The Gaps Between My Muscle Memory

Familiar beeping bombarded my dream. An ocean view faded from my mind as consciousness pulled me awake. Monday. I sighed internally. My left arm flung out, unfamiliarly slamming down on my nightstand, missing the clock. Looking through slits, the sun felt as if it were burning my corneas. I immediately pulled my hand back, reaching further, trying again to stop the obnoxious beeping. Success! I rolled onto my left side, wrapping the blanket around me like always, when Thud! I landed on the floor, pain radiating from my shoulder. Dazed, all I saw were dust bunnies swimming before me. I really needed to pass a broom under my bed.

How did I get on the floor? Did I move that much while sleeping? How rough did I sleep last night? Sliding myself across the floor, pulling half the dust bunnies with me, I crawled out from under the bed.

My arms rested on my knees as I sat up. I craned my neck, side-eyeing the clock. I glanced around the room warily. Something felt off, and it wasn't just my tumble out of bed. I never missed hitting my alarm. Sure, as a teenager, but after almost twenty years of practice, I’d gotten quite good at it. Shaking it off, I stood, raising my hands above my head, stretching. I glanced around, once again, suspicious. Noticing the slight tilt of my constellation poster, I walked over, touching the frame. Maybe there was an earthquake last night? I glanced back at my bed. Before I could question it further, I heard my neighbor’s alarm go off through the wall. It snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Crap,” I huffed. I must have been dazed longer than I thought.

I ran into the bathroom, ignoring my slip on the bathmat as I turned the shower on. My hand grazed the wall where I knew my towel should be, but just missed. I shook my head, knowing I didn't have time for this crisis of reality. Maybe, if I got back into bed, everything would right itself. Would getting out on the “right side” help, or would it still be a Monday?

I hurried through my morning routine, trying not to notice the gaps between my muscle memory and the obvious misplacement of reality. For some reason, everything just seemed slightly wrong. My favorite thermos was next to the wall in the cupboard instead of on the opposite side where I left it last night. I almost ran my car into a wall, narrowly missing the apartment’s iron gate. At every stoplight, I found myself looking around, wondering if anyone else felt like they were somehow sitting on the wrong side of the road. And my parking spot at the office was two spaces farther to the left than I remembered it being before. And I would know; I just got the promotion a few weeks ago.

Once at work, I questioned the elevator as I entered. Why was it now on the opposite side of the lobby? This topsy-turvy realization really pushed my psyche. You would think I would remember something as easy as getting to my desk on the seventh floor. I was left to ponder these strange happenings when, before the doors could close, a familiar arm placed itself between them.

“Didn’t you hear me, Brandon?” my friend asked me. “I asked you to hold the elevator for me.” She said, flabbergasted.

“Sorry,” I responded. I hesitated, not quite sure how to formulate what I had been seeing all morning. “Raegan, does something seem off to you?” I ventured, as the doors closed on the two of us.

“Sure,” she chuckled. “I felt that way last week when Eric brought in that new trophy for his office.” She shuddered. “Can that man have more of an ego? Why would they even give out trophies for trivia night? It’s not even–”

“No,” I interrupted her. The elevator dinged as we arrived on the seventh floor. Lowering my voice, I leaned in closer. “Have you ever felt like everything was just, you know, off? And not like how you felt last Wednesday.” I held up a finger, not wanting this conversation to get sidetracked on a rant about the copy machine. “I mean feeling as if everything is slightly… wonky.” She looked at me funny as we walked down the hall to our offices on the west side of the building.

“What do you mean? Is this like that time when you ate that pie in 5th grade a week after its expiration date when I told you not to?”

“No!” I told her, touching her arm, stopping her from continuing down the hall. “I wish it were that simple,” I whispered. “At first it was just little things. Now, I don't know. Either something is really wrong here or…” I stopped, not wanting to admit it.

She looked at me funny. Now, in a more concerning way. Before she could take her hand and place it on my forehead to check my temperature, I grabbed her wrist, making a left turn, dragging her down the hall toward my office. I heard her apologizing to the coffee guy as we nearly toppled him and his drinks over. I quickly pushed her inside and shut the door, leaning against it.

She set her bag down on the desk and faced me, worried. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on here? Why did you drag me like that to my office? You definitely didn’t do yourself any favors with Laurie, by the way. She was looking at us very strangely as you barreled past, dragging me along.”

