I blinked through the static of sleep and a mild hangover as I tried to read my morning texts.

            Hi Rachel. Do you want to meet tomorrow? September twentieth, at eleven o-two PM.

I collected everything I could find on Manaia. I wanted to tell you at India and Kennan’s party, but you weren’t there. At eleven o-three.

Then he pinged his address. He’d sent them both the night before.

Shit. I’d forgotten I asked John to look into Manaia.

Coffee and eggs later, we planned to meet. I brought John’s new tube and took the red sketchbook; in case it would be useful. John said he would be waiting at a specific corner, just on the edge of campus, and even told me what clothes he would be wearing. A green jacket and a yellow baseball cap. Conspicuous but endearing. It wasn’t hard to spot him when I arrived.

“Hi Rachel.” John said loudly. Putting the hat in his pocket.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Kennan’s always late. India’s always on time.” He said evenly.

“Wait. Are they… here now?” I asked. Confused.

“No. Do you want them here?”

“Uh, no, never mind. Sorry.”

“Ok.”

John watched me blankly then walked away. I jogged a little to catch up. A familiar feeling.

“All the information is on my computer, but I copied it onto a sixteen-gigabyte flash drive. I can walk you through it, but you keep the flash drive. I have a lot of them.”

“Great, thanks John. I’m sorry about all this, I hope it wasn’t a hassle…”

“Getting access to the autopsy report from the Griffith police station was the most difficult part. If you…”

John kept talking, but I missed every word.

Autopsy?

[drawing]Johnbuilding[/drawing]

John turned in front of a building further from the road than its adjacents. Whoever designed it must have been hired ten years after the buildings on either side. Their improvisation wasn’t pretty. John took a wide step over the deformed sidewalk and led me to the gate.

“I followed Manaia digitally. That means I tracked his jobs, housing, travel, and education. I did the same thing with his family. On the flash drive you’ll see a spreadsheet with the information. It shows everything up until he died.” He explained.

John unlocked the gate to the building, let me inside, then locked it behind him. We walked up the stairs to the tenth floor and into the hall. He lived at the end.

“Manaia was bitten by a funnel-web spider. They are extremely venomous, but antidotes should be widely accessible in the area. The reports aren’t clear on what Manaia was doing, but his family said he was hiking when he died. Heat and dehydration exacerbated the venom. After death, he was brought to the Griffith Police station where the autopsy was ordered until they could identify him and contact his family. His family lives in New Zealand so it took four days.” John said.

“Where is Griffith? Is it in… Australia?” I asked. I remembered Harmony saying something about looking for Man in the Australian desert.

“Yes, in New South Wales. But there is a Griffith in Indiana as well.”

New South Wales meant nothing to me, but Australia made sense. Harmony was out there trying to save him. I wondered if they already knew Manaia was dead. Surely. But wouldn’t they have told me?

“You can put your bag and coat here.” John pointed.

“Oh, ok, thanks.” I reached for a coat hanger and peered into the apartment.

Along the floor in the foyer were countless cardboard boxes, flush to the walls. Piled in each were bits of mechanical and electrical salvage. Stacks of dark green motherboards and the husks of old computer towers lurked in a corner. Rolls of wiring crushed the dilapidated remains of a plasma screen TV, loosely organized by thickness. John had already slipped into another room. Loud clicking heralded the sound of fans accelerating.

[drawing]Johnapartment[/drawing]

“There’s a chair here for you.” John said, muffled.

“Sorry, I’m coming.”

Around the corner, a desk adorned with monitors of different sizes thrummed to life. A sheet metal box on the floor half exposed its computer-entrails to the room. Around it sat a graveyard of older monitors scattered haphazardly. A shop fan by the window blew over the setup as John rolled an office chair with no back across the room to me. I imagined his apartment as an Easter egg in some of my favorite apocalyptic games. Borderlands maybe.

John typed away at a black screen, and I sat down. He turned one of the monitors towards me and held the power button until it flickered to life. A white page materialized in front of me.

