memory. Her finger taps the pattern decorating the back of the card. She flips it over.
A pick-up truck. Quinn and Kendra start driving through the dark Vermont woods to warm up, not wanting to end the night after their date. They stop at a field with staggering visibility of the night sky, stars made brighter by the hollowed-out circle of a new moon. Kendra identifies constellations to Quinn. They edge closer together. The backs of their hands dance over one another. They look to the sky, finally to each other, and kiss. Quinn draws Kendra closer and Kendra cups one of her hands around the side of Quinn’s neck. When they drive back, Quinn sits in the middle of the pick-up’s bench seat, intertwining her arms with Kendra’s.
There was a grove. They searched for tools, gems, and other artifacts that dotted these types of ruins. Kendra was nervous as they approached the reset. Eloise was drawn to the dried-out spring, unable to resist its pull as if it were a riptide lulling her into a trance. This must have been the pillar of light’s source. The moment when the planet died. There must be terrible, unseen damage underneath the surface. Kendra ran over to Eloise to pull her away. Eloise fell to the ground just beyond the spring. Light started to crack through the surface. Kendra tried to run. To reach for Eloise. The ground opened.
There was a pillar of light. Kendra’s limbs contorted, her body stretching and snapping back. She was embalmed in blinding light and total darkness, passing through every color, feeling every nerve in her body and none of them all at once.
There was a pillar of light.
A pillar.
There was. Is—
A gas station. Kendra drops her keys and it wakes her up. Cold soaks her bones. She throws up on the glass door in front of her. It is the middle of the night. Or early morning. A fanny pack is clipped diagonally across her torso like an askew orbit. Inside, a driver’s license with her name and address. She has no idea how she inhabits the same identity in an entirely different dimension. She gathers pieces of her new life. She still experiences loops, which means that Eloise is dead and unable to turn them off. Or alive and still researching.
A pigeon. The first one. The gas station’s owner keeps them behind the store. Radio signals and computer links will never reach Eloise. Years of waiting, patience, notes, dead pigeons, and tinkering to get the portal to work. The sky cracks open for a moment and then the pigeon is gone. She receives a response from Eloise four loops later. Holy shit. I thought you were dead. -E
A rolled-up note. Their only way to communicate. They keep trying to figure out how to open a portal and reconnect. Kendra can only make a portal small and short enough for a pigeon to pass through. A human-sized portal will tear this planet in half. Kendra also knows their ship does not have the technology and Eloise does not have the expertise. Boiling water is a stretch for her.
A loop. Another. Kendra enjoys the rhythm of working at the gas station. Memory is not always cumulative with the loops. Every reset is disorienting and she has difficulty remembering things. (This is normal and well-documented.) She keeps logs of every loop, every variation. She studies brands on candy bars, sodas, things with recognizable images. Sometimes, things change in very small ways. It becomes a memory game. Can you spot the differences between these two images? Sometimes, people appear in one variation and are gone in the next. She keeps minimal notes of them. If she encounters the same person after a reset, she would have knowledge of them, without their consent. It makes her feel manipulative.
A thousand loops. Kendra starts to feel stranded. Unless there is a miracle, by iteration 1,500, they begin to acknowledge that they have exhausted all of their options. Eloise provides terse updates on her research. Kendra just wants to know that Eloise is safe. She clings onto memories of Eloise for hope. A future together might no longer be possible. It hurts Kendra when she thinks about it. She misses being an explorer of the present and future. She hopes she will find a reason to move on.
#
An apartment. Two days later. Much like Quinn, each room seems to invite Kendra in. She feels entranced by Quinn’s endless possibilities and connection.
A couch. Under covers. They both laugh. Kendra feels like a found object, thought to be lost forever. There are about twelve hours left in this loop. It will reset at 10 a.m. Kendra looks to Quinn. I want you. Quinn evades her sight for a moment, but moves the blanket to the side. She gets on top of Kendra and kisses her. I want you too.
A bedroom. Warmth collects under the covers from their bodies. Kendra’s hand tangles with Quinn’s hair and grazes over her breasts. When Kendra comes, she is stretched through the cosmos and begins to feel human again. Quinn looks beautiful in this moment. Kendra feels beautiful.