“Wait,” I held up my hand, stopping her. “What do you mean, your office?” I looked around, astonished at my surroundings. Instead of seeing Gregory in the corner, what we lovingly named the parlor palm Raegan gave to me for my promotion, I saw her low wooden shelving. The familiar vintage Dodge Li'l Red Express, a replica of the one her grandpa used to drive us around in, was displayed on top. Blinking in surprise, I opened the door, glanced out, and shut it again. Leaning against the cold wood, I grasped the doorknob tightly in my hands. My chest heaved as I felt I couldn’t get enough air. “Your office?” I said breathlessly. I kept repeating it over and over again. “Your office?” Each astounding question was more surprising than the last.

“Brandon, what is going on?” Raegan asked, grabbing my arm. I felt her hand, like a ghost, slide to my hand, prying it away from the doorknob. Grabbing my face in her hands, she made me look at her. “Brandon, breathe.” I heard her voice, muted to my ears, drowned out by all the blood rushing through my head. Locking eyes, I noticed she was breathing in a slow and exaggerated way. “Breathe.” She mouthed again. Though I couldn't hear her, I started to mimic her movements. After my breathing slowed, I felt her lead me away from the door toward the two chairs in front of her desk. She sat me down slowly, and then, sitting opposite me, squeezed my hands. “Brandon?” She asked.

“Raegan,” I said, slowly, trying to keep my voice even and my breathing controlled. I saw the nervous look in her eyes mixed with pity. I looked down at the floor, not wanting to see that look directed at me. I knew she was nervous. I would be nervous for her if the roles were reversed. She was going to think I was crazy. Who am I kidding? She probably already does. The only bright side to this whole thing is this is happening in front of Raegan and not some random coworker or, even worse, Laurie. I wouldn't do well in a padded room. Though, perhaps they’d be doing me a favor. Maybe I do need to be committed.

“Brandon?” She asked again. I looked up at her. “You need to talk to me.” I nodded, but again didn’t speak. “Brandon.” She tried a third time. This time I met her eyes, holding her gaze. She smiled, tentatively, not wanting to spook me.

“Raegan,” my voice quivered slightly. “I thought it was just in my head, a fluke. You know? Like last Wednesday when you thought it was Monday all day. I even joked with myself about getting back into bed to get up on the “right side.” But it wasn’t. I know I’m going to sound crazy, but I could have sworn I parked in the wrong spot.”

“You parked in your spot next to mine; I saw it,” Raegan assured him. “Are you sure you’re not–”

“It’s more than that.” I interrupted. “Every day, for the past twelve years, I have come into the lobby and walked past the security desk, to the RIGHT,” I emphasised, “to get on the elevators. I swear. I’m telling you the truth. And I wasn’t trying to bring you to your office.” At this point, I stood up, stretching my arms out. Raegan immediately stood, trying to get me to sit back down, not wanting me to fall apart all over again.

“I meant to take you to my office. The same office I have been coming to for a month now.” I paced to the door and turned around facing her, bringing my hands up in demonstration. “Make a right out of the elevators down the hallway, make another right. Then just before the big corner office, make a sharp left and turn into my new office. The same office as yours on the opposite side. This was supposed to be my office.” She stood before me again, in front of the door.

“Brandon, you're not making sense. This has always been my office. Since last year.” Her brows furrowed. “Did you eat something bad this morning? Did you hit your head before work? How late did you stay up after I left?” Her questions were posed one right after the other as her hand came to my forehead, checking my temperature. “You know how you get when you don’t get enough sleep.”

I was at a loss for words. Maybe I was just sleep-deprived. I grasped onto that solution, hoping it was just all in my head. That would explain a lot. I mean, it’s just not possible. I must be hallucinating. “Maybe you're right. I must not have gotten enough sleep. I have been getting less since the promotion.” I trailed off, trying to assess myself, but not wanting to look too closely. I didn’t want to convince myself that it was all in my head. That my body didn’t feel as tired as I was trying to make it feel. I ignored that restful feeling and clung to the mania.

She smiled at me, reassuringly. “I know I’m right. Here, lay down on my couch. I’ll cover for you.” She led me over to her couch behind the door. I could tell she was trying to brush off my panic attack and my odd confession. It seemed we were both trying to hang on to reality, hoping that it wasn’t more serious than lack of sleep.

“But, I can’t…” I tried to protest, but it was of no use. Not wanting anything to dissuade me from the sleep I obviously needed, she wasn’t going to let me stop her.

“No,” she interrupted. “You are in no condition to drive, and I have to be in the conference room in an hour. I’ll take care of everything.” I lay back on her black leather couch, letting her convince me. “When you wake up, I’ll take you home. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

“But, Raegan.” I tried one last time. “I don’t know if I can sleep. Let alone keep my job if I do.”