“You originally asked me to find out if it was possible to bring Manaia here for Harmony’s birthday. Since he’s dead, it’s not. Maybe some of this information will help. Relatives, burial site.” He said, scrolling slowly.

“Thanks, John... Wait, scroll up, I didn’t see when he died.” I asked, brought suddenly out of my own thoughts.

“Third from the top, center column. Here. Time of death is estimated between one and two PM pending more data on local temperatures, June twenty-second.” He said. The day after Harmony’s loop began.

“Are you sure that’s right?”

“It’s corroborated by the other documents here. Is it incorrect?”

“No. I don’t know. I’m just surprised.”

June twenty-first was Harmony’s start over day. In the morning. If they woke up and went to the airport right away, it would take them at least a day to get to Australia. It took that long to get to Japan. Manaia died the next day as early as one in the afternoon. Would Harmony have been able to make it?

“How far is the nearest airport from Griffith?” I asked.

“Manaia isn’t buried in Griffith, but…”

John tabbed out and began googling.

“There’s an airport in Griffith. Just outside.” He said.

“How long would it take to get from Chicago to Griffith?” I asked, feeling a sense of urgency. John clacked away at his keyboard.

“Flight time and travel time vary depending on when you leave. The layovers change from day to day. From this data here, about twenty-two hours.”

Twenty-two hours from the morning of the twenty-first. If Harmony left as soon as possible, that would mean getting there sometime in the morning, hours before Manaia died.

“Where was he found? Where was his body found?” I pressed.

“The reports say…”

John tabbed back into his document and scrolled. My heart beat loudly in anticipation.

“Cocoparra National Park. Here at the bottom.” He moved his mouse to highlight some text.

“Cocoparra… Cocoparra National… Hiking trail…. At the base of a dried ravine…” I muttered, following the document with my finger on the screen.

It wasn’t that far from Griffith. Harmony probably could have made it. John interrupted my thoughts by handing me a USB plug soldered onto a small green circuit board. I took it gingerly.

“Did you find anything else, like, really important? Things I should know? Anything about Harmony and Manaia?” I asked.

“I didn’t look for that. It would be easier to ask Harmony. Is this also a secret?”

“No, yeah, you’re right. You don’t have to look. I was just, you know, curious. ‘Cause I didn’t know Manaia.”

“Are you going to tell Harmony?” John asked, swiveling his chair toward me.

“I… Yeah. I think I am.” I stood up.

“Honesty is the best policy. Unless people punch you.”

“That’s a good lesson. Thank you for all of this. Thank you so much. Can I hug you?”

“No thanks. It was fun. It was a scavenger hunt. I’m sorry Manaia died. I hope you find another way to celebrate Harmony’s birthday.”

“Me too.”

There was absolute sincerity on John’s face. Warmth, despite how abrasive he often seemed. My eyes wandered the room again. In the kitchen, I could see a whole soldering station set up on the dining table with no room to eat at all. Seeing how John lived made me happy. He lived with what brought him joy, and nothing else.

“Oh! I brought you something! Kind of as a thank you.” I said, running out into the foyer.

I came back with the package my uncle sent.

“This is the tube. For your amp.” I said and handed it to him.

John’s eyes grew wide with excitement. He looked for the right words and found nothing. Eventually he took the box into his hands and opened it slowly. The little glass bulb within only fed the flames of his enthusiasm. Carefully, he put the whole package on his desk and extracted the bulb from its foam protection to examine it.

Then he looked back at me.

“Do you want to listen to music?” He asked, which I knew in my heart meant I love you.

“Hell yeah, I want to listen to music.”

--

Concrete Blonde played for us. I couldn’t help but watch the mess of cables arc from the record player to the amp to the speakers John set up around the room. I sat on the couch, right on the X he’d embroidered into a seat cushion for perfect surround sound experience.

“Do you live here alone?” I asked when the song finished.

“No, India visits me. We listen to music and eat food.”

“That’s super cool.”

“You can come too. She usually visits on Tuesdays because I don’t have work.”

“Ok. Yeah, that sounds like fun.”

“Sometimes India says it’s date night and then we watch a movie. Or we listen to sad songs and India cries.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what to do with that information.