A sun. Light splinters through curtains. Kendra is in Quinn’s arms. She tells Quinn that she has to do something at work before 10. Quinn asks when she will see her again. Real soon. It will feel like an eternity though. Kendra will explain to Quinn what this means eventually. They kiss and Kendra gets dressed.
A note. Have you thought about ending the loop? -K. Kendra tries not to think about Quinn not appearing in the next iteration. Instead, she focuses on the pleasure and joy she felt over the past few days. She wants to experience the love and fullness of being in a relationship again. It is time to move on. She sends the pigeon off into the horizon with the message. The pigeon disappears in a small band of light. She wishes she could end the loop now, but in the end, it is Eloise who has to do it. Kendra stands there, looking out at the fields, content with resolve.
#
A gas station. Kendra drops her keys and it wakes her up. Cold soaks her bones. She waits for Quinn to accidentally ring the full-service bell at 9:27 a.m. 9:30 passes. It is possible she is not in this iteration. At the end of her shift, there is a pigeon waiting on the cages.
A response. K – I think it might be time. E. Kendra feels immense relief and then grief at moving on from someone who she still loves deeply. And fear of navigating a future without her.
A reply. Please don’t reset yet. Let me know how you’re doing. I have updates. Kendra will give herself another 75 loops for Quinn to re-appear. About a year cumulatively. Otherwise, she will have Eloise end the loops as long as she is okay with it.
A correspondence. Kendra and Eloise send notes back-and-forth over the next several months while Kendra waits for Quinn to reappear. After Kendra vanished, Eloise has not been able to make much progress with her research. It seems that there was not much left to discover after the grove. Eloise came to terms that all of the answers will never be known completely. Instead, she shifted to documentation, so future researchers can study the dying planet as a case study. Their tone is friendly and appreciative of one another. They still love each other, but recognize that their futures are incompatible.
An update. Kendra tells her about Quinn. Eloise responds: Take all of the time you need to find her again. When Eloise ends the loop, it will be near impossible for them to communicate. Eloise was her beacon of hope when she felt isolated. Kendra cries most nights. She is moving on from a relationship that is still important to her.
A woman. 9:27 a.m. The full-service bell rings. Kendra looks up and sees a tangle of red hair.
A coffee, a seltzer, and a bag of Hot Fries. Kendra talks about her ex. Quinn gives her the look of someone who has also experienced heartbreak and makes a joke. They exchange numbers.
A pick-up truck. They look at the stars and kiss. Kendra does not intend to map their original loop together, but their interaction falls into a natural rhythm. She is reliving a past, pleasant dream.
A note. Kendra decides that this is the loop. There is no certainty it will work out with Quinn, but she has to try. Behind the store, there is a pigeon waiting. She struggles to write a message through tears. You can end it now. I love you El, forever and always. -K. The portal emits a bright light. By the end of her shift, the pigeon is already back with a new note. I love you too K. Good luck. I’ll never forget you. E. Eloise must have kept the last note Kendra sent, instead of writing on the back of Kendra’s notes like she normally does. She will not know if Eloise turns off the loop until 10 a.m., the day after tomorrow, but she trusts her. She puts the pigeon back in the cage and goes to her truck. She sits with the note. She rereads it and cries. She resolves to take strength from this. She is again making a present and future for herself.
A couch. They look to each other and want each other.
A bedroom. They fill the bedroom with immense pleasure and connection. They are tangled in each other’s arms and talk late into the night.
A sun. Light splinters through the shades. Kendra lays in bed and watches the clock move past 10:00 a.m. Then 10:05. At 10:30, Quinn slowly rouses herself awake. She smiles seeing Kendra. For Kendra, this is a new path. Uncharted skies. She lingers at that thought and smiles. She is an explorer again.
Hannah Gregory is a trans, queer writer with work published in Passages North, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, X-R-A-Y, and Okay Donkey. She is a career services director at a community college and lives with her wife and dog in Western Massachusetts. Twitter: @hannah_birds
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