“I told you I’ll cover for you. I’m sure Laurie would help if I asked her to.” She winked at me. “Besides, if you can’t play the nepotism card in a life-and-death situation like this, when can you?” She looked at me, daring me to refute her. “I’m sure your uncle will understand you taking the day.”

“But he’s not head of this department. What about Simon?” She rolled her eyes and looked at my face dead on. I knew if I wasn’t already in crisis, she would've hit me on my arm and called me stupid.

"Who cares about Simon? Your uncle is over Simon.” I sighed, giving in. “That’s the spirit!” She interpreted my sigh correctly. “Now, about that sleeping problem.” She grabbed the small blanket on the edge of her couch and draped it over me, barely covering my legs. Then, rummaging around in her purse, she pulled out a couple of sleeping pills. “These will make sure you go to sleep and stay asleep until you can wake up well-rested.”

I grabbed the pills and the water bottle she gave me without protest. I knew not to fight Raegan when she was on the warpath. Quickly swallowing them, I gave her back the water bottle and lay my head down.

“I hope you’re right,” I said as I started to drift. Maybe I was just sleep-deprived. Or maybe, my irrational brain interrupted, you are crashing from your panic attack, and everything will be just as weird when you wake up. The last thing I heard before drifting off into oblivion was Raegan’s voice, assuring me how right everything would look when I awoke.

“Brandon, you awake?” Raegan asked. Her hand gently shook my shoulder. I couldn't quite get my eyes to focus on her face, but I could tell she was smiling. She grabbed me, helping me get my body sitting up right. “Are you doing better? Do you still feel wonky?”

“Right now, all I feel is groggy and parched." She smiled at me, handing me the water already in her hands.

“Yeah, that's the pills. Unfortunate side effects, but they work like a charm.” After handing her the bottle, she quickly stowed it back in her bag. “Come on, let's get you home.”

I stood up on wobbly legs and let her lead me out the door. As we walked the same path back to the elevator, I noticed that the building looked deserted. I looked at her, questioningly.

“I stayed after work to finish a few things. Plus, I wanted to let you sleep. It's better when you wake up on your own. But it turns out, Sleeping Beauty, I still had to drag you back to consciousness.” She chuckled. “Your uncle happened to come by today.” I looked at her, shocked. “I know, today of all days. Don't worry, he agreed with me when I told him what had happened, and Simon is none the wiser.” We rode the elevator down as she continued talking, filling me in. “Louise was happy to help, by the way. You should really go after that girl.” She smiled at me, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I will. I've just been waiting for the right moment.” I say.

“Yeah, sure you are.” She said, nodding her head sarcastically. “I'll believe it when I see it.”

The elevator doors opened, and we walked out, passing the security desk on the left. I couldn't remember what all the fuss was about earlier. It always sat there, right?

We walked to the doors of the lobby and walked across the covered bridge to the parking garage across the way. As she helped me into her truck, convincing me it was too dangerous to drive myself, I couldn't remember seeing the sky as we crossed the bridge. Yet, this time that anomaly didn’t seem to bother me as it would have before. As she drove me home, the lights from the oncoming traffic blinded me as they raced by my side of the car. Still sensitive from the drugs, I closed my eyes. I chalked up the nagging I felt as we drove on the left side of the street as side effects of the drugs.

It wasn't long before we arrived at my apartment. Raegan punched in the gate code and pulled into my spot. She ran around the car and held the door open for me, making sure I didn't topple over. We walked over to the elevator, deciding not to take the stairs from the parking garage in my condition.

Raegan knew from her own experience waking up before one’s ready that she needed to make sure I got safely into my apartment. So, she walked me inside, helping me navigate my way to my room. After depositing my shoes by the door and me on my bed, she reassessed my stability. “You're sure you'll be alright?”

“Yes, I'm fine. I've made it to my bed. I'll be good by morning.” I patted the blanket next to me, smiling. “Thanks for today. I guess I really needed it.”

“Of course. What are friends for? Now, get some sleep,” She said, before walking out of my apartment, promising to pick me up tomorrow.

I threw the blanket over me, not giving anything a second thought. It wouldn't be the first time I fell asleep in these clothes. I laid my head on my pillow and put my hands out, feeling for the wall in reassurance. As my right hand hit its solid surface, I opened my eyes, content that my bed was back where it belonged. Yet, when I looked up, that weird feeling came over me again as I saw dust bunnies clinging to the ceiling. A clean line of wood glowed back at me as if someone took one lousy swipe before abandoning their attempt at dusting. Shrugging, I looked out at the moon hovering below me, thinking that this was how it's always been. And I almost believed it.