“She says it’s good to cry. And it’s good to have someone to cry with. Then she talks about her dad. I tell her about my parents if she asks, but usually she just wants me to listen.”

“John, I think you’re a great boyfriend.”

“Kennan says India wants a girlfriend to have sex with.”

“You’re still a good boyfriend.”

“Am I a good boyfriend if I mansplain?” He asked. Though even in his tone, I felt worry in his voice.

“Uhm. Yeah. Mansplaining has some nuance. Did someone say you were mansplaining?” I asked.

“Last night one of Kennan’s friends said I was mansplaining when I told her about the band on her t-shirt.”

“Ok… I can kinda get where she’s coming from. She didn’t ask you about the band?”

“No, I wanted to be friends.”

“I see. So, the core of mansplaining isn’t about the fact that a man is explaining something to a woman. It’s about the power play happening. Subtext. The guy is usually trying to assert himself over the woman or discredit her. Even if it’s something the woman already knows way more about. The gender dynamic feeds the power dynamic.”

“I didn’t want to discredit her.”

“But maybe she didn’t know that. Or maybe it felt like it anyway. Did you ask her about the band?”

“No. Should I?”

“That’s a better way to start. She probably knew all about the band, she bought the t-shirt after all. If you ask, maybe she can teach you something. That way you don’t tell her things she already knows, and she doesn’t feel like you think she’s stupid.”

“Is that why Dave punched me?” John asked immediately. I took a deep breath.

“I don’t know why he punched you. He was kind of a jerk.”

“Avoid jerks.”

“Definitely.”

--

As soon as I stepped onto the street, I called Harmony. It rang, but they didn’t pick up. A few steps toward their place and they called me back. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins.

“Ray?” They asked.

“Can we talk?” I said quickly.

“That sounds rather ominous. Should this happen in person?”

“I’m sorry….”

I steadied my breathing.

“How are you feeling? Was yesterday ok?” I asked.

“It was fine. After the morning I went for a walk and that helped me calm down.”

“Stress?”

“Partially.”

“Can I see you?”

“Always. I’m at the studio right now.”

“Ok, I’ll be there soon.” I said, switching directions on the street.

“I love you.” They said. My chest thumped.

“I love you.”

I held my breath after answering. Waiting. Listening. Until Harmony finally hung up.

[drawing]deformedsidewalk[/drawing]

The art building wasn’t far from John’s. And, even though I walked there, my heart pounded away as if I were dragging a hundred years of Harmony’s life on my shoulders. Running as fast as I could. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was carrying, but I knew it was important.

I took the stairs two at a time, slid through the atrium, and threw upon the drawing studio door.

“That was fast.” Harmony said, looking up from the forest of empty easels.

“Hi.” I caught my breath.

“Hi. Do you want to sit?”

I dropped onto a stool beside Harmony and let my bag fall in my lap. They kissed their finger and turned it to me.

“How was last night?” Harmony asked and returned to their drawing.

“Last night. What happened last night… Oh! Sammy and I dressed up! We had steak and got drunk; it was amazing. Then Okaasan called and I talked to my family for like an hour. Paul’s gonna go to Fifth Union, just like you said.”

“How do you feel about that?” They didn’t look up.

“Good. I think. Paul feels good.”

“I’m glad that conversation resolved itself well.” Harmony sighed.

“Doesn’t it usually?”

“Often. There’s a lot of fighting though.”

“That hasn’t changed.” I said.

Harmony chipped away with a finely sharpened pencil at the page in front of them. They’d only just begun a new drawing. I had no idea what it was. Or what it was going to be.

“So… I do actually want to talk.” I pulled the red sketchbook from my bag.

“Alright.” Harmony put down their pencil and looked at the book in my lap. The paused on it for a long time.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked

“Yes… But… I can’t remember. Is it mine?”

“It used to be Manaia’s.”

“Man…”

“Do you know what happened to Man?”

Harmony stared at the book. Their soul might have left their body to scour the libraries of their mind. Or they might have frozen. Paralyzed at the idea of remembering nothing. Harmony was inscrutable, falling to pieces faster than they could reassemble themselves.

I passed the book across the divide between us and lay it gently in their hands.

“Is he dead?” Harmony asked quietly.

I nodded.

“Did I kill him?” They looked up at me, tears pooling in their eyes.

“No, no Harmony. You didn’t… It’s not your fault. It was nobody’s fault. It was an accident.”

Harmony wept, pulling the sketchbook against their chest and leaning into me. I wrapped my arms over their back and held them.

“Man got bit by a spider. He couldn’t get back.” I explained.

“In… Out in… In a ravine…” Harmony mumbled.

“You do remember?”

“I remember pulling. Pulling with everything. His arms… His legs… Trying to lift his body. I kept asking him if he knew where he was. Where he was… Where… Where he was before the ravine… He was always dead. He was dead every time.” Harmony stuttered erratically.

“Maybe not, though. Look.”

Harmony turned up to me, confusion crossing their red eyes. I pulled my laptop out of my bag, and fished for the USB stick in my pocket.

“Ok, so, remember how I told John to find Man?” I said.

“Yeah… Yeah. I was upset. I’m sorry.” Harmony sniffed.

“No, it’s ok. He actually found him. He did a ton of research and put everything onto this flash drive.”

My computer whirled as the login screen came to light. I pushed the flash drive into a port and pulled open a window to look inside. There was one folder, Manaia Malala. I dragged it to the desktop and a window popped up. Harmony and I watched silently as thirty-eight documents copied onto my computer.

File Transfer Complete.

“Ok, look at this. John got the police report from Griffith, the town where Man’s body was taken after he died. It shows time of death as… between one and two PM on the twenty-second of June. Since you wake up on the morning of the twenty-first, you could take a plane and –” I started.

“I think I did.” Harmony said softly.

“Did what?”

“I think that’s what I was doing in my old memories.”

“Yeah, but here we know exactly where he was found. Like, it even says who found him.”

I scrolled desperately.

“Shakuntala Prasad. We could reach out to her to find the exact spot and you could go there. If you left immediately after you woke up, you could be there before he died. Or you could call someone there to find him. John said there’s antivenom and no one dies from spider bites anymore. You could save him.” I said, my heart picking up, trying to ignore the tornado of emotions around it.

“But I couldn’t…”

“What do you mean?”

“I…” They gagged.

One of Harmony’s hands fell limp as their back spasmed. The motion ripped them from their seat and threw them on the ground. I let go of my computer to catch them.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I dried my already crying face on my sleeve and kicked the stool out from under me. As I landed on the ground, I pulled Harmony into an extended position and put their head on my lap. Behind me the stool knocked over an easel which teetered and clattered to the ground. That one hit another and like a chain of dominoes, the whole room descended into cacophony.

Ears ringing, I took a deep breath and lifted Harmony onto their side, bracing their neck as we moved. Their soft, short hair brushed against my thigh. Not for the first time, but maybe for the last.

“Harmony. Stay with me. I got you.” I said gently, as much to give myself confidence as them.

Harmony’s chest convulsed again violently. They pulled their arm in and rotated their hips, almost kicking away from me. I knew I wasn’t supposed to hold them down, but I put my hands on their shoulders to stabilize them. They kicked again, sending their own bag sliding across the floor. Their contorted fingers scratched against the air. I bent over to look into their eyes. Both were bloodshot white. Desperate, I unzipped their black hoodie and loosened it.

I struggled to remember anything the epilepsy guide had said.

Gently touching their jaw, I felt it was clenched shut. That seemed bad so I tried to open it, massaging their cheeks with one hand while holding them on their side with the other. Then another spasm hit.

Harmony’s mouth opened suddenly, spewing forth a gush of warm blood all over my hands and legs.

I screamed.

Outside, footsteps ran back and forth in the hall until someone pushed on the door. It was stuck, jammed against a fallen easel. Then a cane poked through, and with a grunt Professor Vitelli pried it open enough to get their head through.

“Miss Rachel, is that… Dio…” He shuddered, seeing the blood.

Vitelli dropped the cane and fumbled for his phone.

It felt like the end.